A Kat in the Darkness

by SithRebel and MerlotBeauty

“Could you close those, please?” Kat asked, squinting and pointing to the window blinds.

“Huh? Oh, yes.” Katherine’s editor rose from his seat, his eyes still affixed to his laptop. Then, with a tug, he closed the blinds and sat back in his chair. “Better?” he asked.

“Yes. Thank you.” With her legs crossed, the luscious brunette swiveled back and forth while waiting for her editor. The barrel chair creaked each time she moved too far to the left.

“Could you not do that, please?” asked the editor. The light from Kat’s computer still lit up his face as he read. Kat said nothing but continued to swivel back and forth, avoiding going too far left. Bored but captive as her editor took his time, Katherine Cassatt moved her eyes across the room. The most prominent item was a framed photo of the man’s family which hung on the wall next to a civic award plaque. Next to the plaque was a photo of her embedded with a unit from the UK in Afghanistan. Below that clipping was another photo of her receiving a Pulitzer. For a moment, she allowed herself to be carried off in self-adoration.

“Well, you’ve got something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something.”

“The chemical leak at the Staedtler Shipping wasn’t a leak at all. Instead, it was a rouse to close down the plant before a surprise inspection.” Kat stood and leaned over her editor’s desk, pushing him aside.

“And according to your source, they moved something during the night, but you don’t name your source or hint at what that something could be.” The man closed the laptop and handed it back to his star reporter. “That something could be jelly beans or Kewpie dolls, for all we know. It’s unusual behavior, I admit, but I need more.”

“Alexander Morello.”

The editor leaned back in his chair as his face melted into a sour expression. “What the hell does Morello have to do with this?”

Kat sat on the edge of the editor’s desk. An excitement lit into her eyes. “You recall the toxic spill story I did a few years ago?”

The editor thumbed to the clipping on his wall. “I’m reminded every day. You won a Pulitzer for a damn fine investigation, now –”

“Esso corporation owned a few dozen smaller companies, including the Staedtler, but Staedtler was never audited during the official investigation of Esso even though all its other holdings were audited. And Staedtler Shipping was Morello Cargo until he sold it a few years ago. And Morello is an arms dealer.”

“Alleged arms dealer,” the editor responded. “So, what? You want to look into Staedtler?”

“I already did. It’s clean. I want to look into Morello.” Kat swiped her laptop from her editor’s desk.

“On what grounds? And even if you somehow manage an interview, which no one ever has, he won’t give you anything.”

“I don’t want an interview. I want in his house.”

The editor sat in his seat, his face awash with utter disbelief. “Are you completely insane? Even if he –”

“I don’t know what I’ll find, but I want to speak to the man, feel him out. I may get nothing; if so, I’ll try another angle.”

The editor rose from his seat and gestured to the barrel chair before his desk. “Sit down.” Kate did. “If the rumors about Morello are true, you’ll tip him off. At best, he’ll cover up everything, and no one will catch him. At worst, he’ll kill you.” The man frowned as his brow wrinkled his aged skin. “This is rookie shit, and you know it.” He paused for a moment. “I know you think you need another big story, but you don’t. Do your job. Do it well. Be proud, like the rest of us.”

Kat moved her tongue inside her mouth. Her eyes cut toward her editor’s bookcase. “I’ll go in as a Society columnist. You could say it’s punishment for some crackpot scheme I had that nearly got the paper into trouble.” She leaned forward. “I’ll take the risk, Jacob.”

“Fine.” The editor sighed. “Anaka will freak if I give you this. She’s wanted an interview with Eva Morello for months.” The man turned, his finger in Kat’s face, warning her like a child. “You go in, talk about the house, their charities, what Eva is wearing this season, anything other than … what we just talked about. You’ll have one hour with them. Observe, and if you see anything, follow up. That’s it. Deal?”

“It’s a deal,” said Katherine as she pushed herself up from the chair. “I’ll tell Anaka. She can do a follow-up with Eva somewhere in public.”

“I’ll set it up and hope they say yes.”

After Kat left his office, the editor repositioned his window blinds, but the sun had gone down. “Damn,” he said and sat back down.

Two Weeks later …

Driving up Morello’s driveway, Katherine was apprehensive. She never met Alex or his wife, but he would not be the first warlord she interviewed. The man’s reputation was as mysterious as it was dangerous, and maybe that’s what drew her to the story. She’d seen Eva in magazines. The woman was striking with eyes she could lose her soul in. If only she weren’t married to an arms dealer.

Roses adorned the driveway on either side as the house came into view. The mansion was extravagant and matched the couple’s aesthetic perfectly. Eve’s doing, no doubt. Kat exited her car and moved up the long cobblestone walk to the front door. After a deep breath, the reporter rang the bell.

Wavy mussed locks of a well-pleasured woman sprawled across chiseled sun-kissed abs. The man’s hand draped atop the woman’s chest, cupping her breast while his thumb gently brushed across her nipple rhythmically. Black sheets were tossed about the bed, draped and disheveled as can only be created through harmonious passion.

The midday sun filled their lavish bedroom bringing warmth even to their high black walls. She looked up to the gold teardrop chandelier overhead, and mused over the bedroom’s latest style. The room was one that exuded a very unsubtle air of power. It demanded obedience; control that was either given, or taken. In Eva’s world, there was no in between, and that was fine with her.

Eva licked her lips, gasping as even his most subtle of ministrations was enough to keep her already satiated body aroused, and wanting more. He always knew just how to touch her; just how to drive her wild and wanton. It was one of a million little reasons why she loved him so much. It was only a matter of time before he too regained his stamina.

Her back arched–not unlike a cat stretching after a long nap–and she cried softly as her husband pinched her well-tended nipple, before moving on to the other, giving it equal love and care. She signed again, her tone tired and airy, “If you do not take me again soon, love, I’m not going to last.”

She could feel his stomach muscles contract. Amusement, and arousal. Yet still, he gave a subtle command for her to hush. Eva did not need to look at her husband’s face to know, his lips curled in a small, promising smile, and his dark eyes gazed down upon her as the light of a dark fire. “Patience, amore mio.”

The cellphone on the nightstand vibrated before she could express her compliance. Eva recognized the dissatisfied rise and fall of his chest as he answered the call, even as his attention to her nipples continued.

“SÌ?” he said out loud. And then silence.

Eva could not make out the voice on the other end of the call. Second ticked by, and her brow furrowed as she looked up toward her husband, her body’s arousal waning as curiosity mounted. He spoke Italian, and while she rarely spoke in her husband’s native tongue, she knew every word he said. Her own body tensed, as she listened, and already she started making plans. She could tell that her husband was thinking too, as his attention to her breasts ceased.

Sighing she rolled to her belly, and his hand lifted allowing her to move freely, and as she propped herself on her elbows, his hand fell again, this time to her hair, where absently he stroked those loose blonde curls. He set the phone down, and looked down at Eva. “It seems you are to be the next feature in the society column.”

“Who?” she asked.

“Cassatt.”

Eva sighed, “She’s snooping.”

“SÌ.” His hand tightened in those already mussed locks, and her entire body jolted, a smile playing on her full lips. Where he was frowning a moment ago, he too matched her smile. “But I trust that you will make our journalist feel welcome, and that she will only witness what we wish her too.”

It was Eva’s turn to frown. “And if she makes herself unwelcome?”

His smile widened, as he gripped her hair painfully, holding her gaze. “Then you will ensure that she behaves.” His grip softened as quickly, and his fingers trailed down the line of her jaw, his thumb pulling lightly on her lower lip, and resting a tender grip on her chin. “Now, amore mio, come and take the pleasure that is yours.”

She did not hesitate. But, it would have been too easy to simply straddle atop him. With light kisses, and a hand dragging up the thin line of baby black hair leading up to a firm chest. Her smirk shared a secret, and he nodded with approval. Indeed she did straddle him, with her lips hovering a mere inch above his ready, and waiting arousal.

“La mia bella e brillante moglie,” he purred against her womanhood, as his hands wrapped around her thighs.

Two weeks later

Eva Morello stood before the entryway mirror, making sure that not even a single hair was out of place, and she smoothed and tugged a bit at her pants, making sure they flowed correctly when she walked. She wanted to make sure she looked just right before the battle of wills began, and today she chose a balance between business and casual: a light gray knit blouse with tiny pink flowers, and start black slacks with enough flowing fabric that made it look more like a skirt, than pants.

When the bell rang, she opened the door herself, having given her staff the day off. Today’s interview called for a degree of… privacy. It was, of course, entirely possible that her interview with Katharine Cassatt would be nothing more than the usual talk of the home’s stunning collection of vintage treasures, and the unique home’s blend of classic and modern decor. At least, that’s what Architectural Digest praised in its last publication less than a month ago. Eva was always amazed at the genius mind of her designer (who was always on speed dial).

But, alas, Mrs. Morello’s home for a simple interview was unlikely. This was a ruse, and a feeble one at that. The nosy journalist wanted a glimpse into her husband’s affairs. And that meant that today was going to be a game of intrigue. Was Cassatt truly a mere columnist now? No. Not likely.

And, it was in that vein, that Eva gave her warmest, grandest smile at the woman standing on the porch. “Hello, Ms. Cassatt. Please come in.”

She moved from the doorway, gesturing for the journalist to enter. “This way, I have prepared tea for our meeting today, and I thought we may talk for a bit, and then I will give you a tour of the house and grounds.”

Katherine always wore white or pastel to an interview; a calming color meant to relax the interviewee. Her makeup was similarly tame, mainly if Kat spoke with another woman. The journalist didn’t want to signal she was competition. For Eva Morello, Kat wore a cream-colored low-cut blouse that billowed comfortably over a pair of average jeans and sandals.

While always courteous, Katherine was known to torpedo her targets with hard facts and damaging evidence. She was meticulous in her research and always ready to abandon a good plan for a better one. This approach would not work on the Morellos. Cassat was not in a hotel or public office. She was undercover. It didn’t help that her ruse was shaky at best, as she had not written a society column in over 15 years. The best she could do was think like Anaka and ask about the drapes or the family china. Usually, such an assignment would put her to sleep, but Kat’s pulse rate kept her wide awake.

Waiting for the door to open, Kat fiddled with a small gold locket around her neck. In reality, it was a camera with audio capabilities. Although she had worn cameras before, she fidgeted out of nerves as the words of her editor came back to her. Footsteps neared the entrance. Kat pressed her hair down and shook a few strands out of place, preparing herself for the hunt.

When the door opened, Katherine, her face tilted ever so slightly, looked up to Mrs. Morella, a submissive pose with far more power behind it than it implied.

Eva was radiant, like a painting come to life, and perfectly poised as she greeted the reporter.

“Hello, Mrs. Morello, and thank you very much,” Cassat said. Her face beamed like spring as she passed through the door. “And tea sounds lovely. Thank you so much.”

Stepping off the porch and into the house, Cassat let her eyes feast on the magnificence of the Morella home. “Oh my God, this is amazing, and it’s only the foyer.” Following Eva, she couldn’t help but point and comment on all the treasures around the room. “This is so…grand and exquisite and…I’m going to run out of adjectives.”

Following Eva, Kat removed her phone and pen from a pocket in her skirt. “There is a potency to writing words that I can’t get from typing on this damn thing. I hope you don’t mind.” She began jotting down little notes immediately, mumbling to herself. “I have a series of questions, but now that I’ve seen the place, I need to improvise.”

Against the walls were paintings, tapestries, vases, and sculptures, and Cassat was genuinely impressed. A few of the pieces she recognized. However, she didn’t see anything that might have been an office, and Eva would skip her husband’s private domain.

“Thank you again for agreeing to the interview, Mrs. Morello,” said Kat, still following Eva to the tea, “I know your time is precious and I appreciate the courtesy.”

Katharine Cassatt was a remarkable woman.

Certainly, she was a beautiful creature, but it was not only that which got Eva’s attention. It was the wonderment that brightened those soft blues when she examined an old brass libra resting atop a small marble top console table. The subtle parting of lips when looking up at the crystal chandelier, while passing through the formal dining room. A delicate hand reaching out to flip a small hourglass just before taking her seat on a black leather tuxedo sofa.

Eva walked behind the journalist as they moved through the house, reciting a preview of all they would cover and discuss in the interview. She watched the other woman, her red lips gently upturned not unlike a feline stalking her prey. It was only when they sat across one another in the sitting room just off the patio that her expression softened and she became the bright, and friendly woman that everyone in the media knew and loved.

Carefully, Eva poured a light, but fragrant chamomile tea into the pair of floral-print cups sitting on the coffee table, and passed one glass to the other woman. “I am surprised to see someone of your prominence here, Ms. Cassatt. Usually we are graced with, ah, forgive me, I can never remember her name,” she paused for a moment, “ Oh, yes, Anaka.”

Eva sipped her tea. “Now tell me, what is it you would like to talk about today?”

Had she met Eva Morello strictly as a society reporter, Katherine Cassatt would have found the lady engaging enough to appreciate. Her skin looked like white silk, complimenting her dark red hair and vivid blood-red lipstick. She moved like a ghost through the house, her deep brown eyes constantly aware. But what piqued Cassatt’s curiosity was Morello’s commanding presence, the way she held herself as she spoke of her possessions.

Katherine sat on the sofa, tilting her legs to one side, crossing only her ankles, and placed her phone and pen on the mecca-style center table in front of her. Accepting the tea from Mrs. Morello, Kat inclined her head once in thanks. The woman before her was warmer than Cassatt expected, though still a striking and commanding lady. And cunning. Eva launched the first query of the interview, a bit of irony Katherine appreciated.

“Yes, Anaka was initially scheduled to meet with you, but she had a family bereavement that hit the poor dear quite hard.” Kat sipped her tea, enjoying the particular aroma and taste before she moved on. “Why me? Well, I am here because my editor assigned me the story.” Kat shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve had enormous luck in some of the stories I have perused, but I’m like any other reporter. I go where my boss tells me.”

Eva fired her shot, opening the stage directly after to observe. Kat was one down as the two began their tête-à-tête.

“First, I want to say, and I apologize for fangirling, but you look amazing.” Cassatt primed her hair and ruffled her blouse. “I barely got a shower this morning; anyway, what do I want to talk about?” Reaching for the tea again, Kat also retrieved her phone in the other hand, scrolling through her notes while enjoying another sip. “First, I want to peel back the curtain on your lives here, a little … only a peek.” She continued to scroll down her notes until she hit the right one. “Here we are.”

“Cable news, social media, magazines, and newspapers, mine included, have described you and your husband as one of the world’s most influential power couples. Are we right, and if so, how does –” The woman paused and put her tea back on the table, raising her hand a moment later. “I’m sorry, but I thought I saw a bronze teapot in your dining room. I ask because I think I saw one like it years ago in Kabul. I almost bought it and was curious if yours was the same style.”

With the mention of Kabul, Afghanistan, Katherine reminded Eva of her history in the region and how she survived the bombing of a hotel. Afghanistan was rumored as a heavy buyer of her husband’s merchandise. Kat made her first shot.

“My apologies, Mrs. Morello. I wanted to ask before I forgot. Now …” After another sip of tea, she continued, her phone placed back on the table. “If I recall, MSNBC called the Morello’s the most influential couple since the Obamas. How does that make you feel? What, if any, responsibility do you feel you have toward that status?”

Eva sipped her tea, patiently waiting for Ms. Cassatt to settle on a single question. It never ceased to impress her how a reporter could take fifty words to ask a simple question; a tango of insinuation, and expectation that the interviewee would misstep and reveal something truly interesting. The remark about Kabul, however, she had to give the reporter credit; directly to the point–the true purpose of her visit today. Her eyes narrowed, if only for the span of a heartbeat, and Eva hid a deeply contained rage behind a prolonged sip of her tea. But, thankfully Ms. Cassatt was too good for her own good, she buried her own question beneath another, safer topic. Wise woman. Still, the damage had been done and she would remember that first question well, and address it when the time was right.

“Mr. Morello and I remember our roots well. It is no lie that we enjoy our wealth and the comforts that come with it; but neither of us were raised in such a privileged world. Though business sends my husband all over the world, I stay close to home and I work closely with several charities. I am excited to talk about my latest project: Books for All. I started the initiative a little over eight months ago, making deals with several children’s books publishing companies. Our goal is to provide all teachers, and students across the country with full libraries of quality print books. We love how technology has entered the classroom, but even with the availability of both PCs and mobile devices there is no greater power on this earth than putting a book into the hands of a child. And, of course, I also am a huge supporter of several YouTubers, especially those who promote the youth of today to get up and exercise. YouTube is such a powerful platform, and I intend to continue supporting, and promoting aspiring celebrities who will in turn inspire others…” Eva continued to list several other charities she involved herself with; mainly providing large sums of money, networking, and on rare occasions she would appear in person as a Keynote speaker. For her husband’s line of work, it had always been her role to make the Morello name appear as a positive role in society.

All the information shared in their conversation was nothing new for the media. At best, Eva knew that the poor journalist would get hum-drum reviews for her efforts today. Idly, she wondered if Ms. Cassatt was in trouble with her editor? Hmmm. It was a useful thought to keep in mind.

“Please, allow me to clear these dishes, for you,” Eva said brightly, as she collected the empty tea set onto a silver-plated tray. “I have given my staff the day off today; it is far easier to give a private tour when no one else is around. I will be back shortly.”

As she left the room, Eva could not help but smile to herself, knowing that Ms. Cassatt would not deny her innate nosy nature. Mrs. Morello was counting on it.

“Congratulations on your book initiative, Mrs. Morello. It’s an incredibly worthy cause.”

Politely, even dutifully, Cassatt sat on the edge of her seat and listened to the enchantress. Eva spun a delightful tale of charities, struggle, and privilege. Yet, in all her ramblings, Morella never once answered Kat’s question. To the outside world, Mrs. Morello was the balm for her husband’s ambitious business dealings. To Kat, her tale was a sleight of hand performed for the media and the masses as a distraction to her husband’s actual business dealings.

Morello did make one slip that Cassatt noticed. She insisted that her husband’s business took him worldwide, but she stayed close to home. The Arabian teapot could have been purchased online, but Katherine doubted it. If there was any truth the Morellos displayed with the masses, it was that they loved each other. More than likely, the teapot was a gift after a particularly successful sale. It was a stretch without proof of wrongdoing, so Cassatt moved on.

Once Eva answered the journalist’s question, Kat hoped to steer the woman toward her furnishing and at least act like a society journalist, but Mrs. Morella decided then to clear the tea. Ms. Cassatt handed the woman her teacup with a grateful nod. Then, she watched the elegant woman disappear from the room. Did Morello need to clear the dishes there and then? Was she that anal? Judging by the house and her appearance, the answer was yes. Besides, Katherine could not pass up such an opportunity. Perhaps both women were victims of their own tendencies.

As she was about to break Eva’s trust, Kat left her phone on the table but brought along her pen. Admiring the décor was a plausible excuse to break trust. However, getting caught snapping photos might be a bridge too far. Not to appear overtly clandestine, Katherine stood and casually began to eye her surroundings as she meandered out of the living room. Combining classic and modern styles, the home evoked a commanding simplicity. A 1920s art deco mirror complimented the sleek hallway, simple in design but strategically placed. On the wall across from the mirror, a Greek tapestry hung just out of sight of the mirror’s reflection. Kat took note of the art as it depicted a soldier fighting the minotaur with hints of a labyrinth design which in turn complemented the mirror. The woman was good at her job. Kat could not deny that.

Further in the house and with little time, Cassatt darted toward what looked like an open office. Could it be? The woman scouted about. She neither heard nor saw anything, and with the servants gone, kat could not pass up the opportunity. Was this a trap? Probably, but at most, Kat would be thrown and barred from the house, and there might be a lawsuit against the paper. Carefully, Katherine snuck into the study. As with the rest of the home, the décor was all museum quality, but two things caught her attention. First, a laptop on the desk, and second, as the room’s centerpiece, a carved rhinoceros horn sat atop the fireplace mantel. While beautifully carved, the amber-colored piece was highly illegal to possess. It wasn’t what Kat was after, but it was something. Quickly, she took a couple of shots of the priceless artifact. She could use it to discredit or spur an investigation.

The closed laptop would be tricker. Snatching a piece of tissue from a nearby box, she opened the computer and casually set her pen beside it. But, of course, it wasn’t a pen but a wireless flash drive with a decoder. A small light on the pen lit up as it began to copy the contents of Mr. Morello’s files. She took on a snapshot of the desktop and waited.

Suddenly, Katherine heard heels on the marble floor. “Come on …” she whispered. The tiny light on the pen flashed green. Kat swiped it from the desk, quickly pocketed it and the tissue then hurried out of the room and right into the path of Mrs. Morello.

“I am so, so sorry, Mrs. Morello. I didn’t mean to leave the living room, but ….” The woman blushed; her head tilted downward. “Could you tell me where the ladies’ room might be?”

Eva placed one finely manicured finger under Ms. Cassatt’s chin. Raising the woman’s gaze up to eye level. “Come now, I expected a much better excuse from a reporter capable of toppling empires.”

Mrs. Morello’s eyes darkened, but her grin widened. She lowered her hand, and stepped forward forcing the other woman to step back. “I might have believed you if you had said you were interested in any one of our cherished baubles.”

She stepped closer again to the woman, pushing her back another step, but not letting their body’s more than a breath apart. “Now, let us continue the interview. Have a seat.” It was not a request. She gestured to a classic leather and walnut guest chair facing a large, antique desk.

Once the reporter was seated, Eva made a show of sauntering to the desk, and turning the open laptop around. She looked back at the other woman and smiled as she started the video recorded message. It was Alexander Morello sitting at the very desk, in the very room they were in now. Though the man did not smile, the slight narrowing of his near-black eyes was a sure clue to his amusement.

“Good day, Ms. Cassatt,” he said good naturedly, “if you are watching this, then our suspicions are confirmed and your purpose in our home today is not to discuss the finer points of modern vintage, but rather gain insight into my business dealings. So, let us dispense with the games, shall we?”

Mr. Morello then offered a small, telling smirk. “See, this leaves me in a very interesting position. I have only to make a single phone call, report your illicitly obtained information to the authorities, and tie your newspaper up in litigation for months. I can, and I will destroy your reputation, and even have you brought up on charges if I wish it. But, if such unpleasantness does not appeal to you, I am prepared to offer you an alternative.

“I will give you the exclusive you seek, unfiltered, and with full disclosure to my business if you agree right here and now to vacation with my wife and I in Europe for the next few weeks. Spend time with us, get to know us, and at the end I will tell you anything and everything you wish to know.

“From the conclusion of this message you will be given one minute to decide. At which time my wife will call me directly, and inform me of your decision. Do you agree to join us in Europe, or do I begin making calls to the FCC, and my team of lawyers? And remember, no choice is a choice in and of itself.”

The video ended, and Ms. Morello stepped in front of the laptop and leaned against the edge of the desk, cell phone in her hand. She looked down at the reporter, waiting for her answer.

Mrs. Morello’s finger felt cold on Katherine’s chin. She thought it amusing as the frigid touch matched the woman’s pale as death skin, but Eva’s widening grin frightened the journalist. Caught, Katherine thought to bolt and run for the door, but Morello’s grasp reached across the world. Could Cassatt run far enough? Or was it even fear that kept her in that house or something else? Curiosity, perhaps? Backed clumsily into the room, Cassatt sidestepped an ottoman as she was forced to sit by the intimidating Eva. Blue eyes moved over Morello, noting only the phone in the woman’s hand. Even unmasked, the dark-eyed Eva glided across the floor to the laptop. Katherine watched as Mr. Morello appeared. Was this some sick joke? Her heart raced as the recording played.

Katherine squirmed in the chair as Alexander offered a solution to their mutual dilemma. Europe? Cassatt mouthed, repeating the words from the recording. And both husband and wife looked amused, like a cat with a mouse. In a way, that was an applicable metaphor. However, the threat was not idle. Morello could do everything he said, and as much as Katherine feared for her editor, she was not so magnanimous as to toss her reputation away.

Once the recording was over, Cassatt remained seated as she gazed up at the wife, a cell in her hand, waiting. A minute wasn’t long to decide, especially since the offer made no sense. Indeed, Mr. Morello would never reveal his actual business willingly. So, all Kat could guess was they planned to kill her and go into hiding for a few months.

There was one card Cassatt could play, even though she would hate herself for it. Sitting on her hands so as not to betray her growing fear, Kat looked up at the carved rhinoceros’ horn. The mere accusation that the Morello’s owned such a thing would light up social media. She could use it now and stall. Her minute was almost gone.

“Fine. I’ll go with you, but I must make a few arrangements first.” The woman stood from the leather chair and stepped closer to Mrs. Morello, still holding the phone. “I’ll need to contact my editor and tell him about my vacation.” A grin spread across her face as Kat looked the woman in the eye. “If I’m to be gone for several weeks, I’ll need to arrange for rent to be paid on my apartment, have someone feed and look after my cat, and tax season is coming up. I don’t want to be delinquent.” Though painfully aware she was stuck in Morello’s trap, Katherine continued, her courage growing. “And my family. I’ll need to contact them. I’m sure you checked them out, the Cassatts and Audelys – wealthy, well-connected.” Kat hoped her point was getting through. Though she expected her body to be dumped in the Atlantic somewhere, when she vanished, important people would ask questions.

“But of course, it will be spring once we get to Europe, so obviously, I’ll need a new wardrobe.” She smiled, tilting her head playfully. “Maybe we can go shopping together?”

Then Kat took her seat as Eva called her husband. “No, I don’t suppose that will happen.” She let out a sarcastic chuckle. “It’s a shame that in this Eat the Rich social climate the people won’t get to know the real you. An evil bitch complicit in the murder of thousands of children a year. Books for All my ass.”

With a single swipe, Mrs. Morello put the cell to her ear, and paused only briefly before speaking in italian. “Lei aveva acconsentito. A presto, amore mio.”

Eva otherwise ignored the other woman’s rambling. Instead she opened a small, but rather ornate box and removed not one, but two sets of cool, steel handcuffs. She turned back to the other woman, and quickly secured Katharine’s wrists to the armchair. First the right, and then the left. If the reporter was already overwhelmed, then this was likely to send her straight over the edge. And, of course, the goal was not to break the woman. No. The plan went far deeper. This plot was nothing that even the great Katharine Cassatt could ever imagine.

Now in full control, Eva’s face softened, and she ran her cool hands up Katharine’s arms, followed by her shoulders. “You are such a remarkable, and beautiful woman,” she whispered, speaking mainly to herself. “I almost feel unworthy for such a gift as this.”

Eva’s hands now cupped the other woman’s face, and she leaned in close, planting a subtle, light kiss upon the reporter’s forehead. “I want you to know something, Ms. Cassatt,” she said, then drawing back and kneeling before the bound woman. “I am overjoyed by your choice, and I can understand if you are afraid. I promise you that at no time will I or my husband harm you. Now, or ever. That is not our goal. And, you may end your vacation at any time should you wish to. You simply have to tell us ‘there’s no place like home.’ However, if you use those words before the end, then you get no interview, and your reputation–and your livelihood–will be ruined.

“In the meantime, all arrangements will be made for you by the end of the day; my personal shopper will ensure that you want for nothing while you are our guest. Your rent, taxes, and even your dear cat will be taken care of. Manny has a way with pets; they alway seem to like him.” Eva leaned up, and gently raked her fingers through Katharine’s hair, enjoying the smooth silkiness of those dark blonde strands; god she was going to enjoy taming this woman. “In the meantime, for the moment, I want you to just sit here and relax while I make the final preparations.”

The woman stood then, and started from the room, then stopped. “Actually, that reminds me. I did not appreciate your comment about our complicity toward children at all. In fact, it was quite rude.”

Eva turned back to the desk, and from within the same box where she retrieved handcuffs, she also took out a sizable red ball, with leather straps running through it. “You think you know who we are; what we do.”

It was nearly as easy to push the ball gag securely into the other woman’s mouth, as it was to handcuff her. She buckled the device snugly, careful not to pinch or pull any of that incredible hair. “I will remove this when I can trust that you will speak to me more civilly. Or if I can find another use for that delicious mouth of yours.

“Now, you really must excuse me, our flight leaves in a few hours.”

It was a sting to her pride that Morella completely ignored Katherine’s demands. Of course, she had little hope that any would be met, but the journalist did need to remind the woman of Cassatt’s family. Eva didn’t blink an eyelash. Were they that powerful, or was it a bluff? Kat let out a long-suffering sigh. She could act bored too.

Then, as Mrs. Morello picked up an ornate box, Kat’s heart beat faster. Was there a gun in there? Of course, Morello would staff a weapon in a fancy box. But it wasn’t a gun. Before she knew it, Katherine was handcuffed to the chair. “What the bloody fuck are you doing?”

Cassatt tugged at the cuffs, rattling the chains, chaffing her wrists, and scarring the classic wooden arms of the chair. Kat bounced from left to right, squirming and digging the chair legs into the carpet. She didn’t stop until Eva ran her fingers up her arms. Kat shifted away from the woman’s advances, twisting her arm until it hurt in a desperate attempt to flee from the touch. The last time Cassatt was tied up in such a manner, a terrorist held a gun to her head. Somehow, bound to the chair in such opulent surroundings and pawed over by such a delicious woman was more terrifying.

The more Eva spoke, the clearer the picture she painted about their intentions with Katherine. It wasn’t what she said but how she said it, with a soft, warm, inviting tone. Cassatt pulled away as she felt the woman’s fingers rifle through her hair, closing her eyes tightly and giving a slight whimper.

“Your reassurances mean nothing,” Katherine spat through shallow, raspy breaths as Eva started to leave the room. But then, the devious blonde retrieved the ornate box again and strapped a ballgag around Kat’s head. The reporter thrashed and kicked, but soon, she tasted the silicone of the red ball in her mouth, her head shaking and tussling her hair. Eva finally left the room, leaving Kat to think about her last words.

“MMMHHMM!” she cried, rocking the chair back and forth. Delicious mouth? Kat screamed again. MMMHHMMHMMM!” Sexual torture? Was that what the Morello’s had in mind? Alexander conducted business with some of the most heinous regimes on earth. Their methods of torture, especially with women, were unspeakable. Surely he knew he had learned a thing or two. Cassatt’s cheeks ached as drool started to creep from her lips. She had to get out.

The woman eyed the door, ensuring she was alone. First, Kat started wiggling each chair’s arms, hoping they would crack and she could escape, but the arms were too tight and solid. Second, Kat kicked off her heels, leaned forward and up but fell back, nearly toppling the chair. Her eyes began to mist as her mind wandered to dark, foreboding places.

No. Calm. This is Afghanistan. Calm. Calm.

Kat took long, slow, deep breaths, then tried again. Finally, she leaned forward and up. Hunched over, the chair’s arms in her hands, she quickly looked at the door again. No one yet. Kat scouted the room. The fire poker? She could pry that through the cuff and – no. That would break her wrist. Dammit. Her fingers could almost reach. There wasn’t much time left, and Morello was bound to have heard her by now. With only one chance, Cassatt positioned herself near the desk. Eva’s words kept running through her mind.

Remarkable and beautiful woman … unworthy of such a gift …. Delicious mouth of yours …

She lined the chair with the hardwood desk and jumped, cracking the wooden arm at its thinnest point and shooting pain through her forearm, elbow, and shoulder. Cassatt screamed through her gag. On the floor, Kat grunted, her body aching. One arm of the chair was broken. With a few wiggles and a quick yank, Kat screamed through the ballgag, but the arm came off.

Cassatt stood and went through Morello’s desk. All she needed was a paper clip. Finally, she found one in the top drawer. Using her free hand, Kat bent the thin wire on the desk and then went to work on the second pair of cuffs. Her hair rained over her reddened face. Drool covered her chin and blouse. Pain shot through her arm as she wiggled the straightened pin in the handcuff.

That delicious mouth of yours …

The cuff snapped open. Next, Kat undid the ballgag and tossed it away. Saliva drained from her mouth and onto the floor. Matted hair stuck to her face from the sweat, and then there, in the doorway, was Eva Morello. How long had she been there? Kat said nothing but grabbed an expensive vase and threw it at her. “Let me out of here, or I will destroy everything in this fucking room!” She picked up another expensive bauble, aiming it at the ground.

Of course, she would let her leave and destroy her career and reputation. Her editor would lose everything—no home or college for his child.

Katherine placed the bauble neatly on the coffee table, winced, and held her arm. Her body shook. Her lips quivered. Cassatt stood straight for the first time. She was not a tall woman, but she was proud – as much as Eva. “Weeks? To what? To break me? I will make you fight for every moment.”

Cassatt sat down, still trembling, holding her arm, and prayed she could back up her words.

Eva ignored the biting comments, but rather she frowned, looking on as Katharine favored her arm. The look of sadness on the woman’s face was fleeting, as disappointment set in, as she glanced only briefly at the mess of her husband’s study. Oh well. There were far greater tragedies than that of a few broken valuables.

She looked back to her new pet, and closed the distance between them. “Here, let me see your arm,” she said gently, concerned that it might be sprained, or broken. Eva did not wait for the woman to present it, but carefully took the arm into her own, and patiently waited for Katharine to voice her protests. Eva sighed with unabashed relief when there were no immediate signs of swelling, or bruising–both of which would have already been apparent had there been any real injury. Still, not having seen the full extent of her woman’s efforts, she also examined her shoulder carefully, carefully looking for signs that she might have twisted, or dislocated it. Eva looked the other woman in the eye, and her deep brown eyes softened again: true concern. “Please do not do that again. I think you only wrenched your arm, but if you do experience any lingering pain or soreness, please let me know and I will make sure you receive proper treatment.”

Eva released Katharine’s arm, then, allowing her to cradle it once again. She then turned to the spot where the ball gag had been tossed away. Carefully, she picked it up, and wiped it with a tissue before presenting it back to the other woman, her gaze darkening yet again. “I have not given you permission to remove this. You will put it back on yourself exactly as it was before. If you refuse, then I will put it back on you, and extend the time you will be required to wear it.

“Once it is on, you will collect that rhinoceros horn I saw you eyeing earlier, and follow me.”

Expecting a raging tirade from Mrs. Morello, Kat stood beside the sofa, ready to fire back, but instead, after the eloquent woman quickly surveyed the room, she approached Katherine. Eva’s expression was soft and warm with no hint of malice. Instead, she appeared genuinely concerned for Kat’s safety. The journalist backed up, shaking her head. “Don’t you fucking come near me, you fucking bitch.” Cassatt’s eyes darted left and right, seeking an exit like a cornered animal, but there was none. Even if she could escape the house, she was still caged.

When Eva asked to see her arm, the reported flinched, thinking she might twist it and hurt her further. Instead, the woman took her arm gently. Kat winced as the woman satisfied her curiosity, examining the appendage for any injuries as a doctor would. Then, she turned her head and ignored Morello until her arm was released.

Closing her eyes, Kat again waited for a slap, strike, or violent retort. None came. Unfortunately for Cassatt, what did come next was far more unpleasant. The red ballgag was returned to her with a warning and what sounded like a command. She would put it on or be forced to wear it for an extended time. Kat took the ballgag in her hand, her finger lightly trembling. The toy was more than just a gag to keep her quiet. It was a symbol of Mrs. Morello’s power and Kat’s vulnerability. And she had to put it on herself? The reporter’s face flushed as she pushed the red silicone ball into her mouth and fastened the black strap behind her matted hair.

Next, Cassatt moved to the mantel, ensuring her bare feet didn’t touch the broken vase and eyed the rhinoceros horn. Her mind was filled with imagined horrors as she picked up the priceless object. She then, as ordered, followed Mrs. Morello from the study. She was so humiliated that Kat wanted to crawl away and hide in some hole. But, as she followed the redhead, Cassatt kept scouting the halls and other rooms even though the house was supposed to be vacant except for the two.

“Mmhhhmmm ….”

The strap began to hurt her cheeks again while drool started to flow across her bottom lip. She had never felt so helpless and so frightened in her life.

Eva led her charge directly into the master bedroom. Flooded with light from the early afternoon sun, the high black walls did not make the room seem small at all. It was grand. Inviting. Even cozy. The rest of the room was as fancy as all the others, with accents of white, gray, and some subtle hints of gold (or brass depending on the heirloom artifacts). Eva treasured this room more than any other–oh if these walls could talk, what blissfully erotic tales it would share.

“You may set the horn down on my vanity table, there.” Eva pointed to the large table with three lighted mirrors, several dewars and a table top littered with an assortment of high end make-up, perfume, and hair styling products.

Waiting for the other woman to consider her options–again–before complying, Eva went to her bedside table, and opened the bottom drawer. From inside she pulled out four thick black leather cuffs adorned with gold-plated buckles and rings. She also took out four small weighted locks, also plated with gold. There was only one set of keys for each lock, and that rested securely on a chain necklace, which she placed around her neck, and tucked it safely beneath her blouse. Each cuff was as soft as it looked; firm, and supple, but equally unforgiving depending on how it might be used. “Come now, Ms. Cassatt. Since you were not content to wait patiently downstairs for me to finish our travel arrangements, you will now secure yourself in these cuffs. One for each wrist, and one for each ankle. You will make sure that each cuff is neither too loose, nor too tight,” Eva held up two fingers, “a person should be able to slip one, or better yet two fingers in each cuff to avoid cutting off circulation.

“And let me be clear,” Eva’s tone turned cold, bordering on severe, her eyes narrowing as if looking straight into the other woman’s soul, “if you do anything so rash as you did downstairs, if you intentionally injure yourself in any way, or attempt to harm my husband and I, we will consider a breech in this arrangement, and we will send you home.

“Once you have put on the cuffs, and secured them each with a lock, you will go and sit in that rocking chair.” Eva pointed to a very large, and very expensive vintage rocking chair, hand carved from solid walnut with an abundance of sweeping, swirling scrolls. The leather upholstery was equally masterful work, tufted, and smooth. It was more a throne, than a mere side chair in a bedroom.

“Permission? Did that woman say she had not permitted me to take this damn ball out of my mouth?”

Their destination, what looked like the master bedroom, came into view. Cassatt was relieved it wasn’t a basement or some dark unused rec room. However, the rhinoceros horn was still a puzzle. Did she want to eliminate it or use it for something more sinister? She would find out soon enough.

“The woman is an exceptional decorator,” Kat thought as she entered the Morello’s bedroom. With one look, Kat knew it was their bedroom by the room’s size, décor, and the way Eva moved through it. It was her domain. The study downstairs contained mementos. This room was full of treasures.

Kat did not like being ordered. Had her editor been there, and she wished he had, he would have attested to the fact. How many times had the two fought over stories, Kat lost count, but she knew she won most of the arguments. She regretted winning their last one. With a disgruntled sigh, Kat placed the horn on the vanity. While there, she stole a glance at the makeup and perfume.

She has good taste too. Dammit …

Still holding her arm, though it felt better, she watched Mrs. Morello retrieve and explain the four bondage cuffs and locks. The ballgag and handcuffs could be described as a fascination, a flirtation with kink. But, on the other hand, the expensive, fine-leathered cuffs painted a larger picture. At the very least, the couple indulged in bondage, maybe even BSDM. After Morello’s warnings, Kat backed herself to the wall as Eva presented the four cuffs and locks, instructing her on their safe use. It seemed the other woman did not want harm to come to her. Now she felt like a fatted calf.

Wear those cuffs? You psychotic bitch, you can’t be serious.

Kat shook her head as she held the black and gold wrist and ankle cuffs, but Eva only waited for Cassatt to comply. Finally, with a long sigh and a few unintelligible words through the gag, the journalist complied. First, she snapped the cuffs around her ankles, ensuring she could slide two between the leather and her skin. Second, she snapped the gold lock on each black cuff, securing them around her delicate ankles. Finally, she repeated the same steps with her wrists, snapping the soft, cushioned cuffs and locking each in place. Neither cuff was attached to the other, so Kat was somewhat puzzled about how Eva would keep her in the room outside Cassatt simply keeping her word.

Lastly, Kat sat in the chair and immediately began to rock. She was disappointed it didn’t have an annoying squeak. She rocked back and forth, angry, humiliated, and frightened. Motioning to the drool on her chin and blouse, the reporter looked up at Eva. The straps of the ballgag and the ball itself were starting to provide discomfort.

“What will Eva Braun do to me next?” she wondered. With a glance back at the rhinoceros horn, Kat decided she didn’t want to know.

Eva’s approval of Katharine’s cooperation was plain as she took out one last thing from that bottom drawer: a pair of double sided lobster clasps–also plated in gold. Gently she wrapped her subtly manicured hand around the objects and joined the lady in the rocking chair.

“Put your feet up on the seat of the chair, carefully. Yes. Like that.” Eva gave the woman time to adjust and position herself upright. “Now, put your arms next to your ankles…” she paused, waiting, “just a tad closer. There.”

Eva clasped the woman’s wrists to her ankles. First the left, followed by the right. For a mere moment, she looked at the restraints, and the woman’s position, ensuring nothing would pinch, pull or strain in any undesirable way. Once satisfied, Evan stood before the bound, and gagged woman, and then knelt down putting herself in a far more vulnerable position than it implied.

“Listen,” she said, looking up the line of Katharine’s lithe, utterly sexy form, “I see the fear in your eyes. I realize that you did not expect this. But, let me tell you something.” Eva leaned up, knowing how being so intimate and close would make the other woman squirm–of course, there was nowhere the woman could go, and nothing she could do restrained as she was. “But the body does not lie. I would be willing to bet that if I were to touch you now, you would be aroused. I can almost feel that heat from here, even if you will not let yourself feel it… yet.”

Eva smirked, then, and stood up just barely letting her fingers trail along her still depressingly clothed leg. She walked very, very slowly around the rocking chair, and instructed the woman to lean her head forward. “If you are ready to speak more respectfully, I will remove this.”

Gently, Eva removed the gag, loosening the buckle just enough to drop the soaked ball to Katharine’s chest. The woman’s chin was soaked, and in its own way, it was sexy as hell. It would have been so easy to lean in, and kiss that woman properly, to gently show the woman just how messy kinks could be… but… the reporter was clearly upset; if pushed too hard too soon, then this game would be over before it began.

“Now, you rest here. I will not be far away, and as soon as we’re set up, we’ll be able to start our vacation.”

Eva turned then and, once again, headed off to finish taking care of her business, and Katharine’s.

Notwithstanding the ballgag and the fancy bondage cuffs, Katherine felt like a child put on a time-out. Perhaps that’s what was the intent. The cuffs were comfortable, but the gag was irritating. Its strap dug into her cheeks, and the drool down her chin was humiliating. Yet, despite her discomfort, Kat observed Mrs. Morello, and her heart sank as the woman retrieved more gold-plated BDSM gear.

Cassatt’s blue eyes moved with Eva when the woman stepped toward her, further confining the woman in an awkward and embarrassing position. Her legs were somewhat spread apart, with her feet on the seat of the chair and her wrists fastened to her ankles. Though not bound to the chair, Cassatt didn’t readily see a way out of her predicament. Instead, she was more vulnerable than ever as Morello towered before her.

The woman squirmed in the new position, watching Eva as she knelt before her. Another lesson in etiquette from the gangster’s wife? She wished.

I would be willing to bet that if I were to touch you now, you would be aroused.

Kat writhed in the chair, tugging at the cuffs, slinging muffled curses at her abductor. Her eyes widened with terror; the pace of her breath quickened. Then, quickly, Cassatt slapped her knees together, though it would have been nothing for Eva to part them again. The journalist closed her eyes, her nostrils flaring, desperate for air while her heart pounded faster. She waited for Morello to extend her delicate, porcelain hand toward her sex. But the same hand grazed her leg instead. Cassatt flinched, rocking the chair back and forth.

Finally, Katherine felt Eva’s hand at the back of her head and a promise of release from the gag if she behaved. She nodded quickly, and the ball popped out. Kat worked her mouth to remove the ache while Eva watched on. “Thank you,” Kat said meekly.

Once Eva was gone to pack, Kat scouted the room for anything that would help her, but there was no escape in her position. The only keys to the cuffs were around Eva’s neck.

I can almost feel that heat from here.

Her captor’s words kept running through her mind, but they did give her an idea. Perhaps fighting back was the wrong approach. She wouldn’t lie down and take it, but Kat might be able to connect with the woman.

“This reminds me of when terrorists held a gun to my head. I was tied to a chair then, though they only used rope.” She winced as her arm, stretched around her knee, ached again. The hurt had almost worn off. “He was a very polite gentleman, educated at Oxford.” While she spoke, Kat tested the locks again. They were sturdy; no getting out of them. The clasps, however, offered some hope. Unfortunately, the cuffs, comfortable as they were, provided little movement of her wrist, but she had to try. “He never threatened me, well, the gun at my head did that, but my point is, we talked. First, he wanted information, and I had to refuse as we played our little game, but then I mentioned how beautiful the night sky was in that region. There were few lights so that you could see the milky way. Then when I told him I was an amateur astronomer, the man lit up.”

Katherine winced as she twisted her wrist, desperate to reach the clasp. She let out a small grunt but continued to speak. “We talked for an hour about our hobby, and yes, he probe – questioned me, and I averted, but the point is, the exchange was cordial—a lot like this. Despite a few bumps, you’ve been a delightful abductor. I would have obliged if I knew you wanted a more intimate interview. We could have shared tips and techniques.”

As hard as she tried, Kat could not remove the clasp. Her middle finger touched the trigger a couple of times, which was as close as she got. Cassatt gave up when Eva returned. “By the way, I really do have to pee.”

Eva ignored the request, at least, at first.

She had a cell phone in each hand, one of which was to her ear. First, she spoke Italian, explaining that she would like Ms. Cassatt’s income tax return delivered in a sealed envelope within twenty-four hours, as well as a full report on Manny’s success on integrating himself as a subletter to Cassatt’s apartment. Of course, planning for such trips always took a dozen or more calls, and as one call ended, another began, and this time she spoke in English, where she informed the pilot, and airline staff that they would be taking off on time today, and that she would be looking forward to the usual meal, and service. Once the call ended, she tossed her own phone onto the bed.

Closing in on the other woman, Eva could not help but smile. Katherine was quite a vision in that chair, sitting with legs teasingly parted, and blue eyes watching her. It was not a look of pleasure, though. At least, not yet. The woman was still afraid. It was only natural that being bound against one’s will would inevitably lead to harm… or worse. Only time would teach the woman otherwise.

“We’re almost ready to go,” Eva said, as she held Cassatt’s own phone in front of her face, giving the biometrics a moment to unlock the phone, “It will take me just a moment to reset this, and then… oh my!”

Eva opened up the recording app. “Have you been…? Oh, darling.” She laughed out loud. “I should have known. You are, afterall, the best in the business.”

She was still smiling, when she worked her way past the rest of the phone’s security, and then reconfigured biometric passwords. “There.” She tossed the other woman’s phone onto the bed, where it reseted down near the first. “Where we are going it is not likely that you will have cell phone service, but your phone’s WiFi should work. We will give you access when we arrive.”

Eva was standing over the other woman then, looking down at the bound woman in the chair. Her lips parted, as she wanted more than anything to lean down and kiss her. She wanted, more than anything, to slip her hand beneath her blouse, and see if those breasts were as playful as they seemed. It was becoming more and more difficult to play nice with this woman. No matter how afraid, or feisty this woman was, Eva knew–she just knew–that it was only a matter of time before she would happily play this game.

“We will be leaving soon,” she said as she leaned down and gently reached around to unclasp the woman’s necklace, “you may use my bathroom to freshen up as you see fit. I also have a fresh outfit for you, if you would like to wear something more comfortable. It will be a long flight, so I do hope you consider allowing yourself to be as comfortable as possible.”

Eva held the necklace up, examining it. “I should have known. It is a beautiful necklace, but not quite right with your blouse. Still, this will be fun to use later on.” She quickly, and carefully set it on the vanity next to the carved horn.

It took Eva no more than a minute to release Katherine from her bonds–both clasps and cusps. And, without another word, she took both the phones, the horn, and the necklace from the room, leaving the reporter the time needed for her to ready herself for departure.

“This seems like an expensive rocking chair. I wouldn’t think you’d want it ruined.” Morello, making plans via cell, continued to ignore Cassatt’s plea to visit the bathroom. Kat’s discomfort was hardly contained to her bladder. Constrained as she was, her forearms dug into the arms of the chair, causing a sharp, biting pain that accompanied the ache in her legs and shoulders as the bondage stretched them. The drool on her chin, a more humiliating form of discomfort, was partially excised from Kat rubbing her chin on her collar, though most of the saliva moved to her exposed chest. The journalist regretted wearing such a low-cut blouse.

While Mrs. Morello continued making plans for Europe, Katherine busied herself by filling in the blanks of a few treasures in Eva’s sanctuary. On the dresser sat an ornate oval silver frame with the photo of a woman and her daughter. Was this Eva’s mother? The woman was a redhead and striking in appearance, with a slight similarity to Kat’s abductor. Both were dressed for church and smiling like idiots. If love were a photograph, Katherine thought. Next to the portrait was a silver comb, possibly an heirloom. A picture of a younger Mr. Morello also adorned the dresser. His hair was shorter, and his eyes gleamed in a smile, though his lips did not curl. He bore the same look as on the laptop she had seen earlier.

Hearing footsteps outside the door, Cassatt spun her head to meet Eva, who moved toward the bound woman. Kat struggled in her bondage, attempting to force her legs together. The woman stripped Kat of her phone and necklace, commenting on the camera in the small gold jewelry and how fun it would be to play with it later. The reporter’s eyes narrowed at what Morello implied.

Eva smiled like a hungry hyena, ready to pounce on her prey as she moved over Kat. The journalist, with her legs parted, felt more vulnerable than ever. Katherine flinched each time Morello brushed against her flesh as she unsnapped the buckles, and a deeper fear settled into the reporter’s heart. Eva was right earlier. A touch, be it a hand on her hip, rosy lips on her breasts, or a slender finger down her neck, and Eva would – God, what if she were bound? Unable to –”

Katherine rose as soon as the cuffs were undone; however, her legs nearly fell asleep, and she stumbled to the bathroom. The door closed and locked even while Eva continued to speak.

After using the facility, Kat grabbed a tissue and wiped the saliva from her chin and chest. Sweat covered her body from fear. Her fingers still trembling, the journalist went for a comb but decided to shower instead. Like everything else in the home, the bathroom was exquisite, though a tad dark for Cassatt’s tastes. The wallpaper was a dark blue with a tiny black fleur-de-lis pattern. The large walk-in shower was also black and equipped with several soaps, shampoos, and oils. Katherine didn’t hesitate to help herself. What were they going to do? Kill her?

Beads of powerful hot water relaxed the woman’s muscles and body. Though still frightened, the shower helped calm her, and soon Cassatt stepped out of the shower, somewhat refreshed. In the mirror, she caught sight of her naked body, sheened with water. At 36, her breasts felt the tug of gravity, though they still had heft as they swayed. Still, with her 36-25-36 figure and flat, toned stomach, Kat couldn’t complain. However, Katherine’s jowls were noticeable without her makeup, as were the bags and crow’s feet under and around her eyes.

“What the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time, Cassatt?”

Closing her eyes and holding her body, a thousand scenarios flooded her mind again. During her time in Afghanistan and other war-torn regions, Katherine discovered how sex was used to punish or torture from local accounts. Her body shook as she allowed herself a moment of emotion.

I would be willing to bet that if I were to touch you now, you would be aroused.

Kat wiped away a few tears and ran to the window. Of course, she could open it, but what then? Suddenly, she remembered the pen in her jeans. A small data drive, which she used to copy the laptop, was hidden inside the pen, but Morello either forgot or never saw it.

…vacation with my wife and me in Europe for the next few weeks.

She would need tampons. Cassatt rummaged through Eva’s until she found what she needed. Then, the resourceful journalist inserted the pen into the tampon and then inserted the tampon into herself.

Katherine Cassatt wrapped herself in a large towel and combed her hair before exiting the bath. With her old clothes in a hamper, Kat vaguely recalled that Mrs. Morello had left a fresh outfit for her and quickly found it hanging just outside the closet, along with new undies and socks. The moss-colored ensemble was chic, with an off-white blouse, black boots, and camel colored coat. “I can’t fault the woman’s fashion sense,” Kat muttered begrudgingly. The underwear was a little more girlie than Cassatt was used to, but it would be comfortable along with the suit.

After dressing, Katherine unlocked and opened the door. Morello’s heels clipped along the floor as she heard Kat was finally finished.

“I guess I’m ready,” Cassatt said, following Morello downstairs. She saw the rhino horn, phone, and necklace near the exit. “What’s with the horn?” she asked. “Will you be stashing it in Europe like all your husband’s gifts, like the teapot and whatever else he brought back after a successful sale?”

The brunette stepped back, lowered her head, and clasped her hands behind her back. The journalist wouldn’t say another word for fear of the gag again, but Cassatt glared at Eva. She would play along for now.

Eva had been standing, her oversized sunglasses, framed by her full, fiery curls, lowered as she admired the other woman adorned simply, but aptly. Her instincts were never wrong, and the selection of Ms. Cassatt’s travel clothes were no exception. The other woman was a vision, even in modesty. Such clothes were not made to show off her feminine curves, or entice any sort of sex appeal. They were clothes of power, and confidence. The green of the blazer brightened her brunette hair, still slightly damp. Eva almost smiled, happy that Katherine chose to care for herself, even through her fears of personal safety. It was progress.

“What’s with the horn?” she asked. “Will you be stashing it in Europe like all your husband’s gifts, like the teapot and whatever else he brought back after a successful sale?”

Those large, shadowed sunglasses fell back to the ridge of her nose, covering Eva’s darkening eyes. The next breath she took was slow, and measured as she stepped toward the horn resting there next to the necklace, and the phone. She was suddenly glad for the long sleeves of her semi-sheer blouse, and the sand-colored faux fur vest that would keep her warm as she usually found herself chilly on long flights. Her ensemble was complete with skinny black pants, with matching black boots that left none of her petite curves to the imagination. Unfortunately, it did little to warm her from the cold she felt at that moment.

“You know what your problem is, Ms. Cassatt,” she said, choosing anger over taunting, while her fingers lightly traced around smooth, wavy curves of the carved horn, made to look like a lotus with a small monkey looking up on one end, and a lion stalking around on the other, “is you assume this is a trophy. That this carving is some symbol of the Morello power and status. That we keep it here as a ‘fuck you’ to the authorities.

“I bet you think you have us all figured out.” Eva simply shook her head and slipped the object on the table into her large black tote. “Which is why this little bauble is coming with us. Where you go, it goes, and sooner or later you might just understand.”

As Eva walked out the front door of her own home, she knew that Katherine Cassatt would follow. If she had not been intrigued before, then extortion would keep her moving forward–fear or no–and now the less than subtle hint of mystery was more than enough to fuel the investigator within.

The Morello private jet was ready as they drove onto the airstrip in a rather large, and cliche black SUV. Eva used that time to regain her calm and composure, ignoring and actively tuning out any questions from their pet reporter. She maintained her quiet until they were at a comfortable cruising altitude and the seatbelt sign was off.

The cabin of the jet was small, but spacious. The colors were a simple contrast of black and white. The main room was a series of chairs, and sofas, with a few tables here and there, and, of course a nicely stocked mini-bar. The other room was an office for Mr. Morello to work while in flight. Business, especially international business, was truly a round-the-clock job.

Eva did not particularly care for having more than one flight attendant on flight, and that was only because it was required. Usually she made her own drinks, and kept dining to a bare minimum. Besides, there were only two things to do on long flights. The first was to sleep, and the other was to play. She knew what she hoped to do on this flight….

“May I make you a drink?” Eva asked as she started to mix chilled gin and vermouth in just the right proportions, soon to be topped with a sinful amount of green olives. “If you decide you’re hungry at all, you may help yourself at any time, or if you find it easier, just ask.”

“I must have struck a nerve,” thought Katherine after Mrs. Morello’s scolding her about the rhino horn. Kat shrugged and followed the woman to her black SUV, forcing back a chuckle at the cliché. Once on the road, the journalist continued to prod the redhead, mostly making chit-chat about Morello’s home and décor. “Everything is so particular in your home. Do you lay it out or go with your design sense?” She equated much of the home furnishings with symbols of power or structure, but Eva remained silent.

The rhinoceros horn did fascinate Katherine as a mystery rather than a trophy. Once she was certain Mrs. Morello would not converse, Kat reshuffled her thoughts onto the peculiar carved piece. The smuggled data drive was causing some slight discomfort, considering where it was hidden, but she would live through it.

It was foolish for Cassatt to hope that the Morello’s traveled like everyone else as the SUV arrived at a private hangar. She knew Alexander owned a private jet; as expected, the interior was luxurious. The two women, who had not spoken since they left the Morello home, settled in for the long flight. Cassatt, who had made such a trip numerous times, usually brought a tablet, laptop, or book. On the Morello flight, she had neither. So instead, she watched as Eva made herself a martini and offered to make a drink for Kat.

“It’s a little early for my usual, but I am starving, so I’ll have chicken alfredo and a glass of Orvieto if you have it.” Once her order was in, Kat stood, excusing herself from Eva’s company. “If you could point me to the lady’s room, I’d appreciate it. I have a private matter to attend to.” Usually, Kat would have said nothing regarding her second visit to the lavatory in as many hours, but she feared Eva might become suspicious. Once excused, she entered the tiny toilet and locked the door, fumbling with her slacks until she removed the tampon and the pen hidden within. The woman breathed a sigh of relief, but she had a quandary. Where to hide the data drive. Quickly, she stuck it in her boot for the time being, flushed the tampon, and returned to her seat.

“It’s a nice jet,” Kat said, making conversation. Morello’s jet was smaller than she expected, but it may have been one of many. “The accommodations are very comfortable,” she said, patting the cushion beside her. A few awkward minutes later, the pretty blonde flight attendant arrived with the food. Wasting no time, Katherine dug into the alfredo. At that moment, the creamy pasta and the hearty, fresh chicken were among the best meals she had ever had. “My compliments to the chef. This is outstanding.” As was the wine. The famished journalist said nothing as she ate, savoring each bite as if it were her last. For all she knew, it was. Not that she felt any safer, but Cassatt did expect to reach Europe alive. After that, she had no clue.

Finished with her meal, Katherine gave the blonde attendant a bright smile as she cleared the dishes. She held on to the glass of wine, requesting only one more. As the flight would last at least eight hours, the reporter removed her shoes and socks, stuffing the stockings into one shoe. She propped the footwear next to her on the sofa for easy reach.

“It’s a symbol,” Kat said, pointing her big toe to the tote bag containing the horn. “The lotus flower could symbolize inner peace or rebirth. On the other hand, the lion is a predator, so it’s dangerous. In this case, it’s stalking the monkey. As for the monkey, it could symbolize innocence, mischief, wisdom, or luck.” She shrugged. “A necessary evil to bring peace to the world?” It was only a guess and probably wrong. What it meant to Eva was likely far more personal.

Removing her blazer, Cassatt folded it over her boots and stood up, moving closer to Eva. “Do you have any music?” But, of course, they did, and Kat was given a tablet with a list of songs, some classics, light jazz, and old favorites. Her lips curled into a smile as she queued the song.

“The meaning is not as blatant as you may think, Mrs. Morello.” Kat stepped closer, her knee disappearing into the soft cushion beside Eva. “It’s a statement against society from a gay woman in 1964.” Cassatt whipped her long brunette locks out of her face and, again, moved closer. “You’ve made your intentions quite clear, Eva, so I’ll play.” Kat moved in quickly, kissing the woman’s full, red lips, allowing her finger to slide down the pulse of her neck. She then moved away to study Morello. Always in control, Kat wondered what Eva would do next.

The music meant nothing to Eva. Sometimes, a song was just a song, and did nothing to distract her from closing her eyes and savoring the taste of that kiss. Her lips spread slowly, as she gently licked her lips. The game began hours ago, from the moment Katherine Cassatt walked into her home, but it was only now she knew that Cassatt was ready to play.

Good.

Ever so carefully, Eva polished off her third martini of the evening, and set the empty glass down in a holder.

“Are you?” Eva asked, slowly unfurling herself from the sofa. She sauntered over to her large tote, pulling out the same leather cuffs and locks from before and setting them out on the opposite sofa neatly. The key to those locks were still hanging around her neck, and she pulled the chain out from beneath her blouse.

For a minute, she stood there, her gaze down on the other woman. Though her small, telling smile remained, her eyes darkened, and slowly she shrugged out of her fur vest, tossing casually on the sofa as she closed the distance to the other woman. She wasted no time straddling the reporter, sitting squarely in her lap. “You were terrified of this arrangement earlier; terrified of me. Are you truly ready to do this?”

Eva’s lips parted, as she leaned in closer, her lips hovering just barely over Katherine’s lips, dark eyes daring those blues to show fear again, or better yet, a challenge. She raked those delicate nails lightly down the other woman’s jawline. “Show me you are ready, seal our bond with another kiss and then go and put those on, just like I showed you. And then you will choose.

“You will choose to either remove your clothes, or you will choose to remove mine.” Eva leaned in yet closer, her lips tracing atop hers. “You will want to choose wisely.”

That kiss — soft, warm, wet. That kiss. It was better than she imagined. Katherine accepted Eva momentarily, then backed away to study her adversary. Mrs. Morello did not disappoint.

Curious blue eyes moved with Eva, observing her movements, smile, and especially those dark brown eyes. Mrs. Morello delighted in boasting her tell. Perhaps her confidence was worth the hubris. Not that it mattered now. Kat had tossed down the gauntlet, and the game was afoot.

Frightened, Cassatt shifted her body uncomfortably when Eva produced the cuffs and locks from the tote. They were the same ones from the bedroom. But Kat had enough of fear. She would meet Morello’s challenge and watched as Eva taunted her with the key, exposed above her blouse. She could reach out and —

Katharine trembled at Eva’s touch, nails teasing her jawline. Their lips were only a whisper apart.

“Show me your courage….”

Kat slid her hand around the back of Eva’s neck. Her lips parted. They kissed again, rolling their lips together, tongues tasting, savoring the moment. But Cassatt did not pull away. Instead, she pressed further, deepening the kiss, lips smacking while her free hand touched the redhead’s breast as she painted Eva’s lips, cheeks, and chin with her kisses.

Finally, Cassatt pulled away. A string of saliva bridged between their lips momentarily. “I was afraid of you and your husband. I still am, but I cannot allow the fear to control me.” she looked down at Eva’s chest. Kat’s fingers were wrapped around the key. All she had to do was rip it off the woman’s neck, but she had no doubt Morello allowed Cassatt to snatch it.

Katherine rose from the sofa, retrieved the cuffs and locks, and set them on the table. “A few years ago, I did a piece on the BDSM lifestyle, but my editor thought it was too spicy. So later, I published it online under a pseudonym, Louisa Brant.” Cassatt savored Morello in the near-see-through blouse and tight leather pants. “Please undress.”

Then, with some difficulty, Katharine put the cuffs on her wrist and snapped both gold locks into place. A smile spread across her face as Eva stepped out of her clothes. Kat was still dressed in her blouse and slacks. “I learned a lot during that assignment, including the number one rule of any kink play. Trust is paramount.” Lifting her arms, Kat showed Eva her bound wrists. “I’m trusting you with that key, and you will trust me with your body.”

The woman was a vision, and Katherine would not deny herself a long, hungry look. Her skin was pale white with delicate veins merely indicated here and there. Moving toward Eva, Kat kissed down the pulse of the woman’s neck, her short nails teasing the areola of the breasts. Around and around, softly, slowly, her touch never hit Eva’s hard, pink nipple. Instead, her lips touched Morello’s delicate throat, her hot tongue tracing muscles and bone in the vulnerable spot. Fingers moved to sensitive nipples, tugging playfully as lips drew a serpentine line from the redhead’s neck to her breasts.

Katherine smiled upward as her lips grabbed a mound of flesh, nibbling on Eva’s breasts, moving from one to the other, her fingers tickling the woman’s nipples. Then, finally, her bound hands moved downward, just above Eva’s sex, while she kissed and suckled her near-perfectly round tits before she knelt on the floor.

Kat admired Eva’s slit momentarily, smirking at the glistening juice around the puffy vulva. She savored the aroma before flattening her tongue, dragging it over her exposed, shaven pussy.

Without a word, Cassatt shifted Eva onto the sofa and her back. Then, she stuffed a soft pillow underneath her bottom, lifting the woman’s exposed sex. Parting her legs, Cassatt lowered her face and lapped like a kitten. An experienced tongue swirled within the fleshy folds, eliciting gentle moans from her captor. The woman’s wetness allowed Katherine to push her fingers inward, circling her finger at Eva’s spot as her tongue swished through her pink fleshy bits.

Soon, sopping-wet fingers fucked the redhead hard as gentle kisses encircled the clit, further igniting pleasures built up over hours. Kat did not let up, only periodically rising for air but immediately going back, her lips and tongue dancing between Eva’s thighs, folds, and clitoris. Within minutes, Morello crescendoed, crying out in deep breathless moans. Then, almost lovingly, Katherine licked the woman’s sex, urging her down.

Soft kisses cascaded from Eva’s sex to her thighs, around her rump, and down the curvature of her leg, finally sinking her teeth into the woman’s calf. Her tongue then skated along the pale flesh, stopping at the mound. Katherine rose, leaving the woman somewhat wanting more.

“Once you dress, I would appreciate it if you removed these cuffs,” Katherine said as she stood. “I’m sure I could do so much more unshackled.”

Eva’s breathing slowed, but her gaze remained unfocused as she looked at the other woman. Pleased as she was, her body well satisfied, she merely smiled and shook her head. The reporter thought she knew about BDSM. She had conducted research, and then wrote an article. No one would truly understand that world unless they had experienced it. Felt it. Lived it. Given themselves over to another completely.

Slowly, she set herself upright, and stood, facing Katherine. They were nearly the same height, but even as Eva was an inch or two shorter, there was no mistaking her sense of power. Even in her nudity, her alabaster skin still hot and flushed, she met those challenging blue eyes: the ones that were not pleading, but demanding for release from those bindings. And, of course, Eva was all too happy to deny that request.

Reaching out, Eva tugged at Katherine’s blouse, pulling it free from the waistband of her slacks. “So eager to be done, are you?” She pulled that blouse quickly over the other woman’s head, giving her the choice to go with it, or to struggle. Either way, Eva tossed the shirt over onto the growing scatter of clothes. Then, she ran her fingers along the other woman’s shoulders, tracing her fingers gently down the woman’s arms, knowing in the cool air of the cabin it would cause a chill. Still, her fingers traced lower until she felt the edge of those cuffs where she enjoyed toying with those tiny locks just long enough to tease Katherine with a terrible reminder of their presence, and the unuttered promise that they would only be removed only when she was ready.

“You are correct, though,” she said, going over to her tote, and pulling out one of those all-too-familiar lobster clips. “Submission and sex is first and foremost about trust. So, the question is, my dear Ms. Cassatt. How much are you willing to trust us?” Eva took one of Katherine’s wrists into her grasp, and hooked the lobster clip to the first cuff. “Can you dismiss your fear long enough to learn the second most important rule of this game?” Eva took the other woman’s wrist, tugging it gently, but firmly behind the woman’s back, securing both wrists with the clip. “Do you even know the second rule? Or, perhaps, in all your research did you let your hubris decide to stop with trust?”

Eva chuckled, placing a finger over the woman’s lips, quieting her response before it even began, while she looked at the bound woman as a predator stalking prey. “I already know your answer.” The woman’s dark eyes lowered then, taking in the sight of those small breasts, still held firmly within a low cut, cyanic-blue bra she had picked out specifically to match those cold, intelligent eyes, now widened. Could it be that fear was mounting again? Eva could do anything to this woman now, and even with a struggle, Eva knew she would win. Katherine surely knew it too.

Next, Eva moved to unfasten those slacks, slowly pushing them down to the woman’s ankles, making sure that her hands found different parts of her exposed flesh to touch: hips, buttocks, thighs, until gravity took over and Katherine’s pants pooled on the floor around her ankles. The reporter’s panties, edged with soft, scrolling lace, of course, matched the bra. And Eva again stepped back to admire her own sense of style, and taste. The other woman was a vision: such long, and lithe limbs set against subtle curves. “You, Katherine Cassatt, are a gorgeous woman.” Eva could not help herself, the compliment being nothing short of genuine.

“Now, sit, my dear,” Eva helped her sit, “and spread your legs. Yes, mmm, yes just like that.”

Eva slowly ran her hands up Katherine’s thighs, pushing those legs as wide as they would go, mindful to position the woman into a lounging position just so that her own body would not press or pinch against the bindings. Even better, though, it was a terribly compromising state to be in; the poor reporter would not be able to do anything to stop Eva’s hands from exploring all that exposed flesh. She could do nothing but complain–if she so chose–and pout, and resist with her usual tactics of wit and logic.

“The truth is, Ms. Cassatt,” Eva said, her hands roaming upwards seeking those perfectly shaped breasts, “that it is not only you that needs to learn to trust me,” her hands cupped both breasts, the pads of her thumbs rubbing that gauzy fabric against what she knew would be full, rosy buds, “I need to trust you as well.” Gently, she pulled the fabric of the bra down, exposing Katherine’s breasts, and she leaned up to kiss, and suckle one breast until it was soaked and taut. “I want you to show me when it feels good, but more importantly, I expect you to let me know when it hurts.” This time when Eva kissed and teased the other nipple, she added her teeth, biting down just hard enough to hear the other woman cry out.

“That’s a good reporter,” Eva said, grinning wide as she repositioned herself on the sofa next to Katherine, keeping one leg firmly draped over the bound woman’s leg, a subtle reminder to keep those wide open legs. But, even there, Eva did not stop her exploration of Katherine’s flesh. She gently caressed, and suckled that one punished nipple, until she could see the woman’s breath catch.

“Mmm, yes, I do believe that you are quite aroused. Dare you admit to enjoying our game?” Eva moved her hand low, her hand cupping that hot, wanting space between Katherine’s legs. “Always remember, your body does not lie.” Eva pushed aside the panties, her fingers slipping between those slick folds, to stroke the other woman’s clit. Over, and over she stroked that tender spot, watching the woman’s eyes, and her body’s responses. Eva stretched her bare body against Katherine’s, holding her close, using her free hand to tease and toy with those lovely, lovely breasts.

“I can tell how much you are enjoying this,” Eva whispered into Katherine’s ear, “are you close?”

It was another rhetorical question, but one that came with a full and sudden stop. Eva stopped her teasing, and she looked intently into those bright blue eyes. She might have smiled too, but that would have been just a little too cruel, perhaps. “I will only give you release if you allow me to gag you with the object of my choosing.”

In hindsight, Eva never agreed to anything. Of course, Katherine hoped she would honor the bargain and unshackle her, but that she didn’t wasn’t exactly a surprise. Her chin was still wet with Eva’s juices.

Kat felt her heart racing as Eva’s naked form approached; her fear rose again as she pulled away, but where could she run on a jet? The brunette struggled as Morello tugged at the bound woman’s blouse, but soon, Kat made herself compliant, contorting her body to aid Eva in removing the garment.

Kat’s fear never faded, though she hid it well during her intimate moments with the redhead. But now, the reporter was scared as her slacks hit the floor and Eva’s fingers explored her freckled body. A delicate nail trailing up Katherine’s inside thigh caused a quiver in the brunette’s legs. She giggled and danced for a moment, scrunching her eyes shut.

As her cuffs were repositioned, Kat spun her head around, her brown and blonde locks whipping to the side. She could not see her hands. “Nnngghh.” Panic flushed over her face, forcing Kat to breathe deeply through her nose and exhale through her mouth. Mentally, she counted to five, and soon Kat was on the mend, though her eyes remained alert.

“Thank you,” Kat said as Morello called her beautiful. But the brunette felt like a little girl about to be punished when she was forced onto the sofa and her legs spread. “Stiff upper lip!” Katherine’s father said to little Katherine whenever she was scared or felt like crying. She watched helplessly as Eva toyed with her bra, finally kissing and touching her exposed nipple. Desperately, the journalist attempted to keep herself composed.

“God. Please stop it. Please … stop.”

It was no use. Katherine turned her reddened face away as shame claimed her. Eva’s lips felt so good around Kat’s pink nub.

Lips pressing down.

The dizzying feeling would soon become torture as Cassatt had no control over her pleasure. She squirmed and rolled her neck to try and counter the euphoria.

Hot tongue swirling and stabbing the puffed bundle of nerves.

The brunette’s bound hands clenched into fists behind her back as her drenched sex already beaconed for relief. This terrified Katherine the most. Yes, she was aroused. But, more than that, she enjoyed it. Eva’s perfect body was so close. Kat wanted her again.

Teeth biting down.

Cassatt let out a squeal as her nipple was assaulted. “…I expect you to let me know when it hurts.”

“What the fuck – ooohhh ….” The pain was fleeting, but the pleasure drove Katherine mad, and Eva was likely just getting started; the redhead’s alabaster fingers moved to her thighs, scooting her panties over. Kat held her breath, watching as her vulnerable sex became a toy for Mrs. Morello.

“Goddamnit! Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stop it, please. I’m begging you!”

Katherine would not voice her objections verbally; her soft moans, subtle cries, and desperate whimpers were enough embarrassment for the journalist. The ecstasy mounted when Morello fingered Cassatt, thrusting her pale digit inside her, teasing the bound woman’s breasts simultaneously.

“Are you close?”

Before she could think, Katherine nodded quickly. Then everything stopped. Kat was suffocating without that feeling. “N-no ….” Her eyes begged Eva to continue when Cassatt was told the price.

“Another ballgag? At least it would be something to bite on.”

Hair matted to her face; sweat beaded over her body. Kat, defeated at that moment, hung her head and nodded. “B-but – but not just yet, please.” Kat needed to catch her breath. “Pl-please, let me say this.” The bound woman breathed in and out slowly until her breathing returned to normal. She raised her head high. “Consent is number two. Give yourself freely. Three, safety, hurt, but don’t harm,” Cassatt said through her disheveled hair. “Followed by knowing yourself and your limits. Be patient, caring, and respectful.” There were other rules of BDSM she couldn’t recall. “But everyone’s rules are different as every relationship is different.” The woman shrugged, a subtle smirk flashing on her face momentarily.

“Whatever you think of me, know that I am a goddamned good reporter.” Her moment of hubris over, Kat glared at her naked captor, yet again, tossing down the gauntlet. “Is this some after-school special? You want to teach me the meaning of kink like it was Christmas, love, or a bill. Then do me a fucking favor and get it over with.”

Eva chuckled, with a chilling edge that matched her narrow glare. So many biting responses came to her, and yet none of them seemed worth it. Instead, she moved herself to sit before the woman, and reached for the hem of those soft blue panties. At first, she just tugged at them a bit, only to release and let it lightly snap back into place. “Hmmm, this will do.”

It required only patience to remove the panties. Eva merely waited through the inevitable resistance, and scathing remarks. When they were finally free and in her hand she sat up, straddling Katherine’s delicious and helpless form. She made a show of bunching up those panties, nice and small, then held the wad up to the woman’s lips. Her ever present grin widened. “The choice is yours, Ms. Cassatt.”

It was not long before Katherine accepted the panties, and Eva pushed them in firmly, but gently, filling the other woman’s mouth with the fabric that smelled, and certainly tasted of her own arousal. “Mmm, much better. Now, then,” Eva said, as she ran her hands along Katherine’s thighs, gently pushing them as wide as they would go, “don’t you dare let those come out.”

Without any further hesitation, Eva slipped her tongue into the woman’s sex, seeking, tasting, savoring the already present pleasure. With her thumbs she then gently spread her labia, and she teasingly flicked at that ripe, wanting nub with her tongue. She took her time flicking, teasing, swirling her tongue, giving all focus to that one spot. It was only when the woman started to writhe, and let out muffled moans did she slow down, at little. At this rate it would be no time at all before Katherine would come, and so, Eva held back.

Instead of pushing the woman to immediate orgasm, she pulled back, planting kisses, along the woman’s thighs, she reached up and gave renewed attention to those ever sensitive breasts, kissing, suckling, kneading, and occasionally nipping. In time, she returned down lower, this time slipping one finger, and then two into the woman’s spot, slipping her fingers in and out again slowly, but rhythmically, as she gave new attention to Katherine’s clit. And Eva knew the woman was close to orgasm. Using her fingers to stroke faster, keeping her attention focused on those key pleasure spots, she only stopped when the bound woman’s body slumped.

Chuckling, she sat upright, and looked up at the woman, her stuffed face looking tired, but well satisfied. “Think you can do that again?” Eva asked as repositioned herself, once again lightly straddling the other woman. “You are bound, gagged, trapped beneath me,” she taunted as she gently brushed back the woman’s mussed hair, “you are so intensely beautiful, and powerful. Not to mention sexy.” As she spoke, she dragged her fingers gently along the woman’s jaw, and neck, followed by gentle kisses in those same spots. Eva gave new attention to Katherine’s breasts before reaching down between Katherine’s legs, where her fingers tested the sensitivity of her already well pleasured sex. “Just touching you keeps me aroused, and knowing how well I can bring you again, and again if I wanted to. Oh mio caro giornalista.”

And so Eva did. She pleasured Katherine again, watching the woman writhe, struggle, and resist, and ultimately orgasm a second time.

[hr][/hr]

After all was said and done, Eva was, in a word, exhausted. She gently removed the panties from Katherine’s mouth, as well as the clip holding the cuffs together. She did, however, keep those cuffs nice and secured with the little locks. It was rather fun tormenting the other woman with them.

Otherwise, she gave Katherine time to clean up and dress in the lavatory first, and Eva did the same as soon as she was done. Tired as she was, Eva offered bottled water to Katherine, and helped herself to one as well.

There was quite a few hours left of the flight, which would be good for only one thing: sleep.

“You’re out of your fucking mind.” Kat balked as Eva toyed with the journalist’s panties. The bound woman squirmed and kicked while Morello gently tugged at the azure blue undergarments, and for the first time, Kat deliberately kept her legs apart. With Cassatt’s bra at her waist and the straps acting as restraints around her arms, the reporter was nearly naked as it was. Losing her panties was one more violation, an embarrassment to shame her further. And Eva was eating it up. “Please, I’m sure you have some clean ones somewhere. If you have to –” Mrs. Morella didn’t flinch, nor did Kat’s begging hinder her task. Instead, the luscious redhead continued to pull. With her hands bound behind her back, Kat could only thrash and buck, which did little to deter Eva. Eventually, the woman stood, forced Kat’s legs together, and pulled the panties off.

“Don’t,” Kat said, watching Eva bundle the panties in her hand, but nothing the journalist said deterred the redhead. When Kat felt the fabric enter her mouth, she wanted to gag, not because of the taste, but the thought and the shame of it. Humiliation was not an element Cassatt enjoyed, though, for Eva, the journalist’s predicament seemed to edge her on. This was not the first time Katherine tasted herself. She often relished suckling her juices from the delicate finger of a beautiful woman.

Closing her eyes, Katherine knew what would happen next, and predictably she felt Eva’s fingers on her thighs before Mrs. Morello made her descent. “Nmmmhhhh” The brunette moaned through the gag, feeling Eva’s expert tongue in her sex, and despite her best efforts, Cassatt quickly succumbed to the exquisite pleasures. She only realized that everything led to this point when she walked into Morello’s home. So foolish she was to play into Eva’s trap. Cassatt was like a black widow feasting on her life force.

Opening her eyes, all she saw of Eva was the top of her red mane, her head rhythmically moving along with her sensuous, hot tongue. Torturous laps around Cassatt’s clit drove her to the edge, only for Eva to deny her. No longer was the reporter pleading for rescue; her eyes begged her captor for release from the delicious agony. Like some evil succubus, Eva seemed only to relish Kat’s torment as skilled fingers and lips softly toyed with her breasts while her tortured sex convulsed, pleading for release. By the time Eva was ready to spend mercy upon Kat, the journalist was beating her head against the sofa, twisting her body, anything to counter the deliciousness of the moment.

Katherine’s muscles contracted as the euphoric phase washed over her body. A glowing warmth overtook her, gifting the brunette a feeling of acceptance, love, and radiance. In those moments, she would have gladly downed in Eva’s arms, submitting herself body and soul to the beautiful redhead. But, as always, the feeling was fleeting and washed away. Cassatt slowly looked up at her abductor as shame again crept into her heart. Hoping it was over, Katherine watched helplessly as Eva retook her. Just before her mind disappeared into a velvety bliss, a terrible thought entered her mind. Mrs. Morello’s torments were only the prep. What would happen to the poor reporter once they landed in Europe? Through Mrs. Morello’s exquisite techniques, Katherine disappeared into a delicious agony that started affecting her like a drug.

In the lavatory, naked and still bound, Katherine glanced into the mirror. Tiny red bruises and lipstick covered her breasts and thighs. “You were raped,” she said to her reflection. No other description sufficed. But what about before? Did she not do the same thing to Eva? Cassatt looked away. “No … yes. But I couldn’t – I did.” Kat hung her head, light brown locks dangling over her eyes as she cried.

Ms. Cassatt freshened up again and changed back into the clothes furnished by Eva. Mostly she wanted to be rid of the redness in her eyes. Would Morello even care if Katherine was so distraught? She decided she didn’t want to know and wiped the tears away as best as possible.

Neither woman spoke to the other as Kat was handed a water bottle. After the sex, Kat needed replenishing and finished the first bottle in one sitting. Then, she set the empty bottle aside and curled up on the couch. Sleep came quickly.

Ms. Cassatt abruptly woke as the plane touched down on a private runway. The brunette bolted from her seat to look out of the window. She didn’t recognize the surroundings or the airport, and Europe was big. From the tiny window, she could only see a few mountains in the distance. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Likely, she wouldn’t see much of the countryside anyway. At that thought, her heart beat rapidly. Whatever the Morellos had in store for her was fast approaching, and if Mr. Morello was anything like his wife, she had much to fear.

Gentle pastels of sunrise exhaled over calm, nearly still water. Exquisite coastal land stretched out as far as the eye could see, and not even the tarmac could mar a beauty that only the Mediterranean sea could offer. Cyprus, an ancient and enduring civilization, small yet mighty, quietly nestled at the heart of four major players of the world: Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and Europe. It was a forgotten world without limelight, or media. Eva loved it here; she was free, and at peace.

Thankfully, one of the perks of wealth and power meant that an SUV, not unlike the one that shuttled them to the airport earlier, met the women as they disembarked from the plane. In no time what little luggage they had was loaded, and it was just over an hour to drive inland to Moniatis, a pleasantly small community resting at the base of the island’s tallest mountain, aptly named Mount Olympus (known as Chionistra in the native tongue).

The villa, encompassed by the natural forests of the Troodos range, was as grand as one might expect, with tall, thick walls surrounding the perimeter. The architecture was, perhaps, a bit dated, but it was no less a vintage relic than anything else the Morello’s owned. Such a passion for old, valuable things was something both Alexander, and Eva shared. It was how they met. And how they fell in love.

Eva remembered that day well, when she stood in the wings of the convention center, waiting to perform her duty of trading out items on the auction floor. That day, however, he was the only thing she watched, that dark, and unusual man of unmatched power dressed in the finest of Italian tailorship. Her eyes never left his, and his eyes met hers only once–a brief moment that might as well been forever–before he returned his attention to the item he sought, a very rare, and nearly priceless antique rhinoceros horn. Throughout the entire evening, he might as well have been a seated statue, resting in the fourth row, three chairs from the center. He was as cool and calm as Eva had ever seen a poster at an auction. Of course, he had attended that auction to acquire only one item: an old, and highly valuable rhinoceros horn, finely carved into the shape of a lotus, and set into a rare wood, just as finely carved with the likenesses of a tiger stalking a monkey.

The bidding for the carving went on longer than some items, but shorter than others. Alexander Morello was utterly smooth, and subtle with his gestures, his lips curved with a gentle air of confidence that filled the room. Eva nearly cheered when he won the bid, and it took the auctioneer three tries to get Eva’s attention to do her job. The auction house fired her at the end of the night. It didn’t matter though, as the man of her dreams introduced himself that night, and invited her to join him for a drink. She knew, in that very moment, that she would spend her life with that man.

And that man was standing in the driveway as their car rolled up the drive.

He was casually dressed in light, washed out jeans and an off-white button down shirt. His skin held a permanent tan against pitch-black hair, and penetrating, dark umbra eyes. Usually he kept his face clean-shaven, but Eva smirked as she saw that he hadn’t shaved yet today. It meant he was feeling playful. And, tired as she was from the flight, her body warmed at the mere thought.

Eva could never contain her excitement when reuniting with her husband. He was often traveling for business, or and quite often she too went all over the world on philanthropic trips. The best part of any time apart, was that moment when they returned to one another’s arms.

Unable to contain her giddiness, Eva turned to Katherine, who seemed a million miles away as she looked out the car’s tinted window. Eva slipped her hand into the other woman’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “come, dear, my husband is excited to have you here. We both are.”

However, Eva did not push. Instead, she opened her car door, leaving it open for Katherine when she was ready and instead Eva left the vehicle and wasted no time jumping into her husband’s open and ready arms. Alexander’s smile was genuine as he picked her up, and swung her around, planting little kisses upon her brow and cheeks, whispering sweet words of love and welcome into her ear. As he put her down to the ground, their lips met and bodies pressed together. No words were needed to express their love, and Eva was certain that they always knew one another’s hearts and minds.

They only broke their embrace when they sensed Katherine drawing near. Both Eva and Alexander turned to welcome the other woman. As Eva met the other woman’s cool blue eyes, she smiled, blushing slightly as she fondly remembered the ecstasy they shared in flight. God, what a magnificent woman the reporter was!

It was Alex who first broke the silence. “Welcome Ms. Cassatt. I am honored that you chose to join us.” He offered his hand to the woman. “Let us show you our home. Here, you are our guest, and as such you shall want for nothing while you are here. We have several rooms prepared for your personal use. And, when you desire it, you will be welcome to come and go around the island as you please. If you do not speak Greek, then our driver Iason will accompany you as a translator. Elpida, our housekeeper will also be available should there be anything you need.”

Afghanistan – Ten years ago.

Hands bound by zip ties, blindfolded, and curled up in the back of a white 1984 Toyota pickup truck, Katherine Cassatt, a British journalist, rode with two other UK marines, bound for parts unknown. They were captured after their convoy hit an IED. Four other marines, three men and one woman, did not survive the attack. Dust stirred around the little pickup as it bumped and rocked over what passed for roads in the area. Katherine could hear the terrorists talking and laughing in their native language. She knew a little Dari, but only enough to ask for directions. What the men were saying, she could not decipher.

The truck hit another cluster of large rocks. Katherine flinched, her head striking the naked metal bed repeatedly. “You like our roads?” The terrorist asked in English with a heavy Farci accent. When the journalist did not respond, he kicked her in the ass with his boot. The brunette grunted loudly, more frightened than hurt. The man, covered in black robes with a white turban on his head, chuckled at the woman’s whimpers.

“Leave her alone!” shouted one of the marines. He received a rifle butt to the head for his gallantry. Kat’s body jostled again. More rocks.

“Maybe we’ll fuck her before you,” the terrorist laughed. “You can listen to the western whore moan,” he said and patted her on the rump. Kat’s heart pounded as her body shook. She inhaled and exhaled rapidly, nearing hyperventilation. “Don’t worry, little western whore; we’ll take good care of you. No one’s going to hurt you.” The man cackled and stomped his foot on the bed of the truck.

The journey lasted another 30 minutes. Kat felt like she had been beaten due to the poor conditions of the roads. As her blindfold was removed, the afternoon light blinded her. She shut her eyes and ducked her head as they were escorted into a lonely, old building. The scent of decay and death lingered in the air. Her body shook again.

Cypress – Present

The ride from the hangar was smooth. Inside the SUV, her hands bound, lying in her lap, Kat sat away from Eva. Looking out of the window, savoring Cyprus, its waters, and its landscapes, Mrs. Morello’s face was alive with a radiant pleasure. Cassatt knew the look. She experienced such euphoria upon seeing Stockholm and its many-colored homes and buildings contrasted by an impossibly blue sea. Her abductor knew love, though that was no surprise. The very sight of Eva Morello told the story of a woman of passion, no matter how stoic or cold she presented herself. That control was a mask for the real woman, which Kat had seen only a glimpse of.

The Republic of Cyprus was a beautiful island; though Katherine had never been, she knew the Mediterranean well. Lebanon was less than 200 kilometers from the island nation, and Kat had friends there, but it might as well have been on the moon. Still cuffed, Cassatt sat in the SUV quietly as her heart raced. The ride was comfortable, and the surroundings beautiful, but she couldn’t shake the memory of Afghanistan. The vehicle turned into the drive of a lovely, though antiquated, villa. Cassatt, her heart beating faster, watched Eva run to her husband’s arms. The reporter would admit to a bit of jealousy at the affection the Morellos had for each other.

Inhaling and exhaling, Kat calmed herself before exiting the vehicle. Mr. Morello spotted her immediately while Eva was content to drink in the presence of her man. He was more disheveled than she had imagined. Still, the man was quite handsome, and Eva was lucky. They were both fortunate with money, love, and little conscience.

“Welcome, Ms. Cassett. I am honored that you chose to join us.”

Kat bit her lip to keep from laughing, but it worked only for so long. Finally, after everything, the kidnapping, the extortion, the sex, the fear – after all of it, she broke into a fit of laughter. “Ohhhh …. I chose to join you,” she repeated the man’s words to him, raising her bound wrists. “That’s one way of putting it,” she said as she listened to the rest of his welcome spiel. Alexander meant every word he said, she could tell, but what he didn’t say was what worried her. Her bright blues met his coal-black orbs, and she swallowed hard.

Ms. Cassatt said nothing as she was led inside the villa. It was beautiful, like their home, but with a taste of the island. Once in the house, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Morello prodded Kat but allowed her to explore at her own pace. Within sight, obviously. After sitting for over eight hours, Katherine was relieved to stretch her legs in the main living area. Contrary to their home (and personalities), the villa was light and airy, with a touch of dark accents here and there. The bound woman walked across the marble floor, taking in the feng shui of each room she entered. “I can see your touch, Mrs. Morello. It’s lovely, but I expected nothing less.”

Her mouth dry, Cassatt cleared her throat. “I’ll want for nothing?” Kat questioned the lady of the house, quoting the words back to her. “A long, hot bath would be nice, in private and without …” Kat raised the cuffs again. “Then something filling to eat and maybe a home tour.” She smirked at Eva. “Maybe we can finally do that home décor interview.” Katherine chuckled sarcastically as she waited to be released or denied release.

“You’ve been playing with her,” Alexander mused in his native tongue, as he wrapped his arms about his wife, pulling his woman back against him lovingly. And yet, Eva did not mistake the hint of command in his tone, or his embrace. “And yet, you did not remove them when you were done.”

“Si,” Eva replied quietly, wrapping her arms atop his, as they both watched the other woman examining some, “It is quite a story. I will tell you.”

His embrace tightened, and Eva melted into his arms, gasping contentedly against his power. “Look into her eyes, love, she has known fear before. She knows our game, but not of its pleasures. Go now, give her peace of mind. Then we shall go to where we may speak more candidly.”

Eva smiled, turning herself in her arms and suddenly she was looking into those endless black eyes. So many times those eyes were used to intimidate, or scare. To her, they were warm. Kind. And only cruel in the most devilishly erotic ways. She reached up, testing her fingers over that wonderful stubble along his jaw. He smirked, then, as they both knew what he had planned.

She went up to her toes, and though their kiss was brief, she pressed her body against him, enjoying his hands squeezing her buttocks firmly. Frowning, Eva would have much preferred to be whisked away to their bedroom, as was typical after travel, but today their guest… and other matters took precedence. With a subtle sigh, she put on her best game face, and turned back to the other woman.

Eva knew that Alexander was watching her, his arms folded casually as she pulled the ever present key from around her neck. “Take all the time you need,” Eva said, not taking her eyes from Katherine’s as she unlocked the cuffs, and gently removing them from each wrist, “you will find that your rooms have everything you need. If any of the clothes are not to your liking just let me know.”

“You have a space for an office, and a computer,” Alexander added from over Eva’s shoulder, “you will find you have full internet and your mobile.” Eva knew, of course, that all media and communications would be closely monitored by their team of hackers. Of course, Katherine Cassatt was a smart woman, and would have likely guessed as much for herself. But Eva was certain that the woman would not do anything to jeopardize this plot. At least, she hoped. If only Katherine knew how much power she did, in fact, wield.

Alex stepped closer, and Eva felt him standing close behind her. “I was thinking we could enjoy a nice brunch out by the pool today, once you have had time to rest and freshen up. It will be a splendid day. But, Ms. Cassatt, if you would prefer to spend the day resting and recuperating from your travels, we certainly understand.

“However,” he added, his tone deepening in the most splendid of ways, “you are expected to join us for dinner this evening, promptly, at seven.”

[hr][/hr]

It did not take long to show Katherine to her rooms, where they respectfully gave her the time and space that she requested. Eva too was pleased by this, and the Morellos made their way to their own room. Alex leaned in their master bedroom door frame as Eva walked over to drop the leather cuffs onto the bedside table, along with the key.

“She would have bolted,” Eva said as she slipped out of her vest, tossing it to the ground, “from the moment she saw your video, she wanted time for this and that.”

“You bound her, then,” Alex said plainly.

Eva nodded, as she removed her shirt, and slipped out of her leggings, before stopping to look at Alex with a frown. “She broke the chair.”

“She-” Alex blinked, before stepping into the room and closing the door. “She what?”

Eva nodded. “It was the most frightening thing, too. I was certain for a moment that she was going to… that maybe she would…” She shivered, and rubbed at her arms, and unwanted, unbidden tears welling.

In an instant, Alex pulled her into his arms, “Shhh, Amore mio. She will help us, once she understands. And then we will all be free.”

Eva nodded, and took a slow calming breath. Her fears faded quickly, and in the safety of her husband’s arms she believed that they could conquer the world. They walked together into their spacious bathroom, where Alex too shed himself of his clothes and started the water running in the shower.

“I will say,” Eva said, as she stepped into the steaming water, putting her face directly into those gentle rainwater jets, “she is a natural. She absolutely loves the game.”

“Does she now?” Eva could sense her husband’s smirk, and she gasped, when his hand suddenly took a fist full of her soaked hair, tugging her head back. “And what, exactly, does she love, mio caro?”

“This,” Eva gasped, smiling up into those eyes shining with what she could only describe as black flames. “Sir. Husband. She loved this.”

Afghanistan – Ten years ago.

Sandwiched between two UK marines, Katherine was led to a small, dingy room. Kat tried not to react to the blood on the walls and floor, but a shudder betrayed her fear. The ranking marine quietly attempted to console her. “Deep, slow breathes,” he said. The only English-speaking terrorist aimed his Kalashnikov AK-47 at the ranking marine and ordered him to kneel. The man, begrudgingly, did so. Kat could see the sweat on the marine’s brow.

“Shut up!” the terrorist yelled and thrust the butt of his rifle into the marine’s forehead. The man let out a sickening grunt and fell back. Kat instinctively went to help him but was yanked away and pushed into the arms of several terrorists. Still bound, the men pawed and groped her until she was whisked away into another somewhat cleaner room. She was thankful but felt guilty that two men suffered for her honor.

“I hope you like our accommodations,” the man cackled. He pointed to an old dirty mattress on the floor. Bedroom. Next to it was a bucket. Bathroom. On the other side was a bent metal chair. The living room. He finally pointed to the cement floor as a couple of roaches scurried away. And the dining room, where you will have frequent guests. The man laughed until his belly shook, then closed and locked the door, leaving Katherine alone to think and worry.

Cyprus – Present

A leopard statue sat on a large coffee table. Katherine examined it, though she didn’t touch it. It looked to be black marble. The piece reminded her of the rhino horn Eva so jealously guarded. Kat still didn’t understand the significance, but as she was deep in the lion’s den, and had much to contemplate. The journalist wasn’t particularly interested in the décor of the villa. To her eye, it wasn’t as opulent as their primary residence. However, her time exploring the rooms gave her the layout and the Morello’s some privacy.

The few times Kat looked their way, Alexandra and Eva seemed far more preoccupied with each other than her. The way Eva melted in Mr. Morello’s arms at his touch was romantic, but there was more to it. Though subtle in his ways, Alex commanded the woman in his arms. Kat was glad to see that Mrs. Morello enjoyed it.

Katherine thought it odd, but she felt like the third wheel and was intruding. The journalist gave a little thought to walking out the back door, but Eva returned to her side with the golden key as soon as the idea left her. “Thank you,” Katherine said to Eva and rubbed her wrists. Keeping silent as the Morello’s spoke, Cassatt watched Mr. Morello, noting his mannerisms and listening to the changes in his tone. She had to know the enemy. Eva had spoken of her free reign in the house and the rooms for her use, so she only nodded dutifully when told again. The brunch wasn’t a surprise, as Alex knew little of Kat. Instead, it was a chance for both of them to have a real tête-à-tête.

However …

Finally, the moment she was waiting for. “Expected,” repeated Katherine. Cassatt smiled but said nothing further as Eva escorted the journalist to her rooms.

After a brief tour, Cassatt gave her approval. “It’s truly lovely, Eva. Thank you.” Before she left, Kat and Eva shared a quick look. They had seen one another – Kat, at her most vulnerable, and Eva allowed a small glimpse of herself on the plane. The journalist thought of a brief comeback to her abduction but left it alone.

Once in the bath, Cassatt explored the spacious room. The tub was nestled in a small marble alcove and equipped with massaging jets that tempted the brunette. She was tired, but first, she needed to check on her clothes. Cassatt stared in disbelief as she entered the guest bedroom and opened the closet.

“There’s not a single ugly article of clothing in this closet. Damn, that bitch’s good taste,” she muttered and slammed the door. Next to the closet was a vanity with makeup and hair care accessories. The woman bent over and looked at herself in the mirror. “Fuck, I’m surprised they didn’t exchange me for some lemons at the market.” The woman tried to fix her hair, but she could do nothing.

After removing her clothing, Kat prepared her bath. She added scented oils and a few candles to set the scene and lowered herself into the tub. The hot water was soothing, and the spraying jets were heavenly.

“I better watch out. I could get used to this.”

Her hair lathered with shampoo, Cassatt laid her head back and closed her eyes. For that moment, she set her worries aside and relaxed. Then, her mind drifted to better times. A blonde in New Orleans she met after Mardi Gras and a petite brunette in Cincinnati. There were many more. As Kat began drifting off, an image of Eva came to her mind—the hungry look on her face. Katherine’s legs spread apart, her sex open for pleasure or torment. The water splashed. Kat began to pant. Eva’s fingers touched her folds, igniting hidden desires, dark pleasures Kat denied herself. The water shook. Cassatt’s nipples grew plump. Her eyes screwed shut, her mouth open, gasping. And then the little death took her. Warmth spread over her body, pushing sleep ever closer.

“No!”

Katherine nearly bolted out of the tub as the realization descended upon her. “You’re not scared they’ll hurt you. You’re scared that you will want to give in.” Katherine blew out the candles, rinsed her hair, and stepped out of the tub to grab a towel. Then, noting her reflection, she grimaced. “Don’t you dare give in,” she sneered, pointing to herself. After she toweled off, Cassatt went to look in her room for something to wear and quickly chose something casual and comfortable. At the bottom of the closet, she noticed several pairs of shoes, from expensive heels to flats to flip-flops. Next to the shoes was a large package which piqued Kat’s curiosity. Upon opening the package, she opened the box and discovered a large stash of stockings and tights. “Hmmm. Nice shoes, nice clothes … even nice tights. This is going to be hard.”

After applying minimal makeup, she tossed on a yellow sweatshirt and a pair of comfortable white capri pants. Cassatt twisted her wet hair into a scrunchie and pattered through the house barefoot. In the kitchen stood an adorable Greek girl. She looked to be in her 20s.

“You must be Elpida?”

The girl nodded and motioned to the brunch offerings on the counter. It looked like a buffet which Katherine eagerly helped herself to, sliding eggs, bacon, sausage, crepes, fried potatoes, tomatoes, kippers, toast, and baked beans onto her plate. Elpida’s eyes grew wide at the size of the breakfast. Kat just shrugged. “I’m from England,” she said, grabbing a cup of tea. Outside by the pool, Alex and Eva were already enjoying the day. Cassatt found a patio table and raised her teacup to the couple. “I’m English,” she said. “So, thank you for the taste of home.” Ravenous, the woman dug in, shoveling in the food like a hog in slop.

Alex, thick as a thief, carefully removed the untouched mug of coffee from Eva’s hand, narrowly avoiding a scalded chest. Eager as the lady had been to enjoy the warm, almost heavenly day poolside, she had quickly fallen fast asleep in his embrace. Alex found himself content to grow roots into the oversized lounge chair rather than wake her. May God strike him down now, he did not deserve such a rare woman. He cast his gaze down, gently tucking away a lock of untamed copper hair flying about the fragrant breeze. Asleep as she was, he watched her lips part and her partially nude form nestled snugly against him.

He was almost beside himself as she had chosen to dress in the most flattering of pastel green swimsuits, a two-piece, covered only with a soft floral shift. It made her delicate, alabaster skin (heavily covered in sunscreen) glow in the Mediterranean sun, and even as she lounged without any care for makeup, or finely styled hair, she was nothing less than a vision. A goddess. Home.

It was in this manner that Katherine Cassatt would find the couple as she deigned to join them. As she raised her teacup to him, so did he raise his coffee to her, nodding with approval when she offered gratitude freely. He almost smiled, unsure if such a gesture was a courtesy, or a challenge. Alexander knew from the moment he set this plot into action that the journalist would be formintable. For all his efforts, she was the only wild card, and yet so crucial to their success. Without her, and her cooperation, the rest of it was folly, and his one and only opportunity would be gone forever.

His face belied none of his fears, however, and instead he watched her through a cool gaze as she took in enough sustenance to fuel a small militia. Alex, himself, sipped his coffee–there was no finer drink in existence–and savored a few morsels of olives and cheese from the platter that he and his wife were to share. It was a ruse, however, an excuse for him to share in the activity of the woman who, for the moment, was certainly his adversary. He studied every inch of her, from her bare feet to the casual Saturday-morning apparel, and even the still damp hair, hastily tied away in a top-knot. Her eyes were mildly sunken, wider than they should have been, and even the way she sat told him she was ready to bolt–or fight–at the slightest threat.

Alex did finally smile, at least, the subtle turn of his lips as he watched the woman eat. There was something quite refreshing about a woman with such an appetite. It told him much about the reporter. She was a woman who was honest, and accustomed to living life on her terms. It was beginning to make sense that she would have resisted the initial invitation, and even more clear that she detested being extorted. And yet, with those blue eyes, and lithe frame, Alexander also understood what Eva saw in the woman. His wife was drawn to powerful people, not because she sought it for herself, but for Eva power was safety. She was a woman born to serve, and to give all of herself to another. It was that very simple compliment, and made for a near perfect relationship.

Elpida came out, on time, as Ms. Cassatt was finishing her platter. Quietly, the housekeeper offered to refill her plate, and another cup of tea. Alexander could not quite hear the journalist’s words, but his housekeeper bowed her head shyly and took the dishes away.

“Come,” Alex said, gesturing to the lounge chair next to him, “let us sit together and speak candidly. I am sure that you have many questions, and as my wife tells it more than a few statements. I do, of course, understand that you are angry. But, if we are to have a pleasant time together, then let us clear the air. Preferably before my darling wife wakes up.”

Afghanistan

The door to Kat’s room opened. She expected another stale bologna sandwich or a frenzied list of western sins. But, instead, the silhouette standing in the doorway seemed fresh and welcoming. “Katherine Cassatt?” the outline asked.

“Y-yes …. I’m – I’m – I’m … I am.” There was a short pause as Kat rubbed her parched lips. “I am she,” the woman finally spoke.

“Harun Kamal,” the man said as he entered the room. What little light that was, Kamal ensured Katherine would see his face as she set a box of chicken and a large coke on the floor. “KFC. It’s a little greasy for my tastes, but I’m sure it will do you good.” Kat ripped open the box to find four large chicken breasts smothering in crispy batter. Like a wild beast, the woman grabbed the food and began ripping chunks of meat with her teeth, devouring the beast as quickly as possible.

“You sound English,” she said between mouthfuls.

“I’m a professor of astronomy at Cambridge – or at least I was.” His voice had no shame, but his mission was not in league with his fellow countrymen. “My mission was to set you free, but –”

“Free?”

He nodded. “That was my mission. The war is essentially over, and the western pullout has begun. But, unfortunately, these men didn’t get the memo.”

“Then what’s wrong? Why aren’t – the other men are they okay?”

“They are alive,” Kamal replied. The man kneeled to Kat, sliding the drink toward her. “One of the men here is my older brother. I’ve tried to reason with him and the others but will do nothing unless they hear from their superior, which is unfortunately in Afghan custody.”

The coke hissed when kat unscrewed the cap. “Then go get someone. Bring them back.”

“If I did that, my brother might be killed, and I don’t want that.” Kamal reached behind him and retrieved a 9mm handgun. “If you were to give them some information, something they asked, then maybe they would listen to me.” The young man pointed the gun at her head. “For show, in case anyone comes in.”

Kat had the soda to her lips. She was so thirsty, and the drink was cold. The journalist tossed it into the wall, letting the brown fizzing liquid pool all over the floor.

Present

“I couldn’t hold another bite, but thank you, Elpida. The food was delightful.” Kat smiled fondly as the Greek woman cleared the dishes. Cassatt’s blue eyes followed the girl disappearing into the house. Rich and powerful men often abused their waitstaff, but Elpida appeared healthy and unscathed. Her mental state was unclear, but if the journalist had to guess, the worst thing the Morellos had down to the housekeeper was to ignore her.

Hungry as she was, Katherine all but ignored her hosts, but as she was sated, the reporter could focus on the pair more closely. Alex had signaled that he wanted to speak, which prompted a slow nod and a stoic look from Cassatt. Then, turning to Eva and her ivory-toned skin, Kat let out a quick gasp. For a moment, she wondered if – No. Eva would never leave him.

“Yes, let’s have a very frank discussion, but I suggest away from the pool and your wife.” The brunette cast a glance toward the sleeping redhead. “There might be shouting, and we don’t want to wake her.”

The two walked into the open kitchen, so Eva would see them when she woke, but they were far enough away not to disturb her. Kat snatched another piece of bacon, munching on it as she sat at the island and washed it with another sip of tea before setting the cup in its saucer. “Why? Why abduct me?” Cassatt shrugged. “I had a few leads on your operation but nothing concrete. I would have – my editor would have forbidden me from further investigation after one phone call from you.” She shook her head, reaching for the cup of tea, instead pulling her hand back and into her lap. Kat stared deep into his eyes. “You threatened me and my paper – the people I work with. My friends.” BAM! She slammed her open hand on the counter. “My friends, you son of a bitch!”

Pushing away from the kitchen island, Katherine stood, turning her back on Alex. She was so angry at that moment that the woman was barely conscious of the disrespectful act. “Maybe you felt the same way. I threatened all this.” Kat gestured to the splendid surroundings. “And your wife,” she said, finally turning back around. “I get that, but you are an arms dealer, not a patriot or a freedom fighter.” Kat gestured out to Eva. “She’d love you if you both lived in a flop house, and you know it. Not that would happen. Look at you – the man who could do anything he wanted.”

Katherine leaned her elbows on the table, propping her head up. Her blue eyes stared deep into his back orbs. “Do you care who buys your weapons? Do you care about the bystanders they kill, including children?” The reporter rose to face Mr. Morello, placing her hands flat on the laminated counter. “I think I’ve cleared the air. I’m certain you want to retort, but first, please, another cup of tea.” She slid the tea and saucer toward him. “Two sugars, please.”

Alexander stood patiently, arms crossed, thumb and forefinger on his chin. He was not a man to flinch, or lose control easily. Instead, he turned his gaze to the teacup inching towards him. She was testing him, waiting for him to become the captor she assumed him to be.

Instead, he merely stepped up to the counter, and reached for the pewter pot, still warm, and casually refilled the cup, followed by pouring what he assumed was “two sugars.” He then pushed the tea back toward the reporter. When she did not throw the cup into his face, he assumed that she would accept it as a truce, if only temporary.

He maintained his silence, and busied himself around the kitchen, taking out tupperware and other food storage items. Quickly, he started working his way through the buffet, either putting food away, or disposing of food that would not keep. Carefully he scraped such food into the garbage can for organic waste.

It was short work, then to set platters and silverware into the large, stainless steel sink and begin rinsing and loading the dishwasher nearby.

“You are correct about many things,” he said, his Italian burr thicker than usual, “I am a self-made monster, and I carry the responsibility for many bad things.” Dishes clanged, and water streamed from the facet. “I have turned small, idealistic boys into world renowned terrorists, and warlords into uncompromising dictators. I have toppled empires with one phone call, and even murdered men in cold blood.”

He grew silent, then, for a time. “But, she, il mio filo d’amore, is everything I am not. She can only see the beauty in this world. It is not that she is naive, she knows who and what I am, but she accepts me. And, possa la forza di Dio riempirmi, I do not deserve her.”

Alexander closed the dishwasher, and shut off the water faucet, but not before dampening a rag. He turned back towards Katherine, and started wiping off the counter. “You see, Ms. Cassatt. Your mistake is thinking you have been brought here to be silenced. It is quite the contrary. I did not bring you here to stay out of my affairs, but rather for you to learn about every detail of my business. More than that, I can, and will, give you everything you need on several more terrorist cells, cartels, revolutionaries, and more.”

“But first,” he said, pushing the last few crumbs from the table into his hand, and then into the sink, “I need you to get to know me. To get to know her. Know us.” Alexander hastily washed his hands, dried them then leaned back on the counter and looked at the other woman. He knew that they would never be friends, barely a step above enemies. “And I needed to make sure that when I invited you here, you would not refuse me.”

Afghanistan

Kamal watched the soda pool on the concrete floor. “You’ll make the roaches happy,” still holding the gun near her temple. Then the door to Kat’s room flew open.

“What’s going on?” screamed the terrorist. The man moved in with an AK-47 pointed at Cassatt. The woman rolled into a ball, her arms wrapped around her head.

“Please!” she begged, her hands trembling.

“Quf! Stop!” shouted Kamal. Harun pointed to his gun. “Asmar, I almost had her talking! You get out! Let me work!”

Asmar pointed to the soda on the floor. “Bitch-whore! You waste the food we give to you? Clean it up!”

Kamal rose calmly. “She will, Asmar. She will.” He stood and eased the man back out of the room, closing the door behind him. Katherine finally looked up. Tears streaked down her face, mingling with the sweat. When Kamal returned, he handed Kat a rag.

“I’ll help you.”

Present

As a reporter, Katherine was fascinated by Mr. Morello’s admission to numerous crimes, including murder. Question after question filled her head, so many she had to swat them away. The legal hurdles would be monumental, but such an interview would be worth the headaches. Another Pulitzer? She would be lying if she said the idea of another award wasn’t a motivation. But Cassatt was human too, and as Alex spoke, the brunette held her arms. Her lips shuddered.

When Morello concluded his pitch, he offered Ms. Cassatt nothing less than the holy grail. “Terrorist cells, cartels, revolutionaries …” Unsure of Alexander’s real motives, Kat bit her lip to suppress her growing fear. “You’ve whetted my appetite, but my editor would know the proper procedures in dealing with a powder keg of information like that.” Katherine stood from the table; her stance was still defensive. She sighed. “You’ve made your point. Neither of us trusts the other now, and somehow, we must get past that.” Cassatt finally calmed enough to take another sip of tea and held the cup to her lips, thinking. The woman eyed her host from across the table.

“I need to message my editor and tell him I’m okay. I won’t say anything about my whereabouts or the prospective deal you offered. Not that such information would reach my friend, as I’m sure it would be redacted in any text I sent.” Kat favored Alex with a fleeting smirk as she rounded the table, the teacup still in hand. When she was nearly face-to-face with Alexander, Cassatt sat the cup on the counter. “I have two questions. What do you get from all this?” Her second question required some delicacy. “So, you want me to know you – your wife and yourself.” Katherine glanced toward Eva, then returned her gaze to Alexander. “I assume Eva told you of our … adventure on the plane?” The brunette began to shiver again, averting the man’s eyes on purpose for the first time. “H-how well do you want to know me?”

Alexander nearly chuckled at such skittish words from the reporter. He was not fooled for a minute, even if fear and excitement knew well how to coexist. It was a gentle touch when his thumb and finger went to the tip of Katherine’s chin, turning her gaze back up to his. “As I understand, you had quite a pleasurable flight. I find myself quite intrigued, but I am serious when I say that no one here will harm you, even within the games we play.”

He released her chin then, and slipped out from between the woman and the counter. Alexander stepped over to the window, watching his wife still fast asleep beneath the warm Mediterranean rays. “I see how you two have looked at one another, and passion cannot lie. It is my hope that you will find it in yourself to trust us as we have chosen to trust you.

“I will not answer your first question though. Not yet.” Alexander started for the sliding door, guiding it open. “But, for now, go and contact your people. It will likely be some time before Eva wakes, it will be a day or so before she fully adjusts to this time zone.

Alexander smiled down at his wife, who had started a quiet snore. Even as he took her into his arms, she did not wake. And rather than let her sleep outside all day, he carried her into their bedroom. Gently he set her down on their bed, the light swimsuit not quite matching the gunmetal gray sheets. After tucking her in, he stepped back, and for the first time since the morning his shoulders slumped. With a heavy sigh, he rubbed his face in his hands, and then raked his fingers through his raven locks.

Having nothing better to do at that moment, he too slipped onto his side of the bed, slipping his hands behind his head. Staring blankly at the ceiling, his thoughts spun. He thought about Katherine’s words, her anger. He thought about the plan, and all he needed to do, and how much of it hinged on a headstrong, and fearful reporter. Even as he closed his eyes, sleep only came begrudgingly, and he could only hope that he might dream up more solutions, than problems.

Mr. Morello’s thumb felt rough on Katherine’s chin as he forced her to look up at him. She thought it wasn’t a callus, but the man worked with his hands. Perhaps he inspected his merchandise of guns regularly, broke them down occasionally to ensure quality, or maybe he made furniture. Kat didn’t know, but she believed Eva would swoon under the guidance of those hands. She had been with men before but was very particular. But, as with Eva, Katherine might willingly play his games if the circumstances differed. The idea of those steady, coarse hands on her breast or his stubble between her thighs was pleasing. Add in no possibility of escape, and Kat would drown in a blissful hell – something akin to a drug for her.

“… games we play.”

Katherine gasped when he released her. Tears threatened to well under her eyes. Maybe she was supposed to swoon at his soothing Italian accent, but Alexander’s words were far from reassuring. She felt trapped. He observed how she coveted his wife, and there was no doubt of attraction on Kat’s part, but the reference only underscored her depravity with Eva. Of course, he knew what she did to his wife. Guilt washed over her again. She wanted to apologize, but Mr. Morello was right. Passion did not lie.

“Thank you,” she said, but only for using her phone. Katherine did not turn to face Mr. Morello but instead marched out of the kitchen, bound for her sanctioned part of the house. Once in the office, she shut and locked the door. Of course, the Morellos would have a key, but the added measure reassured her. Phone in hand, Kat found it unlocked and the data intact. Maybe they did trust her? She wasn’t going to take any chances. First, Katherine opened a window and took a selfie, ensuring her editor knew her whereabouts.

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Katherine sent a shorter note to her father, advising him to relay her affection to her mom. Unfortunately, the two rarely spoke, so a message out of the blue would alert the Admiral to trouble. What the elder Cassatt would do with the information was anyone’s guess, though she gave him no clues to her whereabouts. With her duties out of the way, Cassatt napped in her assigned bedroom. Exhausted from recent events and jetlag, sleep didn’t come easy. She was frightened but also curious and, despite her better judgment, aroused.

“The body does not lie.”

After tossing and turning with worry and fear, the mercy of sleep eventually took her.

~~~

Afghanistan

“Have you been outside?” asked Katherine, cleaning the soda on the floor.

“Yes. It’s mostly rubble, with a few scattered buildings here and there,” replied Harun Kamal. He helped clean; the gun was tucked away in his pants, opposite Cassatt.

“No. I mean, the sky. The night sky. We’re so far from any city. It must be beautiful.”

Kamal stopped scrubbing, turning to Kat. “It is. You can see the milky way outside, and it’s stunning.”

“I’d like to see it,” Kat asked, her voice full of hope.

“No,” Harun said as he cleaned the soda with a dirty rag.

“I’m not going to make it out of here. I know that. I’d like to see the night sky one last time.” Kat sat up. “I’m an amateur astronomer,” she chuckled. “I audited some classes at Cambridge a few years ago.”

The man nodded, scrubbing up the rest of the sticky soda. “I don’t think –”

“Please?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Harun rose, retrieving his weapon, and waved Kat back to the mattress. She hurried to the makeshift bed and waited, again full of hope. Then, from outside the door, Cassatt heard Kamal shouting in Farci. She didn’t recognize the other voice. Perhaps it was his brother? The door opened again, though Kamal had his 9mm drawn this time. “Come with me,” he said in a heavy tone. Kat did not hesitate and gladly followed the man. Dozens of eyes followed her out the front door. When she stepped outside, the cool night air hit her skin. She looked up.

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“Oh, my god.”

“It is spectacular. An ocean of stars, planets, and galaxies all shining long-dead light.”

Kat nodded. “Indeed.”

Kamal pointed to three stars. “Do you see those three? They make up Orion’s belt.” The man smiled; his guard lowered. “You’ve seen the pyramids in Egypt, correct?” he asked, meandering near the safe house.

“You’re referring to the Orion correlation theory. In the distant past, the pyramids were built to align with the Orion belt; however, the pyramid and the belt no longer align due to the shift in the earth’s orbit over 5000 years.” Kat smiled brightly as the stars above her. At that moment, she was a woman enjoying a night stroll with a handsome young man.

“You look up at such majesty, and your troubles melt away,” observed Kamal.

“If only,” she replied. His weapon was in sight; if she could get behind him.

“I’m taking you to the UK embassy tomorrow.”

“What?” Cassatt clapped her hands once, laughing in joy. “We’re going home?”

“You are,” Kamal said, motioning to the safe house and its occupants. “You tempt them. Your two friends,” the man shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“I won’t go unless they go. Those men saved my life!”

“Lower your voice,” he said, grabbing her arm.

She tore at his shirt. “You know this is wrong,” Cassatt proclaimed.

Kamal raised his hand as if to strike Kat. “Yes. I don’t believe their fucking bullshit.”

“Then why do you go along with this?” begged Kat.

“My brother is in there. He’s a stubborn, fucking fanatic, but he’s my brother, and this is my country.”

“Fuck you!” the reporter spat.

“Fuck you, Katherine Cassatt, but I won’t watch them cut your head off. We’re leaving in the morning.”

The journalist fell to her knees, sobbing.

Present

Once Katherine woke, she turned to the ornate clock on the nightstand—5:14 PM. She was expected for dinner at 7:00 PM and didn’t have long to get dressed and ready. Anxiety set in immediately. She was so frightened that the woman wanted to curl up and cry. Instead, Cassatt forced herself to throw up, relieving most of the tension.

Further stress was erased as Kat, in the shower, felt the hot beads of water massage her muscles. The experience was calming and reaffirming. Finally, the woman stepped out of the shower and wiped the steam from the mirror.

“You survived a bombing. You’ve had a gun held to your head. You’ve interviewed dictators, criminals, and serial killers and taken down a corporation. You are Katherine Cassatt, Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist. This is just another battle, like all the rest. Now, put your game face on and come out fighting.”

Katherine Cassatt arrived in the dining room, dressed in a black silk chiffon draped gown. Mr. and Mrs. Morello were already in attendance, ready to enjoy a fine meal. “I hope I’m not late,” she said, a soft smile on her lips, hiding her nerves. Then, turning to Eva, she gave her hostess an elegant nod. “You look elegant this evening, Eva. As does your gentleman.” Kat lowered her head in a submissive nod toward Mr. Morello. “And where shall I sit, sir?” Her tone was confident; her head held high. Cassatt did not know what the evening held but would face it without fear.

Alexander Morello, when not running an empire of illegal arms, loved to cook. The kitchen was his solace; a place to create small masterpieces that gave sustenance and comfort to others. It was a bittersweet passion, however, for every moment in the kitchen with hands that sliced, stirred, and tossed was a tango with shattered dreams of a path he did not choose. The pain he always felt when crafting a perfect meal, he supposed, was to be his mortal torment, and one he long since learned to live with.

Smirking to himself, he was more than pleased when Ms. Cassatt joined them precisely on time as he was carefully wiping the edges of the plates with a clean cloth. It seemed a crime to cook with such care, only to stop at plating. He took as much care with the presentation as he did everything else, and as he looked up at the reporter, he carefully took two of the three prepared plates and walked them to their handcrafted dining table, just large enough to seat four.

As he went back for the third plate, he heard Eva gasp. “You, my dear, are a vision!” Alex watched from the peripheral as his wife walked up to Katherine leaning in to plant a small kiss on both cheeks–la bise as the french called it. And, though the other woman endured it, he was not fooled by the pretense. The woman would have dressed in full armor if she could have. Tonight would be, perhaps, his greatest challenge yet–winning this woman over would be no small feat.

Eva was equally stunning in the gown she chose: a tight gown of a lacy-see through bust, overlaid against a stark contrast of pure white gown cascading against the subtle curves of her body, the hem too held those scrolling tendrils of black lace as if they were fingers looking to run those fingers along her perfect legs, which he knew would be dressed in lovely stockings exclusively for his pleasure. Her hair, styled in textured, free flowing curls, almost made her locks seem as if they were on fire, in the dim, ambient lights.

As he took the third plate to his own place setting, he watched his wife taking in the other woman and seeing them both dressed in such stunning gowns….

“Come my lovely women, I have prepared for us tonight a rack of herb-crusted lamb with potatoes à la Lyonnaise, and a shaved asparagus and arugula salad.” When both were seated, he immediately took the wine flute at Katherine’s setting. “For this meal, I recommend this Pinot Noir from Belle Glos Las Alturas,” he held up the bottle of expensive wine,” but if you would prefer white, I have a wonderful oaky Chardonnay that will do a wonderful job of bringing out the herb flavors.” With a smirk, he poured at her request, and then he served his wife, not needing to ask her preference for the Pinot Noir.

After pouring for himself, he sat at the table. In a swift motion he folded his hands and bent his head, reciting Grace out of habit more than intent. He crossed himself, then looked up to the women seated at the round table, inviting them to eat. “Buon Appetito.”

Both women began to eat, Eva daintily, and Katherine more fervently. But, as everyone ate for a time in silence it was Eva who broke the silence. “I am very sorry for sleeping the day away Ms. Cassatt, but I hope you find yourself settling in nicely. I hear that you spent some time contacting friends and family, were you able to get in touch with them okay?”

“You, my dear, are a vision!”

Eva’s compliment was not unwelcome, nor was her kiss, and her warmth was a beacon that drew Kat in like a month. “Thank you, Mrs. Morello. You look especially radiant this evening.” Cassatt lingered on Eva’s form as the woman moved to her seat, allowing her eyes to explore every inch of the flame-haired woman’s curves. Her gown was a delight. The brunette’s gaze then turned to Mr. Morello as he announced their dinner and wine of choice. “The Pinot Noir is fine. I prefer red wine with lamb. It’s –” She had a sharp barb about lambs, ritual sacrifice, and the distinct red color of Morello’s wine choice, but Kat decided not to fire first. Honestly, she was tired of the desperate jabs. “It brings out the tenderness of the cut.”

Once she saw the plate, Ms. Cassatt spent a few seconds admiring the dish, and then she dug in, enjoying the meal to the fullest. “The presentation is excellent, Mr. Morello. You have my compliments,” Katherine announced, bowing her head in the gentleman’s direction. The trio enjoyed the meal for several minutes before Eva broke the silence again. She inquired about Kat’s day, specifically any messages Cassatt sent, though Eva seemed genuinely curious.

“I sent a couple of messages, one to my editor and another to my father.” Cassatt trimmed off a piece of lamb and placed it in her mouth, smiling at the tender flavor. She then washed the lamb down with a sip of Pinot Noir. “I told my editor I was fine but not to look for me.” She looked up, holding the fork continental-style, almost like a weapon. “I’ve done that before, so don’t worry. I did snap a picture of myself in front of the window to show that beautiful blue ocean. I’m sure my editor will believe it’s Bermuda or the Caimans.”

After another bite of lamb, Cassatt gave a thumbs up. “This is excellent, Mr. Morello. The flavors, the textures, the aroma – everything is …” She gave the man a chef’s kiss and returned to her dish. “Though I wish I had brought my phone.” Kat smiled and winced a little at Eva. “I’m afraid I am one of those silly people who posts photos of her food online. I suppose it’s because I so rarely cook myself. It’s not that I can’t, but I don’t have the time. Breakfast is usually an energy drink, and supper is whatever is in the vending machine down the hall from my office.”

The potatoes à la Lyonnaise were perfect, thought Kat, crisp on the outside, soft and savory in the middle. “This reminds me of brunch,” said Kat, smirking at Eva. “I had a full English this morning, thanks to your husband. I’m sure he thought I had not eaten in a week. It was delicious.”

Katherine used chit-chat to break the ice, but she knew the dinner was a battlefield, and it was two against one. She needed to come out with a brutal hit, not a juvenile jab. “The offer you gave me this morning. It is interesting, but I may have to decline.” Cassatt placed her fork and knife on her finished plate. “As I recall, you threatened my career, paper, and friends if I did not comply with your wishes, but you made a mistake.” She turned to the man, her lip only slightly quivering. “Terrorist cells, cartels, revolutionaries, and more might take note of a disgraced reporter if they had even the slightest inkling their supplier might betray them.” Cassatt took Eva’s hand and kissed the knuckles, smiling at the woman’s stoic mask. “I could leave now and drop hints about your offer. Of course, certain parties would inquire, and you two would likely be hunted.” She took another bite of lamb, almost humming at the flavor. “But that does nothing for the scales of justice.”

Katherine Cassatt stood from the table. Her hands shook. Tears welled in her eyes. “You want me to get to know you? Fine, but first, I need you to know me.” Kat wiped her eyes, clearing her throat several times before she could begin. “Ten years ago, I and two Royal marines were taken hostage by insurgents in Afghanistan.” She turned to Eva. “I told you part of this story, how I had a gun held to my head. What I didn’t say, and no one knows, is that I was released only a few days later. I tempted these terrorists. Their jihad was to forgo carnal pleasure, and I was a young, pretty woman.” She looked between the two, Alex and Eva. Mr. Morello was his calm, stoic self. Eva seemed to hang on every word. “Sgt. Arthur Barnes and Lt. Bryce Covington saved my life. Before I was released, I was allowed to speak to them, although I refused to go.” She wiped another tear from her cheek. “These men, who had been beaten and tortured, told me to go – that their sacrifice would mean nothing if I didn’t. Sgt. Barnes asked me to relay his love to his parents and sister. Lt. Covington gave his love to his wife and child.” Kat forced her eyes shut, fighting more tears. The woman sat back down, using her napkin to dry her eyes and face.

“I tried to tell this story, but as NATO had pulled out, the UK felt the story would hinder morale within the country, especially as mine was not the only one. So, my story was suppressed.” She looked to Mr. Morello from across the table. “If you did a background check, I doubt you came across that item.”

The room fell silent momentarily as Cassatt tried to mend her makeup. “So, there you have it, my soul bared, my sins of cowardice displayed.” Dark mascara ran under Kat’s eyes as she stood and nodded to Mr. and Mrs. Morello. “As I have a debt to pay, I will take your deal and allow one monster to go in hopes of capturing hundreds more.”

The woman grabbed her glass and chugged down the rest of the wine. “Now, what’s for dessert?”

Eva didn’t dare take a breath, let alone move. She sat between a wolf and a wildcat. Both determined. Both deadly. Ice filled her from within, a cold not easily solved by a warm blanket or hot tea.

Subtly, she dared a look over at her husband, and where she had paled, he had flushed, his jaw more chiseled than ever. Handsome as he looked tonight in his simple white dress shirt and black slacks, that look turned dangerous. Katherine knew the exact words that would strike closest to Alexander’s ego.

Eva took in a deep breath, ready to take the glancing blow, addressing her husband in Italian. “Alex, you need to explain everything to her, before she bolts.”

The silence, turned on her now, was almost worse as Alex took another sip of his wine. His narrowed gaze did not turn away from Katherine. “No. She won’t understand. It’s too soon. I need-”

“You need to treat her like a professional. She won a Pulitzer for God’s sake!”

Alexander stood from the table, hands balled into fists. “And you need to stay out of my business! You know better, Eva.”

“This time it is our-”

“Enough!” His hand swiped across thin air as he turned his back to both women and stormed from the room and out onto the patio.

Eva stared at her wine glass for a moment, her eyes taking in the wine, such a dark red, it seemed to turn black in the right ambiance. The evening, beginning so pleasantly, now felt hopeless. Disappointment welled up in her chest as surely as a bucket left out in a storm. If Katherine left now….

She could not allow herself to finish the thought. Before she realized it, she found her hand resting comfortingly on her belly. Quickly she reached for her wine glass, and finished what was left in one gulp. It was enough for her to finally look at the other woman, where she put on her very best hostess’ smile.

“Come, why don’t we retire to the living room. He will be nursing his pride for a little while.” Eva stood from her seat, and took both Katherine’s wine glass with her own in one hand, and then swiped the still open bottle of pinot into her other hand.

She took no more than a handful of steps towards the other room just beside the fireplace where a small gaslit fire crackled, then turned back to the woman, exposing a solemn hint of raw emotion through her own facade–an unspoken please–before going into their rather spacious, yet cozy living room.

Once there, the room under dim amber lights set an intimate mood. Eva sat herself down on a large, overstuffed sofa, setting the glasses on the coffee table. She wasted no time emptying the bottle equally into both glasses.

Eva only spoke again when she felt the cushions give way next to her. Her breath caught as Katherine’s subtle fragrance teased at her senses. Eva put her wine glass to her lips hoping to taste her own courage on her lips, “thank you for your openness and honesty. I understand what you went through must have been terrible. It clearly was not an easy story to share.” She set her glass down and looked up at the other woman, those blue eyes impossible to read at that moment. “But, you need to know. The nerve you struck tonight was a big one. You said you had the power to have us hunted. You- should not have said that.”

Unable, and if she was being honest with herself, she was unwilling to stop herself as she reached over to take Katherine’s hand into her own. “You are not a coward. I think you are the bravest, and most powerful woman I have ever met.”

Katherine’s Italian was rusty, but she’d heard you need to stay out of my business enough times throughout her career to recognize it in any language. Her eyes narrowed at Mr. Morello as she tried to interrupt, but his outburst caught her off guard; she flinched. But her fear was replaced by anger once he stormed off, leaving Eva fearful and herself bewildered. Turning to her hostess, the demure redhead wore a smiling mask, hoping to ease the tensions in the air. The two women quickly retired to the living room, where Eva delicately scolded the brunette. Cassatt sipped from the filled wine glass, nodding in agreement when Mrs. Morello took the journalist’s hand and paid her the highest compliment she had ever received. Cassatt could only chuckle.

“I’m neither brave nor powerful. I’m a child and a blabbermouth who craves adoration.” The women sat together as two ladies having tea in an impressionistic painting – cultured, refined, dignified. “I am puzzled,” she said, watching Eva hold her hand, submitting to the hostess. “Perhaps, I indulged too much in purple prose, but I did agree to work with you and your husband. And I’m taking a big risk. Once I release the information, even under your husband’s guidance, we’ll all be guilty of his crimes in the eyes of those on either side of the law.”

Katherine hoped she had explained herself enough to Eva as her hostess held her hand like a priceless bauble. Kat couldn’t help but return the favor, allowing her middle finger to move across Eva’s alabaster palm. The woman wet her lips before she spoke again. “I wish we had met like this, not with your husband storming off, but – this.” The pad of Kat’s finger carefully stroked Eva’s slender digits from palm to fingertip. “I’m sorry for what I did to you on the plane. I was frightened and angry, and I humiliated you.” Katherine brought the woman’s hand to her lips and kissed each fingertip. “I’m ashamed of myself.” Eva’s thumb made its way between Katherine’s lips, where her tongue circled the pad. “But if I’m being candid, I did enjoy it.” A smile curled upon her lips as her eyes turned predatory, and Kat folded into a kiss with Mrs. Morello.

Katherine’s hand slid over Eva’s waist, feeling the fabric curve over the woman’s body. Their kiss lingered, each tasting the wine on the other’s tongue. The two exchanged copious amounts of saliva while their lips danced together. Yearning for more, Kat’s chiffon dress hissed as she straddled Eva and cupped the redhead’s face. They kissed again, Cassatt toying with the woman beneath her, nibbling on her jaw. “Open, please.” Once Eva tilted her head back with her lips parted, Kat pursed her lips, letting a long string of drool descend onto Mrs. Morello’s tongue. She giggled and painted the woman’s chin with another string. Finally, Kat pressed her lips to Eva’s, savoring a long sloppy kiss, smearing their lipstick.

“Eva,” she whispered. “I’m scared of what I want – to fall in love with you. To –” Cassatt pulled away. “On the plane when you …” A slight smile rose on the brunette’s face as she ran her fingers through Morello’s soft, fire-kissed curls. “I liked it more than I wanted to, and it scared me.” Kat brushed her lips down the pulse of Eva’s neck, savoring the scent of the woman. Again, Kat pulled away. “Fear and excitement are two sides of the same coin, like pain and pleasure. I want that from you.” The woman shivered, confessing her deepest, darkest desire, but a devilish smile quickly drew on her face as she leaned over, tasting Morello’s perspiration on her neck. She moaned softly, nibbling on Eva’s ear. “So, I’ve been a bad girl? Maybe I should be punished.”

With a girlish giggle, Katherine pulled Eva up from the sofa. “I assume you have a playroom?”

So much Eva wanted to say. How did Katherine suddenly know such perfect words to chip away at her years of carefully practiced disposition? Words caught on her breath as she looked up into the other woman’s eyes, and she knew she was smiling much like a child on Christmas morning.

“I’m sorry too, Katherine,” she said, while her fingers reached up to tuck away a non-existent stray hair from the woman’s face, a flimsy excuse to trace her knuckles along the woman’s jaw. “I should not have pushed you as I did during our flight. I- I should have asked permission first, and listened to your protests. I was wrong.”

Giving such an apology lifted a tension in Eva’s shoulders that she did not realize was there.

“I will not lie to you. I love my husband very much. He has a temper, and I know his work is ugly, but he is a good, and passionate man.” Eva frowned, and turned Katherine’s gaze back to hers, her hand now cupping the woman’s lovely cheek tenderly. “And I am falling in love with you too. What you–even all considered–what you are doing for us, even if it all does not seem sensible… I am so grateful.”

This time, when they kissed, Eva made it tender. Genuine. It was a thank you. A promise. And most importantly, an offer of trust. Please trust us, Katherine. We need you as much as we desire you. Before they… It was not a truth she could share out loud–not yet–better not to even think about it.

Eva was breathless when their lips finally parted, her mouth hanging open, forehead resting against hers. She smiled, looking up into those blue orbs burning with need. “We do not use a playroom. The trunk, underneath the window over there. Remove the blanket and open it. You will find a blindfold. Take it out and bring it to me.”

It was black; made from soft, genuine leather, a small v-shape cut from the middle. When the blindfold was in Eva’s hand, she bid Katherine turn around, and she secured it around the woman’s eyes. “There,” she said lightly, “now, do not move, and you may not remove this blindfold until I give permission.”

Carefully, and quickly, Eva pushed the coffee table away to a blank space in the wall–an object not well suited for evening’s games, at least, not when her charge was at such a disadvantage. She returned, slowly though, giving Katherine a small span of time to wait and wonder what might come next. Eva could not help but smirk at having the reporter bending to her will; she liked a thin thread of fear underneath such excitement and wonder. And the power she wielded in this moment? There was no greater turn on.

But, she did not make Katherine stand all alone for long, before Eva let her hands roam with hands that caressed, petted, and teased over the mounds of the woman’s fabric. “Do you want to know the truth, my dear?” Eva whispered into the woman’s ear from behind. “I thoroughly enjoyed it when you humiliated me. Just thinking about it makes me want you to do it again.” Slowly, Eva unzipped the woman’s gown, the fabric already slipping from Katherine’s shoulder. “See, I’ve loved domination–and being dominated–for as long as I can remember. The feel of ropes digging in, leather reddening my flesh, cruel, yet loving commands… all of it. Knowing that you will let me do anything to you that I want… the mere thought of it makes me weak in the knees.”

Eva took time and care removing the black gown from Katherine’s body, knowing from experience the difficulty of such a task when stripped of vision. She neatly set the dress on the coffee table, moving their untouched glasses of wine onto a nearby side table. Smiling, Eva turned back to look at the other woman–her woman–her eyes gazed up, and then down, stopping at the black stockings and chuckled lightly. “It is good you thought to wear stockings. In our game, it is our most important expectation. You must always wear stockings.

“Now then,” Eva said, standing immediately before the other woman, “you are to undress me. I want you to show me just how much you enjoyed ‘humiliating’ me. If you are convincing enough, your punishment for being bad will be less severe.”

Without a word, Katherine moved to the trunk, placed the blanket on the sofa, and retrieved the leather blindfold. With the item in hand, Cassatt handed it to Mrs. Morello and awaited her orders. She tried and failed to hide a smirk as the redhead affixed the blindfold. But, then, all was dark. Kat took a deep breath, her ears perking, attempting to gauge what Eva was doing. Was she moving furniture?

The living room was carpeted, but Kat could hear the other woman step closer, and Eva’s touch was still a surprise. Cassatt let out the tiniest gasp as those porcelain fingers caressed her body. Listening to the redhead as she spoke, Katherine found a kindred spirit in Eva. Though not nearly as experienced as her partner, the brunette craved many of the same sensations. The chiffon dress fell to the floor; Kat shivered. Blind as she was, Kat’s arms reached out to grab something. Anything. But there was nothing. She stumbled, her high heels wobbling, but Cassatt did not fall. Guided by Morello, the woman stepped out of her panties and was stripped naked, except for her black stockings and classic pumps.

“Always wear stockings.” The blindfolded woman repeated Eva’s words, her first utterance since the game began. It was such a peculiar feeling for Cassatt, standing in the middle of a living room, nearly naked and at Eva’s mercy. A wave of shame flushed in her face and chest, followed by a twinge of fear in her heart and stomach, but with those unsavory emotions also came arousal. What was Eva going to do to her? What was she going to do next?

Once Mrs. Morello laid out her commandment, Kat giggled. “I have undressed a woman in the dark before.” Cassatt did infer she had an advantage, and within a few seconds, the blinded woman reached out, moving carefully toward Eva’s warmth. Her fingers touched the lace and squeezed ever so gently. Katherine smirked as she found one of Eva’s breasts. “Sorry,” she said through a fit of giggles. Her right had moved along the shape of the tit, her fingers fluttering over the lacy tendrils. With her left hand, she found an arm that led to a shoulder. “Ah, here we go.” Her left hand on Eva’s shoulder, Katherine pivoted around Mrs. Morello until she was at the woman’s back. Both hands found the woman’s shoulders and moved to the center, where she found the zipper. With little effort, Kat unzipped the dress.

“Lean forward and cross your arms, please.” As Eva did, Kat tugged on each arm gingerly, a little at a time. Finally, the dress billowed, and the easy part was done. Kat, her left hand on Eva’s right shoulder, circled in front of the woman again. She let her fingers trance Eva’s arms down to the cuffs, where she tugged again and slipped off the top half of the dress. “Whew,” said Kat. “I need to get more exercise.”

At this point, Kat circled Eva and shimmied the rest of the dress to the floor. The panties were a little trickier, but it just took time. And finally, Cassatt rolled Mrs. Morello’s panties in her hand and stuffed them in the other woman’s ear.

“Sorry,” giggled Kat. “Pin the panties on the domme. I can honestly say I’ve never done this before.” There was much trial and error as Kat moved Eva’s arousal-soaked undies all over her face until she found the woman’s mouth. “There. Don’t you dare let them fall out.”

Moving to the other woman’s front, still giggling at the panties-in-the-ear debacle, Katherine kissed Eva’s face, holding her body close, and began to sway. Their lips touched. The two kissed deeply, sloppily, drooling. Kat tugged on Eva’s plump bottom lip, letting it snap back before descending to her neck … purring just under Eva’s ear … descending to her shoulders … gnawing on the redhead’s white skin … descending to her breasts … suckling the large pink nub, allowing her tongue to trace the areola. Kat’s fingers found Eva’s other nipple, tweaking the helpless bulb until the redhead responded in deep moans. The brunette lashed Morello’s nipples with her tongue, tickled them with her fingernails, and chewed softly on the tips of each excitable tit while her fingers caressed Eva’s heavenly breasts.

Katherine fell to her knees, parting Mrs. Morello’s legs just enough and teasing the slick slit with her tongue. Two fingers entered her wetness, fucking the domme. Her tongue quickly found the clit and whipped the little bud, enticing Eva further. Grabbing the woman’s ass cheeks, Kat pushed her face further between Morello’s legs, enjoying her sweet folds. Katherine ate that pussy like a starving peasant. Grinding her face deep into Eva’s sex, licking, kissing, nibbling, sucking until Morello was nearly dancing with lust. Finally, using three fingers, Kat fucked Eva as hard as she could, rubbing the woman’s g-spot while sucking her clit. After Eva came, Kat continued to lap like a kitten with a bowl of milk until Morello forced her to stop.

Sitting back, Cassatt looked up. The mask slid upward through friction, revealing a partial eye. The brunette’s lips, nose, and chin glistened in the light. “I may have accidentally cheated,” she said, giggling like a schoolgirl.

One blue eye peeked out, staring up the curves of Eva’s flushed skin. He kept his amusement subtle, as her realization would come too late. Neither woman noticed as he had watched them from a distance, leaning quietly amongst dancing shadows from the fireplace. It was easy to quietly slip out of his loafers and tread silently across the carpet in bare feet, neither seen nor heard until he took hold of his wife , in the height of pleasure, clamping his large calloused hand down over her stuffed mouth, silencing her pleasure. His eyes, however, turned downward, peering at the women who, in this moment, was proving to be a far greater threat than he anticipated.

“Enjoying, dessert, are you,” Alexander’s eyes narrowed, finding the touch of blue peering back at him. “It would have been far more polite to wait, Ms. Cassett.”

Eva whimpered against her husband, but her pleas were silenced as he tugged her body snugly against him. She shuddered, but made no attempt to resist, if anything, she appeared to welcome his rough treatment, which was no good either. He was not ready for her to be happy. “I’ll deal with you, darling wife, in a minute,” he said, pulling the panties out of her mouth, slowly, tucking them in the sleeve of his shirt. “Kneel, and do not move.”

His wife complied, dropping to her knees, leaning back on her haunches, habitually boxing her arms behind her.

Slowly, he circled both women. Both on their knees. Both waiting. It was the other woman, Katherine, that he watched most of all. Studied. The woman was terribly undisciplined; used to being in control, and always getting her way. She enjoyed her little pedestal of success, thinking no one could touch her. Oh yes, he would enjoy taming her, watching her wear down until the only words that ever passed her lips was “yes, sir.”

Tonight, however, he decided she had said enough, her tale of woe and terror notwithstanding. It was a tale he had heard more than once before, and seen. Alexander’s heart went out to the woman, but even that did little to deter his anger. She had threatened him. She had threatened his wife. Unacceptable.

Finally, he smirked, but there was no kindness there. A twitch of lips; a narrowing of eyes when the predator knew exactly what to do with his prey. Stopping just behind Katherine, his feet on either side of her legs, his body towering over her just close enough that if she leaned back she would brush against his erection. Letting his menacing presence sink in, he shifted that blindfold back over her eyes.

In just a few strides, he was then at his trunk, opening it with a gentle, but intentional thud as he started taking out many items, but mainly an impressive set of carefully coiled, pure white, nylon rope, and plopping several sets down next to Katherine, and nearly as much next to his wife.

Crouching down in front of Katherine, he marveled, briefly as she turned her head straining to sense what might happen next, as if she might manage a way to see through the blindfold. “Look at this mess of your chin, my dear.” He grasped his jaw gently, but firmly, keeping her from resisting as he dabbed up the fluids from her soaked chin before pushing the dampened fabric into Katherine’s mouth. Quickly, he secured the woman’s gag with a lovely silk scarf, pulling it snugly around the woman’s gaping mouth and tying it with a knot.

Satisfied, he turned his attention to the ropes. He took his time with this craft, slowly coiling ropes around her wrists, then moving to a frog tie on each leg with ropes just above the ankles, and just below the knees. For Alexander, the ropes were art, and the woman his canvas. It was more than just restraint. It was accentuating the curve of woman, bending, stretching, contorting a body against all will and reason, and then gifting her sacrifice with exquisite ecstasy over and over again until they begged for just a little bit more.

It was with this attitude, he harnessed her breasts, weaving rope over her shoulders and around her torso, securing her arms to her body, making the reporter feel every struggle deep in her gut. The best rope, however, and the most important one was the one he took several minutes to place just right between her legs; the one with a single knot painstakingly placed just at the entrance of womanhood, hot and ready at his touch. Every time Katherine struggled, he knew that little knot would feed sensation–a small added insult on the rope made to keep her always ready, and never to finish.

Once finished with the ropes, Alexander double checked each one, his coarse hands roaming every part of Katherine’s body, fondling her breasts, and thighs, taking full advantage of her weakened state. He also ensured that each rope was neither too snug, nor too tight, that the chest rose and fell naturally, and no appendages–even her breasts–were turning unnatural colors. As much as Alexander loved his games, he took absolutely no pleasure in causing injury. His game would be safe, or it would be not at all. As he was less familiar with Katherine’s gorgeous body, he took extra care. Only when he was completely satisfied did he remove her blindfold.

The wide-eyed anger in those blue eyes did not disappoint. But, he merely chuckled as he fondled her body some more, while leaning in close to her ear. “Passion cannot lie.”

“It’s okay,” he heard his wife whisper from behind, “give your trust. You are safe.”

His tone dropped an octave as he chuckled for a second time, turning himself around to face his wife. He pulled the leather wrapped o-ring from his pant’s pocket, and with only a look bid her open her mouth. In one fluid motion it was in her mouth and secured tightly around her head by its thick leather strap. If he made it tighter than usual, he knew it would not harm her, even as she whimpered pleadingly.

“Shhh, my love,” he said, tilting her head back by the chin, “tonight there is no good, and no bad. There is only my whim and desire. Understand?”

Eva nodded against his hand, and with another set of ropes he bound her–hand and foot–as soundly as he had Katherine. But her wrists, he pulled them back binding them high and tightly behind her head. He left her breasts alone however, enjoying how they bounced and moved with her stretched and strained body. God, it was hard not to take her right then.

“The game is simple ladies,” Alexander said as he stood, and comfortably planted himself on the sofa. Without looking he took one of the untouched wine glasses, and took a lingering sip. “You have until I finish this glass to pleasure one another. And, I bet, Ms. Cassett, if you are determined enough you can get my wife’s very available tongue to alleviate some of that mounting frustration.

“But,” he said, taking another small sip, “once this glass is empty, it will be my turn.”

Almost giddy, Katherine, with her one exposed eye, watched Eva’s glowing face. Was that a genuine smile? The usually composed woman seemed to have lost herself in the moment, just as Kat had done. But the smile faded, morphing into something partially stoic and fearful as she heard her husband from behind. Unfortunately, Kat focused only on Eva and noticed him too late. Still on her knees, clad only in black stockings and high heels, Cassatt gazed up to see Alex take control of his wife. Mr. Morello’s hand covered Eva’s mouth, but his near-black eyes aimed at Kat. The journalist started to rise; Eva’s gaze begged Cassatt not to move. She obeyed.

Mrs. Morello also obeyed her husband’s command in what looked like rehearsed choreography. She was flawlessly on cue, giving herself completely. Kathrine could only long for what could have been – her body bending to Eva’s every word. Instead, an old enemy came to haunt her night. Fear.

“Mr. Morello. I know that you are upset –”

Eva shook her head, her eyes urging Kat to remain silent and still as her husband circled them like a wolf. Then, as Kat could still see, the blindfold tilted on her face, she offered a plea through those beautiful blue eyes. She went unheard as the man stood behind the woman, his figure imposing. Soon, Katherine was blindfolded again as her heartbeat raced. “Please –”

By the sound of his footsteps, Morello did not leave the room, but the steady rhythm of Eva’s breath increased when the box opened and shut. Footsteps came toward Kat and then a thump on the floor. At his first touch, Katherine jumped, nearly toppling onto the carpet. His hands were rough and warm as they explored her body. Kat yipped like a fox, whimpering at every touch. “Please …” She begged.

A familiar scent touched Cassatt’s nostrils—Eva’s panties. She jerked as he forced her mouth open. Unintelligible curses flung at Alex until her lover’s soaked panties were forced between her teeth. Kat wanted to taste Eva’s juice again, but not like this.

Something soft and thin trailed over her flesh. The journalist couldn’t place it until Alex twined the alien material around her arms. Rope. “No … I –” He did not stop, even as her body shook. Despite Eva’s earlier pleas, this time, Cassatt fought back. Like a cat, she tried to twist her body, but too soon, she felt the twine encircle her breasts. “MMMMHHHMM!” Katherine lurched to the side as if she could escape, but there was no hope. The rope was soft, not like the hemp she was used to, but tied around her soft breasts, she could feel the circulation slowly eroding. While Alex worked, Kat pulled and tugged. She would not sit still and be his prey as the silken string curved over her body. His breath, she could hear. His hands, she could feel. These sensations assaulted her over and over as desperation set in, and she tried to bolt but found her legs tied together, her arms tied to her torso.

Whimpering, Cassatt felt the man’s hands run the twine between her legs. And the knot. She certainly felt the knot. Kat screamed through her gag, her head thrashing back and forth. “MMmhhmmm!” But each movement twisted the knot into her sex, rebuilding the arousal that resided within only a few minutes ago. Kat squirmed each time Alex touched her, damning herself to more unwanted ecstasy.

Finally, the blindfold came off, and Katherine glared at her captor with a volcano of rage deep within her heart. Alexander Morello may have been a wolf, but she was a corned wildcat, ready to strike and claw at the first opportunity. Her eyes moved with him as the man stepped toward his wife, watching helplessly as he bound the obliging Eva. Her blue eyes, now filled with rage, never left Alex. She watched as he worked, noting how he tied and restrained a woman, how he tied her. A chill ran over Cassatt’s flesh, but she did not move. Instead, she waited.

Alex sat on the sofa, a drink in his hand. His challenge had been issued. Katherine’s glare moved from him to Eva. Katherine’s eyes narrowed as the woman shook her head. She would not play his game.

Unfortunately for Cassatt, Eva was too well trained. Bound as she was, the woman humiliated herself by wobbling toward Kat and nodding. Again, Katherine shook her head. Eva, resolved to obey her husband, slowly moved closer until the two were face to face. Her blue eyes pleading, Mrs. Morello ignored the woman and steadily lowered herself. Kat bounced back and forth to get away, the knot digging into her sex; she hissed through the gag. This time Eva pleaded with her eyes.

What would he do to her if she disobeyed him? Trust them, they said. Begrudgingly, Kat nodded.

“Once this glass is empty, it will be my turn.”

To the journalist, poor Eva looked like a gimp in a sideshow with her arms pinned up and behind her back and her mouth forced open. Did she like this? Wondered Cassatt. Katherine moved as best as she could toward the other woman, the knot between her legs gnawing at her sex. Her breasts were already a rosy color. How was she going to do this? Gagged and bound as she was. If anything, the woman was ingenious, recalling how she busted out of the chair. First, Kat took a deep breath and let herself fall to one side.

“Mmhhhrrrmm!”

Pain jabbed her arm and bound breasts when she hit the carpeted floor, and the knotted rope also made Kat aware of itself. Second, the brunette kicked off her shoes as quickly as she could. Third, she pivoted on the floor, using her nose, chin, and knees to crawl until her thighs pointed to Eva. The knot, of course, tormented Kat every inch of the way. She was half-crazed after enjoying Eva. Now, her sex was plump and throbbing, her juices slickening the rope. The reporter’s goal was almost within reach.

Fourth, Cassatt lifted her thigh and rubbed Mrs. Morello’s pussy. She had rubbed off many women with her soft thighs, though not with her legs bound. As always, the knot dug into her folds each time Cassatt lifted her leg. Eva’s moans were delicious to hear, and Cassatt couldn’t help but peer at Alex, her eyes boasting, “I’m fucking your wife.”

But what was to come next for Kat? Was Morello going to rape her? Tease her until she begged for his dick? During her struggles, the fear had subsided somewhat. However, that fear returned when she noticed his wine glass was nearly empty, and all she did was rile herself into a state through his well-placed rope. She rubbed Eva quickly, hoping to relieve her before the ordeal began.

The faster Kat ground her thigh against Eva’s sex, the more the knot taunted the reporter. Eva had to be close. Quickly, the reporter glanced toward the sofa and noticed an empty wine glass on the nightstand. She shook her head fiercely as her eyes begged.

“MMMMGGHHGRMMM!”

But Katherine’s heart sank when Alexander stepped toward both ladies.

Eva admired Katherine so much. How she threw herself into every action, doing nothing halfway. Even she flinched, when the other woman flung herself to the ground, putting herself into position to give another round of pleasure, her thigh managing to find that perfect spot that rubbed against her clit, sending tiny tremors through her body.

All she could do, of course, is whimper and sway. Even if she wanted to lie down besides her new lover, she didn’t have the range of motion to contort her body in that way. Her husband’s tie had been intentional in that way, leaving her somewhat unbalanced, her body stuck swaying about, hopelessly seeking equilibrium, that would never be granted so long as she was tied and so wonderfully immobile. That feeling… that feeling of her body being pulled and pushed in all different directions, forced into unnatural states of being… there was nothing sexier in the universe. And the more Katherine played into her role, terrified as she was, the more turned on Eva became. Drool trickled down her chin as her tongue flickered about, unable to keep still while so exposed, while her strained whimpers and cries came out strangled and desperate. Even the discomfort of the too-tight-O-ring faded somewhere into the background as her entire body hummed with desire.

Her eyes were fixed on Katherine as she worked. Those blue eyes were filled with so much emotion. That same fear and anger from their previous games had returned. And yet, so was the determination. Eva desired more than anything to help her; to comfort her. Bondage, or no, all she wanted to do was comfort the woman, and despite it all, earn her trust. Her respect. Her love.

Desiring this woman as she did, it had not been a part of the plan. And yet, there she was… the moment she broke that chair… a moment that had left Eva paralyzed in fear, when it would have been so easy for Katherine to just leave, regardless of threats… and yet, she had stayed. And, again, at dinner, as the woman bared her soul. And still, she stayed. She promised to honor her end of the arrangement. A brave, strong, and perfect woman.

Eva squealed as hands that had touched her a million times lifted her effortlessly away from the other woman, fully out of reach to receive any more pleasure. Her body shuddered as it was suddenly denied all pleasure. Her whimpers came out childish, drool dripping onto the space between her full round breasts.

His hand fell upon her again, this time her forehead, as he gently tilted her wide cinnamon gaze up to his, and if she could, she would have smiled. Gently, he ran his fingers through her long bangs pushing them back, and even through his commanding gaze, she felt the love and adoration behind those black eyes. Alexander’s lips puckered together, sending her a sultry kiss. She narrowed her eyes, reminding him how unfair it was when he teased her like that.

He turned then to Katherine, still prone on the carpet, looking up with eyes as wide, and bold as the midday sky, while he worked at the buttons of his shirt. “I am impressed, Ms. Cassett. So much effort laced with so much fear. You are remarkably brave. I admire that very much.”

Alex tossed his shirt back to the sofa, his broad shoulders and olive skin bared. Eva knew exactly how toned those muscles were, if not bulky. But of late, her eyes always strayed to the very pink, and very coarse spot of marred sink just below his collar bone. A constant, horrific, reminder of who–and what–her husband was. Every time she saw it, she hoped to not have to think about it, but still memories flashed before her eyes:

Standing on the balcony, looking out across a dusty urban landscape set before a mountain covered in pure white snow. The phone rings, and she turns to walk to the bedside table. She never makes it. The building shudders. Deafening boom. She turns. Ash, smoke, flying rubble. Then nothing. Nothing at all….

“Tell me, mio caro giornalista,” Alex wrapped his arm around her bare leg, caressing the exposed skin of her inner thigh. Slowly, his fingers trailed lower touching her everywhere except her sex. “How flustered are you? Are you ready for release? Is this little rope-” he tugged it gently, “becoming too much?” He smirked down at her, while his free hand traced up Katherine’s belly, and up the mound of her breast. Gently he squeezed it in his hand, and Eva knew that he was assessing her state as much as he was sweetly tormenting her. Subtly, he was testing the ropes, making sure that nothing was pinching, or rubbing incorrectly–he knew exactly how to ensure the safety of women under his care while driving them mad with need at the same time.

He toyed with her exposed body a few moments more, fingering her breasts and nipples until they were both hard and tight, before running his hands back down to her thighs, touching her everywhere except where she needed it most. “It is fascinating to me. You would sacrifice yourself to pleasure my wife. Do you wish to suffer just to please her? Or do you merely hope to challenge me?”

Alexander picked up the other woman then, setting her back upright just inches away from Eva, nearly knee-to-knee, before walking briefly over to the trunk. A second later Eva spied the long, thin vibrator in his hand, a small but powerful object no larger than a tube of lipstick. He switched it on as he crouched before Katherine, tracing the object along her breasts and body before slipping it securely behind the crotch rope just above the folds of her sex, and Eva knew all too well how those vibrations would travel along the rope–exquisite punishment and pleasure in equal measure.

While Katherine moaned and writhed, Alex tugged the now soaked scarf from over the woman’s mouth and pulled out the dripping panties, tossing them aside. Eva whimpered, trying to lean forward for a kiss she could not give, but still her body denied her such reach. Still, she tried.

In the meantime, Alex stood, unfastening his pants, removing the last of his clothing and kicking them away. Standing between the two women he stroked his large and full erection slowly and rhythmically. His eyes shined like black flames as he stared down pointedly at Katherine. “Hush,” he cooed, his voice deep and gruff, “I would never cross that line before you were completely ready. I am not that kind of monster.”

Instead, he dropped to the floor, kneeling behind Eva, and her moan was strangled as he lifted her up, balancing her on her knees, positioning her sex just above his erection. Only his arms around her kept her from falling, his grip necessarily severe, but sensuous all at once. She trusted him completely not to let her fall, and her body shuddered as he guided himself inside her tight, welcoming pussy.

It was an incredibly difficult position to maintain as they made love. Eva could not move, her concentration focused on maintaining balance, while Alex pleasured her from behind. If he lost his control for even a minute, they would both slip and stumble, and that perfect moment diminished. It was a dangerous, but an absolutely sexy tango–and something the both loved. After so many years of marriage and games, Eva marveled at Alex’s creativity, and such uncanny ability to take their love and push it to greater limits. At that very moment, she could not have loved him more.

And Katherine? She was more than just the icing on this delicious treat. Looking at the other woman, her own pleasure mounting, her orgasm building rapidly, their bodies so close together they could almost touch.This woman was not just a means to an end, or some tryst to keep the passion alive, Eva was starting to realize just how much she needed a woman like her in her life. How much she began to realize that she could not imagine a night like tonight without her being a part of it.

Katherine was the taller between the two women, but hoisted up as Eva was, she was eye-to-eye with the other woman. She strained her body, stuck out her tongue from her gaping mouth, wordlessly begging the other to lean in close, they could almost kiss, almost touch… her whimpers were begging the other woman to join them, even as she struggled against her own battles of ecstasy. Her dark cinnamon eyes bore into those wild blues. Katherine, she pleaded with her eyes, and sheer force of will, join us. Love us. Please, please, please, accept us.

Richmond, Virginia – Three years ago

Today, Evelyn Chambers is best known as the wife of Eric “Bud” Chambers, the youngest of Virginia’s State Supreme Court Justices. She’s an attorney working in Richmond’s DA office with a 93% conviction rating. Together they have two daughters and a son. Evelyn is also the author of the new book My Journey from Nothing. Ten years ago, Evelyn Chambers was raped. In the new book, she talks candidly about her sexual assault and her legal hurdles to seeking justice. I’m Katherine Cassatt, and I spoke to Evelyn about her ordeal and recovery from her plantation-style home.

Katherine Cassatt: First, Evelyn, thank you for your bravery and for stepping forward. And thank you for inviting me to talk to you about this deeply personal topic.

Evelyn Chambers: You are welcome. I hope my story can help others.

Katherine Cassatt: That’s why we are here. How are you doing?

Evelyn Chambers: I’m good. Some days are better than others, but my family and friends help me through tough times.

Katherine Cassatt: Let’s dive into it. Tell us, what you can, about the day you were assaulted.

Evelyn Chambers: I was at a gym, alone. Only one employee was on duty. I won’t say his name, but I knew him, and we were cordial. He had flirted with me once or twice, but I didn’t respond, and he stopped. I was on the treadmill when he called my name and asked if I would help him move a few boxes.

Katherine Cassatt: You had done that before?

Evelyn Chambers: Not with him, but with one of the girls who worked there. I went in, and he asked me if I wanted to go out. I asked him about the boxes. He said there were no boxes and asked if I would go out with him. I said no. He got very angry and charged at me. I ran, but this guy was over six feet and broad-shouldered. He must have weighed over 250 pounds. I was 115 at the time.

Katherine Cassatt: Okay. And then?

Evelyn Chambers: and then …

Katherine Cassatt: Take your time.

Evelyn Chambers: He uhm … he didn’t – he didn’t penetrate me. Instead, he … oh god … he pleasured me.

Katherine Cassatt: And you had an orgasm, didn’t you?

Evelyn Chambers: Yes.

Katherine Cassatt: Did you scream or call for help?

Evelyn Chambers: He covered my mouth. I remembered a piece of advice from a friend who had also been raped. She said … “Focus on an object in the room. That way, you can take yourself out of the moment and get through it.” I did. I counted the holes in the ceiling.

Katherine Cassatt: Did he say anything to you?

Evelyn Chambers: He noticed I had – he said, “You liked it.”

Katherine Cassatt: The police did catch him, correct?

Evelyn Chambers: Yes. I was in shock but had the presence of mind to hold off on a shower. I wanted to. I wanted to wash everything away, but I called 911, and the police came. I went to the hospital, and they did an exam.

Katherine Cassatt: He was sentenced to 15 years in prison but is up for parole in six months. Correct?

Evelyn Chambers: Y-yes.

Sex without connection was unfulfilling for Katherine. Many one-night stands led to carnal satisfaction but left her dull and keenly aware of the time. Only a select few stopped the earth from spinning. Despite what they had endured together, Eva was one of those few. Kat craved her. She needed the red-maned woman. God, that word. Eva defined it completely.

WOMAN.

Present

The knotted rope destroyed her, but Kat was determined to finish Eva before her husband intervened. Her blue eyes were transfixed on Eva’s body, embracing the beauty of the woman’s predicament. The sheen on her chest from Eva’s drool drove the reporter’s eye to her full breasts, the redhead’s nipples pert and full. The soft flesh bounced while Katherine whimpered for her lover. Sadly, Cassatt did not complete the task and watched as her new lover was whisked away. Alex was a monster for denying his wife, yet she embraced every cruelty. More, she craved it. Kat, who had never been jealous, screamed through her gag. “MMMRRRMMMHHMM!”

“How dare you take her away from me.”

But Eva was his wife. Cassatt should have questioned her moral fortitude. She should have walked out and damn the consequences. But, as she had been told recently, passion did not lie, and her lust for Eva had only grown since the two were bound. Instead, helplessly, she watched Alexander take his wife, molding her skillfully into whatever shape he pleased. In a way, Kat resented Eva’s quick surrender. It should have been her bending to Eva’s will. But Kat’s brain, alive with estrogen and dopamine, elements of lust and attraction, could no longer conceive of a world where she and Mrs. Morello did not belong. The knot, toying with her petals as she squirmed, released dark fantasies that Cassatt dared not speak. How did it happen so fast? Did she want to surrender?

Yes. Completely.

No. She wasn’t the story.

While frightened eyes watched Alex move toward her, Kat did not flinch an inch. His shirt tossed to the side; Kat noticed the scar below his collarbone. Her eyes moved toward his smiling black orbs for a second before she was forced by her own dignity to turn away.

“Focus on an object in the room. That way, you can take yourself out of the moment and get through it.”

Katherine moved her gaze to Eva as Mr. Morello’s hands explored her body. Oddly, Kat focused on the lace part of Eva’s stocking, touching the delicate floral pattern with her eyes. Se loved the woman’s legs in those sheer black stockings. It was so tempting to kiss up her leg.

Do you wish to suffer just to please her? Or do you merely hope to challenge me?”

“Mmmhhrrhh!” A finger tugged at the knotted rope.

Her eyes narrowed. Was it both? Even Katherine didn’t know. Her breasts were groped, and her thighs were caressed. The teasing mounted. He pulled on the knot, letting it snap back into place. Kat arched her back. Her neck swiveled. Moans escaped her gag, drawing out a shame she had never experienced. The man placed Cassatt on her knees and returned to the trunk. She hated that thing. What evil would he extract this time?

According to Eva’s look, the mini vibe was something beyond endurance. Katherine shook her head violently. She did everything she could to keep her legs together. Finally, he pried her bound legs with minimal force and slipped the tiny vibe between her sex and the knotted rope. She thrashed and shook, screaming through the gag which he removed.

“You bloody son of – son of a bitch.” Her whole body betrayed her, shivering, shaking, needing. She shut her eyes tight, hoping to wish away the added ecstasy between her legs. It was useless. Tears welled in her eyes until she heard his pants hit the floor. She gasped as she saw Alex’s naked form beside her, his large cock, rigid and ready.

“No!” Kat screamed, cowering. “Please. Don’t –”

Cassatt was cut off by Alex’s reassurances. And she watched as Morello took his bride, giving her the desired pleasure. Katherine knew that feeling. As much as she preferred women, she knew the bliss of being filled and never needed it more.

“Gah!” Cassatt screamed. The vibe continued its assault, forcing the knotted rope to quiver. She felt every pulse through her tender folds. Her clit screamed. Her walls dripped with a blissful agony, desperate to be fucked. Was this his plan? To force her to beg – to beg for his cock? It was a gnawing itch she could not scratch, made worse by Eva’s moans of pleasure. Katherine violently tugged at the ropes for the first time in hopes of freedom, but Morello was a pro. There was no escape. Finally, the woman dug her nails into her stockings; an attempt to fend off the desire, but not even pain deterred the need.

But even in her crazed state, Katherine marveled at Alex’s gifts and how he pleasured his wife in such a position—his wife. Eva. Cassatt, starting to sob, focused on those cinnamon eyes. Eyes that beckoned to her. Kat wanted to surrender, to feel Eva’s touch.

“Accept us,” those brown eyes begged. Tears rolled over Cassatt’s cheeks when she nodded and wiggled closer to Eva. The two touched tongues, slithering in a dance. Kat pulled away. A string of saliva bridged between the two tongues before it broke. Kat whimpered. Their eyes met again.

“Eva. We’re under a waterfall, you and I. We kiss – no. It’s more than a kiss. We bond. Our bodies pressed together, baptized by the water as our fingers explore the other’s flesh. Do we give in and drown in lush ecstasies or torture one another until madness takes us both? I’d have no regrets if I died under that waterfall with you.”

Morello sped his pace, tilting his wife closer and closer to the edge. Kat could only suffer, listening to Eva’s symphony of cries and moans. The audible sensations tormented Kat as sure as the vibe tore her in two. Alex slowed his pace, whispering softly to his wife’s ear. They were perfect together, a dark, forbidden love built on death.

Although he had not finished himself, Mr. Morello pulled out of his wife. The man stood between the two women. Kat reared back; sure, he would finish with her. Instead, he untied his wife carefully, ensuring not to mark her any more than the rope already had. As the twine unraveled, Kat spotted deep pink indentions around Eva’s white flesh. Finally free, he caressed and cooed her name, loving her like a man should love his woman. Kat helplessly watched, her sex dripping with anger. She turned away, whimpering and crying.

Again, Alex whispered softly into Eva’s ear, but it was not reassurance, love, or hope. Instead, he gave her strict orders. She nodded and crawled to Katherine. At first, Cassatt saw the light of hope and would soon be free, but when Eva’s hand caressed her face, Katherine knew she would face her greatest challenge yet. There would be release, eventually, but at a price. Kat, on the very edge of insanity, felt Eva’s hands and mouth move across her bound breasts.

Republican Rally, Late Summer 1998

Heels echo dully against freshly lacquered floors. She tries to keep up, her tiny four-year old legs not quite able to match the gait. Delicate fingers, tipped with an impeccable french manicure tightens around the tiny chubby hand. Large brown eyes widen, and those tiny feet become determined to keep up.

“Hurry!” The woman’s voice chided. “And remember what I told you.”

She repeats the directions. A mistake would be bad, and she wanted to be a good girl. “Sit where you say. Don’t make noise, Don’t fid-et. Stay put.”

“Fidget! Say it right, child!”

“F-fid-et.”

The woman sighs, shaking her head. “That’s it. I’m signing you up for elocution lessons.”

“Yes, mother.” Her cheeks turn red. She made her upset. Again.

The hallways are small, filled with things. Some things are shiny, others big. Those wide five-year old eyes dart around trying to make sense of it all. A large portrait of an old man in an old gray outfit, and a weird looking American Flag in the back. The white stars in that blue “X” pattern made some grown ups angry. Why? Did the person who made it not try their best? Wasn’t it wrong to copy someone else’s art?

She gasps and her arm hurts when it is pulled. Almost fell. That would make her unhappy. “Sorry, mother,” she says quickly, running to stay in step.

Her legs look smooth; sheer stockings leaving pale skin unmarred and perfect. Black high heels making her taller. Mother says high heels and a perfect skirt make men happy. She says it’s important to always keep men happy at all times.

The room they enter is large. Lots of grown ups are dressed in fancy clothes standing in line to enter an even bigger room with lots of places to sit, and a stage. All the shoes are shiny, and as those big brown eyes look up she sees men with red and blue ties, dark suits. Women are also wearing suits; lots of pearl necklaces, and beautiful faces. The girl hopes to be as pretty as they are so day, so she too can stand by men and make them happy.

The little girl is first told to sit in the folding chairs by the flags. A man walks up. He says that’s for the color guard. Mother scoffs and pulls her to the back of the room. The line of people entering gets longer. Lots of voices, all of them getting louder. They walk into another room, and down a plain boring hallway with walls painted in boring light brown. Mother’s heels are louder on this floor, and as she walks faster the sound gets louder. “Mother!” She tries to ask her to slow down, but she gets upset and grips her hand tighter. It’s starting to hurt.

They turn the corner. The stage is just beyond, and a large group of people grouped in the hallway. Her eyes light up as she sees daddy. She starts to call out, but he doesn’t hear, and mother slapped her firmly on the behind. “What did I say about interrupting your father when he’s working?!”

Tears well in those brown eyes, but she knows better than to cry. Her gaze falls and she nods her head, whispering. “Sorry mother.”

“I suppose you’re just going to have to sit in the corner.” Mother pointed to a spot in the hallway.

She rubs her hand. It’s red. Quickly she sits cross-legged in the corner, smoothing out the folds of her new favorite pink dress–she wanted to show it to daddy. Mother said he got it for her. Instead, she looks down and folds her hands.

~~~

It’s been a long time. Sometimes it gets quiet, and then everyone screams and cheers. It gets loud. Then her uncle talks some more. He sounds angry, his fist slamming down on the tall wooden thing with all the fuzzy things on top. She thinks they are flowers. Black flowers that make shouting echo. People get loud again. This time she didn’t expect it and she gasps, covering her ears.

She wants to go home. Madison, the nice girl, would maybe be there. They got to have tea parties together. And sometimes, Madison would let her sneak into her dad’s office and watch cartoons. Couldn’t tell mother though. TV wasn’t allowed.

~~~

She’s been here forever. She tries to be good, and quiet. But, it’s starting to hurt. Dare she move and ask for help? Mother will be angry, but maybe it won’t be so bad? Gently, she rocks herself, pushing her tiny fists into her lap. Can’t hold it anymore.

Standing up makes it hurt more. Must hurry! Urgently she pulls on mother’s skirt. “I need to-”

Mother’s face turns bright red, almost as red as her hair, tightly pulled back in a smooth, braided bun. She opens her pursed lips, finger pointing down at the little girl.

Courage takes hold of the little girl. “Bathroom!”

Another woman stands next to mother, leans over and whispers. “If you would like I can take-”

“No!” Mother whispers harshly. “She needs to learn to wait.” Cold icy eyes glare down. She’s really mad. “Get back to your corner. Now.”

She runs, and sits. Again, she knows better than to cry. Even as warm fluids stain her pink dress.

[hr][/hr]

His words were gruff and clipped. He had denied himself his own release. Eva looked at him, her big brown eyes wide, lacking in focus as her body readjusted to its renewed freedom, still humming from her orgasm. “You will please her, touch her, and tease her until I say stop. She is not to be allowed orgasm. Understand?”

Eva could only nod, and slowly she crawled to Katherine, unsteady even on her hands and knees. She focused on the first thing she saw suckling, caressing, and caring for those poor neglected breasts. Her hands roamed along her bare skin, around her torso, back, and down to Katherine’s round, but firm ass. Gently she squeezes both cheeks, and she can feel the trembling coursing through her body. Eva’s breath stopped for a heartbeat as she looked into the woman’s glistening eyes, rimmed red, and those tear-stained cheeks left Eva frowning, her brow furrowed.

Without a second thought, Eva pulled herself closer, straddling herself over the other woman’s bound legs, pressing her body–and her sex–against the other woman. The vibrator was a distant sensation, but still it callously teased her already sensitive sex. That tiny object was terribly powerful, and quite unrelenting. And she knew Katherine’s madness; Alex sweetly tortured her with it many times in just that way; denying her until Eva was certain that she would die from the need. He always seemed to know just how far a woman could be pushed.

Gently, Eva pushed away some of the dampness of those cheeks with her thumbs, as if she could truly wipe away those tears. She cradled Katherine’s face in her hands, planting soft kisses on each cheek, and then along her jaw. The woman’s entire body shook, her shoulders tense–they would surely be sore later. “Talk to me Katherine,” she whispered, resting her forehead against her lover’s, “are you able to keep going? You can make this end if you need to. Just say ‘stop,’ or, sometimes, we say ‘red.’”

The kiss on Katherine’s lips was gentle, but Eva did not linger there. It was more like shaking hands on a promise–her promise–to make it stop if it was too much. But, that was apparently against the rules, as the riding crop landed firmly on her own back cheek with a ringing slap. Immediately, Eva looked up to see her husband towering over them, the long black leather tipped toy in his hand. His erection flapped in thin air, still glistening, and she stared up at him wondrously, ever impressed by his capacity for control and patience.

“I told you to tease her. Do not stop,” he said, coolly with an equally firm slap to her other cheek.

She nodded, casting her eyes down shamefully as she sat back, resuming her sweet treatment of those lovely, and perfect breasts. At some point, she laid Katherine down, carefully resting her comfortably, careful to not let her bound hands pinch beneath her own body weight. This allowed Eva’s hands–and lips–to more easily play along those breasts, but also her torso, and even her thighs. And the entire time, Alex was there, crop in hand, sometimes caressing it along her own bare flesh as a strict reminder of the consequences if she did not follow instructions, or if she got too close to Katherine’s sex.

“Kneel between her legs,” Alex commanded, his tone cool. Calm, despite another gentle slap on her left cheek.

Eva complied, and he stroked her new sore spot with the toy.

“Kiss the inside of her thighs, slowly trace your lips and tongue until you are close to her sex.” Eva complied, and again he slapped her on the right cheek. His treatment, though, went from punishment, to encouragement as a jockey would his prize mare.

“Now, reach up, and massage her breasts with your hand. Care for them. Love them.” This time he slapped the inside of her thighs, one stroke for each side, and, on cue, she spread her legs. “Good. There you go. Keep massaging her. Keep touching her.”

Eva shuddered when she felt the head of his penis tease along her sex, rubbing against her clit slowly. Slap! “Ah-ah,” he chided, bringing the crop down firmly on her ass again, “I said do not stop.”

His penis teased her more, rubbing along her labia and between her cheeks; playing everywhere except where it belonged. “Fuck!” She hissed, thinking mostly of Katherine, her face contorted with such misery. “Please let me fuck her, Sir!”

Slap! Eva cursed under her breath. Slap!

“I said tonight would be my desire,” his tone remained dangerously calm and patient while his erection started rubbing faster along her slick folds. “Keep teasing her. Let your lips hover over her sex, and with your teeth take hold of that sweet bit of rope and tug it aside.”

Eva did as she was bid, guilt welling up in her chest, fueling her own needs and ecstasy. Did she hate herself a little for loving this? For being turned on at the expense of another? No. And yes. May God forgive her, she honestly did not know. And still her lips pressed down on the rope just above Katherine’s sex, and her tongue flicked out, slipping it under the soft, supple twine lifting it up just enough for her to grip it in her teeth. Katherine cried, screamed and whined against her efforts. The vibrator instantly fell away, becoming nothing more than a little tube dancing somewhere on the carpet underneath them all.

“Now,” Alex said, his voice still eerily calm and in control, “pull the rope aside.”

It was a near impossible task. Eva tugged on the rope, gentle as she could, having to fight both the tautness, as well as Katherine’s body bucking violently against the sudden tug and pull of the rope. Twice the rope fell from her teeth, each time earning her attention from the crop. His crop. And still, he teased her own sex while she tried to work.

She finally got it on the fifth–or was it the sixth?–try, the rope managing to stay just outside her hot, and very swollen sex. Eva flinched when large calloused hands caressed her ass cheeks, both of which were surely red as candied cherries by now. The tip of his penis was now pushing slowly inside her sex, and Eva shuddered, tears pricking at the edge of her eyes. She knew she would not cry though–she never cried. Ever.

“That’s my clever wife,” he praised, and Eva did not need to look at him to see him smiling down at her, “you may fuck her now. With your mouth. But you may not stop until I am ready to come. And then you will finish me with that wonderful mouth of yours.”

DAMN IT! At that moment the sort of heat that only rage could give flushed her cheeks. Pure anger. She thought they were past this. They talked about it. Agreed. In this moment she hated him as much as she loved him. How. Dare. He. Eva buried that too down into the endless depths of her soul, and as she parted Katherine’s legs and bent down low, slipping her tongue deep into her begging, waiting sex.

Richmond, Virginia – Three years ago

I continued my interview with Evelyn Chambers on her ordeal and her new book, My Journey from Nothing.

Katherine Cassatt: Some critics suggest that you were not technically raped. What do you say to them?

Evelyn Chambers: I have nothing to say to them. Either they don’t know what they are talking about, they are lying, or they are evil.

Katherine Cassatt: Evil?

Evelyn Chambers: Yes. Either the devil sent them, or they are so insecure or pathetic that they can’t distinguish right from wrong.

Katherine Cassatt: This happened ten years ago. Why write the book now?

Evelyn Chambers: I wanted to write my story after the man was sentenced because it was so fresh in my mind, but that was the very reason I couldn’t. The incident was too new, and I wanted my life back. I would not let him hurt me any more than he had.

Katherine Cassatt: One of the governor’s opponents has suggested you wrote the book to gain sympathy, and your husband is a friend of Governor Mitchem.

Evelyn Chambers: I began with notes I made ten years ago and dove into the process two years ago. So, no. I did this for me to get it out and for anyone whom it might help.

Katherine Cassatt: I won’t repeat names, but a recent US representative said of rape, “Lie back and enjoy it.” What do you say to that?

Evelyn Chambers: Go to hell.

Katherine Cassatt: Fair enough. You were hit repeatedly during the attack, correct?

Evelyn Chambers: Yes. He had his hand over my mouth, but I was still screaming. He hit me in the face three times. I guess he was frustrated or scared someone might hear me. I don’t know which.

Katherine Cassatt: He hit you in the eye once, correct?

Evelyn Chambers: Yes, my eye was red for two weeks. And it hurt—a lot.

Katherine Cassatt: In fact, this man was not charged with rape but a lesser charge of sexual misconduct.

Evelyn Chambers: Yes. It was the – the hitting that elevated the charge to sexual assault.

Katherine Cassatt: As we discussed earlier, you orgasmed during this crime. How did that affect you? Your sex life? Your life in general?

Evelyn Chambers: I felt dirty, that maybe he was right. Maybe I did like it, but I was lucky and had an excellent therapist. She convinced me that I was the victim and that my body did not betray me but that he manipulated my body chemistry. It took me a long time to accept that, but I could move forward once I did.

Katherine Cassatt: Thank you very much for this chat. I’m sorry for your ordeal. Good luck with your book. It looks like you are moving forward quite well.

Evelyn Chambers: I am. Thank you.

As a journalist, Katherine knew she would record this evening one day. When or how was irrelevant, but she would tell this story. Statistically, over 80% of women could only achieve orgasm through clitoral stimulation. Katherine was such a woman. However, Kat feared the feeling was unknowable unless experienced, but she had to try.

Cheesecake with a drizzle of dark chocolate was Kat’s favorite dessert. She once tried a chocolate cheesecake, but something about that tiny amount of melted, bitter-sweet chocolate on top set the dessert on fire for her. The sweet, salty, buttery, creamy, and bitter mixture created an orgasm for her taste buds. If she were to enjoy such a dessert while a beautiful woman performed cunnilingus on her, Kat knew she would die instantly and go to heaven to live all eternity in bliss. But, on the other hand, Hell was Cassatt tied to a chair, gagged, starving to death, and such a cheesecake just out of reach. She could smell and taste the dessert, yet her stomach gnawed and growled, but she’d never be fulfilled.

On the plane, Kat lived in a limbo between heaven and hell. In the Morello living room, there was only suffering. Katherine tried to remain still as she lay on the floor, bound completely, though not tightly, by soft white rope. Each time Kat moved, the knot and rope pulsating over her sex moved to deepen her predicament. Were she able to remove the ropes but not the sensations, Cassatt feared suicide might provide her only relief. But, no, she was not that desperate. Not yet.

However, stillness did not provide any sense of relief. Instead, Kat doomed herself to an unquenchable need that moved her like a puppet. Laying on her back, nearly immobile, Cassatt banged her head on the carpet. She balled her fists and tugged at the ropes. Her legs opened and closed as she rolled on the floor, searching for a spot of comfort. There was none. She felt the desire deep in her thighs, her abdomen; her sex was made of smoldering coals. Her very soul needed escape.

Blue eyes caught Eva crawling toward her—finally, salvation. But Kat’s hopes were shattered by the redhead’s sympathetic frown. “No …” Cassatt mewed. Soft, warm hands found her breasts as petal-soft lips kissed and taunted her nipples. The journalist gritted her teeth as new tears stung her eyes.

“Talk to me, Katherine ….”

Promises of release kissed Cassatt’s ears, but Kat, in her frenzied state, could only spout curses. “Son of a bitch! Bloody motherfucking cocksucker! Damn you to hell for this…!” The bound woman twisted like a leaf in the wind as she heard leather on flesh. Hate-filled eyes narrowed at the man with the crop. His orders were clear, and his obedient wife continued Kat’s torture. Would it have been different with only Eva and Katherine? Yes. Eva would stop the torment, only for Kat to beg her to start again. She wanted those beautiful hands and those rose-petal lips to torture her, but not like this. Not with him.

The crop landed on Mrs. Morello’s backside again and again, forcing her to tease the reporter’s soaking thighs. “AUUGHGHH!” Kat screamed the closer Eva came to her sex. Another whack. “Stop it! Please! Stop!” Cassatt cried. Was she begging for herself or Eva? The brunette didn’t know either. “Rygglös feg,” she whispered the Swedish curse under her raspy breath and shot an angry glance at Alex.

“Spinless coward.”

The vibe fell to the floor, granting Katherine relief from the torture, or at least she thought. Reinforced by the pain of the crop, Eva was commanded to inflict a new agony upon Kat. The knotted rope, moved only by Eva’s teeth, fed a new sensation into Cassatt. For the love of God, it was worse than the vibe. A slippery, hot tongue teased her folds as the rope moved back and forth, damming her further to hell.

“GGAHH! Please, stop! I-I’ll do – I’ll do whatever you want! AUUGHHH!” Her head thrashed back and forth. Fresh, hot tears streamed down the side of her face. Finally, Alex granted her plea, and Eva began to lap at her clit like a hungry kitten. Katherine instantly came, but it was not the earth-shattering orgasm she expected. Instead, the feeling was dull and unrewarding. Kat cried again as the redhead licked faster. Almost instantly, Katherine felt another buildup. This time, she was headed for a tsunami. The crazed woman arched her back and scrunched her toes. She screamed, but no sound emerged from her throat as the buildup crashed like a wave on the rocks. A warm comfort swept through her body like a blanket in winter. Her swollen lips convulsed and seeped, drowning her in an ocean of decadent pleasure.

“Eva …” her voice creaked. Release came, but Mrs. Morello continued to lick, guiding Kat to another orgasm almost as glorious as the one before. Eva did not stop. She couldn’t stop without her master’s say. Another orgasm tore through Cassatt. Harsh whimpers begged for this new tournament to end.

Katherine knew from experience that Eva’s lips, tongue, and jaw were sore, and the woman still had a blowjob on her plate. But as Alex taunted his wife, he again underestimated the reporter. While Mrs. Morello pushed her face deeper Into Kat’s sex, the journalist saw an opportunity. She could close her legs and twist just enough to get their attention, but it would hurt Eva and enrage Alex further. Yes, she feared him, but she needed to reclaim power from her humiliating torture. Her legs closed only partially, ensuring her thighs did not touch Eva’s beautiful red curls. Then Katherine shut her eyes and rode through another orgasm or five. Both women were exhausted and sore and would feel it in the morning.

Cassatt couldn’t say when, but Eva’s lips left her drenched sex and pivoted toward her husband. The sound was unmistakable and forced Katherine to turn away. Still bound, she closed her eyes tight, trying to think of anything else, but her emotions swelled. Suddenly, Katherine was blubbering like a baby.

Fuck, how does she do that?! Her mouth wrapped around his erection, sucking him all the way down her throat without any effort. His orgasm was immediate as she worked him back to front, letting every drop of semen slide down her throat until none was left. Even then she only released him slowly, her cheeks puckered taut until his tip was free of her lips with the most subtle “pop.”

When her eyes rolled up, meeting his black eyes, he realized that he was in trouble. Eva had the best poker face he had ever seen, and only he knew how to see right through that ever calm exterior. It was the subtle change of how her eyelashes framed those big brown eyes. Her lips too, swollen as they were, were a clear giveaway, where her lower pressed outward with a near imperceptible pout. Alex even knew why she was angry. A promise broken, if only for all the right reasons.

Her gaze turned quickly, her full attention returning to Katherine, Eva pulling her into a full, if gentle embrace. As Alexander removed each rope, one at a time, it was Eva who rocked the sobbing woman; Eva who gently kissed the woman’s temple, and offered supportive, calming words in her ear. And, it was Eva who showed Katherine how to move her legs, slowly after being bound in place for an extended time.

Alexander did not need to look at his wife to know her face was covered in the other woman’s orgasms, where underneath it all the impressions of the gag slowly faded. Her porcelain skin was laced red from where he had bound her arms and legs, but even they would fade quickly. It was Katherine, however, that worried him. The way she cried… and yet how her body responded. The orgasms she accomplished…. Had he pushed her too far? Why did she not say stop? Her skin was nearly as pale as Eva, and so were the rope marks. He found himself unable to look either woman in the eyes. It was difficult to name his feelings at that moment, other than his sense of urgency to free Katherine from her bindings, and make her as comfortable as possible. Whatever that other feeling, the unpleasantness of it would be something to consider.

He left the ropes scattered on the living room floor, leaving the room just long enough to retrieve three silk kimono robes. The first was a deep, rich green, covered with embroidered blue flowers. With a tenderness he had yet to show Katherine, he slipped one arm, followed by the next into the sleeves, placing it securely around her shoulders. The white robe was for his wife, where he dressed her too, giving equal care and attention. The third robe, black as night he slipped on himself, along with a matching pair of sleep pants.

It was easy enough then to help both women off the floor. Both were clearly exhausted, their hormones slowly dropping after so much time under stress. In truth, though, only a couple hours had passed–if that–since they had all sat civilly around the dinner table, but time always seemed to stretch on forever when sex, and ropes combined.

Once Katherine and Eva were on the sofa, he took one particular rope off the floor. It was rope with a particular knot in a particular place–damp and heavy in his hand. Alex was prepared for the panic he would face as he turned back to the woman who had endured that rope. When she pulled away, he knelt in front of her, a gentle hush on his lips, but even then he was patient, giving her time to consider, and think about the gift he offered as he put the knotted rope into her hand, gently wrapping her fingers around the soft nylon.

“Sometimes,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “it helps to feel it from a new perspective. Remind yourself that it is just a thing that you can undo. Perhaps, remove the knot, focus on it as you make it go away.

“On your time, mio caro giornalista,” he said, standing again, “I will go and get fluids, and snacks. You will want to treat yourself after such pains and pleasures.”

It was Eva who spoke next. “And then you can go to bed if you wish, dear. I will stay with Katherine a little longer, and take care of her.”

“I really think I should-”

Eva shook her head. “No. You’ve done enough. Goodnight.”

Alex’s gaze lingered on his wife, his dark eyes challenging her ire. She should have known he planned to hesitate; they had talked about it. Eva understood his reasons, surely. Sighing, and rubbing the back of his head, he turned and headed for the kitchen.

It took very little time to prepare two bowls of fruits, greek yogurt, and fresh sliced bananas. He then poured two tall glasses of herbal iced tea–his own blend of chamomile, and raspberry leaf to both replenish fluids, and calm sore muscles. Setting everything on a platter he quietly set it on the table near Eva, who was still offering Katherine what comforts she could.

“Would you like me to-”

“I’ll take care of the ropes. Goodnight.” Her tone was light, but he knew better. She wanted him to go away, and so he did.

A few minutes later, if the women listened close enough, they would hear him cleaning the dinner table, and cleaning the kitchen.

Hands that had tormented and pleasured her quickly surrounded her, coming to her aid. The Morellos moved as a unit over Kat, one comforting her, the other untying her as swiftly and safely as he could. Deep in Cassatt’s mind, a fragment of her rescue in Afghanistan played out. Hands and comforting voices surrounded her. Even her sobs were similar. Weak and emotionally drained, Kat heard every word spoken. Eva was not happy. Alex seemed shocked. The journalist could not process his tone and couldn’t respond if she wanted.

Once on the sofa, she flinched at his presence, but she felt a tug at her arms only seconds later. More rope? No. A soft sleeve snaked up her arm and then the other. Eva sat beside her, dressed in white, still consoling Kat and curt with her husband. Something dropped into her hand. It was the knot. She heard Mr. Morello’s words and nodded along with him. The living room was still surreal to the reporter. He was gone again as Eva stroked and soothed her with kind, motherly words. When Morello returned with a bowl of fruit and tea, Katherine snatched the glass, chugging the drink. The liquid ran down her chin and neck. She ate the banana slices and fruit, ignoring anything she couldn’t eat by hand.

“I’m exhausted,” Cassatt finally mewed and rose from the sofa, only to fall on the floor again. The ropes that bound her sat dormant on the floor—just twine, nothing more. Moving back to the sofa, Kat felt Eva help her. Hands softly batted the redhead away. “I’m going to bed,” she said and hoisted herself up using the sofa. “Thank your husband for dinner.” Standing, the 36-year-old wobbled, touching a nearby chair for balance. “Goodnight, Eva,” she said without looking back and disappeared into the darkened hallway.

Locking the door behind her, Katherine fell into the bed. She neither changed for bed nor pulled the covers. She only cried until sleep took her.

Sore muscles made moving difficult as Kat climbed out of bed. She winced and stood on the floor, then her bare feet pattered toward the bath. Moving was more manageable after a hot shower. Once dressed and ready for the day, she found Elpida in the kitchen.

“Where can I get something extremely unhealthy for breakfast?” Katherine asked the confused girl. The maid only knew of one place within walking distance, roughly half a kilometer. After thanking the girl, Kat was off. She needed to leave that house and be away from the Morellos.

So much of what she had seen from the plane was brown and flat that Kat was surprised by the mountainous landscape and even more by the green in the village. Then, from a distance, she spotted a waterfall nestled in a patch of trees on the side of Mt. Olympus. The air was cooler than she expected, but it was early morning, and the sun was rising over the horizon.

The sore muscles in Katherine’s legs and arms were a reminder of the prior evening. The events had not left her mind since they happened. Was there a part of her that enjoyed it? She couldn’t answer that. Not yet. The scene unleashed too much trauma for her to evaluate the idea objectively. Was she raped? Not in the traditional sense, but a violation had occurred. A sexual assault would probably pass a DA, but she doubted anyone would investigate Mr. Morello. So what did happen last night, and why didn’t Cassatt hop on a plane and leave? The only rationale was Morello’s contacts and clients. She’d help arrest scores of criminals and maybe win another award. Then, perhaps, she and her father could mend fences.

From up the hill, Katherine spotted the blue diner. The size of a storage shed, she was assured they would indulge her in something decadent. Sure enough, Kat walked away with two large cinnamon buns and a coffee milkshake and took them to a nearby picnic table. The lamb from the night before was delicious, but this was a taste of home. The ravaged woman scoffed down both large cinnamon rolls and nearly half her shake before returning. No doubt the Morellos would be furious with her leaving unannounced, but Kat couldn’t seem to care.

Ditching the big cup at a nearby recycle bin, the reporter returned to the house. The walk up the hill was arduous, working her sore muscles. By the time she reached the pool, Kat was tired again. She stopped and removed her shoes, dunking her feet in the pool. The water was cool to the touch but comforting. Staring at her distorted reflection, Cassatt decided she would put the previous night her. There were more important issues to consider.

“Goddamnit,” Kat said to herself. “You had to jump into this whole Morello thing blind like you always do, and now look where that’s gotten you.” Cassatt hung her head, but she did not cry. Instead, she thought of the knotted rope and Alex’s words. She could overcome the thing that forced her to suffer with a simple gesture. She could overcome fear.

“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering,” Cassatt said, mimicking Yoda as she splashed her feet in the pool. When she looked up, she saw Alex from across the water. A quick burst of adrenaline shot through the reporter. Fear. The brunette took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Morning. I needed something American for breakfast. Elpida was kind enough to give me directions. I hope you don’t mind.”

“So,” Alex mused, strolling over to a nearby table where he set down a rather tall mug of coffee, and a bowl of Cheerios, “I see the force is strong with this one.”

He had a full spoon of cereal in his mouth before he had fully seated himself in the bistro chair. With a contented sigh, he slowly worked through several more spoonfuls, while gazing out toward the horizon, enjoying the view of lush greenery, and a scattering of homes, and communities. Though the ocean could not be seen from this vantage, he could sense it in the gentle breeze. Here, on this island the air always felt fresher. Cleaner. It was, by far, his favorite home; a place where he could live out the rest of his life, and be content with the simple things.

With an empty bowl, and a satisfied belly, Alexander Morello lounged back in his chair, propping his bare foot on another, and sipped his hot coffee. He looked down at the woman cooling her feet in the pool. Katherine was a formidable woman, indeed. For all the peace and opportunity he offered, she continued to treat him like the enemy. A kidnapper, and extortionist. Both things were true, of course… and she had every right to feel afraid, angry, tortured. God as his witness, he was a monster. He was everything she said he was, and for the life of him all he wanted to do was be better, to make amends to the world. Was his choice to bring this woman here by every means against gunpoint going to be the thing that saved him, or killed him?

He honestly did not know, but God help him, he was not sure he cared, as long as Eva was taken care of. At least he did that much right.

“You are not a prisoner,” Alex finally said quietly, sipping his coffee, “the cafe you speak of is quite nice. I will let Pavlina know you enjoyed her baking when I next see her. She is a very sweet lady, and loves to tell stories of her grandchildren. Perhaps you will get to meet her next time you visit.

“And, of course when you feel ready, there is much beauty on this island to experience. Perhaps when Eva wakes, the two of you would like to enjoy some time out together. It will be another day or two, though, before she is fully recovered from traveling.”

He did not ask her about last night. At least, not yet. Alex wanted to. If she felt harmed by the games played last night… better to know. And suddenly he was more than a monster, he turned coward too. Shame masked by another sip of coffee. “I also know that she worried for you last night. She is a sound sleeper, but likes to wake in the arms of those she loves.”

Katherine splashed her feet in the pool, laughing as Morello spoke of the force. There was a comfort in the fact that Alex knew of Star Wars. But, of course, he did. There was hardly a spot on the planet that didn’t know about the film series. Yet, there was something alien about Mr. Morello, as if he were unknowable. Yet, his mystery was purposeful, a screen to hide behind when needed—a shield to protect his wife. But there he was, quoting Yoda and eating Cheerios like a little kid.

The sugar and caffeine gave the reporter the sense of normalcy she craved, even though she could fall in love with the surroundings. The air was cool but crisp, and the fragrance was clean except for Eva’s flowers which were starting to bloom. She could have closed her eyes and enjoyed the calm had Morello not spoken.

“You are not a prisoner ….”

A sound of reassurance touched his voice while Kat listened to Alex speak of the café, the island, and his wife. It was curious how the arms dealer steered the journalist in Eva’s direction. To most men, Kat’s infatuation with Eva would spark jealousy, if not fantasies of a threesome. Instead, Morello treated his spouse as an incentive. Perhaps for Katherine, Eva was a gift for the journalist’s assistance. Or maybe Mrs. Morello was a carrot and a stick.

Standing, Kat moved to the table where Alex sat. Her bare feet made wet tracks toward the chair where she sat, finally facing Morello after the prior evening. She placed an elbow on the table; her chin rested in her palm. “I’m not a prisoner? Does that mean I can go home without repercussions?” Kat looked deep into his black eyes. “Lie to yourself if you like, but not to me. Last night, you made it clear who I am to you.” The woman’s jaw clenched as she stood from the table. She wanted to flip the table over and drown Morello in his pool. Taking a long, slow breath and counting internally, Katherine recomposed herself. She needed to be seen as a professional and address Alex in kind.

“I apologize if my comments upset you last night, but if you are willing to look past my indiscretions, I will look past yours, and we won’t speak of it again. Instead, we will move forward as partners in your endeavor.” She returned to the pool, picked up her shoes, and headed for the house. “I will take your advice and quietly check on Eva. Once she and I return this afternoon, you and I will discuss a proper strategy for distributing your information. Please have documentation available.”

Once in the house, Cassatt steadied herself on the counter, letting out a shaky breath. A plan for Morello’s intel had already taken root, but Kat needed to check on Eva first. In her room, the woman took a quick shower and changed into a peach-colored teddy that accented her curves. Carefully, she went to Eva’s bedroom, ensuring Alex was not around before she knocked on the door. There was no answer, so Cassatt slipped into Eva’s private domain. There she saw the red-maned angel, asleep, looking as innocent as a little girl. For a moment, Kat considered snaking under the covers to lightly kiss her legs all the way up to her lips. No. The woman needed rest. Instead, Katherine gingerly slipped between the covers and nestled beside Eva, holding her.

Spring, 2006 Peters Residence, Great Falls, VA

Her stomach growls, and content with an evening well spent, she closes her math book, and associated notebook. With care, she slips it into her backpack, and pads lightly on bare feet down to the kitchen; perhaps a banana and glass of milk before bed?

She hears water running, as she opens the refrigerator. Mrs. Delgado is finishing her work for the night; always prompt and efficient.

“Oh no you don’t Eva Grace!” She commands over the running water. “You sit at the counter, dear.”

Eva hates and loves being called by her middle name. Mrs. Delgado is always kind to her–takes care of her. Eva doesn’t mind so much when she says it. Dutifully, she sits at the counter, folding her hands gently in her lap as mother always insists.

“Is your homework done, young lady?” Her accent is thick, and her voice carries through the large kitchen. For a lady of four feet, twelve inches, in the right circumstances she can act and sound like a giant. Eva loves the family’s cook, and nanny.

“Yes, ma’am,” Eva says.

“Did you practice your latin too?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you know you have tennis practice at 6am?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Delgado shuts off the water and dries her hands with the towel hanging from a bar under the sink.

“That’s my girl,” she says stepping over to another space on the counter where a platter sits covered. With the unknown food in hand, she turns back to Eva, and reveals a single cupcake on the platter, with a single candle placed neatly in the center. With a grand smile, the kind older lady begins to sing.

“Happy birthday to you…” She sets the cupcake in front of Eva, and the girl beams ear-to-ear, while her nanny sings and lights the candle, and then stands next to the girl of only twelve years old wrapping the girl into a warm embrace.

“Happy birthday, dear Eva…”

New voices carry over the woman’s singing. A man and woman. Mother and father. Their voices grow louder, and Eva’s smile fades. Are they going to surprise her too? She looks over to see her parents walking from the foyer toward the kitchen. Both are dressed in fine clothes, returning from a gala… or was it a state dinner? Eva always struggles to keep track. Both parents look at her, sitting there, cupcake and candle. Father offers her a small smile, but mother crosses her arms, and frowns.

“What are you-” Mother’s tone is severe.

Father starts to interject, but his phone rings. He chooses to answer the phone instead. It’s work. Always work. “Yeah. No. We need to set a meeting with Barrett, and get the senate committee to–” he covers his hand over the receiver and looks at his wife. “Go easy on her, dear. I have to take this. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He walks back down the hall toward his office. Eva knows that a minute usually means several hours. She lowers her gaze, unable to meet mother’s darkening expression. Better to be silent now.

“What is all this?” Mrs. Peters looks at the nanny, then to Eva. “You know you have a match this weekend, and you’re three pounds overweight. You can’t eat that! Besides, it’s a school night and you have studying to do!”

“Now, Mrs. Peters, be reason-” Mrs. Delgado is not afraid of mother; not afraid to stand up to the woman. Eva trembles, knowing sooner or later she too will be fired for it.

“Not another word! I’ll deal with you in a minute!” Eva’s mother’s face begins to turn red, as she glares at Eva.

“Mother, please,” Eva begs, “it’s my-ah! No, mother, please stop!”

Mother’s perfectly manicured fingers wrap around the girl’s ear, as she twists and tugs her out of the stool. “Now, go upstairs and have your homework out and ready to be checked. If it’s not perfect you will do it again! Am I clear?!”

“Ow!” Eva’s ear feels like it will be ripped from her head. “Yes, mother! It’s clear!”

Mother releases her ear. Eva knows better than to try and soothe the aching ear, and instead hurries to her room to do as she was bid. She knows better than to cry as she hears her small birthday gift being tossed into the garbage, candle and all.

[hr][/hr]

It was rare for her to wake up feeling such terror anymore. For just a second, she was sure she was once again buried underneath rubble and remnants; trapped in the dark, unable to move or cry out. But, as Eva became aware of long delicate arms around her, and only a few hints of daylight slipping through the folds of heavy drapes, she could suddenly feel her arms and legs again, the tension she held in her shoulders dissipated..

Her confusion too, was fleeting as she tested her fingers along the forearms that held her so tenderly. A woman’s embrace, a woman’s body holding her gently and snugly. Katherine.

Smiling, Eva turned over in bed, finding herself staring into endless blue eyes. With fingers tracing along the side of the other woman’s face, she leaned forward pressing her lips against Katherine’s–a long, and deep good-morning kiss.

When the kiss finally ended Eva was nearly breathless, her hands caressing the other woman’s bare flesh, unable to help herself. “I worried about you last night,” she finally said, “you left so suddenly. Are you okay? Did we… I mean… was it…if we… that is, if you didn’t… we’ll never…”

Eva sighed, silently chastising herself for being an inarticulate fool.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, turning her gaze downward. “If we hurt you, I’m sorry.”

There was little Katherine enjoyed more than lying in bed with another woman. Whether sex was involved, she loved the little comforts of a touch or a cuddle. Morning conversation was equally satisfying, most of the time. Her arms wrapped around Eva, and Kat smiled like the sun. She could live the rest of her days with this woman, thriving in her brilliant heart and surrendering to her shadowy soul. The things she would allow Eva to do to her …

Katherine cupped the hand that touched her face, her blue eyes alive with desire. Then they kissed—two women, barely clothed, with no makeup and no pretenses. Within that kiss, there was no fault or judgment. The night before didn’t even exist at that moment. Katherine held Eva close, letting her hand glide down the redhead’s curved hips. But the kiss broke, and Eva spoke. Last night hurt her too. Cassatt did not answer with words. Instead, she took the woman in her arms, rolled, and straddled her. Wetting her lips, Kat leaned close to Eva’s ear. “You did not hurt me. You, I would let – I would be your slave.” Her tongue traced Mrs. Morello’s ear until she found the lobe, allowing her lips to suckle on the soft cartilage. “For you, Eva Morello … my mistress, I would endure days of torture and name it my religion.” Kat’s lips kissed the woman’s neck as her hands softly caressed her arms. Her body pressed against the red-maned angel, Cassatt tore off Eva’s nightgown with her teeth. “I would do all this and more for you.”

Kat tore the rest of Eva’s gown, tossing shredded bits aside like a playful kitten. The fingers of her right hand found the woman’s thighs, fluttering the digits near her sex. Her lips bit into Eva’s nipple and pulled, sprouting a grin on her face. She could end it there. Force Eva to suffer the way she suffered, but no. Kat meant every word of her declaration. Kissing the woman’s body, Kat’s mouth softly trailed down Eva’s stomach, then to her thighs, where she lapped the woman’s fresh wetness, taunting her again.

Delicate lips touched Eva’s sex as a hot tongue toyed with the fragile pink flesh. Kat spread Mrs. Morello’s legs apart and pressed her face into the woman’s drenched lady bits. Her nose, mouth, and chin ground into the woman’s sex. Her fingers slid up and down Eva’s white thighs. The smacking and lapping sounds filled the darkened room. Pulling back, Kat softly ran a finger through the needy woman’s folds before penetrating her. With the eyes of a hungry cat, Cassatt sucked the woman’s clit, pumping her fingers deeper and deeper, fucking Eva to her body’s rhythm. Her trimmed, nailed forefinger gently rubbed the g-spot. Katherine was determined to have Eva cum hard and feel every wave of pleasure all over her body. Katherine pumped the woman, her lips sucking the sensitive pink nub, and intertwined her fingers with Eva’s. She was close. “I am yours,” Cassatt whispered. She returned to Eva’s sex, taunting her briefly before driving the woman over the edge.

After Eva’s morning orgasm, Ms. Cassatt dragged her flat tongue on the woman’s sex, savoring every taste. Finally, Kat dipped her fingers into Mrs. Morello’s pussy and smeared the fluids over Eva’s lips. Katherine kissed the woman beneath her, tasting her, bruising both their lips. Smiling, nose to nose with Eva, Kat slid off to the other side of the bed.

“You did not hurt me, Eva, but your husband did,” the journalist said and rose to her feet, walking toward the door. “Alex said I could go out with you today and enjoy the island. I would like that, just you and me. I also have some ideas I want to run by you.”

Katherine gave her lover a cute wave before opening the bedroom door. “Let me know you’ve had breakfast and are ready to explore more.”

Eva stared at the rhythmic turn of the overhead fan, still naked and alone in bed. She wasn’t going to cry, and yet it was several minutes before her mind’s eye could push away the visions of the woman who raised her. Katherine could not have known the trigger; it was not her fault. And yet, from the minute the woman had touched her ear, Eva was no longer in the room, her body only distantly hearing the woman’s promise to be her willing slave for all eternity. Even as Katherine masterfully brought her body to orgasm, despite her sex still being raw from the night before, it was only her body present in the bedroom; her spirit ripped away into a history she wanted only to forget. She was no longer a confident, or powerful woman; nor was she the wife of the most efficient arms dealer in the world. She was a girl again–no–she was a thing, an unwanted thing that could never meet impossible expectations.

Alex usually knew how to pull her from those dark, horrible memories. He wasn’t there this time, and he knew better than to disturb her today. Her anger toward him was still palpable; strong enough that she never joined him in bed after the night’s session. Not that she would have slept anyway. Instead she burned the midnight oil, quietly cleaning up the room, and taking a long midnight swim in the pool, grateful for cool air and water that would soothe the welts gifted to her by the ropes.

“My name is Eva Grace Morello,” she told the overhead fan, “you spend your husband’s money to help people in need. You are beautiful, capable, and strong. She is thousands of miles away, and can no longer harm you.”

She repeated the mantra three times. Words carefully chosen with the help of her therapist years ago. Each time she said it, she felt better. Calmer. Herself.

It was enough to get her going for the day.

Eva did not need much time to make herself ready, although by the time she had helped herself to a light brunch of cottage cheese and blueberries, and dressed, it was well after noon. Sighing, she found hope that perhaps tonight she would finally sleep properly. Jet lag was never fun.

With Elpida’s help, Eva packed a light, but filling picnic, and Iason drove them out toward the western coast of the island. Eva was quiet for the length of the drive, but she found contentment in spending the day with Katherine Cassatt. Today there would be no more tension, or fear. Just two girls, bonding. Romancing. A new love emerging.

Lara Beach was among the most quiet beaches on Cyprus Island. Most visitors would take their off road vehicles to the white sands, but Eva knew a path or two leading towards the lesser known areas of the beach, and Katherine seemed willing to take the walk. Eva promised that it would be worth it.

Her bright and colorful cover-up, with a long plunging neckline billowed freely in the light, salty air, as she traipsed closer to the beach. It was a path she had taken hundreds of times, or might as well have, and she took each step in thin, lace-up sandals as surely as if she wore combat boots. The travel pack she had shrugged on her shoulders, perhaps diminished the look, but with Katherine as her guest–or rather date?–she insisted on carrying the bulk of the beach gear. It was the least she could do.

“Iason will never be far away,” Eva explained, as she carefully picked her footing across the rocks between patches of brush, “if Alex is not with us, then Iason will be.”

She did not say that Iason was more than their driver, but also their protection should one of her husband’s professional rivals decide to visit. The precaution always felt unnecessary, especially on Cyprus, but Eva knew it gave her husband comfort. That was enough reason for her.

Eva stopped at the edge of the beach, looking out as the Mediterranean wooshed up against the near-white sands over and over again. With Katherine besides her, she took the woman’s hand into her own, lacing their fingers together. “We’ll be alone here,” Eva said quietly, “not many people are willing to walk over this far from the main area.

“Sunset is not for several hours, but here we should have a great view. And if we’re very lucky, we might spy a young mother or two waddling about to lay eggs.”

Young mother. Eva sighed unhappily, dropping her gaze briefly. What was wrong with her today?

“Come,” Eva said, leading the other woman to a nice spot. Together, they set out a large blanket they could share, and use their beach towels as pillows. After taking turns to lather each other with powerful sunscreen, they stretched themselves out side-by-side, hand-in-hand. She had removed her cover up, leaving her skin barely covered in a simple black string bikini. It was not long before she removed her bikini top as well, letting her full, round breasts enjoy the sunlight.

“You said you had ideas,” Eva pulled her sun hat further over her eyes against the bright rays.

Once Katherine closed the door, she hoped her new lover would find time to rest. Eva looked worn and needed sleep. If they missed their afternoon outing, there was always tomorrow. In her passionate fervor, Kat had neglected to ask how Eva faired. The sound of Alex’s riding crop as it struck Eva’s white ass reran through Kat’s mind. Each time she heard a sharp, loud noise, Cassatt was on the carpet again, bound and helpless, watching Eva endure the lashing. She would ask the woman about her whelps later.

Starting down the stairs, Kat thought to speak to Alexander again, but she didn’t want another confrontation. Cassatt needed a positive vibe for her outing with Eva and disappeared into her room to work and think. But, as she told Eva, Katherine had ideas, and to test one, she logged on to a secure VPN and sent a selfie to her father. There was no incriminating information about her whereabouts or activities, only a silly selfie with the tagline, “Wish you were here. lol.” The objective was to test Alex’s hackers, and Cassatt fully expected her stealthy shenanigans to come to the surface. If not, her plans would be in jeopardy.

Katherine enjoyed the landscape along the silent ride to the beach, although she worried for Eva. Did she say something wrong? Was the redhead still angry will her husband? Kat hoped whatever bothered Eva would surface in time. Wearing a kaleidoscope sarong with a black bikini, Katherine traversed the rocky pathway to Eva’s secret hideaway beach. No stranger to rugged terrain, nevertheless, Kat copied Eva’s movements, hiking in comfortable sneakers. To her eyes, the two women were all alone for the entirety of the day. With only a small tote containing her phone, it would serve as a stash for her shoes and wrap.

Memories of their first meeting spun through the journalist’s mind. Bound to the rocking chair, she never suspected the two women would become so close. Standing beside Eva as she spread the blanket across the beach made Katherine’s heart beat faster. It had been so long since she felt this way, giddy, goofy, falling in love.

Once both women were safe from the sun, Kat watched Eva remove her top. Younger than Katherine by seven years, Eva’s breasts were magnificent. Round, soft, but firm with a pink tone to her nipples and areola. Katherine could kiss and fondle those tits for days. If only the day could last forever, but Kat had business.

“Yes, I have a few ideas,” Kat said, gathering a handful of suntan lotion. “You missed a couple of spots,” she joked. “Let’s see if I can do this and retain my concentration.” Rubbing the lotion in her hands to warm up the concoction, Kat then spread her palms around Eva’s breasts, circling each one. “We don’t want you to get sunburned; speaking of which, how is your lovely ass?” A smile cropped up on Cassatt’s face, ensuring Eva it was okay to talk about last night. They had endured it together, like POWs in a war.

“I apologized to Alex about my comments during dinner and hoped we could press forward with a common goal.” Kat concentrated on Eva’s other breast, covering the mound of white flesh with the oil. Nearly imperceptible, tiny blue veins highlighted the woman’s flesh, and when she was done, Cassatt kissed up and down each light blue line. “I did lose my train of thought, didn’t I?” she joked and tickled Eva a little before kissing her. “Anyway,” she began, her finger circling the younger woman’s nipple, “I want to write a book detailing my time with you and Alex. I can change the names and a few details to calm any fears you both may have, or I can tell the truth via gonzo journalism.” Kat explained the unique method of journalism as a cultural commentary in which the reporter played the lead role. “As you and I are involved, my objectivity will be questioned. I do not doubt the authorities will consider me an accomplice rather than an unwilling participant. And they would be right.” Katherine took the woman in her arms, kissing her on the jaw, then whispering. “I want to know what you think, Eva. Not Alex. You.”

Katherine pulled away, removing her bikini top and stowing it in the tote bag. The wind blew through her brunette locks. Eva had much to think about, but Kat would give her time. “There’s no need to answer me now, and Alex and I have much to discuss later.” Her smile returned with Cassatt crawling on all fours toward the sultry redhead. “About what I said this morning,” the woman whispered, hovering close to Eva’s own pouting lips. “I meant every word.”

September 2013, Yale University

A phone buzzes on a dark bathroom counter. A face, translucent under severe fluorescent lights, watches itself in the mirror as pure white powder disappears through one nostril, and then the other. The bleeding lasts only a few seconds and is quickly wiped away with a paper towel.

A hand tipped with black nail lacquer picks up the phone when it buzzes and dances on the counter. Long tendrils of fire-red hair are flipped back over a very bare shoulder, and phone placed to an ear sporting sparkling hoop earrings.. “Hello, mother.”

“Hi darling,” the voice replied, “I wanted to remind you of the strategy dinner tomorrow. You are going to be introduced as your uncle’s newest campaign intern for his reelection to the senate. I wanted to make sure you got the outfit I sent you. I will have Marcus waiting outside your dorm precisely at 3pm. Also, make sure to email your economics professor, and get assignments and lecture notes ahead of time. You will be missing his class tomorrow. And did you study for your calculous exam?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Good. I didn’t put in all that effort for you to get into college early for you to fail now,” the voice replied, “see you tomorrow.”

The phone goes back into a small clutch purse.

Hollow brown eyes reflect back at the figure. Cheeks turn flush, and those eyes close and open again. There’s a smile, framed by shimmering cherry lip gloss in the mirror. There. That’s better. Feeling better now. Bursting with life.

The figure in the mirror makes a few quick adjustments to the thin, knotted slips of fabric that pass for a halter dress. Fingers make sure the lace and metal collar is neither too tight, nor too loose, and with a quick fix to a gauzy wrist warmer. There.

Without another glance at that horrid things in the mirror, the figure steps out of the bathroom, and into the dark rhythms and dim lights of the club. It was the perfect locale to abandon anything resembling thought, or feeling.

[hr][/hr]

Blue eyes filled Eva’s vision, her body prone underneath her reporter lover. The first touch of their lips, a caress of silk. Warmth came next, followed by need. Tongue sought tongue, teeth sought bottom lips. Someone moaned, and hands found breasts. Shoulders. Fingers interlacing.

I meant every word.

Good. She hooked her legs around, and with simple force and motion rolled the woman onto her back. Now Eva was on top, straddling her while pinning her hands on either side of her face. It should have been erotic: sun, sea, seclusion. Eva shivered. The hairs on her arms stood rigid, and her nipples hardened. A cold seeped up from within her soul, and as she looked into Katherine’s bright eyes, ready–begging–for pleasure.

Instead, Eva leaned back, releasing her grip. Rubbing her upper arms, she nestled herself back, practically sitting on Katherine’s legs. “Just… listen. Don’t touch me, or interrupt. I can’t tell you everything. Alex deserves, no, needs to be here for some things.”

Frowning. Ashamed. She could no longer look into those utterly perfect blue eyes. She let her body slide off the other woman; her woman. Automatically, she reached over toward her pull-over, but then she stopped and looked at it, her eyes not really seeing the fine pile of cloth. Why should she cover up? She was about to bare her soul, what she did or did not wear suddenly didn’t seem important.

She put the object down, and simply leaned back to soak up the rays.

“The woman who gave birth to me, abused me.” Okay, that was the hardest part. Truth. History. Pain. Now to just keep talking. “Most of it wasn’t physical, but she controlled every part of me. She was cruel. Commanding. She tormented me. She was threatened by me because her husband, the man who was my father, loved me. He was always too busy with work. He never stopped her. And, when she realized couldn’t get rid of me, she decided to turn me into a…not sure there’s a word for it. I was just a thing. An instrument to further the family’s political intrigues.

“When I was thirteen, old enough, she started forcing me to take Ritalin. So I could study harder, take AP classes. I graduated high school with honors at 17, and then she shipped me off to Ivy League. Even there, she used the family’s power and influence to stay in control. She bribed registrars, advisors, you name it, she did anything and everything to keep me on her track. By the time I was in my third year, I had traded out Ritalin for Cocaine.

“I don’t have a lot of memories from those days, but by some miracle managed to graduate with degrees in business and accounting. She might have falsified my transcripts, not really sure. Doesn’t matter, I guess, it was everything she could have wanted. That summer I was to join the family on the reelection campaign. At some point, though, I did work at an auction hosted by… I don’t even remember where. It’s where Alex and I first met.”

Eva smiled, and finally the cold started to leave her body. “There isn’t a word to describe how I felt when we first looked at each other. It just fit. After a few months of dating, when I refused to dump him, my family disowned me, and Alex convinced me to go to rehab. I managed to stay clean for about a year and a half. But, I relapsed. Twice. We were engaged after my second relapse, and I’ll always remember the night he left me. Before he walked out he gave me a choice: I could use his engagement ring to pay for rehab and get clean for good, or I could use it to buy more drugs.” She mimicked his deep, accented burr. “‘But, I will not stay here and watch the most beautiful soul keep hurting herself.’”

“Life didn’t work without him, so I got clean. And he was there, waiting for me when I graduated. We married a year later, and I’ve been clean for six years, eleven months, three days. We love each other very much, even with our respective baggage. He is a criminal, and he has a temper, but he is a good man. And me? I’m just the broken… addict, and still terrified of her.

“But, here’s why I’m telling you all of this now, well there’s two reasons.” Eva turned her gaze to the woman, those blue eyes cool, ever watchful. Leaning forward, she crossed her legs, and took the woman’s hand into her own, bringing the knuckles to her lips for a reassuring kiss. “First of all, my ass is fine. Thank you for asking, but bruises or no bruises, it doesn’t matter to me.” Eva took that woman’s hand and placed it over a small welt on the inside of her thigh, holding there, tenderly. “What matters is that I enjoyed it. Pain, fear, control. I need those things in my bedroom. It excites me, and it gets me off.

“My therapist says that lots of people enjoy such things, and a lot of them weren’t abused like I was. But, she and I worked on it, and she says that given what those… people did to me growing up, it, I don’t know how to say it, it’s just the thing I need, I guess? As long as it stays safe, sane, and consensual, it doesn’t have to be wrong. I always feel safest when Alex dominates me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t let him do.” Eva frowned, looking downward knowing that she broke at least one of those covenants with Katherine. It was wrong, even more so as she professed her commitment, and her love. “And, if it’s not crazy obvious, I really enjoy dominating women. And, I just thought it might be a good idea if you knew me better. I’ve never found myself falling in love with a woman, let alone one I started dominating from minute one. You are such a powerful woman, smart, better than all of us. I’m not, I mean, I don’t deserve you. I guess I just want to be sure that you’re really okay with it. That you’re choosing it freely.

Eva sighed, keeping her hand over Katherine’s. “The other thing you need to know, about your plan. I promised Alex I’d let you two hash out most of the details. This whole thing is a big mess. I don’t even know where to begin to help. He didn’t want me to tell you yet, but whatever, you need to know. Whatever stories you write, if you use my maiden name it could, maybe, get complicated. My uncle is Senator Peters. The man who is my father is a political mastermind. Not sure if that would be an obstacle or not.

“Are you hungry?” Eva didn’t know why she felt so self conscious, nervous; not entirely sure how to stop talking. “Maybe go into the water?”

As promised, Katherine said nothing, nor did she move as Eva told her life’s story. The journalist had interviewed enough people to know there was never one side to life. Everyone was multifaceted. Criminals could be good men, and saints often fell from their pedestals. The observer fashioned their reality, usually without exact information. Kat judged Eva during their first meeting because, as she saw it, one fact outweighed everything else. Alex Morello was a mass murderer or at least complicit in the acts. Perhaps Alexander felt the same way after dinner, so Kat had to be punished. But what mattered, at that moment, on the beach, was that Eva had borne her soul to Kat. All sights and sounds disappeared. Katherine’s blue eyes begged forgiveness for her earlier prejudice. She was a journalist and should have known better.

“I could eat,” Kat answered. “Or we could go for a swim, or I could just lay here and look at you.” Her hand caressed a silken cheek. Kat’s first reaction was that of pity, which Eva neither wanted nor desired. “A child should receive nothing but love from those in their care. Anything else is criminal.” Arms pulled Eva into a deep kiss, communicating in actions what Kat could not say in words. “Thank you for your trust, Eva. It’s a rare gift, and I will treasure your love and respect.” Kat needed to reciprocate, but she could wait. The day was meant for other things. Standing, Katherine extended her hands to the other woman, pulling her up. “We can go for a short swim if you like.”

Hand in hand, the women jogged to the surf and waded into the water. Katherine covered herself, shivering from the sudden chill that quickly faded. “I recall a friend, and I went to a nude beach in Spain. I was very nervous,” Cassatt said, the water up to her knees. “It took me thirty minutes to get ready, but within an hour, I was comfortable.” With a mischievous grin, Kat removed her bikini bottoms and tossed them onto the beach, safe from the water. “To be honest, it got boring after a while. So I guess I’m not a nudist.” She shrugged and held onto Eva as a wave broke over their bodies, the water pushing them further to shore. The tide tugged at their legs, beckoning both back into the sea. “But I don’t feel awkward here.” Another wave crashed over them; the saltwater mingled with their kiss. Wet bodies pressed together, touching the other, craving more. Then, much larger than the others, a third wave pounded into both women, pushing them into the shallow water. Kat laughed, holding on to Eva while the waves tumbled over them.

“Come on,” Katherine said, taking Eva by the hand. “Let’s show this bitch who we are.” The bitch was the ocean, a goddess no one could hope to conquer. But, of course, some could momentarily hold their own against such a formidable beast. Fingers intertwined, the two skipped toward the horizon, pearls of foam and water splashed in every direction. Kat turned her back along with Eva when another wave pummeled over them. But this time, they stood their ground and began to swim toward the deep. Katherine stopped when ten to twelve feet separated the women from the bottom of the ocean.

“Your man can probably still see us,” remarked Kat as she treaded water beside her new lover.

“The Ocean has its silent caves,

Deep, quiet, and alone;

Though there be fury on the waves,

Beneath them there is none.

The awful spirits of the deep

Hold their communion there;

And there are those for whom we weep,

The young, the bright, the fair.

Calmly the wearied seamen rest

Beneath their own blue sea.

The ocean solitudes are blest,

For there is purity.

The earth has guilt, the earth has care,

Unquiet are its graves;

But peaceful sleep is ever there,

Beneath the dark blue waves.”

A silence as calm as the still waters passed between them before Kat spoke again. “That is my father’s favorite poem. He loves the sea as my mother loves the stars.” Kat looked up at the sky and the visible half-moon, more prominent than usual. Her gaze turned to the horizon and, finally, back to Eva. “I take comfort in both as I am irrelevant in their majesty. My problems are nothing compared to the life and death struggle out there,” Cassatt spoke, looking back to the ocean. She swam back to the red-headed woman, taking her hands. “I accept you as you are, Eva, and I want to give myself to you.” As the two kissed again, Katherine made a decision that would affect their bizarre trio. She would keep it a secret until the time was right and hoped Eva would forgive her. “Let’s go back. Now, I’m starving.”

Eva was a capable woman in many things; cooking was not one of them. And, according to her dear husband, she the only being in existence who ever managed to burn cold cereal. Though Katherine did not know it yet, today’s feast of simple meats, cheeses, crackers, and fruit was one of Eva’s greatest kitchen successes… with Elpida’s expert help, of course.

The ladies shared a bottle of a simple red wine while they ate, talked, and ate some more. Eva apologized for such a light meal, having observed Katherine’s very healthy appetite, and promised to take her shopping tomorrow to stock the kitchen with as many preferred items as possible. They would have anything else she wanted, imported. Tomorrow would be another normal day.

Normal. Eva sipped from her glass, gazing at her lover. She and Alex had shared their bed with other women before; many times in fact, but Katherine was singularly different. The space she found in her heart for this woman was uncanny. No. Miraculous. Nigh impossible. How could one person find love for two others so completely? So quickly? There was so much more to learn about Katherine, so many things Eva hadn’t yet bothered to ask. So wrapped up in everything else, Eva never even thought to consider the other woman, her feelings, or even learn about her life.

Frowning, Eva hid her guilt through another sip of the wine, and through a smile and very little coaxing, gave Katherine leave to sprawl out, against her, head in lap. There, the ladies conversed about trivial things, as all new couples might, while Eva demonstrated her affection by feeding her morsels of fruits, as if they lived in some cliche greek fantasy.

They shared about their favorite music songs, books, and more. Eva had no fondness for poetry, but encouraged Katherine to speak more of it. Though not a big reader since college, she had a love for historical romance novels, and when she had the desire could sometimes be found reading while listening to her favorite classical composers: Debussy, and Chopin. She had not been allowed to listen to any music other than classical as a child. As a grown up, and Alex’s influence, she found a love for the band Coldplay.

For so long, it might have been forever, Eva just held the other woman in her arms, fingers dragging peacefully along her temples, cheeks. Even when Katherine closed her eyes, Eva could see the endless depths of those blue eyes. But the longer they were there the more details she picked out. Distinctive nose–kissable. Lips that were neither too thin, nor too pouty, and cheekbones that were nothing short of stunning. And freckles. Cute, adorable freckles.

“Turn over, dear,” she said, giving her woman an impish grin. “Just relax.”

Eva straddled herself over the woman’s buccocks, and with her hands, started along the spine, stroking firmly upward, massaging the muscles and releasing tension. Slowly, and with intent, she moved her hands, rubbing, and kneading every major muscle group. After last night, she was all too familiar with the soreness that came from so many ropes: strict bondage and the torments of unrequited orgasms.

“Try not to put him on the defensive.” Eva was more gentle as she ran her thumbs purposefully up her neck, putting just the right amount of pressure at those two magical spots at the base of her skull. Without lingering there too long, she started working her way back down to the shoulders. “If you push him, he’s just going to dig in and become even more enigmatic. I don’t know, maybe just let him run point for a while?”

When she felt Katherine’s muscles tense, Eva backed off, slightly. “Shhh, relax.” She resumed the massage when she felt the tension leave the other woman. “I am really sorry you were hurt last night. I honestly thought you were okay. If you said stop, I am so, so sorry I didn’t hear it. It might be wise to devise a stronger safe word, and do as you said on the plane and establish boundaries. And if you would prefer that only you and I make love, then I will make sure that Alex knows. He will respect your wishes.”

Eva leaned forward, replacing her hands with her lips. A kiss on her shoulder, and lips and tongue slowly tracing down, over her shoulder blade, and then to her spine. Crawling backward on her knees, her kisses traced lower, and lower down the woman’s back. “I am your domme, and you are my submissive, but only when we play. You will know when play starts, and when it ends. At all other times we are partners. Equals.” Eva kissed one cheek, followed by the other. Without words, she encouraged Katherine to raise her hips, brace herself on her knees, putting that pure, and perfect behind into the air. “If you are too sore, simply tell me, and I will stop. If we are too public, tell me; we will retire to somewhere more private. You are my submissive, but you have a choice. Your desires are my desires. I am in control of you, but you still hold all the power.

“I will always respect you, and do only things I know you will enjoy; just as I know when I tell you to never touch my ears that you too will respect those wishes.”

Gently, Eva spread the woman’s cheeks, and leaned in close. Slipping her tongue between the woman’s folds, she could already tell that Katherine was more than ready for attention. Her clit was warm, slightly salty, and wet from more than just the ocean. Eva moaned, and flicked her tongue on that deliciously sweet spot again. “But, for now, I want you to describe for me, in detail, exactly how you feel when I pleasure your sex. Tell me, exactly what you desire. Exactly what you need. And, most importantly,” she slipped her tongue along her sex once again, “I will not stop until you beg me to do so.”

A relaxing day with Eva was the balm Katherine needed from the memories of the night before. As a lazy sun moved through the sky, the girls spoke of trivial matters that revealed more than they had planned. Katherine was an avid reader but mainly stuck to non-fiction, magazine articles, and the occasional peer-reviewed webpage due to her profession. As a hobby, she collected lesbian pulp novels from the 1950s and 1960s. “Most are poorly written, and the cover art is usually laughable, but they remind me how far society has come. The lesbian always dies at the end, and the innocent woman she defiled dies or returns to her man.” Her sexuality was a touchy topic, as many in her extended family did not approve. “We’re supposed to have royal blood in our veins from somewhere, so I was the black sheep until I won the Pulitzer.” Kat laughed.

Music was another stable in her life, and like Eva, she was accustomed to classical – Mozart, Beethoven, and Chopin. Kat would often sneak off with her father to the pub and listen to the jukebox while the Admiral enjoyed his lager beer. The establishment hadn’t changed the music since 1987; most 45s were from the 1960s. Motown was a particular favorite of Cassatt’s. “I like classical, but the first time I heard Aretha Franklin, music came alive for me. Her voice had so much soul and passion that I couldn’t help but dance.”

Small moments spent with Eva were a gift for Katherine. Unfortunately, her job rarely allowed the journalist to slow down and enjoy another’s company for fun. But suddenly, the quiet enjoyment ended, and something else took place. Eva’s hands upon Cassatt’s skin were both comforting and exciting. She could have drifted to sleep under her expert massage, but peace was interrupted with a warning. Kat didn’t make a sound when Eva mentioned her husband; her tense muscles conveyed her feelings. Kind, gentle words pierced Katherine’s ears. “Spare his ego?” Kat chuckled. “That’s the story of my professional life.” She nodded while Eva kneaded her shoulders, and it was a good call. Not to spare Morello’s ego but so they could arrive on the same page. She’d let Alex set the stage and reveal his plans and ideas before forging ahead.

“Redrum,” Kat replied to Eva’s apology and the suggestion that they find a better safe word. “It’s from my favorite scary movie. However, I love the sequel too. The villain is hot.” Katherine smiled and lay her head on a pillow, holding the down cushion between her arms. Gears changed. Eva spoke confidently, and a chill ran through Kat as Morello’s words speared the journalist in the heart.

“I am your domme ….”

Her lips trembled, and she listened to Eva speak. The mistress guided her, and Kat obeyed without comment. With her backside up and pointed to Eva, Cassatt wondered if she would receive discipline. But, instead, Kat felt her lover fondle her sex. Closing her eyes, the brunette savored the pleasure of her lover’s tongue. Eva had guided her to this point with words of power and respect.

“Don’t touch my ears?”

The reporter said nothing to Eva’s request, but she knew a story existed behind those words. Perhaps she would ask later. But her curiosity was short-lived. Eva’s tongue worked magic on Kat’s soaked sex, prompting the woman to gasp and moan. Then came her first order as a submissive.

“…how you feel when I pleasure your sex.”

Adrenaline rose. Her hanging tits swayed as Kat moved with Eva’s rhythm. Nostrils flared. “I … uhm …” The woman took a moment to lick her lips as her voice groaned. “Warm … no, hot. Hot, but like a good chicken soup made by a loving caretaker. Hot and wet.” Another moan escaped Katherine’s lips, and she moved with Eva’s motions. “I feel like a child who is loved. I’m wrapped in a blanket of love. That’s how your touch begins – Auuhh …” She craned her neck back, her mind full of a strange, comforting fog. “But I’m hungry, and that hunger grows until I’m starving. It hurts, and it is bliss at the same time. It’s – Nnnngghhh …” Kat’s eyes popped open as her orgasm began to build. Eva’s hot, slippery tongue on her clit tore into her like a monster and a lover. “Fire! Sweat!” She cried out, an orgasm near.

“no: tongue breaks and thin

fire is racing under skin

and in eyes no sight and drumming

fills ears”

“and cold sweat holds me and shaking

grips me all, greener than grass

I am and dead—or almost

I seem to me.”

Katherine shook as she orgasmed. “Release,” she whispered. Eva, true to her word, did not stop.

“Tell me exactly what you desire. Exactly what you need.”

Katherine despised self-elations as much as she wanted to obey her new mistress. So instead, she told a story. “There is a woman who looks a lot like me. Maybe she is me. Perhaps I’m too ashamed to admit the truth. Her name is Charlotte. She goes out every night with a handsome couple. The husband is tall and dark with a stern, masculine face. His hands are calloused. His eyes are black. The woman is a goddess. Full lips. Bright, cinnamon-colored eyes. Her skin is soft as a summer breeze. Her hair is fire. Charlotte wears a collar and a leash. She wears whatever the couple desire. They take her out to a club. She dances on the pole for them. The stage lights illuminate Charlotte’s glistening body as she strips, tossing her clothes, panties, and stockings to the couple. Finally, she stands naked in front of a crowded club. Poor Charlotte. She is so ashamed that it hurts, yet she’s wet.”

Another orgasm neared. Katherine shook her head to fight the bliss. She dug her fingers into the sand. Like a wildcat, she growled.

“Charlotte crawls to him. She hates him, and yet … that is part of his allure. On her knees, she unzips his pants and removes his cock. The wife is behind Charlotte, kissing her, driving her crazy, but the brunette pleasures the husband. They go home. She is bound and teased. She becomes a bottle of soda, shaken again and again and again. Each time she knows the top will explode, but it never does. Not until she begs.”

Another orgasm claimed her. She could feel her wetness trail down her thighs. Eva did not stop.

“Charlotte begs them to beat her. They beat her. She screams, ‘Harder!’ The couple hesitates. She curses them, calling them cowards. ‘I killed two good men by running away,’ she says, slapping the husband. He finally obliges her. He strikes her again and again until she is bruised and bloody. It’s still not enough. It will never be enough.”

Katherine began to sob, her body shaking and falling. She looked away from Eva, ashamed, fearful of what she had unleashed from herself. “Redrum,” she whispered meekly.

“REDRUM!”

Eva acted immediately at the cry of the safeword. Stopping all play was a sacred covenant between domme and submissive. Not to be taken casually. The redheaded beauty crawled her way to the sobbing woman, pulling her into a much needed tender embrace. With swollen lips and a damp face, she planted kisses along the woman’s temple, cheeks, and lips, while. Oh my dear Katherine–Kat–you love and hate this. You’ll say no when you mean yes and hate us for doing it, then love us for wanting to do it again. What a beautiful tempest this will become.

Uttering such sweet nothings out loud would have diminished the sanctity of this affair, and yet Eva felt an immediate, and deep sense of foreboding. Was Katherine Cassett the one who brought them salvation, or ruin? Did they want too much? Was their intrigue too complex, or too trite? Would she betray them? Even as Eva sensed moisture filling at her eyes, she knew it would pass with another breath. She would never cry. There was nothing to do now except trust… no… hope.

“I do so wish you had allowed me to comfort you last night,” Eva whispered, the women holding one another as they watched a brilliant sun sinking beneath the aquamarine waters. “In fact, I am going to make it a rule. You have to let us take care of you after. If you truly wish for the intensity you shared, then we need to be able to make sure you are physically, and mentally healthy afterwards.”

Anyone within the culture suffered no illusions that BDSM was an art with numerous dangers. As much as a dominant was responsible for caring for those within his or her care, it was equally, if not more important for a submissive to communicate, and care for their dominant in return. This relationship twisted, turned, swept across a fiery dance floor as a tango in raw, undiluted form. Care and trust were the most important elements. If even one part of the covenant failed, then all involved were going to suffer terribly.

It was after dark by the time the women dressed themselves, and Iason was promptly at their side with flashlights, and extra hands to carry and assist in the trek back to the quite cliched black SUV. Neither woman said much at this point, but they found their way home hand in hand, and more than a few drawn out kisses shared on the drive home.

Eva spent the night in Katherine’s bed. The other woman did not complain.

[hr][/hr]

Alex watched his wife, and her new amore from afar throughout the next several days. The women, giddy as any couple when the experience was fresh and new, were hand and hand from dawn till dusk. They spent much of their time enjoying the pleasures of the island, giving Katherine a grand travel experience. Shopping, hiking, dancing, fine dining, boating, and more. At night, Alex knew the games they played, and he did not deny the warm feeling in his heart as he noticed the brave, formidable reporter relax, and dare he assume, begin to enjoy herself?

But alas, time was of the essence. Events were set in motion, and soon plots would unfold. Actions had been taken that could not be undone. It was time for Katherine to start the process of what he brought her here to do. There would be time enough for the women to play more. And if all was successful? Well, then perhaps all might find time to find comfort in the end. It was his hope anyway.

As they always seemed to do, Katherine was sitting by the pool, enjoying yet another hearty breakfast, and he remained in his seat beneath the linen colored umbrella of the bistro table. Eva would join them shortly, but even as her mind and body were well adjusted to the time zone, she still was not quite the early riser.

Without a cloud in the sky, and already the warmth of the day was setting in. Only the seabreeze offered a measure of comfort in this Mediterranean paradise. Alex, as he always did, stared out toward the southern valley, looking out as if he could spy the ocean from here. He at least liked to think he could see that thin aqua line kissing the cerulean horizon. Such a view always seemed to promise a better tomorrow. There was nothing he wanted more.

As he watched Katherine clean her plate, and sip the last of her tea, he raised his coffee mug to her. “And how are you today, fair Katherine, mio caro giornalista?”

Some years ago, Katherine spent an exorbitant amount on therapy for her survivor’s guilt from Afghanistan. For days after the incident, she would cry for no reason or sit in a chair alone in the dark with no thoughts in her mind. She was too ashamed of her wasted life to confront friends and family, which furthered her guilt. Eventually, Cassatt sought help, and through her work and personal struggles, she overcame the guilt. But she didn’t. Kat had only buried it.

Kat cried as long as the other woman held her, and she appreciated the comfort. Trembling and sobbing, Cassatt had found acceptance by vocalizing her penance. No amount of beating or torture would bring the two British marines back to life. Nothing would undo the suffering they felt in their last moments. Katherine knew she could not have saved the men, nor should she feel guilty. But she always would. At that moment, her sex burning from too much attention and too much pleasure, she accepted the guilt.

“Thank you,” she said, drying her eyes. Katherine listened to Eva as she imposed a new rule and agreed to the terms. Arm in arm, neither spoke as they lay together and waited on the sunset. Kisses and gentle touches said everything necessary through the night and all the way home. The primal affection continued into their bed and lasted most of the night until the women were nearly exhausted.

Together, in bed, snuggled arm in arm, both under one sheet, Katherine looked up at the clock on the nightstand—3:05 AM. Like Eva, Kat was a night owl, but her profession demanded she conformed with the rest of the business world and rose between 5 and 6 AM. When did she fall asleep? It was after midnight and a relaxing swim. Quietly, she climbed out of bed, her eyes blurry and red. Slipping on panties and a cream-colored see-through negligee, Kat grabbed her phone and patted through the house and to the pool, where she sat and began to type.

“Today, you asked me what I needed, and instead, I gave you a confession. I was a bad girl again. lol. I will take your words to heart and communicate my needs during our games. I look forward to those times when my body is in your care. I trust you, Eva, and I hope you will trust me. I understand why you wanted to play these games. BDSM is a trust of the body, mind, and soul. While I must condemn Alex’s actions as an arms dealer, I understand why he needs such faith in me. He loves you deeply, and seeing your hurt due to his actions would undoubtedly end him. I’m not so sure I would survive it, either. Of the things you have not told me, I can only put those aside and concentrate on the endgame, punishing those who pose a more significant threat to the world.”

“You will not receive this note tomorrow or the next day. I’m unsure when I’ll allow you to read this, but I will answer your question. What do I need? Nothing. But after today, I want to live with you for as long as possible, to revel in pleasure, pain, sorrow, and happiness. I want to be there for you when you need me. I want us.”

Katherine looked at the clock again. It was nearly 4:00 AM. She closed her phone and went back to sleep for a few hours. The next few days were more like a vacation than a kidnapping. Kat’s attitude with Alex soothed a little, though she was not ready for him yet.

After a night on the town, Kat sat alone by the pool wither her phone—another sleepless night.

“I feel decadent. Pangs of guilt fill me as I enjoy this beautiful island and its lovely culture. Thank you for three incredible days of fun and fulfillment. I’ve warmed up to Alex; he’s been a kind gentleman lately. Maybe I should thank him? Would you like that, Eva? But, he and I must discuss business first. Maybe your man will want to torture me again once we get into the meat of things. (Yes, I made a joke of that horrible night, so I’m either over it or have gone bonkers). Whatever happens, Eva. Know that I love you. For your sake, I will heed your advice and spare Alex his pride (if mine doesn’t get in the way). You should find this message (and another one from a few days prior) printed out and placed in an envelope on your desk.”

Sitting by the pool, across from a silent Mr. Morello, Kat enjoyed another full English. She patted her stomach and set her fork on the plate. The day was beautiful, like most days in Cyprus. The journalist was sipping tea when Alex spoke, asking how she fared.

“I am drowning in temptation,” Kat said. “I could stay here forever, but I sense you are growing impatient. So, how do you wish our relationship to proceed? What do you want to do with your information on cartels, terrorists, and so forth?” It was essential to Kat that Alex was given the widest berth possible. She had ideas, but he knew his profession and might have access to resources she didn’t know existed. Before Alex could begin, Kat recovered her phone and moved toward him, sliding onto her knees between his legs. “I’m ready when you are, sir.”

“Impatient is not the word I would choose,” Alex mused between sips of coffee, “but paradise can only last for so long before reality will demand our attention.”

Alex leaned back in his seat, using a nearby empty chair to lounge, crossing one leg over the other. He cradled his large coffee mug in his left hand, and watched the eager reporter with her pen and notebook, or at least, its digital equivalent.

“I am uncertain how much you know about my family’s history. When one thinks about Sicilians, their minds generally go to old noir movies. Or, perhaps, the Princess Bride.” Alex would never admit it out loud, but he never tired of that movie. “They imagine pinstripe suits, and tommy guns, but the reality is quite different.” Alex sipped his coffee, taking a brief moment to thank Elpida for clearing the breakfast dishes, and refilling his coffee.

“The Morello family have been at the head of the Scillian mafia for several decades, although our role on the global scene is rarely noteworthy in the media. We are merely dealers. Our business, in reality, is not so different from, say, selling cars.” Alex looked pointedly to Kat, lowering his sunglasses just enough to stop her from retorting with her usual quibs, and judgements on his involvement in the death of children.

“I, of course, never cared about any of it until my father and my older brothers were killed. After that, I had few choices in the course of my life. The void that the Morello family would have left at that time, well, let’s just say that for all you hate me and what I do, my business maintains as much order as much as it is capable of generating chaos. But I digress.

“As a child, not much was expected of me. I was the third born son. Our family had the heir, and the spare–so-to-speak. Father had all the legacy he could want, and with two older, far more capable brothers, the best I could ever hope for in the family business was to be a runner, a guard, or maybe an accountant if I wished to be bored for the rest of my life. Really, none of that interested me. While father groomed my brothers for their future in the industry, I was content to sit back and merely watch. And, when I could, I spent time with my mother helping her cook. It is from her that I found my passion for food. Cooking, baking. There was nothing I did not love creating in the kitchen, I often got to help my mother prepare for gatherings, holidays, and every other large Sicilian family celebration.

“And yet, even then, I was watchful of my father and brothers. Just because I was not a part of their world, or their business, part of me always felt as if I needed to know. Or maybe I just wanted their approval. I honestly couldn’t say for sure. But, I watched them; sometimes I worked with them. I certainly learned the business as well as they did.”

Through several sips of coffee, the very powerful, and arms dealer grew quiet. His gaze ever searching for the ocean just a hair’s breadth beyond his view.

“I was in culinary school in France when my father and brothers were killed in Africa. Marco was caught double dealing between two warring factions in South Sudan, and they were all punished for it. Run off the road, marched into the wilderness some miles off, and then they were all tortured, killed, and dumped into the Ubgani river. They made sure that all those that did business with the Morello’s knew of their treachery. The news of the betrayal would have destroyed my family. All of us.

“So, I had few choices other than to leave school, and deal with the mess my older brother made. I retaliated against those in Africa who killed my brothers. Just as they made an example of my brothers, I had to make an even bigger impression. Then, I needed to ensure that all the business deals with our clients in Asia, the Middle East, and everywhere else under the UN’s radar ran smoothly. I simply could not bear to see another cherished member of my family killed.

“It took several very long, and dangerous years to regain the power and balance that was needed to make my family safe. And even then, I needed to be careful. Unlike selling cars, weapons and those that wish to wield them tend to be very particular, and one wrong step can get you and those you love killed. More than that, unlike my brothers I found myself utterly unwilling to deal in chemical or biological weapons, and I very carefully and quietly work to block such transactions. It has made me enemies. Selling guns, explosives, even a few missiles, well if I do not sell them, then someone else will. Whether or not I am the dealer, the cycle of violence will continue. The harm those weapons do to children, communities, even civilization cannot end until there is no more demand.

“But, again, I digress. We cannot solve that problem here and now. You are now learning my story now. You can likely guess my desire from all this. A few years ago, my wife and I… Kabul. It was close. Too close. And I cannot lose her. I love her with everything that is me. She is pure. She deserves better than all I can give her while I am a monster dealing with bigger monsters.

“Over the next several days. I will share with your every major deal I have closed. I will provide evidence of who, where, when, and the outcome. You will gain full access to my ledger. It is information that if you are not careful, and wise could put you in danger as much as it will give you fame. But, I want to share these stories with you, and when we’re done, you’re going to take it to whichever authorities, editors, or government officials you need to. Once all is said and done, I am hoping your expertise will help in allowing Eva and I to disappear and live our the rest of our lives quietly, and peacefully.”

Alex set his long since empty mug onto the table. He then leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands behind his head as his gaze turned to Katherine directly. “So, Ms. Cassatt. I assume you have many questions by now. Ask away.”

“I usually connect Caponata or Couscous alla Trapanese with Sicily, the food, but I get your meaning. I’ve interviewed a couple of alleged mafioso. Truth is stranger and far more dangerous than fiction.” Much to her chagrin, Kat knew very little of the Morello crime family. Although she researched Alex, his public persona dealt with his legitimate business and Eva’s philanthropic causes. So, like a good reporter, she listened to Mr. Morello as he told his tale, making mental notes on his inflections and demeanor. Either he was a brilliant actor, or he was telling the truth. From what Cassatt knew of the Cosa Nostra, his father and brothers’ gruesome torture and death were not exaggerated.

Once Morello returned the conversation to Katherine, she stood up from between his legs. She wasn’t going to complain if he didn’t demand a blowjob. As she sat across from the man, Kat looked down at her phone, rereading the notes she had taken during his confession. “First, let me express my condolences for the death of your brothers and father. I may disagree with their profession, but I acknowledge how such a family tragedy may have affected you.” Cassatt hated what Alex did for a living. Even if he did feel a family obligation, there could have been alternatives. Perhaps he failed to see them during his grief, but she had to be objective. She had to toss out his and her feelings on the matter.

“Why didn’t you take your mother and your money and disappear? You plan to do just that with Eva.” She knew the reasons could have been pride, anger, inexperience, or a combination of all three. And his reasons could have been something else entirely. Alex’s tone did not suggest he cared for sympathy but understanding. He loved his wife and was scared for her. Kat could empathize. She cared for Eva too. Learning that they would soon vanish put a lump in her heart, but she pressed on.

Her next question had to be handled delicately. She could not judge, nor could she telegraph her feelings. “You could ensure Eva’s safety and give yourself up to the authorities. I know your information would outweigh anything I or another third party could give.” Would Kat run away with Eva if Alex gave his blessings? Of course, she would, but that was not her question. “You love your wife, want to be with her, and I understand, but what would you have done had I said no to your offer?”

Kat asked a few more questions about Morello’s family, father and brothers, and whether his mother was still alive. “She taught you well. You are an excellent chef, and it’s a shame you could not pursue that professionally.” The journalist placed her phone next to the empty breakfast plate. The amount of trust Alex would put in her was incredible—his life and, perhaps more importantly, Eva’s life.

“I look forward to our meetings over the next few days and how we can put your disappearing act into action.” Katherine stood, fidgeting with her hair as she stepped out of her shoes. “But first, I need to know something. I need to know what Eva sees in you. She is a good woman with a passion I’ve not known in a long time.” Katherine removed her top, revealing her braless chest. “And she craves a dark desire to be dominated, as do I. So …” The journalist removed her capri pants and panties, letting them drop by the pool, and sauntered toward Alex. “I need to trust you in a way I haven’t.” She leaned against Alex and kissed his cheek, her brunette hair tickling his arm. “Let’s play a game, Alex. Tame me.” Her eyes moved toward his crotch. “Tame me, and I will reward you to the best of my abilities.” With a sly grin, Cassatt moved away, turning her back to him, giggling like a schoolgirl and nervously waiting for his reaction.

Alex chuckled, the deep burr of his tone being something that was felt more than heard. “It was not so long ago you implied that I hurt you. Now, you ask for me to do it again.”

He guided Katherine down to her knees between his legs, his gaze never parting from hers. There was no command in his gaze, and yet he found himself with no patience either. Mere moments ago he spoke of things he never spoke of, even to his wife. He bore his soul to a woman that would either offer his salvation, or his destruction–and the questions she posed were worthy ones indeed. But, his family’s salvation would not come from questioning decisions from his past. The choice to carry on the family business was a complicated one; something he did not quite know how to put into words. Was he so arrogant that he wanted only to sustain his family’s power and legacy? Was it merely to keep his mother living comfortably? Or did his need to avenge his father and brothers outweigh all other decisions? God as his witness, he did not know.

“I will not lie mio caro giornalista. I feel a tiny shred of hurt that you ask for domination in the midst of me baring my soul before you. But then again, I do not know that I can answer your questions just yet either. I could tell you that I do not go to the police out of a sense of pride. I have lived free of their scrutiny for so many years, knowing how easy it is to outsmart the law. But that is not the whole truth. I cannot answer why I took over the business when you are correct that I could have easily protected my mother, and myself.

“The state of my life is a million little choices that have led me to this moment. I have never questioned my past, and now I cannot offer a worthy response.” As he spoke he also had his cell phone in the palm of his hand, quickly texting Iason to take Elpida home early–she was quite young, and Iason only ever asked that his younger sister never be witness to the intimacies that went on in the household. It was an easy enough request to be honored.

Alex then tossed the mobile onto the table, and let his dark eyes bore into eyes as blue as the midday sun, and yet they were a cool fire of confidence, and need. Behind even that, there was something more. He saw that she carried pain of her own; scars that would likely never truly heal. It was a pain that the true monsters of the world–monsters like him–would always cause the innocent. He would not be the one to save the world–and neither would she, despite her ongoing efforts–and yet he hoped she had the strength to do what was needed when the time was right. That was her true purpose–to do that which he did not have the strength to do himself.

Despite the darkness he held deep in his soul, he smiled down at the woman, and tenderly cupped her face in his hands. “Perhaps tomorrow we will try this interview again. I find talking to you both painful, and comforting. Thank you for having the courage to be here.”

The kiss he gave her then was gentle. He pressed his moist, coffee-flavored lips against hers, while he wrapped his arms around her pulling her into a firm, and loving embrace. When he parted her lips, he did it with a subtle request of his tongue, and even then he only deepened that kiss when permission was given. He was breathless when next he spoke, his eyes hooded, and unfocused. “You are a formidable woman, my dear Katherine. You are beautiful, and your power unmatched. We will, perhaps, always be more rivals than lovers. I truly love that about you. I doubt that I will ever ‘tame’ you, and yet I find myself welcoming the challenge.” Alex removed his shirt then, showing his chest of soft, pitch black hair, trailing down in a thin line down his torso, and disappearing beneath his pants. A dark, mirthful grin parted his lips, as he looked down upon the seemingly docile, and waiting woman. “Yes, I think I will dominate you this morning, but we will not begin with restraints or commands. No. For you, I think we will start with a little game.” Alex stood up, and stepped around the kneeling, waiting woman. “You will try to remove my shorts. And I will, of course, resist. If you succeed, then I will let you choose the manner of your domination today. However, if you fail to take my shorts–or if you beg for mercy–then you are mine to do with as I please for the rest of the day, until sunset.”

That impish smile widened as he stared down at the woman. Then, without another word, he took off at a jog, and then he did not dive, but cannonballed into the water, not unlike a boy excited for the chance to visit the neighborhood pool. When he broke the surface of the well-undulated water, he looked to the kneeling reporter. “Come now mio caro giornalista. Come, and let us play. Best me if you dare!”

Lies were a weapon for the weak. But unfortunately, too many influential men and women spun tales of fantasy to protect their egos. Alexander was the rare exception. He told Katherine the truth. Through his confession, the journalist found a complicated man in Mr. Morello, not the monster he claimed to be. Most of them weren’t. He was a man who did monstrous things. But he also knew love, pride, guilt, fear, and sadness, all things that make a human. Kat knew of such things.

Did she no longer hate him, or was Morello a balm for her monstrosities? Dark desires that she could not physically utter played deep in her mind. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. That was not my intention.” Her naked body knelt between his legs. Her body trembled with new sensations, and her sex glistened. Their eyes met. Again, he spoke, his voice wavering between humility and arrogance. She almost laughed. This man had built an empire on misery and desired a happy ending with his beloved. Western sensitivities disallowed such dreams in the open, but Kat knew the dark truth. Alex was not the outlier but the norm. All that separated him from 90% of the world’s populous was money.

“You have trusted me, so I thought to return the favor. I intended not to offend you but to trust you in a way I thought you would understand … and enjoy.”

Her story was only a partial truth. She was manipulating him, which wasn’t necessary, but an unfortunate habit as a journalist. Friends, family, and colleagues from her past offered platitudes that she shared no blame for the deaths of those two marines. But Kat was a reporter with an addition for a story, a need to be first at almost any cost. Alex would not give her absolution for her sins, nor did she desire it. Katherine craved penance.

She felt his hand on her face and nodded politely at the offer of a continued interview. Kat would ensure the mood was more to his liking. Perhaps he needed to feel safe in such a vulnerable space. Watching his attention turn to her, the brunette smiled. She liked men. Not as much as women, but the woman had times when she craved a rougher hand. Much to her surprise, Alex was gentle with his offered kiss. Was this a reward to thank her, or was Alex marking his territory? Or was the kiss an unexpected sign of respect in the only way he knew how to give it? As he held her, Kat moved her naked body closer to him, offering herself rather than being taken. Her lips parted, and she surrendered with fire, enjoying their passion. Tongues locked in a carnal embrace for a moment of indulgence. They were not rivals, friends, or lovers in that brief time. They were enjoying each other.

Then came the challenge. Kat smirked at Alex’s boyish behavior as he went into the pool. His was a tempting offer, one that she relished and feared. But that was the point. Fear and passion intertwined to create an exquisite cocktail that would drive her crazy.

“Challenge accepted,” she shouted and moved toward the pool. Katherine did many things incredibly well. Unfortunately, swimming was not one of them. She could easily do a few laps in an Olympic pool but at her own pace. Slipping into the water, she swam toward Alex, who quickly dodged her. Soon, it became apparent she would miss Alex every time she played fair. With a giddy grin, Kat dove under the water, her feet kicking her toward the man, but he sped away from her. Focusing on her prey, Katherine dove under Alex, catching his foot, but she was running out of air. Quickly, she yanked at the string on his shorts and pulled, then shot up out of the water.

“Ahhhhh.” Kat took a deep breath, rubbed the water out of her eyes, and dived again. She swam as fast as she could toward the man as he dodged her and kicked, though not to harm, but to distract. She tried, but as soon as she grabbed, he bested her, forcing the woman to the surface. While treading water, she inhaled steadily. She couldn’t beat him with strength. Instead, she had to be cunning. She drew several more breaths before inhaling deeply and went under for a third time. She swam close to him but did not pursue him. Alex must have wondered if she was about to give in. Kat closed her eyes as she took her gamble. Could she hold her breath longer than him? She waited underwater, using techniques she learned in therapy to keep calm. She listened to the steady ripple of the water as they both hung near the bottom. Her chest began to hurt.

Splash!

Alex had risen. Kat shot toward him, yanking at his shorts, pulling them to the knee. Her chest was on fire. She shook and rose, popping out of the water, inhaling deeply as Alex took her in his arms.

“I’m –” More deep breaths. “I’m okay … I’m okay.” Gently pushing away, Katherine clung to the side of the pool. “It looks like … it looks like you won.” She was heaving, desperate for air, and unable to rise out of the water; Kat calmly accepted her fate. Flashing Alex with a confident smile, she was pleased and frightened. The cocktail of fear and lust slithered through her body.

She never ceased to impress him. He had been a millisecond away from pulling her out of the water himself, before watching her rise to the surface, admitting defeat. Alex loved his wife, dearly. He would lay his life down for her, give her the world, forever treat her as the queen she deserved to be, but the love he felt growing for Katherine was something else entirely.

Eva was a woman with a heart full of love, and Katherine’s heart was one of fire. She was a true warrior in every sense of the word; never one to back down from a challenge. He wanted her now more than ever. As she caught her breath, regaining her composure, Alex swam to the woman, pinning her flat between himself and the pool wall. His larger frame trapping hers.

“Look into my eyes, Katherine,” he commanded, his tone turning deep; a tone that would brook no insolence. He waited for her compliance. “Your effort was quite pleasing; you nearly succeeded. It has earned you a reward. But first, today’s rules: until sunset you are my one and only submissive. The only words you are permitted to speak are ‘yes, Sir,’ or when my wife joins us you may respond to her with ‘yes, Lady.’ Do you understand?”

He waited for the appropriate response. “If things become too intense, you will use the safeword, at which time all play will end. Do you understand?”

He waited again.

“Very good. Now wrap your arms around me.” As Katherine did as she was bid, he cradled the woman in his arms, and with practiced ease carried her out of the pool, and set her down gently upon a nearby poolside lounge.

He pushed her back gently, watching her lithe form stretched out before him. “Arms over your head. Yes, like that. Grip the frame of the lounge and do not let go.”

The care and love he gave her body was not unlike worship. He planted caring, gentle kisses over her face and neck, his lips and hands trailing down lower ever so slowly, leaving no inch of her damp skin untouched. Carefully he took hold of her legs into grasp, and spread her legs wide before dipping low, slipping his tongue deep into her sex. His tongue swirled around the inside of her labia, teasing her only briefly before flicking his tongue against her clit. Then, he did it over and over again until she cried out, orgasming. He lapped up every drop of her pleasure before sitting back.

“Today, this is the only orgasm you will receive without my permission. If at any time you have an orgasm and I have not given you my blessing, then you will be disciplined. Do you understand?”

He waited for her response.

He smiled, though the darkness of those commanding eyes did not waiver. “Good. Now you will go to your room, and don some thigh-high stockings, and a pair of heels, no less than three inches. You may choose the style and color. You may not wear anything else. When you are ready, you will join me in the kitchen.”

[hr][/hr]

When Katherine reappeared, Alex was waiting for her, a series of toys neatly set out on the kitchen’s clean and ready table.

“Come closer my dear, and sit in this chair.” He watched her every sauntering step, studying how she cast her stark blue eyes downward. Every step she took echoed with the tap of her heels. His smirk was enough to show his approval of her wardrobe choices. When she sat, he took the first object from the table: a simple hairbrush.

He took her dark blonde locks into his hand, pulling them down the back of her shoulders, and he marveled at such natural color variation that no salon could ever hope to match. Gently, he brushed her hair, careful not to pull too hard, or too quickly. He made sure that no tangles caused her any discomfort, and he continued to brush her hair until it was an almost glowing display of gold and bronze cascading about her shoulders.

He set the brush down exactly where he had placed it, and took up the next object: a simple hair tie, which he presented to her.

“You will pull your luscious hair back into a simple, but secure ponytail.” This task was for her to do herself. It was the best way to ensure that her hair would be both secure and comfortable. As she finished, he snaked his arms around her torso, pulling her out of the chair. He could not help the low growl as he grappled her breasts firmly, enjoying how his hands captured them so completely. He buried his face into the nape of her neck, suckling her flesh while his erection pressed up against her buttocks, and it took much of his willpower not to give into his base, animalistic instincts and bend her over the counter and fuck her until neither one of them had anything left. God how he had looked forward to having her like this again: willing, wanting, giving into his every whim and desire.

But today he would remain a gentleman. He needed something more from her: Submission. Compassion. And, most importantly, trust. He would not throw those goals away so casually.

“Keep your hands at your sides, and do not move them,” he commanded.

He took the first of several leather straps–the third thing on the table–and secured it tightly around Katherine’s upper torso, pinning her arms to her side just over her elbows. It was a fine line to make the straps just tight enough to remain in place without cutting off circulation. He adjusted the strap four times before he seemed satisfied, and moved on to the second. This one he placed higher up, just over her breasts, securing it as snugly and with as much care as the first.

Next he took the moderately-sized black ball gag, and waited patiently for Katherine to open her mouth. When she refused, he tapped her left buttock gently, but even that light tap was enough to get her attention–and her inevitable anger. “I know you do not favor these, but today is about my desire, and you will only be rewarded when you are obedient. When the gag becomes too uncomfortable, you will tap your knuckles on the counter three times, and I will remove it. But, when you defy me outright, then I will discipline you. Do you understand?”

He waited for her only permitted response.

“Good. Now open your mouth.”

When he finished securing the gag, he gently slapped her right cheek. “When you are gagged and you need to use your safeword, you will always have access to a hard surface to knock on. Do it four times. Be precise. Nod if you understand.”

He was facing her now, and gently he traced his fingers along the side of her face. His black eyes bore into those wide blue eyes, perhaps more frightened now, than excited, but he was confident she would overcome. So much he had planned for her today; this was only the beginning. She was nearly shaking, but he merely cooed gently, reassuring her even through his menacing eyes.

With Katherine bound and helpless, he licked his lips, letting his hands roam freely over her body. He teased and played with her nipples before pulling her tight against him, and giving her buttocks a healthy squeeze, and then another. “When you are obedient,” he whispered into her ear, “then I give you pleasure. Sometimes I will give you pain, too, but if you are anything like my wife, then that pain will feed into your pleasure and you will know ecstasy on a level that you have yet to imagine. I know you tasted that the other night as I had my wife pleasure you endlessly.

“The body does not lie. That you are in my arms again, I can feel how much you desire this.” He slipped two his fingers down between her legs, stroking her just outside her labia momentarily before slipping those fingers deep inside her. His fingers pushed into her with speed and vigor, and he kept her gaze locked on him, grasping her head by he ponytail. “Look me in the eye.” He commanded, and he watched her, and he knew she was close to an orgasm, he stopped, smirking as she staggered slightly. “It is all about self control. Remain calm, even when it defies all need.”

The second to last object on the table was a plain, no frills silicone dildo. “Remember what happens if you orgasm without my permission.” He taunted as he stroked the object along her clitorus, letting her natural fluids lube the dildo before he slipped it inside her slowly and carefully. He stroked her only a few times before pushing it in all the way to the hilt, and moving her hand to replace his. “Hold it in there. Do not let it fall out.”

The final object was a chastity belt of simple, but effective straps. There were, of course, many belts of better, and more ornate design on the market, and some that came with attachments of their own, but Eva was not so fond of being teased with metal, and so this was the next best option.

Smirking, Alex wondered if this torment he cinched and secured around the sexy reporter’s waist would be loved or despised. He expected it would be a near-maddening cycle of both. Still, as he checked his work on the belt, he could not help but give Katherine a light tap with the flat of his hand, giving that dildo deep inside her a little jolt.

“Now, then,” he said, guiding her bound, not-quite-helpless form to the kitchen counter. He stood her before a cutting board where he had several foods and basic utensils–mainly butter knives, and spoons–then he stepped back and set himself down casually at the table.“I believe it is nearly noon. I am finding myself quite hungry, and I am going to instruct you on how to make the perfect sandwich. If I am pleased with your effort, then I will reward you.

“You will begin by removing two slices of bread…”

Alex pinned Katherine against the side of the pool. She shuddered. Her fingers flexed. Her eyes searched his features for mercy for half measures but saw only a dark lust and perhaps more. But he was a rival, an enemy. The brunette’s heart raced while she waited for his next move. Rules were given. She nodded in obedience.

“I under – yes, Sir.”

Kat never wanted a man more in her life. “Fuck me!” she would say and lay it down as a challenge with a smirk and a wink. “See if you can keep up.” She loved getting into trouble. Cassatt thought much of herself, but she was a child in this man’s arms, naïve and afraid. Had she bitten off more than she could chew? Definitely.

His kisses were gracious. Kat felt safe in his arms while she wrestled with her thoughts. “End it now! Push him away and scream the safe word.”

“No!” She wanted this. Shame washed over her as Alex kissed her neck. “Fuck me! Fuck me right fucking now!” Kat wrapped her arms around him when ordered. “You are going to take this man’s orders? Let him strip away your independence and dignity?”

“It’s not like that. It’s just fun.”

Powerful arms held her gently until she lay upon the lounger. Holding on, as commanded, Kat watched this magnificent man, a self-made Emperor of his world, kneel and savor her body. Each kiss was gentle but eager. Rarely had she experienced such devotion from another human being. Had she beguiled him? Could she push him now? Her body devoured each nibble, each worshipping kiss, until Morello spread her legs. She cried out in anticipation. Her legs kicked. Holding onto the top of the lounge chair was nearly impossible. Thin stubble tickled her thighs. She giggled. A deep moan creaked from her throat.

God! His tongue was incredible—a precise and dangerous instrument. Alexander Morello was a master violinist, and Kat was a Stratovarius. Her cries of passion hovered in the morning air, a symphony of something unknowable. What was she to him? What was he to her? Kat squirmed like a child being tickled, arching her back at the crescendo. She felt the hot wetness of his tongue inside her, enjoying her deeply. Finally, a hazy fog of bliss fell upon her, sliding Kat toward sleep. Katherine sighed; her eyes closed as he spoke.

“Yes sir,” she said to Morello’s promise of denial and walked to her room upon command. There was a thrill to his control of her like a child told not to play in the street or share their toys. And the urge to disobey was great. But how much should she taunt him with her disobedience? Entering her room, naked with chlorine pool water on her skin, Kat jumped into the shower for five minutes and proceeded to do as ordered. Bare feet patted on the hardwood floor, walking toward the dresser. She pulled out the bottom drawer, filled with stockings, most still in their packages. Sheer black tights with a lace band were classic and never out of style. Sitting on the bed, she bunched up the stockings, bent her toes downward, and rolled the delicate garment onto her leg. The lacy band with a floral pattern fit snuggly around her thigh. With the tights on, Kat perused her shoe closet. Mrs. Morello had gifted her so many it was almost hard to choose, but a classic black pump with a four-inch heel was never wrong.

Once in the kitchen, Kat saw the display of toys. A shot of adrenaline caused her to flinch and fidget, but the woman sat in the chair when ordered. Some of the toys she recognized. The dildo was prominent, though she cringed at the ballgag. As for the harness or whatever it was, she was unsure of its purpose. To the left and on the kitchen counter sat fixings for a sandwich with assorted cutlery. Obviously, Alex had planned this. Was he so sure she would lose the bet?

Finally seated, Kat felt Alex combing her hair. He surprised her with his skills which were likely picked up by practicing on his wife. Closing her eyes, Katherine enjoyed the way he cared for her hair, his almost loving movements not unlike a mother or father.

“My hair does feel better. I should have you as my stylist,” Kat thought as she took the hair tie. The woman carefully gathered her hair into a ponytail, choosing a comfortable height and combing through it. Once everything was just right, Kat wrapped the tie around the tail. Swishing her hair back and forth, the brunette ensured all was comfortable, then handed the comb back to Alex. Then …

She felt his arms around her, rising out of the seat, his hands molding her breasts. Her head craned backward, giving in to his touch. She felt his stiffness on her cheeks. At that moment, Kat was sure Alex would slam her onto the table and fuck her. The woman let out a disapproving growl when he didn’t. Standing, she waited for Alex to make his big move. As he did, she stared at his erection, licking her lips. Her intentions were clear, but apparently, Morello had a plan. “What –” Cutting herself short, the woman smiled cautiously, correcting her behavior, and laughed. She was a reporter. Unable to comment on Alex’s intentions was a torture she had not foreseen.

Admittedly, Kat was thankful that Morello cared about securing her, though she had to wonder if it was for the art’s sake or her benefit. It didn’t matter as long as she was comfortable, but if Cassatt had to guess, Alex considered his craft and her wellbeing. The leather straps were not too snug but allowed her arms movement only below the elbow. The moderate restriction would be cumbersome, and Kat wondered what Alex got out of it. If she were to see herself trussed up, she would no doubt look silly. Was it humiliation he was after or obedience? Her eyes turned to his when the man presented the ball gag. Kat glared back at the man, shaking her head. She disliked the taste and the feeling of drool down her chin. With no choice, Katherine opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, listening to Morello as he secured the ball into her mouth. Obedience it was.

The slap was mild but a surprise and prefaced her punishment should she disobey him. Again, Kat glared but made no other movement. Slapping her like a child was humiliating, reminding the 36-year-old how she was treated as a young woman in the newsroom. Men called her kid and made sexist jokes without regard. And yet something in her mind clicked, causing her to enjoy how he manhandled her. How Morello grabbed her, his rough, calloused hands exploring her body, exciting her nipples, fucking her to near release. She whimpered through the gag.

The dildo was next, and Kat watched Alex closely as he moved toward her. Again, he commanded her, warning her of discipline if she did not please him. Kat was wet with lust. The dildo slid inside her with ease. She struggled with the pleasure and pressure until the woman’s sex settled into a warm, blissful feeling. She held the thing as tight as she could until Alex harnessed her. Closing her eyes, the thing rubbed along her G-spot with each step she took. Kat bit hard into the gag and stared daggers at Morello. Unfortunately for Katherine, like many women, she needed clitoral stimulation to drive herself over the edge. The dildo would only ensure she teetered upon a razor-thin line of bliss and madness.

Moving to the counter, Kat had to spin and glare at Alex as he ordered her to make him a sandwich. “You misogynistic, knuckle-dragging Neanderthal….” The venom from her eyes said it all, and yet she complied. Was this fun for her? Yes and no. Katherine Cassatt was a third-wave feminist, a millennial who helped demand and create safe spaces for women. Yet, there she was, bound and gagged, primarily naked, making a man a sandwich. Cassatt wanted to be under his control, just as Morello testified. Turning back to the counter, Kat wondered if she was in the wrong. Could she enjoy BDSM and consider herself equal or even a proponent of women’s rights? Placing her knuckle on the porcelain counter, the woman thought momentarily. She could feel Alex’s keen eyes all over her body.

The fresh spread seemed to lean toward a simple ham sandwich. As a first trial, Morello was not out to fail her, but secure her obedience. Bread, ham, toppings, and condiments were all laid out for relatively simple use, but Cassatt sneered at the weak challenge. So, instead of going with simple, Kat pushed away from the counter and walked carefully to the refrigerator. The dildo moved inside her, causing the brunette to stop and compose herself. From inside, she retrieved pulled pork from the night prior and slid it onto the counter as best as she could. From then, she began with two slices of bread. The bondage made her job cumbersome but not impossible. The most significant hurdle was a plate or bowl sliding off the counter and onto the floor.

Drool from her mouth dribbled down Kat’s chin, chest, and breasts. She had to hope none would drop into the sandwich. First, she spread mustard on two slices of thick bread and folded a few layers of ham on one side. Grabbing a pickle jar with both hands, she loosened the top with her fingers and retrieved three small gherkins to place on the ham. Next came Swiss cheese, and finally, the pulled pork. The sandwich was put together and buttered on both sides. A grill sat on the counter, but her bound arms could not reach it. Kat sighed and pulled a chair to the counter, carefully using it as a step to reach her goal. The woman grunted and growled as the dildo toyed within her sex, but Kat was determined. After plugging in the grill, she placed the sandwich inside to cook. Then she realized that her sex was on display for Mr. Morello to enjoy. Closing her eyes, Kat waited. The grill dinged.

Cassatt carefully removed the sandwich, placed it on a plate, and then unplugged the grill. With great difficulty and the dildo teasing the fuck out of her, Kat climbed off the chair and picked up the plate, placing it in front of Alex. It was her version of a Cuban sandwich, her favorite from Miami. Drool dripped from her chin as her own juices trickled down her thighs. She curtsied and closed her eyes, hoping to fight away the humiliation.

Hospital in Germany

Approximately two weeks after Hotel Bombing in Kabul

Something was beeping. It was irritating. Why wouldn’t it stop?

It was too bright, even with eyes closed, and she might have asked for the light to go away, but her mouth didn’t seem to work quite right. It was by far too much effort just then to open her eyes, let alone try to speak. Besides, her throat ached terribly. She started to turn her head, but that turned out to be a horribly painful mistake. Suddenly, everything hurt. Everything was heavy, and miserable. What is going on?

The only thing that was not bad was her hand. It was warm. Snug inside something else that was warm. Loving. It caressed her hand. She squeezed that wonderful thing in her hand.

“Eva?” The dark, smooth voice seemed distant, so very distant. She loved that voice, and smiled. Once again she squeezed the thing holding her hand. His hand. It felt so good. It moved her hand, and soon she felt warm from the inside out. A kiss on her knuckles, and she smiled more.

“Morning.” At least, she thought she said the words. The sound that came from her though was hardly more than a whisper, and that one word was enough to leave her exhausted and wishing for a nap.

“I’ve paged the nurse,” the voice said quietly, “they wanted to know the minute you woke up.”

Eva squeezed his hand again. She really didn’t know who they were, but it didn’t seem important just then. A loving hand was in hers. That was far more interesting at the moment. With her other hand, taped, tubed, and covered with various monitoring tools, she went to place the hand on her belly. She too ought to receive a bit of reassurance.

Flat belly. Not round. Eva rubbed at her belly, looking for the bulge that was no longer there. Where was she?!

Eva’s eyes fluttered open. It hurt, but the pain no longer seemed to matter. First her eyes rested on her husband. He sat in a hospital chair, with his left arm in a sling, with a mess of gauze wrapped around his chest, shoulder and arm. His beard was growing out–he hated having a full beard. An IV bag hung from a metal pole on the wheelchair where he sat. He was wearing a classic blue and white hospital gown.

Everything was suddenly terribly wrong. Out of place. So. Terribly. Wrong.

She should have felt alarmed at what she saw, the hospital room with bland gray walls, and bright fluorescent lights should have been equally upsetting. And yet that too didn’t matter. Eva rubbed her belly again, as if she would be back, safe and sound where she belonged.

“Where?!” she croaked, “Where is she?!”

“Shh mio dolce amore,” Alex said, squeezing her hand as he kissed her knuckles again. The rim of his eyes were growing red, those dark eyes shining. “We will talk more when you are strong again?”

“But where is she?! Where did my baby go?!” She whispered, as realization and memories took unveiled through the pain and haze. Suddenly the room started to spin, and the feeling in her heart was sharp. Utterly painful. The annoying beep sound in the distance sped up, and then other alarms went off. “Alex! Where is-”

She stopped speaking, and not just because her room was suddenly invaded by people in scrubs. Eva had never before seen her husband cry.

~~~

Eva started awake; a jolt that made her head spin unpleasantly. Her big brown eyes already damp with tears. She was alone in bed, although that was not uncommon. Mornings were not her strong suit. Sighing heavily, she turned over in bed, pulling the covers tight around her, as she curled up. Gently, she put one hand at her belly, weeping quietly at the emptiness she felt.

Most days she was okay–or, at least, she coped. But, some days, it all rushed over her again. Today would need to be a slow start. Closing her eyes again, she let herself cry softly through as many slow, calming breaths as she could manage. Alex was often here with her to help her during such bad days, but she expected he was with Katherine, working. She knew he was growing impatient to begin his work with her.

Besides, it was fine. She knew the pain and emptiness would pass soon enough, and she would be okay.

In time, her tears ceased, and she felt brave enough to get out of the bed. Stretching she stood and padded over to the french doors leading to the patio. By the pool she saw Kat and Alex talking. She had her phone and was jotting down notes, her eyes glancing up at her husband at regular intervals. He was lounging as he always did, and working through his morning pot of coffee.

Smiling, she was happy to see her two loves getting along. Finally. Eva had a good feeling about today, and as soon as the last of her sad memories faded she would be overjoyed to be with them.

Perhaps a bath first. A nice long bath–plenty of time to let her lovers bond.

~~~

He looked up to the woman, his woman, his elbows resting on his knees. The grin slowly spread on his face, lighting up his dark eyes–a look that he had only offered to one other on the planet. Slowly, he stood, facing his beautiful reporter. Even bound, eyes fearful and challenging all at once, saliva trickling down her chin, she was stunning. Powerful. Did she realize her own presence?

Gently, he tugged the ball from her mouth, letting it drop gently around her neck. Stepping closer his hand snaked around the back of her head, tenderly embracing her fully. “The sandwich is delicious,” he said, only distantly aware he had not yet sampled it. The food would just have to wait.

His lips barely touched hers before he pulled her tight against him, pushing his tongue inside her mouth kissing her deeply, fully, and with barely controlled passion. With his hands dropping down to her buttocks, he pulled her hips up against his erections while he walked her backwards the few steps it took, and he sat her onto the table. Still he kissed her, caressed her, held her gently.

“Lie back,” he whispered, and he gently guided her down flat on her back on the table. He quickly unlocked the harness at her waist, carefully removing the straps. He did not, however, allow that dildo to fall out. With his hand, he held it there, and even partially bound, he guided Katherine’s hand to replace his–even strapped and bound, she had just barely enough reach. “Hold this here,” he commanded, “do not let it go. Yes, like that, molto bene.”

He could not help his almost boyish smirk, watching the woman struggle, her back arching, while she squirmed so uncomfortably. The glare in her eyes only made him want her more. How he loved how his fiery reporter challenged him even in the midst of compliance.

Slowly, he walked around the table, his fingers tracing up her bare skin ever so lightly. “I know how much you wish for an orgasm, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“But, today, you only get it when I desire it, yes?” He stood just over her now, looking down the line of his own body into her blazing azure eyes. She bit out her one and only response.

He slipped out of his shorts, letting them pool around his ankles, and he took his erection into his hands. “Open your mouth,” he said, his tone turning coarse, his own self-control starting to wear. “Show me how much you want pleasure.”

With the woman’s mouth open, and ready, he slipped his head into her mouth, letting her take over as much as she could. Gently, he pulled her closer to the edge of the table, letting her head hang back giving her better control as she sucked him. Alex groaned as her lips pressed around his erection, her tongue stroking him, her cheeks puckering. “Oddio sei perfetto, mio caro giornalista!”

It was all he could do to avoid pushing himself into her mouth fully; to thrust himself without care or grace. So help him, he wanted to. He was, in his very heart of hearts, a monster. Everyone in this room knew it. It would have been so easy to fuck this woman’s face without care or remorse. But, as he commanded the ultimate self control from his woman, he did so doubly for himself. Here and now, he let her set the pace, he supported her head in his hands, guiding her and holding her.

“Così buono, now pleasure yourself while you pleasure me,” he commanded, and he smirked down, knowing how much she would embrace his new challenge, “fuck yourself, as you fuck me with your mouth.

“There you go,” he said, pleased as she started pushing and pulling at the dildo It, of course, took time for her to find a rhythm with what she did between her legs, and what she did with his penis; something he knew would require absolute concentration and discipline.

But, even then his own focus was waning, as his own arousal reached new heights. She was going to pleasure him until he too lost his ability for focus, or control. And still he pushed himself, carefully cradling her head with one hand, and reaching to tease her lovely breasts with his other. When he sensed that she would not be able to hold back her own pleasure, he merely twisted a nipple to help her refocus. She squealed, even with her mouth full, and he knew she would be angry with him later, but the tactic was quite effective. “Not yet!” he said, voice straining.

Looking up, it was only then he realized they were no longer alone. His exquisite wife, standing nearly naked, save for her open robe, was smirking at the display before her. His eyes, hooded and unfocused, smiled back at her, and he nodded subtly as she placed a delicate finger to her lips, insisting on his silence.

And, with terribly quiet feet she snuck up to the table opposite her husband, and leaned forward between Katherine’s legs, and very gently took over. But, Eva did not simply pleasure Katherine with a dildo, indeed, she set the object aside, and leaned down, and slipped her tongue over the woman’s dripping sex. Katherine’s body arched almost violently atop the table, and Alex quickly held the woman’s head firm. “Don’t you dare stop!” He bit through clenched teeth, his hips pushing his penis deeper into her mouth, and holding it there as long as he thought she could manage it. “Ahh! Fanculo il mio giornalista sexy. Venire! Vieni adesso!”

“Come! Now!”

Look into a wild cat’s eyes, and it may charge. Should Kat look away as Alex started her down? No – it would disappoint him. Fuck what Morello wanted. Katherine would not flinch even in her diminished state. The brunette watched the man closely – a lone wolf eying his prey. Yes, she could finally admit how she found submission enjoyable, but the whole idea still irked her feminist sensibilities. This man would do things to her that would otherwise cause her to recoil. Kat kept sight of his obsidian eyes and dark, hungry smile. That smile made her wet, and she hated herself a little.

He removed the ballgag. Katherine worked her jaw, relieving the tension and ache. Saliva covered her chin and neck. Almost immediately, Kat found herself in his arms again. Alex held her as if he owned her. They kissed like old lovers, hungry to drain one another of past memories. She wanted him so badly. The dildo nudged with every move. God, she needed him to fuck her, but no. The sweet agony was something she craved, even as she moaned for mercy between each kiss. Words that needed to be said battled on her tongue, desperate to be heard, but she held back. Cries and whimpers were her only language at that moment.

Guided onto the table, a spark of fear and anger met her azure eyes. Was Morello going to fuck her like meat? No. Alex had seen the dark wish on her tongue, and he would grant it. The harness holding the dido was undone. She took it in her hands, clutching the black leather harshly. The shaft threatened to slide out, but quickly, Kat held the evil thing in place. “Mhhhmmm…” Her soaked pussy cried out, begging for Kat to finger herself. She held firm. Need was not the word. A fire brewed within Cassatt, fueled by her degrading desires. Her body flinched and jerked with each touch of his finger. Her blue eyes, filled with anger and fear, begging for release, glared at Alex as he moved around her. Fuck me, dammit! She thought. Take me! This unending denial between her legs, complimented by any lack of his touch, was a torture she could not describe. Tease me! Fuck me! Anything! Kat growled low, arching her back, readying herself for what was to come.

“I know how much you wish for an orgasm, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

He knew she needed to cum. The question was only a taunt and a reminder that he controlled her. That realization that he owned her then ripped a gasp from her throat. Closing her eyes, Kat could feel tears threatening to fall. She arched her back again. The table squeaked and groaned under her weight. Juices from her sex puddled beneath her.

Alex let his shorts drop, allowing his cock to bob up and down as it grew to its full erection. A heavy rhythmic thump sped in Kat’s heart. Deepening her breath, Kat saw that dark smile looking down at her. She belonged to him, and God help her … Cassatt, to her shame, loved it.

“Open your mouth …”

Her lips quivered. The safe word was on her tongue for an instant, but slowly, she complied, spreading her soft lips and draping out her tongue. Almost instantly, she tasted his head. The bulbous organ rolled around her lips, forcing the harsh, salty flesh into her mouth. Closing her eyes, Kat readied for Alex to violently fuck her mouth. He did not. Instead, she felt her head dip over the edge of the table, his member pushing gently deeper inside her orifice.

Katherine could count on one hand the number of blowjobs she had given. Three. The first came when Cassatt was 15. A boyfriend stuck his erection in her mouth to face-fuck her. Instead, she sucked on the shaft until the 16-year-old yelled out. She used too much teeth. The second was a man she dated for many months. It was his birthday. The third blowjob was at night in her office. This man was good and gentle. He allowed Katherine to take her time, guiding her through the experience. She loved him, but cancer took the man from her too soon.

On her back, head dangling off the table, Kat put her lips and tongue to work. As ever, she pushed herself, recalling videos and blog posts she once used to hone her limited skills. Closing her eyes, Kat ran her tongue across the shaft, carefully following the veins to mix up anticipation. Her lips held the penis firmly but gently, the way she would suck a woman’s nipple. Applying enough pressure to tantalize, the 36-year-old moved her head in tandem with Morello’s steady rhythm. The man wasn’t thrusting. Not yet, but Kat could feel his balls occasionally slap against her nose. His musky aroma was both revolting and compelling.

Alex commanded her to use the dildo. Kat whimpered but complied. She was so wet the shaft moved freely as she used her slippery fingers to fuck herself with the silicone member. Guttural cries slipped through her cock-filled lips. The scene was nearly unbearable. Kat’s eyes were shut tight. Tilting the dildo, Kat rubbed the soft silicone along her g-spot, pacing slowly and adding to the torture herself. Muffled cries for mercy went unheard while the journalist squirmed and danced on the table, sucking Alex’s cock. Her movements increased, hoping to finish him off quickly. And yet, as her cheeks sunk, her lips and tongue retained their soft allure like silk gliding over the man’s erection. All the while, she held the harness in her right hand.

Suddenly, Kat felt a cold finger between her legs, the dildo exiting her hole. As Eva snuck in, the woman jumped and squirmed, allowing her tongue to tease Kat’s burning desire. The pleasure was unimaginable. Katherine arched her back and pounded on the table, shaking the legs of the furniture. Contorting and twisting, Cassatt found it harder and harder to concentrate on the blowjob. But she would cum any second, and a glorious orgasm awaited her.

But not yet. Alex held her in that spot between heaven and hell, driving the woman to complete madness. “NNmmmmhhm!” She cried out, desperate for release. Her technique with Alex’s cock became erratic. Her labia and clit were assaulted by such a hot, experienced tongue. Her pussy convulsed as if crying out itself. Tears flowed freely past her temples. God, she needed to cum, but Morello continued to deny her. Soon Kat would have no choice in the matter. She was not as experienced as Eva and would not hold out much longer.

Mercifully, Alex gave his permission. Kat came like a summer storm. Her glistening body thundered and nearly toppled the expensive table underneath her. The orgasm rushed through her body like a dose of H. The reporter’s concentration was all but lost as her technique became haphazard. The harness slipped through her sweaty palm. A full minute went by before Cassatt realized she had stopped sucking. With fear in her eyes, she began again, using the same strategy to pleasure the man above her. Dark, black eyes stared down at her, and a fantasy emerged deep in her mind.

The clank of steel on steel sounded across the muddy field. Lady Katherine stumbled backward only to regain her footing. She quickly parried Alex the Black’s thunderous claymore. In half a second, she spotted an opening and jabbed her longsword at the villain. He countered her jab with a block, knocking her back with a thrust of his shield. With the wind knocked out of her, Katherine stumbled sideways. Morello slashed forward. She fell into the mud.

“Yield!” he commanded. “Yield and I promise you will desire for nothing.” His words were dark and full of iron.

“No! I will not yield to a monster!” screamed Katherine. She lay in the mud trembling, her gloved hand reaching for her sword.

STRIKE!

Alex the Black carved a mark on the woman’s soft, rosy cheek with the tip of his blade. His armor clanked as she moved one step closer, holding the sword at her throat. She spat blood and mud from her mouth, a promise to see him in hell. Alex smiled and ripped off Katherine’s helmet. Several armored guards came running to the scene.

“Yield, or I leave you with them,” Alex’s smile was dark and vast. The guards knelt down and pawed the woman as she fought them off, biting and growling in the dirt like a wild cat. Alex laughed so hard his armor shook. Hands grabbed the woman, stripping her armor there on the field.

“I yield!” she screamed, terrorized and shaking.

Alex the Black nodded to his Captain of the Guard. A black leather glove eclipsed Katherine’s face, smothering her until she fainted.

Kat exited from her haze with the realization that she was still sucking Alex’s cock, though not very well. His erection half entered her mouth as she lost the rhythm. Eva continued to pleasure Katherine’s sex, leading her to another orgasm. The journalist groaned.

Without her master’s say, Cassatt spat out the cock and repositioned herself, and began anew. She was tired but aimed all her concentration at Morello’s member. Soon the penis was sliding over her lips again, her tongue igniting points along the shaft, hoping he would cum quickly. The harness fell out of her hand and onto the floor. Her performance was lacking in this scenario and would disappoint Morello greatly.

Eva

Knock. Bang. Rattle. Crash.

She did not notice herself wincing as the kitchen table was put through its paces. Katherine’s entire body shook, and with all her vigor the table itself trembled. Of course, this was not the object’s first event. Eva and Alex always managed to find creative uses for all spaces in the house. It was why they never bothered with an official “playroom.” Why limit such erotic games to a single room? Of course, there were some rooms with more toys and tools available than others, and Eva could see by Alex’s mood that Kat had a long day ahead of her.

“Eva! Stop!” Alex roared through moans and gritted teeth. It was too late though, and his seed left Katherine choking and suffering through a mess of semen covering her mouth and face. Even the sexiest moments of intimacy turned incredibly messy, and hardly ever as beautiful as movies (even porn) made it out to be. Alex cursed under his breath as he watched his new lover choking and sputtering. “Damn it. I had not- Eva, a towel!”

Eva did not understand her sudden irritability, but she did as her husband bid, and as she returned with a small handful of kitchen towels. She helped Alex, and together, they helped Kat sit up on the table, where they cleaned the bound woman’s face, and only after they finished doting upon their submissive, with tenderness, and love. Eva watched as he gave as much love as he demanded. If she was being honest with herself, it was one of her favorite elements of play. As the moment calmed, Alex replaced his shorts over his hips, and removed Katherine’s restraints. His fingers trailed down the side of her face before pulling her into a sweet, and gentle kiss.

“There is only one other woman in this world capable of making me lose control so completely.” His words were gentle, even as they did nothing to change the animalistic look in his eyes. “I love how you comply and challenge me all at once. Do not ever change, mio caro giornalista.”

Eva sat back and watched the new couple, frowning. She folded her arms across her bare chest, her silky robe hanging open. Today was their day, and Eva was overjoyed to see them connecting–finally completing their ménage à trois. It was a beautiful moment. Really.

And yet her stomach turned, and no smile parted her swollen lips.

“Of course, my dear Katherine–Kat–you are mine until sunset. And I am sure that Eva is hungry, and after such pleasure, you certainly need sustenance as well. You will see to Eva’s needs, and then serve yourself. We will all eat, and then, I do believe that you had at least one more orgasm than I gave your permission for. We will address that matter before the sun sets.”

Kat merely glared at Alex intently. Eva could tell that she was tired, but more than that she seemed less than thrilled with Alex’s promise of more games to come. And, as she was learning the woman’s most minute mannerisms, she could tell that Kat was more determined than ever to beat Alex at his own game. For her, being submissive was more than merely bending will to another, it was a challenge. Kat was competing with the other man, determined not to let herself give in, at least, not completely. It was with that subtly the woman gingerly hopped from her perch on the table, and complied with the man’s wishes.

Eva smiled at Kat, though it took every ounce of her poise and effort to make that smile believable. Joining Alex’s game, she asked the other woman for her usual breakfast/brunch of yogurt parfait before joining her husband at the table.

“And how did you sleep, mio caro amore?” Alex asked around a bite of his Cuban sandwich.

“Fine,” Eva said smiling. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late. I don’t know why jet lag is hitting me so hard.” She looked over at her other lover. “It seems that you and Kat are getting along quite well today…”

Eva didn’t quite know how to finish the statement of fact.

Alex grinned looking at the other woman preparing food so dutifully in the kitchen where dishes clanged against the counter, the echoes of drawers opening and closing echoed in Eva’s ears. “Indeed. We have started our interview conversations. And then she challenged me to a little game. Naturally, I won.” Alex winked at Katherine. “She is mine until sunset. Or, should I say, she is ours.”

Alex took his wife’s hand, bringing it up for a gentle brush of his lips. “We will rest and reinvigorate ourselves for a time, and then we shall offer our new, sweet, love a lesson or two in self-control.”

“Okay,” Eva replied, her eyes looking over at Kat more than Alex. Her hand dropped absently to the table. When Kat’s eyes fell over on hers, she gave the other woman her best, most sultry smile paired with a playful wink.

It looked so genuine that Eva herself almost believed it.

[hr]

Hotel in Kabul, Afghanistan 2017

The phone rings but she never makes it. The entire building shakes and shutters. The deep, deafening rumble pierces straight through to the root of all terror, and the darkness that follows becomes mercy itself… that is until she wakes surrounded by it.

Darkness. Too much of it. Small. Cannot move. Hard to breathe. Her hands desperately search for the only thing that matters. It is her job to protect her. She is a mother now. No one else can do it.

Why? Why won’t her arms move? No. Wait, she starts to shift one, but that is a mistake, and the things in the darkness shift. Crumble. Rattle. Bang.

A voice she does not recognize as her own cries out. Pain. Everything hurts. She cannot move, or new things will crash on top of her. Have to be still. Stuck. Need help.

Voice cannot carry in the darkness. Throat too dry. Space is too small. Dangerous. Getting difficult to breathe. Fear turns into terror. It’s not safe here. Need to protect… need to save…her.

Need help.

Hear me, my sweet, baby girl. Daddy will come. Daddy will save us. You’ll see. Please, God, help him save us. Please.

The things in the dark shift again. Things fall on her. It is loud. New pains. Everything hurts. Everything is heavy. Getting difficult to breathe. Consciousness fades.

[hr][/hr]

“Are you sure you are alright, Eva?” Alex’s brow furrowed while his hand reached across the other woman where the threesome scrunched together and cuddled on the oversized sofa.

Lunch had turned into a rather quiet affair. It made Alex nervous. He knew why Katherine had been quiet, and yet the looks they exchanged seemed to turn into a conversation all its own. Every time she gazed at him curious, shy, embarrassed and defiant all in equal measure, he met it with one of his own–one that promised many things both dark and mischievous. Of course, dominant as he was, it was not in his nature to ever treat a woman with true cruelty or disrespect. Some degradation and debasement was certainly part of the game, but when done correctly the woman should feel good by the end. Loved. Revered. He showed that with this gaze as well.

But, at that moment, he was far from worried about his submissive reporter more-or-less sandwiched between himself and his wife on their large leather chesterfield on their third floor entertainment room–a room setup for an evening of fun from billiards, to darts, and even a fully stocked bar. On rare occasions he even set up his gambling table for those rare nights where he nand Iason had friends over for a few rounds of poker, cigars and She was poised languidly against his bare chest between his legs, and just below him, Eva was curled up, her head resting peacefully in Katherine’s lap, her body somehow seeming peaceful amidst the mess of legs around her. Alex’s heart filled with love as he went back and forth, from tracing his fingers down Kat’s smooth, bare skin, occasionally cupping and toying with her playful breasts, to reaching down and stroking Eva’s soft, fiery curls.

Eva.

Something was wrong with her today, and God as his witness, he could not figure it out. For days had had sensed her unhappiness with him, and he expected she would talk to him when she was ready. She always did. He hated it when she let herself suffer in silence. Her suffering was always his greatest torment. If not for Katherine, he might have pushed. But no. It was too soon. Some things were not for the reporter’s ears. Not yet.

“Eva?” Alex stroked his wife’s hair some more, “are you awake?”

Eva finally stirred, turning her gaze up, past Katherine’s body, and then up to him. “Huh? I’m fine.”

Alex didn’t believe it in the least.

Eva shifted onto her belly then, her lips spreading into an impish grin. “Don’t look at me that way. Seriously.” She turned her gaze toward Katherine’s breasts. “Getting a little bored, though.” She propped herself up, and started teasing one of the other woman’s breasts with her tongue.

“Mmm,” Alex mused as he started manipulating Katherine’s other nipple with his thumb and forefinger. “I did promise our lady here a lesson, did I not?” He gave the nipple in his grasp a quick little pinch and twist as he said it, chuckling at the woman’s stark surprise. “What do you say mio caro giornalista, are you ready?”

He waited for the only appropriate response.

“Good.” His tone was cheerful, the look in his eyes darkening. “Eva, if you would mind giving our submissive space so that she may get up?”

Eva, with her lips still wrapped around Kat’s nipple rolled her eyes up to her husband, pouting. But, she dutifully sat up, giving the woman space to move. “I like playing with her nipples though. She makes these cute little…”

Alex merely smiled and shook his head, clearing his throat to mask a chuckle–it hardly seemed appropriate to laugh when entering into a hardcore state of mind. And, indeed, did he plan to put his new woman through her paces. “Eva, please retrieve the trunk from the side bedroom.

“Kat, you will stand up, and walk over to that chair over there. The black one against the partition. And then you will box your arms behind your back and wait for me.”

Alex walked over toward the billiards table, and Eva was already there, waiting for him. Smirking, he pulled her into his arms, offering her a brief, but no less heartfelt kiss. “Ti amerò per sempre.”

“Per sempre,” she echoed, even as she stepped away from him.

Alex barely hid the mounting disappointment. It was not like her to turn away such tenderness. Why?

Sighing, he opened his trunk, and pulled out several black nylon ropes, each of them meticulously wrapped. ménage à trois arrangements were often complicated as they were, but in bondage it was sometimes even moreso. This meant that he could not simply ignore one woman, while the other behaved surly. And right now, he chose to turn his attention back to Kat. He was earning her trust today, and he would not lose that ground here and now.

He went back to his charge, after setting all but one coil of rope on the nearby bar table, he turned to Katherine, pulling her bare, pale body up against his, wrapping his arms around her snugly. His breath was hot against her ear. “I am going to tie you to that chair now. You will be exposed. Helpless. Your only job is to keep your pleasure under control–orgasm only when I say. Your discipline for failing me earlier is I will make you wait a very long time before I allow you to come. You will want to beg for it. Scream. Struggle. I will deny you until you think you will go mad from need. Of course, I will not gag your mouth as long as you remain absolutely quiet. While I torment you with pleasure, my wife will introduce you to many other sensations. You will also be blindfolded while Eva and I give you our full attention. If you orgasm at all without my permission, I will add ropes and new restraints that will make things even more difficult for you. If you are good, then I will reward you.

“Understand?”

He waited.

“Good.”

As always, he took his time with the ropes, often stopping to fondle and tease her along the way.

Katherine told herself she would be ready. She hoped to spit the member out of her mouth before ejaculation. If lucky, the woman could turn her head and miss most of Alex’s seamen. But then it happened. Kat felt the cock throb in her mouth, but she wasn’t ready. Tired, hungry, and writhing on the table, the reporter had little time to react. Her best-laid plans all went to shit. The first load made it into her mouth. Kat had forgotten how much she hated the taste. She spat and sputtered, shaking her head back and forth as the cum covered her face. The odor was revolting, but the texture caused Kat to shudder. Humiliated, a picture of herself covered in spunk ran through the reporter’s mind. Was Morello pleased with himself now? Apparently not.

“Ughg!” she shouted. Alex’s apology barely registered. Had she not been bound, Kat would have run to the bathroom to wash the filth from her face. Trickles of hot cum slid down her cheeks while she coughed and gasped. Reality did not return until Katherine felt Alex and Eva’s gentle touches as they wiped Morello’s seed from her face. Their compassion was more humiliating than the ejaculate itself. Kat felt like a cheap whore being readied for the next customer, which wasn’t far from the truth, and she shivered when his arms wrapped around her body. Sweaty and sticky, the kiss lingered with his touch, and for that moment, she gave in. She wondered if he celebrated those little victories.

Morello reminded Kat of the evil and good within humanity, but his eyes betrayed his desire. This man longed to conquer her, and Kat knew it. She could see the hunger within those black orbs.

Still coughing and gagging, Kat heard Alex bestow his kind words on her behalf. “Imagine if I knew what I was doing,” she thought but answered as expected. “Yes, Sir.”

Sitting on the table, Kat noticed Eva’s silence. The reporter was used to Mrs. Morello’s compliance. When ordered by her husband to perform a task, she rarely spoke a word, and when she did speak, her voice was often hushed – a whisper of utter devotion. Katherine shifted her gaze momentarily to the flame-haired woman and was surprised to find a frown. The sullen expression didn’t last. What was going on? By his demeanor, Alex was just as perplexed. She couldn’t be jealous?

Morello’s soft words sharpened as he reminded the woman that she was still his until sunset. She couldn’t help but show her disdain as the game continued. Did she hate him in that moment? Yes. A little. She hated herself too, but she shared his love of conquest. Usually, she chased a story, seeking a thrill from her impending victory. How often had her heart sped up after nabbing a particular interview or finding the titillating clue? Like a drug, she was chained to the addiction of winning. Her tug-of-war with Alex was no different. And yet, there was something else in the mix. The domination was both humiliating and exhilarating. She craved it. She dreamed of that perfect spot between heaven and hell.

Fortunately, he allowed her a rest after unbinding her. Nodding with another, “Yes, sir,” Cassatt moved further into the kitchen while Alex tended to his wife. While at the counter, the brunette thought to end the play on Eva’s behalf. Perhaps another day would be best when Eva felt more like herself. Kat’s pride won over.

Before fixing lunch, Kat drew several paper towels from the dispenser, wetted them, and pat the moistened tissues upon her face, arms, torso, and thighs. One of her stockings had curled around her ankle, so she rolled it back onto her shapely leg. Cassatt was sure that she looked awful with the sweat and tear stains even after a freshening up, but there was no sense in keeping pretty when she had a full day ahead.

Stacking five pieces of bread together, Cassatt cut the crust, placing the excess in the compost. What she needed was not on the counter, so the 5′ 7″ woman searched the upper cabinets until she found what she needed – peanut butter. Next, she laid all five pieces of bread on the counter and added the spread to each one, meaning the top and bottom would get double portions. Reaching into the refrigerator, Kat pulled out a jar of blackberry jam. Katherine preferred jam over jelly in every instance, though she favored preserves overall.

During her time with the Marines, Katherine learned that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was perfect. The concoction contained protein, fat, carbohydrates, and sugar – foods she would need for energy. Once her sandwich was complete, she set it aside to tend to Eva’s yogurt.

Was Eva on a perpetual diet? Kat wouldn’t ask, but she did feel a little sorry for those without her fast metabolism. Again, the near-naked woman rummaged through the kitchen until the woman found the right glass. When reaching upward, she imaged Alex glancing at her exposed sex or breasts as they stretched.

Yogurt parfait was a simple dish to make, but it needed flare. Alex had anticipated his wife’s needs and laid out several small cups of blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, and strawberries. A healthy portion of nuts and grains lay inside a ceramic bowl. A small chocolate bar sat on the counter as well. Using a wooden spoon, Kat swirled the yogurt within a rounded glass. She added the berries, nuts, grains, and tiny chocolate crumbles. Maybe it would lift Eva’s spirits. Repeating the process, Kat created an elegant parfait with a mint garnish. She placed the meals and drinks on a tray and served the Morellos in their living room. Starved, Katherine dug in, devouring the giant sandwich before finishing a cream soda.

The battle was hard fought, but Alex the Black had won. Of course, he won. A loss would have humiliated him beyond all reason, and he would rather die than admit defeat. Much to the dark warrior’s dismay, the Queen had not been found on the castle grounds. Alex needed her to bend a knee before the known world and show that he was the rightful ruler. Without her surrender, the new king was just a trespasser.

Deep in the dark bowels of the castle, the new king waited in the dungeon for his prize – Lady Kathrine, a Knight in service to the Queen. Her objections could be heard from the top of the stairs until she was drug into the darkened chamber.

“I said unhand me, you fucking imbeciles!” cried the lady. Dressed only in wool gambeson and trousers, she was led before the dark kind. He smiled as she struggled. Even in defeat, Katherine raged like wildfire – untamable and utterly mesmerizing. It took four guards to hold her, and she still gave them a fight. Alex the Black laughed with delight. He could do many things to the beautiful warrior, but he needed the Queen’s location. Rumors sang of love between Katherine and Queen Eva. If such were the case, the lady would not bend quickly. So much the better, thought Alex the Black. He pointed to an X-frame in the corner.

“Bind her!” the warrior barked.

Katherine did all she could to escape, kicking, biting, and twisting, but it was useless. Soon, she was tied to the wooden frame with twisted ropes biting into her flesh. Alex approached her with a sharpened blade. His eyes hinted at the terrors that awaited the fabled Knight. Carefully, he sliced her garments, careful not to cut the skin. Her white flesh was the color of honey in the firelight. Strips of wool and cotton garb fell to the blood-stained floor until all of Katherine was exposed. Alex let his lips curl in a mischievous smile as he backed away to take in his prize.

“A goddess,” he said with more passion than he intended.

Naked and bound, she did not shy away from his challenge. Instead, the Lady Knight hurled a string of curses at her captor. “Cowardly son of a whore! Strip me! Bind me! Deprive me of my weapons; I am still more man than you!”

He only laughed and admired her flame. “My advisers have warned me to execute you … slowly. They believe your screams will quash any retaliation against me.” He allowed his hand to glide across her arm. Katherine squirmed, her face twisted in rage. “Your rotting corpse, hanging in the courtyard, would deter all from revolt.”

Katherine spat at the man. Her saliva hit his cheek and dribbled down to his chin. He smiled, wiped the stain from his face with her hair, and slapped her. Katherine gasped as her cheek stung from the blow. A gloved hand grabbed at her breast and twisted. She winced, trying her best not to cry out.

“Should I break your bones with the wheel and weave your shattered limbs through the spokes? I’ve seen victims of this execution. They cease to be human after a few hours. Their ungodly screams of agony beg for death.” He walked around her, a finger sliding over her belly. “Should I burn you at the stake? One could live for 20 or 30 minutes while the flames roast them alive.” He slapped her on the behind, enjoying the quivering flesh. The new king shook his head. “I’m afraid I can do none of these things. Instead, I will give you a choice. Answer my questions, and you will be my concubine. You will have a station and will give birth to my sons. They will be your children to raise and nurture, a worthy goal for any woman.” His hand suddenly cupped her sex, fingering her labia. “Deny me, and you will be my slave, chained to my throne, entertaining me however I desire.”

Katherine looked away. Neither choice was a life worth living. “Kill me now,” she challenged. “It would be a mercy compared to a life with you.”

Alex the Black laughed heartily. “Slave it is!” he shouted. “But first, I will loosen your tongue.” The tall man walked toward a large wooden chest. The hinges creaked as he opened it. Katherine watched; a deep fear swelled in her being as Alex did not indicate what he would do next.

The peanut butter and jam sandwich had hit the spot. If not for knowing her impending punishment, Katherine would have drifted off to sleep in Mr. Morello’s lap. She kept quiet, thinking out a strategy to endure what was to come. Morello mentioned pain earlier. Would he slap her? No. Not today. Too easy to lose control, especially given his conundrum with Eva. She had smiled so seductively, but Kat read people well. Something was off. Something that gnawed at Alex. Briefly, Kat’s blue eyes met with Alex’s black orbs. She was scared but also confident she would endure.

The couple spoke briefly while Kat’s eyes shifted toward Eva’s form. If only she were in charge today, that was not the case. Even if Eva were her domme, the redhead would no doubt obey her husband’s every wish. Alex would have her one way or another.

Kat yawned but soon found Eva’s tongue taunting her pink nipple. Stretching out like a cat, Cassatt mewed softly at the enticing tease. The cocktail of hormones flooded her brain, and once Alex joined in, Kat was squirming on the sofa. Soft moans slipped through her lips. Cassatt would have fallen on the floor without Eva’s arms around her. The pinch and twist drew a yip from Katherine like a puppy scolded for disobedience. That wasn’t far from the truth.

Katherine rose when asked if she was ready. “Yes, sir,” she replied. Adrenaline surged from her heart, exploding throughout her body. What lesson would he teach her for cumming without permission? The conflict between her heart and mind raged to a climax.

“How dare you say I must seek your permission for anything, let alone my pleasure! It’s my body. Mine! How many women suffered and died to win what was always rightfully mine – myself … my dignity that you claim as your own. Fuck off!”

As ordered, she walked toward the chair.

“Why do I want this? Why does his authority arouse me? This is wrong.”

She stood beside the chair while the couple embraced, but Eva rejected him even in her obedience. Why? Kat wondered if such a disappointment would affect Mr. Morello’s meticulous nature. Would he slip this time and reveal his monstrous side? Before Alex confirmed her fate, Cassatt knew he would tie her to the chair. Stark blue eyes glared at the man. His words were not comforting. For the crime of enjoying herself, Katherine would be tortured with a deep need for a climax. She saw the irony in such a punishment. Did he expect her to fail?

“Yes, sir,” she said to her punishment—the only acceptable answer.

She sat down, facing the back of the chair. Alex carefully wove the silken black cord around her wrists, binding her hands behind her back. Strong hands moved her ponytail out of the way, then cupped her breasts from the back. Kat closed her eyes as taunted areolas were taunted. Her ankles were pulled back and tied snuggly to the chair’s front legs. His hand moved up her stocking-covered leg, admiring its shapely form. Her neck was bound to the chair splat, forcing Kat to hunch over. He pinched and toyed with her nipples while a hot tongue slid up her neck. Finally, Alex gently placed a black silk scarf before her eyes. Perhaps it was a point of no return. The position was uncomfortable but not unbearable. Katherine swallowed deeply, exhaling a shudder before giving the nod. Alex carefully blindfolded the woman, taking note of every movement or sound. Would this trigger her?

Once she could no longer see, Cassatt immediately began to hyperventilate. She squirmed violently until the chair nearly toppled over. Immediately, Alex began to unravel the black scarf from her face.

“No!” she countered. “I’m fine … sir.”

Kat slowed her breathing, easing herself down from the panic. She had to trust him. BDSM was all about trust and love.

“The rhino-shaped elephant tusk.”

Kat still didn’t know the specifics but understood what the trinket symbolized. Eva was right. No amount of research would have provided her with such insight. “I’m fine … Alex. I – I … trust you.” She was still scared, especially after breaking another rule, but Cassatt was ready.

“Do your worst,” she said with a defiant smile. No doubt she would regret those words, but now she understood.

A hand slid under her buttocks, teasing her labia, fondling her clit. She jerked away. Another hand rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The woman squealed. She recoiled. She moaned softly. In the corner, Eva rummaged through the trunk. What devious thing did she have in mind? Did it matter?

Trust.

Katherine Cassatt trusted these people as they tortured her; she would drink in every ounce of agony.

Eva took several objects from the upstairs chest. One by one she set them on the small bar table: a cat’s feather toy; a low-temp candle tin scented with sandalwood and vanilla; a glass of ice. She quietly moved back over to the chest, and took out a large ball gag–Alex had said, of course, that Katherine was to remain quiet. She had not complied.

“Honey?” she looked at him, holding up the object as he played with his reporter-turned-willing toy.

He looked over to her, as if startled by her break in silence, but as he regarded the gag in her hand he smirked, but then shook his head. She put it away. There were, of course, many ways to keep their dear woman quiet.

Eva closed the chest, and rejoined her husband, and her lover. Despite the incredible appeal of the sight of Kat before her, and her husband’s dark, predatory intent, Eva felt certain she existed somewhere else far away floating, no, treading in deep, endlessly blue waters–slowly sinking in some warm, imaginary paradise. Her heart pounded against her chest, though only she seemed able to hear it, and yet it was little more than far off drums, slowly growing louder. With effort, she merely tuned out everything except the people she loved.

Alex needed her here. He was giving up so much to win Katherine over. So many little sacrifices–and from a man used to getting what he wanted with guns and threats. She would not ruin those efforts now. She would not deter his gains with Kat. Not when they were so close to connecting. Really connecting. And without that? Nothing else would matter.

Besides, so rarely did she get to be domme to his dom–queen to his king–not a gift they received often. It was an exquisite and powerful feeling to share such passion on this level with a willing lover at their mercy. No. She would not ruin this. How she felt, the endless, ugly memories echoing from the darkness beyond ever louder. No. Not the time, not the place to show weakness. She chose to ignore them all. Eva would be strong. She would master this bad day. Her tragedy would not be the thing that ruined all they had worked for. They were so close to having it all: time. Freedom. Love.

Their baby.

Eva would not survive such loss a second time.

Fingernails that didn’t feel like her own traced up Katherine’s spine. Her nude body circled around the black, leather chair, facing her lover while her long, petite fingers wrapped firmly around the ponytail at the back of her head. “Enjoying yourself, sweetie?” Her voice asked, “I bet his fingers in your pussy are making you terribly wet. Do you feel like coming already?” She kneeled down, the low back of the chair forcing Katherine to a rather low and hunched form–her spine nearly perpendicular to the seat. Eva’s lips hovered just over the other woman, her warm breath teasing the woman’s nose and lips. “They say the more you think about it, the harder it is to hold back. And I know my husband–you really need something to distract yourself.”

Eva flicked her tongue out, tasting Kat’s lips, then muffling her with a deep, wet, uncompromising kiss. It felt like coming up for air. The subtle hints of sugar and peanut butter on the other woman’s tongue was something to savor, but more than that, as Eva deepend her kiss, she felt the most important thing of all: love. Acceptance. Eva almost did not make herself stop. If she could only make this moment stretch… be locked in this woman’s touch forever.

“I am in love with you.” It was not a whisper, but little more than breathless words on swollen lips.

“Lean forward a bit, and arch your back. Remain as still as possible.” Eva, as if suddenly remembering herself, stood, and reached for a single cube of ice from the glass. She slowly worked the slowly melting object down along Katherine’s spine, letting the cold drip and trickle. Once the little, slowly melting object reached the small of her back, Eva let it rest there.

It was during this that Alex had removed himself, if only briefly, retrieving what she knew to be one of his favorite tools. It was a sizable cylinder, shaped more like a teardrop, than an egg with a long looped string on the narrow end. His eyes fell to Eva as she retrieved another cube of ice, and traced it slowly down her woman’s back repeating the trail of the first. The smile he gave her lit up his entire face, a boy who just got the present he wanted at Christmas. As he slowly worked the bullet into Katherine’s vagina his eyes remained fixed on Eva, those dark, black depths promising the world. And with his masculine frame leaning over one woman to meet the other, he meant to cement that promise with a full kiss.

Dropping her gaze, she could not find a smile for him. With every fiber of her being did she love him, but today–in this moment–it felt heavy.Desperate. Passion transforming into a chain around her ankles, pulling her beneath the surface. Drums grew louder.

Alex frowned, but recovered quickly, looking at the suffering form in the chair. The woman’s body strained to keep what remained of those ice cubes in place, Eva managed a smirk as she looked at Katherine, admiring her effort, and her stubbornness.

It was Alex, though, who spoke up. “Dear Katherine, I think you know what this is.” He used the remote control to power the bullet on its lowest setting. “I am also learning that it takes more than this for you to climax.” As he said this, his finger slipped between the folds of her sex, as he only briefly stroked her clitorus, before drawing away and increasing the power of the toy, slowly, one level at a time.

“Ah, careful, lover,” this from Eva, as she saved one of the half-melted cubes from falling from the small of the woman’s back, “don’t let it fall off. Focus on one thing at a time. Let your mind go calm, and your body will obey, no matter how stressed.”

Eva took yet one more piece of ice. This time, rather than letting it trickle down Katherine’s back, she traced it over the nape of her neck, her shoulders, then slowly circling it around one areola, and then the other. With brown eyes, burning with unquenchable fire, she watched Katherine’s body’s responses. The power of the bullet slowly increased, and Eva watched the woman squirm, and moan all while trying to remain still. The woman was a fighter, and the assault of her senses was almost certainly intense.

“It is tricky, isn’t it,” Eva whispered, “see, your body needs the pleasure. It’s begging for an outlet, and when it cannot find it at one nerve ending, it will seek another. The sensations I offer you, is as much a pleasure as it is a torment, yes?”

Though the words were strained, Katherine managed her answer as Eva continued to roll the ice along the woman’s bare, bound flesh. The ice on her back had nearly melted, and yet the cool damp puddle remained. And it was Alex who found the mercy to begin lapping it up while he continued to slowly intensify and tease the woman’s vagina, his hands stroking, and squeezing her buttocks as his tongue pleasured her anywhere but where she surely needed it the most.

“Shhh, lover,” Eva cooed, taking the very last piece of ice from the glass. “Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.” As Katherine complied, Eva set that ice between her teeth, feeding it to the other woman and sealing it with a kiss.

Backing away, Eva stood and quietly took the feathered cat’s toy into her hand. “Do not let that ice fall from your lips, and do not chew it. Let it soak and dissolve slowly.”

At first, Eva merely traced one of the feathers along Katherine’s skin. She flinched, surely expecting cold, rather than soft. But, soon, she let out a breath through her teeth, and her body calmed and relaxed into the motion. Eva smiled, pleased. If she was not mistaken, it was almost as if Katherine turned her head, and could see her despite the blindfold. Then again, love did not need eyes–not when one’s spirit was already so connected to another.

“This sensation is special. It will make it easier for you to obey your master’s command.” Eva flicked the toy wildly back and forth at Katherine’s side, and even she could not help but smile as the other woman bucked and struggled and giggled with a full mouth under the tickling assault. The new torment continued for several more heartbeats until Alex stepped in, wrapping his arm protectively around the woman to keep her from knocking the chair over.

Alex looked at Eva, raising an eyebrow.

Again, though, Eva let the feathers drag over the woman’s smooth, pale skin. Though Katherine’s skin was not quite as pale as her own, it was utterly beautiful; kissed tenderly by the sun and subtly textured with fine freckles that spoke of a life well lived–exploration, adventure, going anywhere and everywhere searching for the truth as only a journalist could.

When Eva next assaulted Katherine, she kept it shorter and gave her more time to recover. And yet still, Eva could not stifle her own giggle, and was it possible that her dear lover was enjoying it? She had to know.

“Tell me dear lover, do you enjoy being tickled?” Eva smiled at the response. “I will absolutely remember this.” She assaulted Katherine again with the feather, this time at the feet, and Eva’s laugh was genuine, almost enough to….

Almost.

Masculine arms wrapped around Eva. She frowned, but craned her neck when she felt his lips brush along her collarbone. She let out a sigh, as he pulled her tight against him, and his hands roamed her body. In almost no time her nipples were hard and throbbing, and her sex wet. His fingers slipped inside her labia, and he fondled her clitorus until she let out a needful whimper. His fingers were not what she wanted. No. She felt the erection pushing through his shorts, and still she knew it would not be hers today.

Drums yet louder; pressing against her chest painfully. As she sank below the surface, she merely nodded.

“It’s time,” Eva said.

Alex exhaled, and it was not so different sounding than a wolf’s growl. But still, he tore himself away from his wife, and Eva watched as he stalked around his submissive. Eva took the burning, ready candle on the table.

“You know now not have an orgasm without my permission?” His thumb and finger held her chin gently tilting it upward toward his gaze.

He waited.

“After I give you permission, you will be welcome to orgasm as often as you wish,” Alex gave the woman time to let the words sink in as he took the tethered rope from around the back of the chair, and handed the coiled length to Eva while he began releasing the ropes around the woman’s wrists.

Eva merely smiled as she pulled a nearby stool closer and straddled it. “Brace yourself on the back of the chair,” Eva said quietly. “Stay still. There you go.” And, without warning she drizzled a bit of that wonderfully warmed oil over Katherine’s back. Even as the woman squirmed, beginning to panic, Alex was right there, running his hands over the oil, massaging Katherine, spreading it over the woman’s flesh; warming, kneading, each touch given with passion and care. As Eva poured more oil, it was Alex who spread it more, over Katherine’s breasts, shoulders, buttocks, until his fingers slipped deep into her folds, and this time when he stroked her clitorus, he did not stop until he bid the woman embrace her orgasm. And as she did, he removed the bullet, and slipped out of his shorts. And, for a time, he merely rubbed his erection between her cheeks, and let his tip play along the folds of Katherine’s sex.

“Cazzo, mio caro giornalista, anche con piacere sei glorioso e stretto!” Alex growled as he pushed himself inside Katherine, and Eva sensed the last of her husband’s self control waning, as he found a full, steady rhythm.

“Come closer, love,” Eva sighed, she tugged only hard enough on Katherine’s tether to earn her attention, and with a guiding hand, she showed the woman the exact pleasure she desired. Katherine did not hesitate to slip her tongue straight to Eva’s clitoris and work her magic. “Oh god, yes-yes-yes!”

It was not long before the lovers–a true menage e trois–found their rhythm. Katherine’s body moved with Alex’s, his body shifting positions so that his hands might more easily reach the woman’s breasts, and body. Eva had long since dropped the rope from her hands, and she realized that at some point Katherine’s blindfold had also fallen far away. The trio had grown yet closer now, Katherine kneeling up as much as she could, her lips and hands finding Eva’s breasts, her lips, her sex. Alex supported the woman, his body glistening with sweat as much as Katherine’s glistened with oil, his arms wrapped tenderly around her, while he made desperate love to her from behind.

Eva could only hold on for dear life, using all her effort to maintain her poise and balance on the stool as Katherine knew every touch, every tease to drive her body into a full, uncompromising orgasm. And it was not long before Katherine joined in the chorus, followed by Alex. A perfect union of bodies, and souls.

Arms were around her. A woman’s head pressed against a shoulder, perfect breasts heaving against hers with ever slowing, calming breaths. Eva cradled the woman, comforting her through the intense wash of emotions she was beginning to know well. Other arms joined them, their embrace shadowed by Alex’s heaving, and clearly exhausted frame. Opening her eyes, she found his gaze boring deep into her own. Tired. Intense. Pleading. Loving.

She couldn’t hold it. Easier to let herself drown. The darkness consumed her, drums about to burst through her chest. It was as she cast her gaze away from Alex, letting it fall unwittingly down Katherine’s still shaking form, that she saw the mess he had made of her lower back. Semen–his seed–a mess along her lower back. Wasted opportunity. Again.

“You did it again,” Eva heard herself say. Everything was too hot. Too loud. Too much darkness and debris pressing in “I can’t believe you did it again!”

Alex, eyes growing wide as if slapped in the face. “What?”

“You wasted it. Another opportunity gone. Done. I can’t believe you.” Eva stepped away, only distantly aware of the other woman, suddenly bereft in her husband’s arms. “You promised you would try. You promised not to avoid it anymore.”

“Eva, wait, I-”

“No! I don’t want to hear it! You promised to try! You promised to make a baby with me! I need a baby! I want a baby! I want our baby girl!”

All color drained from Alex’s face, and he hastily whispered words to Katherine to remain calm and he would handle this. Stepping away from the other woman, he stepped around to her as Eva backed up, holding up a finger in warning.

“Eva, let’s sit down together and talk.” His voice was low and calm.

Eva shook her head. “Don’t you dare come near me. So help me, I’ll… I… I can’t.”

Nothing made sense. Nothing felt real. The woman that was Eva only knew that she needed to be gone. Away. Air. The distant and far away part of Eva that still held a shred of reason cried out through the darkness–you need air.

[hr][/hr]

Fuck.

Alex rubbed his face in his hand, as he quickly turned his attention to the woman in his care. He removed the last of the ropes from Katherine. Any and all explanations failed him at that moment, instead his focus was on the care and well being of the woman in front of him. When Katherine was out of the chair, heading for the stairs, all he managed to say was “wait.”

He had not even realized he had taken his phone from the coffee table, but the message he sent Iason was automatic.

Bad day. She’ll be at the usual spot soon.

On it. She will be safe.

The first wave of his own, raw, never-to-fully-heal pain tugged at his chest, and he could not quite meet Katherine’s gaze. “Please,” he said, “take some time to clean up.” He left it unsaid, but they both knew the games of the day were done. “But, then, please come back and join me for a drink. I will-”

Echoes of the front door slamming closed two levels below rang in his ears.

“I will explain.”

She could hear soft footsteps around her, feeling their warm aura. A trunk opened then closed. Alex and Eva remained quiet while Kat studied the restraints further. The rope around her neck chaffed, but only slightly. She doubted the silk cord would leave a mark, but keeping her head up would be a struggle. Sore from other sessions, Cassatt tried to position her arms in a comfortable spot, but there was none. The best she could do was not struggle and endure the coming torture with dignity.

Katherine turned when Eva broke the silence. The redhead queried her husband about something, but the reporter heard only more silence until the trunk was opened and shut again. Alex came up from behind. His powerful hands moved along the contour of her curved flesh. Kat wiggled and squirmed. The black chair creaked. One hand cupped her naked breasts and toyed with her nipple as another snaked downward over her rump. “Ugh!” Soft cries made it clear that Kat was in for an ordeal. Had she bitten off more than she could chew? Morello’s fingers pinched and twisted her nipple, heightening her arousal. The other hand slithered underneath her sex, fondling her. Experienced digits toyed with her labia, darting inside only occasionally.

“Augh!”

Kat was dripping, nearly desperate to climax. Her mind returned to the time on the plane and Eva’s talented tongue. God. If only she could feel Eva inside her again. Even for a second. Mischievous fingers danced around her clit, but never touched the desperate spot. Kat rolled back and forth—anything to counter the arousal. Mrs. Morello came to her rescue. Sort of …

A cool finger drew upon Kat’s back. Cassatt flinched while Alex continued to torment the woman’s sex. The teasing Eva brought was something different – a promise of love. Katherine felt the same. But all her promises of love were fleeting. Eva did what her husband commanded. Even as a domme, Mrs. Morello was compliant. As ordered, Kat lowered herself and craned her neck upward, just as Eva favored the woman with a kiss. Cassatt gave into the kiss as she ached for the woman. “Ugghh!” She cried out, though she did not speak. Certainly, she would be gagged if Kat broke her silence again. The kiss lingered, Kat, tasting the woman’s tongue. Their noses crushed together. Cheeks rubbed one another. As that expression of love crossed Kat’s lips one last time, Cassatt could only silently plead for more. Her head up, mouth open, the bound woman searched for another kiss. It did not come.

“I am in love with you.”

Kat gasped. “I –” she began but stopped herself. She wanted to say the words. God, she would cum if she could utter those three little words. “Auughh!” Katherine did as ordered and leaned forward, arching her back. The pose was uncomfortable, compounded by her perpendicular position to the chair. Shoulder muscles strained. Shapely legs dug into the wood of the black chair. Kat waited for whatever Eva had in mind while Alex still teased her. The blindfold increased her awareness of every other sense, including touch. Would they drive her mad? Was that even possible? Her sex growled in need. The lack of exposure gave the reporter a false sense of security. In truth, situated a few inches above the chair seat, her vagina felt more helpless than ever.

The unmistakable sound of ice in a glass broke another silence. Kate sucked in her breath, waiting. Suddenly, a sharp sting touched her back, but within seconds, Kat felt the chill – ice. She shuddered. Her flesh crawled. The feeling toyed with her mind. Part luscious tantalization. Part pain. The ice awakened and distracted the journalist, driving her brain further from her lust-filled haze only to return her to that tormented state. Kat squirmed in the chair, her mind begging her to stop everything, but her pride and grit stood fast. She would not give in.

A line of melted ice trailed down her back, only to stop above her bum. A tempting chill turned into a stabbing cold. Kat hissed. Her muscled strained to keep the cube in place. Mercifully, Alex pulled away, but soon Kat felt a foreign object enter her. She gasped. The shape and feel of the silicone material told the bound reporter everything. Yes. She knew what the cursed thing was. Whimpering, Cassatt listened when Alex described the item.

“Do your worst,” she had challenged. Was this his worst, she wondered. No. Her body would be wracked with pain had Morello given in to his base instincts.

“Auugh!” At a low level, the toy was insidious, pulsating through her vagnial wall. Her g-spot cried out for more just as Alex fingered her clit. Her whimpering grew louder. Again, Eva taunted her. Don’t let it out. The vibrations increased. Kat thrashed and bucked. Her brunette hair tossed wickedly. “Nnngghhhh …” Were those tears forming under the blindfold? She tried to focus and stay calm but found her mind moving back to tricks learned within captivity. She couldn’t go back there, not like this. The teardrop-shaped vibe increased its torment. She had to stop. She needed the relief.

Eva offered another mercy in the form of more agony. A cold, wet cube traced her neck. She could feel the redhead’s warm hand. The cube circled her quivering skin, forcing Katherine to squirm and writhe. Moans of pleasure escaped her lips until the ice met her nipples and areola. “Uhhgghh!” Her nips were already rock hard; the ice circling her pink numbs only intensified her arousal. It was too much. Too much. Her mouth opened to say something, but no words came. She couldn’t possibly want this. It was torture. But she did. Her surrender felt right. More importantly, she enjoyed it. The teasing was nearly unbearable, and yet, it, too, felt right. Heaven and hell – a cocktail of bliss and torture hooked her like a narcotic. The vibe sped up again.

Eva queried Katherine about the bound woman’s sensations. Was the redhead learning to like her new power? Almost certainly. “Y-yes. The ice is –” The woman moaned again. The vibe must have slipped and wedged closer to the G-spot. Kat tried to wiggle it into a new position as she clenched her thighs. It could not fall out. Morello would likely deny her for the rest of the day had she let the toy slip.

Eva continued to torment the woman, ice in hand, but a heat knelt near the small of her back. It was Alex, lapping at the puddle at the small of her back. His tongue was hot and lethal. How many times had Mrs. Morello succumbed to his skill? Kat thought about that tongue around her nipples. She grew wetter. The leather seat was slick, as were Kat’s thighs – her aching thighs. “Oooooohhhh …” Kat moaned in desperation. Finally, Eva had Kat open her mouth. She waited for another kiss, but a cube of ice reached her tongue with instructions. Kat could not let it go. The ice stung her tongue as she clamped her teeth on the melting block—a challenge to add to her torture.

Small footsteps walked away from Kat as she struggled but returned with a new sensation. The woman jerked, fearing more ice, but her skin trembled at a softer touch. A feather? The first few strokes were a pleasant distraction, but soon Katherine’s skin wiggled like a worm as her sides were assaulted. Tickling? A deep fear struck Kat. If Eva tickled her, she would lose it. A memory entered Cassatt’s mind: an old college roommate, her first serious crush on a woman. Jess was her name, and she constantly tickled Kat until she almost peed herself. The softness of the feather was not enough to destroy her, but it was enough to add more torment on top of Alex’s teardrop vibe.

Had Eva used her sharp fingernails instead of a fluffy feathered toy, Kat knew she would scream. The tickling was bad enough, even through long periods of rest. Kat thrashed and bucked so forcefully that Alex grabbed her. He held her tight, disallowing her to topple over with the chair. His powerful arms were warm and comforting. Through giggles and sobs, she wanted to surrender into his embrace. An odd feeling came over her. Kat felt safe. Their trust strengthened.

“Tell me, dear lover, do you enjoy being tickled?”

“Yes!” Kat blurted out before she could think straight. Eva’s answer caused Kat’s heart to beat faster. The tickling assault continued with the journalist desperate to hold the whittled-down ice cube between her teeth while tiny giggles snuck out from her lips.

He released her. The tickling stopped, but the vibe continued. She felt Alex move away with determined steps. A moment later, Eva cooed and moaned. They made love while Kat suffered. She heard it all. The soft movement of skin against skin, kisses so soft they were barely audible but no less erotic. Kat let out a pleading moan as her desperation mounted. Every nerve in her body screamed in a cacophony of notes orchestrated by the tear-drop vibrator. Sweat had painted her flesh long ago. Every inch of the woman danced to a tune of pleasure and pain. How much longer would she stand it?

Alex spoke. His demands were simple but unbearable to hear. Was she a trained animal, only allowed pleasure at her master’s whim? “Y-yes,” her cracked voice answered. Upon an obedient reply, she was released. Kat rubbed her wrists and flexed her aching arms. More orders arrived. The reporter barely hesitated as the vibe continued its assault on her pussy. The couple moved around her. Kat tried to ascertain their position in the room, but something burned her back before she could get a fix.

“Ahh!” She almost lept out of the chair, but strong arms held her back. What was this new sensation? The scent of sandalwood and vanilla filled her nostrils. A moment of heat drizzled down her back as warmth added to her arousal. Soon her body matched her sex, warm, wet, and needing. A creaking moan slipped through her lips. Pleasure intensified. Kat became a quivering, whimpering puddle of goo teetering on the edge, ready to fall and break into a thousand pieces. Kat felt she could take no more, but she did. Alex spread the oil over her breasts. “Auugghh! I – please!” She found no mercy. The vibe … if only it could move closer to her clit. Morello’s slick fingers toyed with her nipples. Kat growled and struggled – her mind near reverting to some primitive state. She had to cum. She HAD to cum!

Alex cruelly toyed with her sex. It took every ounce of willpower for Kat to stay put. Ideas swirled in her head … her straddling the man, fucking him like a wildcat as she and Eva kissed, intensifying their love. But Morello’s hand did not stop. Kat said nothing, but her orgasm was imminent. She came in seconds; pleasure drove through her body so fiercely that Kat could only sob. The vibe was removed; she felt calm, though her body shook. Such an ordeal. Did she truly want this? Yes. She wanted this feeling, a fear wrapped up in arousal and humiliation. So many emotions and sensations were firing off at the same time. She wanted that and more.

The blindfold had slipped but allowed only sparse vision. Eva’s form moved closer, tugging on Kat’s lead. Soon, the brunette found her lips within Eva’s sex. The aroma ignited Kat further. Craning her neck as much as possible, Cassatt dove in, allowing her tongue to taste the woman who had become her lover. Twirling Eva’s folds with the tip of her tongue, Kat savored every moment of taunting her lover. Lips smacked at the woman’s sex, kissing her thighs, exciting all but Eva’s clit. Unwary, Kat felt Alex enter her. His member filled the woman, reviving her arousal. Pressed between the two, Cassatt felt their rhythm. She matched the two, all three moving as one. Her muscles ached. Sweat covered her body. Exhaustion loomed within her, tugging at the reporter, demanding sleep. Alex thrust his erection deep into Katherine, forcing another orgasm from her weary body. Kat did her best to please her lady lover, holding her on edge until her tongue rolled around the pick clitoris. She heard the redhead shudder.

Eva’s juices washed over Katherine’s face, but she lapped it up like a kitten to milk. Behind her, Alex had pulled out, but he was past the point of self-control. A tiny ember of pride welled within the journalist. Thirty-six years old, and she could still make a man lose control without trying. Hot spunk coated her back. Normally, she would have recoiled, but Kat was otherwise engaged with Eva. The moment culminated all they had endured together.

Katherine was shaken out of her lustful stupor by Eva’s cries. Her eye darted between the couple. Had she done something wrong? Something about a baby? Katherine didn’t quite understand. Perhaps she didn’t need to understand. Once Eva was gone, Alex untied the woman and begged her understanding, asking that she clean herself. Kat shrugged but was determined to follow. As much as the trio had given one another, Katherine was an outsider. Alex, with one word, made that painfully clear.

“Wait.”

It was his right, his wife, and his home. Although worried, the brunette obeyed and moved toward the nearest bath. A quick shower removed the sweat, juice, and spunk. Her mind searched for something she had done wrong. Overwhelmed, she needed to remember the cardinal rule of her profession. She was not the story.

Katherine was too close. She’d have to pull back. With present circumstances the way they were, increased objectivity would come easily. After the shower, Kat found a bed upstairs and quickly fell asleep.

Alex the Black retrieved a branding iron from the trunk and buried it in the nearby fire. Flames danced. Embers crackled. The new king turned to his bound captive, a devious smile spreading. “We’ll have a few minutes before I’m ready to mark you as my own.” Lady Katherine pulled at the ropes. Her eyes never left the long iron sticking out of the fire.

Moving with malicious intent, Alex eyed his prey. His black orbs signaled the ruler’s true nature. Grabbing her hair, Alex forced his tongue into the woman’s mouth as his gloved hand squeezed her breast. Instinctively, Lady Katherine bit into his lip. The man growled and pulled back. His hand balled into a fist, striking her in the stomach. With blood smeared across his mouth, Alex spat in her face. He hit her in the stomach again, then twice more. Katherine groaned and heaved. She coughed while drool seeped over her lip. Her eyes shut as her world became a lingering pain.

“Would you like a full day of that?” he asked his captive. She didn’t answer. Annoyed, Alex balled his first again.

“N-no …” she said. A long strand of saliva fell from her lip to her breast. Alex returned to the tire, turning the branding iron in the fire. “Almost there,” he said with a nonchalant voice. “Where do you want the brand?” he asked.

“Wh-what?”

A smirk formed across the king’s face. He moved closer to the bound woman. “Do you want it here?” he asked, squeezing her breast. “Here?” A devilish glint sparkled in his eyes as he caressed her cheek. Alex moved around the X-frame and slapped the warrior on the ass. “A nice wide canvas to work with.” But he wasn’t done. Quickly, the brute cupped her sex. “Here?” Alex shook his head. “No. Why destroy your only worth?”

He backed up, ogling her, studying Katherine’s most private secrets – her breasts, her labia, which hung a few centimeters from her sex. “Tell me the location of your queen.”

Katherine, her body trembling, looked to the side. She said nothing.

Alex grabbed the branding iron from the fire. A decorative M burned red hot. Swiftly, he moved back to Katherine, snatching a handful of brown curls. The smoldering iron grew closer to her flesh. She could feel the heat. Sweat beaded across her brow. Alex the Black hovered the orange glowing M above her inner thigh. “Your queen?” Lady Katherine closed her eyes.

Without a word, the Black King slapped the iron against the woman’s thigh. Flesh sizzled. Katherine shook and thrashed, but she made no sound. Alex removed the brand. In its place was a bloody, burnt, oozing wound.

“I’ll have someone attend to that,” the king said. The bound warrior remained silent even as tears ran down her face. Her wounded leg shook. Pain seared through her being. “You didn’t scream,” said the king, returning the iron to the fire. “Is that a challenge?” A burst of dark laughter barked through the chamber while Alex went to fetch his healer. Katherine’s heart sank. What more would she endure?

Night greeted Kat when she woke. How long had she slept? She had not bothered to look at the clock before she fell on the bed. Muscles groaned as she moved. Fresh bruises appeared on her arms and legs. Nothing serious, but they would show for a couple of days. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Kat realized she had fallen asleep in a guest room. She bolted from the bed and tore through the nearest dresser, where she found a sheer pink gown. The nightgown covered her, though barely.

Concerned, Kat took to the stairs, heading down. She needed answers to Eva’s outburst.

He sensed her when she entered the room. It was not a comfortable silence. His dark eyes, raw and red did not turn from where they gazed absently across a coffee table. A short crystalline glass rolled between his hands, filled with spirits that had not yet passed through his lips.

In the time since Kat had left their most recent affair, Alex had just enough presence of thought to clean the recreation space. Ropes had been meticulously recoiled, and placed back in the box; tables, chairs and floors wiped down. The lights had been turned down low, and now he sat on the leather sofa, dressed hastily again in the sporty casual attire from the day before.

“We were in Kabul, Afghanistan. Few years ago.” He rolled the drink between his hands as he spoke softly, tenuously, knowing the truth he was about to share was by far the greatest danger he might ever face. But it was time. It was not how they originally planned to share, but then again, such were plans. “I needed to be there for business. It was rare for her to travel with me to such places, but I did not need to be there long, and afterwards we had planned to go to our home in Italy. She promised to remain in the hotel where it was safe.”

Alex’s head dropped low. His knuckles turned white around the glass. “Too many things happened that day.

“My business. Things went wrong. I took two bullets. One in the chest, other in the shoulder. I was several kilometers away from our hotel, on some back street of Kabul. I remember little else from that moment in time, but as I lost consciousness, I watched the very hotel where I left Eva… I watched it… I saw it… fall. A bomb.

“It took rescuers seven hours to reach my wife. She suffered a serious head injury and internal injuries. I, of course, could do nothing with my own injuries. And I did not learn of her rescue for several days after. Eva nearly died. God as my witness, I would have done anything to save her… to be there…. To be so powerless and yet relieved. Hopeful, and devastated. I failed her that day, and I will never fail her again.

“There was nothing I could do for her. I was left dying in the street, and they were all alone. Trapped. Maybe dead. My own dying thought was that God would give them a place at his side in heaven. And then I woke up. Days had passed. Felt little of my own pain, or injuries. I was just barely alive when I was found by US soldiers. Because of, or in spite of my reputation, I was taken to a military hospital for treatment.

“It was only by God’s grace that she too received excellent treatment and care. And when we were stable enough, we were both transported to Germany. It was there I learned that our unborn daughter did not survive.

Fresh tears sparkled in his eyes, while his unseeing gaze focused on nothing in particular.

“Eva didn’t believe it for days. She would ask over and over again. ‘Where is my baby? Where is our daughter?’ I do not think she will ever truly recover. Or forgive me. Our baby died. It is my fault.

“Ever since that day, I have been working to secure whatever future we have. Slowly. Carefully. I have millions saved in secret accounts. I’ve been consolidating the family business, and taking precautions to make sure that we will never be found when all is said and done. I have secured enough secrets that with just a single email to the right people I can topple Empires. I am giving it all up. For her. So I can give her the one thing she wants more than anything else: a child.

“I cannot give her back our daughter. But I can give her a life free from violence and suffering. I can be her husband, and the man she deserves.” Alex wiped his nose with the back of his hand, as he set down the glass in his hand. “Anyway, I am certain you wish to go to her. Iason is with her, and he took her to his mother’s house. The woman is good to Eva, and has comforted her on these bad days before. I cannot yet go after her. She just needs time, though if you wish to go to her, Iason’s home is not far.”

Clad in her pink nightie, Kat sat across Alex in an ornate oak chair. The chair resembled the one that she had broken while attempting to free herself from bondage during her initial encounter with Mrs. Morello. Even if she did fear for her life, Kat was unprofessional that day, and a sense of shame washed over her initial bias against the couple.

As she had many times in her career, Katherine Cassatt listened, making mental notes on Morello’s words and actions. His raw voice lacked much of the power and nuance Alex commanded, but the words themselves were precise. His eyes had lost fire as he looked away, but a glimmer of hope still shined. Then, Kat realized this was not an interview but something akin to a confession. Bits and pieces of the tale had woven through prior conversations, but only now was Cassatt privy to the whole story.

As Alex continued, Kat empathized with her host for the first time. To lose a child was a pain no one could describe, and no one should endure. The reporter’s only reference point was an old college friend who had an abortion during her sophomore year. She had since found religion, and the two had not spoken in years. Eva would not fall into that hole. She was heartier, even if she had to escape momentarily. Katherine understood.

The reason for her abduction was now out in the open. Kat searched for the right word to express her feelings. But words failed her for the moment, and she could only say, “I’m sorry.”

Kat wanted to comfort the man, to ease his suffering in any way she could. Her first thought was sex, but what would she do? Give him a blow job? The awkwardness would end them both. Still seated in the ornate oak chair, her breasts visible through the sheer pink fabric of the nightie, what should have been an awkward moment was barely on Cassatt’s mind. Instead, she recounted how he initially threatened her career and had her kidnapped and tortured and how she grew close to Eva … to the point of love. More than one night, Kate wondered if she suffered from Stockholm syndrome. She dismissed the idea. The reporter knew what she had done.

The thought that hurled to the forefront of her mind was the hundreds of children killed by the bastard’s weapons. How many mothers and fathers lost their own due to his desires and greed? But Kat bit her lip. She would not hurl accusations at the man at a time like this.

“I’m sorry,” Kat said again, though she knew Morello did not want pity. “No one should endure the loss of a child.” She did want to go to Eva but remained with Alex. “What of yourself? She asked, finally grabbing a pillow to cover herself. “If there is anything I can do for you, please ask.” It was a hollow platitude, and Kat felt partially ashamed of the comment as there was nothing anyone could do to ease such heartache.

The woman stood, tossing the pillow to the couch, and sat next to him; her hand took him in a gentle grasp. Looking Alex in the eye, her lips slowly parted. “I said I will help you, and I will. This does not change that, but it helps me understand.” She squeezed his hand gently and kissed him on the cheek, a gesture far more affectionate than anything she had previously shared with the man. The two sat together in the dark for what seemed like hours.

Dressed in casual slacks and a delicate silk blouse, Cassatt took Morello’s advice to look in on his wife. The suggestion was more like an order, and Kat knew it. Alex likely wanted to be alone to process his grief without an audience.

The walk to the house was refreshing as Kat enjoyed the evening sights. Lights from the city below twinkled like stars. A mixture of colors and sounds blasted through the night, denoting an abundance of life below. She stopped at the little pastry stand again just as it was closing. The fresh smell from the morning was gone, but she did not hesitate to order a box of doughnuts. Kat ate two before arriving at her destination.

Once she was inside, Cassatt waited. Eva might have wanted to see no one. The woman of the house came back, a sad look on her face. “She is still in the bed but will see you. Maybe don’t stay too long?”

“Not a problem,” Kat said as Iason’s mother escorted her to the back bedroom. Upon entering another dark room, Kat sat the doughnuts on the dresser beside the door.

“Eva? Eva, I — Alex told me everything. May I come in? I brought doughnuts.”

Silence was everything. Alex, a ruthless arms dealer. A human monster complicit in the death of countless around the world, sat in the darkness with a woman who hated him as much as she desired him. His large hand enveloped hers; a grip that knew both the cool steely grip of a gun as much as the tender caress of a cheek. His fingers laced with hers as he was her lover, and she his savior. Katherine, whether she knew it or not, was all that kept him from drowning into his own damnation. She was exactly who he needed, when he needed her most. There would never be love between them, and that was okay. She abhorred him for not only his reputation, but for his profession–one that was, at times, as ugly as she made it out to be. She was an excellent reporter, and nobody’s fool. And yet, despite it all he sensed her respect. She treated him like a man, looked him in the eye as few others could, and she neither placated, nor minced words. He always knew where he stood with her. It was all that made her perfect for events to come–the desperate, but carefully laid plans he set in motion. That she loved Eva so much made it certain he would succeed, and secure his wife’s happiness. For that, he would always love Katherine.

“Thank you,” Alex finally said out loud, giving the only response he could muster as he brought the woman’s knuckles to his lips for a lingering kiss. But her kindness, and her hand–a quiet offer of compassion was more than enough.

It was not until the woman had left his side to comfort his wife, that he removed himself from that sofa. Quietly, he trudged down and into a small room on the first floor that served as his private office.

The room was quite small, not at all like any of the other larger rooms that served as studies or libraries. The desk was also unusually small, and simply built. A richly stained wood top, with hand-crafted legs and a small pencil drawer in the middle. Three large flatscreen monitors were neatly arranged, hooked into a large PC tower, and next to it an equally sized private server. There were no fancy pictures on the walls, nor paperweight decor. Not even a twelve-month calendar was fit to hang by a small tack on the wall. Here it was all work. All business. Not even Eva dared to enter this room, not that Alex would have disapproved. She knew the dangers of his business, and that her lack of knowledge was, perhaps, her greatest protection.

He sighed heavily as he sank into the worn dark leather chair. For a time he merely stared at the burner phone on the desk a mere reach away.

“Che Dio mi conceda la forza,” he uttered quietly as he palmed the phone, and after a few swipes put it to his ear. “SÌ. Dobbiamo parlare.”

~~~

“Where is she?”

“Where’s our baby?”

“What do you mean she’s gone? How can she just leave? She’s right here. Unborn babies do not just disappear!”

Past moments played on repeat in Eva’s mind. A torturous cycle. Pain that knew neither mercy, nor limits. Emptiness that could never be described, or explained. That would never fully heal.

She sensed Katherine’s presence even before Mama Marinos–Iason and Elpida’s mother–spoke to her at the door of their humble, but spacious home. Eva convinced herself she didn’t wish to see or speak to anyone. She wanted to be alone. To wallow in her own self pity until, if she was lucky, her own grief and misery would finally swallow her whole. Feeling nothing had to be better than this.

Doughnuts?

Even if she felt hungry, Eva hardly understood how a pastry would help her feel better.

Please go away.

The bed shifted, and Eva closed her eyes tight. Her lip quivered. When she felt the other woman press up against her, pulling her into a gentle embrace, all was lost. She sobbed. She sank into the arms that held her, and she cried. She wept until sleep overtook her and all that was left was a blissful nothing.

Eva did not quite know what time it was when she finally woke. Her eyes ached, and she didn’t wish to open them. But something was against her. Alex? No.

Katherine.

“I’m sorry.” She finally whispered, her voice drier than she would have liked, but the words were genuine. “He thinks I blame him for… what happened. I don’t, of course. It was a stupid and tragic act of terrorism. Wrong place at the wrong time. Just as he was. It wasn’t common for me to travel with him when he was on business, but at the time it was just easier. After Afghanistan, we were going to spend the rest of my pregnancy at his home in Italy. So his mom could be there when our baby girl was born.” Eva did not mention that she did not want her family anywhere near her baby.

Eva sighed. “He is afraid. He is afraid of hurting me, but most of all of having to endure such a loss all over again. He thinks this whole insane plan… giving up the business, retiring, you, disappearing into what he truly believes will be ‘happily ever after’… he thinks all of this will make us safe to have another child. That we have to wait. As if there aren’t a million other unsafe things in the world. And there’s not a single good reason not to try again now. I’m healthy, and capable of having more children. And I just can’t not try, or even wait to try. It’s torture.

“I can’t stand this feeling. This knowing that she should be here. It’s been so long, and yet I still wake up some mornings upset and confused.”

She stopped talking and closed her eyes. More time passed and Eva let herself drift and be held. She was grateful for the silence and comfort offered from her lover. No judgment. No platitudes. She loved Katherine for that.

Eventually, though, Eva would find a way to get out of this bed, and to go back to her husband to work things out. But not yet. Not when she felt just… safe. Understood. Loved.

“It is early yet,” Eva said, turning in her lover’s arms, her large brown eyes gazing up to Katherine’s in the dim lights, the barest hint of a smile parting her full lips, “but would you like to see the sun rise on heaven?”

It was, afterall, a short twenty minute drive.

The bed shifted as Katherine slid in beside Eva. The mattress was soft and billowy. The covers warm. Swallowing a tiny piece of a doughnut, Kat wrapped her arms around the woman. As with Alex, Kat did not speak. She was a warm body to hold in case Eva needed her. Almost immediately, Kat felt the bed shake from the woman’s tears. To comfort her host, Kat gently caressed the woman’s bare shoulder. She wanted to shush her as a mother would her child, to tell her it would all be better, but Kat was helpless. She could do nothing but be there and hope it was enough. But of course, it wasn’t enough. Eva needed to accept her pain. No more masquerades. No more safe words. Once again, Katherine found empathy for Alex. All his fortune and power and he was helpless against Eva’s grief. The reporter grew misty-eyed, still holding the sobbing woman.

Exhaustion took them both, though not simultaneously. Having napped a few hours prior, Katherine stayed awake while Eva drifted off. The day’s events played out in her mind in a whirlwind fervor. Sex, flesh, pleasure – it all blended. A man she loathed but desired took control. How long had she fought to gain respect as a woman only to toss her dignity into the trash? Was that even her tied to the chair? For a moment, Katherine rationalized an alter ego, a soft, frightened girl who would allow such a man like Alex Morello to control her. To fuck her – to punish her.

“No,” she whispered. The frightened girl was a fantasy. Katherine Cassatt hungered for the monster inside Morello. She called her father once a year on Christmas morning, stood in an auditorium packed with her peers and accepted a prestigious award, watched men die in war, and let this man cum on her face and back. Kat had played his games, humiliating herself, making him a sandwich. A tear ran down her cheek, realizing how much she had lost of herself. And for what? A story? A woman?

Kat turned to the clock. It read 2:00 AM. She could sneak out and leave the island. Morello’s threats were hollow by now. And she had seen him for his true self, a scared child unable to help the one person he most loved. But, no. There was no backing out. Kat needed to see this play through, even if it meant she lost Eva. Maybe she would be happy away from the danger. Moreso, as Cassatt lay in the darkness, she understood what she wanted – more pleasures of heaven and Hell. Like a narcotic, the desires called to her. Bound and helpless. The scenario frightened but also aroused the woman. Her mind drifted back to the plane before her devious host. Eva’s tongue toyed with and tortured her. Barely realizing it, Kat’s fingers found her sex. Slowly, she rubbed her folds, digging deeper into her wetness, suppressing a moan as she circled her clit. In moments, she had climaxed. One hand on her pussy. The other still wrapped around Eva.

As the climax washed over her, sanity returned. Cassatt’s world was real again, and she had a job. First, rest was required. Still drifting on the orgasm, Kat faded into sleep.

Pain! Lady Katherine wanted to scream, but she held her lips shut. Even as her injured leg trembled in agony and sweat trickled down her brow, she would not relinquish her pride again.

Alex the Black had left the chamber only a few minutes when the door opened again. A gasp slipped through her lips as her heart galloped once more.

“I see you got yourself in another fine mess,” said a lanky man carrying a basket. “Well, let’s look at that, shall we?” The gentleman, dressed awkwardly in a plain shirt with a cloth around his neck and simple but clean-looking pants, walked toward the bound woman.

“Who are you? Wh-what do you want?” she stammered.

“I’m here to patch you up, Kat. Now, hold still…” The curious man spread Katherine’s legs only to observe her wound. She looked away all the same. “That’s pretty nasty. I bet it smarts like a son of a gun.”

“D-do I know you?” she winced, afraid of where the answer might lead.

“I’m here to fix you up, just like I said.” The man knelt to his basket on the floor, retrieving an odd cylinder-shaped object. It looked like metal but was flexible, and the bright red top unscrewed like a cork from a bottle. Most remarkable was the white goo that exited the cylinder as he squeezed the weird object.

“Back in my day, this would have been methylate. Hooooo boy, did that stuff burn.”

“B-burn?”

The man chuckled. “Don’t worry, this is just Neosporin.” With his large hands, the man rubbed the substance over Kat’s burned flesh.

“Neo… New! New-sporin?” Lady Kathrine shook her head. She did not understand, but her leg felt much better.

“That should do it,” he said, groaning as he stood. “And the next time I tell you to be careful, you should be careful.” He eyed the surroundings, a shudder slithering up his spine. “if there is a next time.”

“Who are you?” Katherine demanded.

“A friend,” he answered mysteriously, leaving without another word.

The man seemed familiar as if she ought to have known him, but her mind was unclear. Fear and pain had rattled her to the core, and the monster would soon return demanding the Queen’s location.

Katherine once told her lover she’d march through Hell to protect her. There she was, naked, bound, hurt, and humiliated. She was in Hell and awaiting more torture. The door opened again. Kat cried out.

“N-no! Please!”

A dark laughter followed the sound of boots as Alex approached. She imagined he would have a whip, a breast ripper, or worse, but the man carried nothing in his arms.

“I will ask you one last time. Where is the Queen?”

Trembling, nearly sobbing through the terror, Lady Katherine closed her eyes and turned away.

“So be it.” Slowly, Alex the Black stepped close to his prisoner. With his black leather glove, he found her sex and rubbed her gently, softly as a lover. “I am going to fuck you. I am going to fuck you and fuck you, and fuck you until you are with child.” He rubbed her labia back and forth as his thumb toyed with her opening. “Soon, you will beg me to take you, and I will,” he cooed with a delighted grin. “The body does not lie.”

The pleasure moved from her sex to her thighs and abdomen. Tiny moans slipped through her lips, betraying her pride.

The gloved hand thrust two fingers deep into Kat’s vagina. Alex the Black had the woman thrashing within moments, massaging her walls and hitting just the right spot.

“And once you’ve bore my child, you will love him because that is who you are.” Faster and faster, he finger fucked her. Deep groans howled through the dungeon as she neared climax.

“No. Not like this. Not – not this!” She shut her eyes tight to force the pleasure away.

Alex the Black rested his lips upon her ear. “And every day, you will see me in his eyes. You will love me.”

Kat looked in the mirror. Another nightmare. She glanced out of the window. The sky was bitch black. What time was it? She didn’t bother to check. Eva was still in bed asleep.

During her time with Morello, Kat learned that Mrs. Morello slept late and often awoke alone. Not today, Kat thought and climbed back in the bed. Wrapping her arms around the woman again, Kat hoped not to wake the sleeping beauty. She did not.

Kat had nearly dozed off again when Eva finally stirred. She said nothing as the night before and allowed the redhead to wake in her own time.

“I’m sorry.”

Kat answered with a smile, holding the woman’s hand as she spoke. As with her husband, Katherine listened. Her arms wrapped around the delicate woman, almost cradling her. For a moment, Kat was content to lay in the bed with her lover. They could hold each other all day. She’d be happy with that. But, no. She had a job to do. So did Eva.

“I would love to see the sunrise from heaven. Would be the second most beautiful thing I’ve seen today.” Kat smirked. “But afterward, we need to stop somewhere. Believe it or not, I’m hungry again.”

Sunrise, and heaven could wait.

Eva, helpless to her own desire, brought her lips to Kat’s. What started as tender, a simple display of love and affection turned into far more. Hands roamed against bare flesh, followed by lips. Eva found herself staring at the jawline, planting rich, amorous kisses down the woman’s neck, collarbone, and finally towards the woman’s breasts. Eva suckled and tugged at one breast, enjoying the feel of the little bud hardening from inside her mouth as her fingers roamed further down, her slender fingers slipping between the folds of Katherine’s sex.

Kat bit her lip, stifling a moan. Eva smirked pridefully as she brought the woman right then and there with a mere touch, leaning forward again to seal such ecstasy with a kiss. She took that moment, gazing deep into that woman’s starry blue eyes, knowing how her own glistened with burning unshed tears. I love you.

The next moments were a blur. In one moment, Eva was lost in endless blue eyes, and the next the legs were spread wide, and modeled around one another. Katherine’s leg draped purposefully over her shoulder as Eva arched her back, and pressed her sex against the other woman’s. So much heat. Yearning. She rolled her hips, and Katherine was right there to meet them as their most intimate parts were as one.

Everything fell into place. Beauty surrounded both women as the first rays of the sunrise illuminated the small room–a moment made so perfect, and not because of the pleasure. Eva finally understood her own misery. She did not simply mourn the loss of her baby girl, or Alex’s insistence that they wait to have another child. She understood his own feelings of loss, and she respected his fears of having to survive it again.

But he stole her choice away. All her life, choices were denied her. Growing up, Eva could not choose to be a child. She was not allowed to choose her friends, her education, or hobbies, or even her own future–for a lifetime her mother took choices away in a pursuit toward a perfection she could never hope to achieve. Her love for Alex was the first thing she ever chose for herself, and from the moment she set eyes on him, she knew she would always choose him.

At least she thought she would.

Eva’s breath quickened, and when she came, she understood how important this moment was: she chose this. No games. No roles. She wanted the woman joining her in the throes of orgasm. To share in her hopes and dreams, lounge in bed, or in the sun by the sea, caring not for tomorrow, but loving the moment. This woman would always love her back, and more importantly, this woman would respect her back. Let her choose, even after all she and Alex had done to her.

At some point, Eva found herself on her back, her body rocking in the most exquisite turbulence as she came not once, or twice, but–oh god–three times at the hands of the woman she loved.

Heaven had a new home.

The mid-morning sun made the rather small guest room far more bright and cheery than it had been even an hour ago, with cream-colored stucco walls around a dark wood floor that had only grown richer with age. The women, though not speaking much were no more than a step from one another as they dressed for the day. Eva, with a renewed twinkle in her eye, promised to take Katherine to Cyprus’ prized Mount Olympus–Chionistra–as soon as time would allow. She knew of at least three vantages where the sunrises were utterly breathtaking.

However, at Katherine’s repeated insistence, they instead bid Mama Marino a heartfelt thank you, to which the woman hugged Eva tightly, speaking soft motherly words–in Greek, of course. She merely smiled and gave Katherine a simple nod of respect although the small smile hinted toward the old woman knowing much more than she said.

Eva only smiled and hugged her lover as her requests for breakfast turned from desperate to urgent. She took the woman’s hand and held it tightly as Iason drove them to the only worthy spot on the island for a decent breakfast: Aristoklis Traditional Brunch.

The menu was rather small, but Eva used her limited knowledge of Greek and ordered a full platter, more than enough food for them both. It took only ten minutes for their breakfast to arrive on a large platter of natural wood: a well decorated array of seasonal vegetables, fruits, cheeses, and a lovely row of grilled ham. In front of each woman, the server places two pieces of toasted artisan bread with a sunny-side egg on top.

Eva had scooted her chair as close to Kat as possible, and she was grateful the garden chair was large enough for her to pull her legs up, and she rested her head on the other woman’s shoulder contentedly. Though the eggs looked tempting, she was far too comfortable to want to move. Instead she reached for a slice of ham, and slowly tore a small piece off with her fingers before popping it into her mouth.

“Mother kept me on a strict diet for most of my life. I still have trouble eating too much at one time.” She tore another piece of ham away, and chewed it slowly. “It’s funny, I ate more food when I was on coke, than when I lived with that woman. I craved french fries all the time. A lot of other girls I knew back then did coke to lose weight. I only started using to keep up with her demands. And when I was high, I just quit caring. I felt strangely free.”

She finished the ham, and moved on to a piece of zucchini, neatly cut in raw halves. “You wouldn’t believe it, but despite being Italian, and his love for cooking, Alex actually hates pasta. The first time he cooked for me, I actually cried, because I was so worried that he had spoken to my mother. My tears mortified him, and after I told him what I was afraid of, he smiled, and made me a plate of shrimp scampi. I felt a little bit sick later, but I ate every bite. God I loved him for that.”

Eva spoke more as they ate, sharing tales of her childhood, horrible as so many were, and yet there was a lightness in her voice. She normally shied away from such stories, not wanting to revisit the years spent in constant fear, and yet she felt incredibly free being able to speak of her years spent in varying degrees of sadness and fear, without such emotions rearing their ugly heads. That had never happened before.

Eva lifted her head, and looked up at Kat. “What was your childhood like?”

Limbs tumbled between the sheets. Flesh met flesh, sweaty and awkward. Kat giggled. Both she and Eva kissed. Pouting lips kissed her jaw, neck, and breasts. Kat shivered and withheld a moan as long as she could, awaiting an order that never came. Instead, she felt a sweet surge cover her like a warm blanket from a lover as Eva’s lips and tongue explored her breasts and buds.

With long, slender fingers inside her, Katherine wanted only to lie there and feel the heat caress her, but in moments, she went over the edge. Deep brown eyes, neatly like black pearls, drank from Kat’s blue. And for an instant, they lived a lifetime together.

Kat traced Eva’s face with her finger, capturing every curve and line. She softly kissed the woman’s palm, lightly tracing the lines with her tongue before sliding a finger over her lips. Sucking on the digit, Cassat laced her finger between Eva’s wet heat. The female body had so many buttons to push and levers to pull to elevate pleasure. And Katherine prided herself on finding the right spots. Eva crescendoed quickly, but both wanted more.

The bed swayed while Kat and Eva read the other. Soon, each baptized the other in a fevered frenzy, and the two women lost themselves in desperation. Grunting, moaning, sweating – the expression was primordial. Two women, powerful in their ways, knew each other as no man could. This coupling was more than sex for Kat. This hot, wet, and messy communion was a meeting of mind and body. It was acceptance on the most intimate level.

Somehow, Kat felt Eva climax, but neither sparked a thought to stop. Legs intertwined, arms holding on to the other, these women found something in their bliss – acceptance.

After three organs, Katherine fell back into the bed, exhausted. Her body was sheened with sticky sweat. She couldn’t think or form words from her lips. Was this what it felt like to see God? Katherine lay on the bed, mumbling something under her breath. Was she speaking in tongues? The woman chuckled. No. Her words were Latin.

Latin phrase.

Their union was an impromptu moment that solidified something greater than Alex, Eva, or Kat. After everything she had endured, Katherine found a love she couldn’t lose. Nor could she keep this bond. For a moment, terror engulfed her. She wanted to run away. But, no. She couldn’t leave Eva. One look toward the woman and Cassat was calm again. Katherine smiled, enjoying the sunshine on her lover’s face.

“That was…” The journalist found herself at a loss for words, or maybe words were insufficient. Kat leaned gently across to Eva and kissed her softly.

Kat watched while Mama Marino comforted Eva like a daughter. The journalist felt like a third wheel and politely stood off to the side. Mrs. Morello had spent the night before. Cassat was not surprised by Alex’s temper. Not that he would raise a hand to his wife. Never. His sharp tongue was likely a far more deadly weapon.

The island was beautiful. Katherine allowed herself to enjoy the ride, peaking every so often at the dim light to the east. It would be another hour before sunrise. The two had plenty of time.

“I’ve always had a healthy appetite,” Katherine said, hugging her lover. “I take after my father in that regard, except he could eat a gallon of whipped cream daily and never gain an ounce of fat. Me? I run it off.” Kat patted her belly once. “I’ll need to start jogging if I stay here much longer.” Cassat’s stomach growled, which gave everyone a good laugh.

Silence fell in the back seat. Kat watched the houses and businesses go by. Some had the lights on, ready for the day. Events of the morning replayed in Katherine’s mind. She could feel Eva’s skin and taste her scent. The sheets were soft, and the walls bright. Sex. Love. Union. It was a fairytale; who wouldn’t want that for a life? The yearning clawed at Kat, invading her thoughts and heart. The car pulled into the parking lot, snapping Katherine out of her daze. She gave Eva a sated smile, her brain and stomach prepared for food. “I can’t wait,” she said, her hand on the door handle. Breakfast would be the distraction she needed.

The vegetable tray looked scrumptious, and Kat forced herself to appreciate the artistry before tearing into the offerings. Used to eating on the run, Cassatt folded the toast and egg, devouring it quickly while Eva cuddled next to her. The level of affection and familiarity was unexpected, though not unwelcome.

While Kat sated her appetite, she hung on Eva’s every word. Never had she heard the woman speak so freely of her painful past. Katherine wasn’t surprised that Eva did drugs in her youth. The way she described her mother, it was a necessity. But it was odd how relaxed Eva appeared. It was like watching an exorcism as Eva expelled such traumatic events into the open. But Kat never noticed a tear or a quiver in the woman’s voice. The porcelain redhead who tiptoed around her husband was gone for the morning.

“My childhood?” Kat let out a chuckle at Eva’s question. “Well, I suppose my mother and your mother would have gotten along nicely, though mine knew the value of positive reinforcement as much as negative. She had many regrets – things she could not accomplish, so, naturally, I had to fulfill that niche.” Her mother dreamt of being a ballerina and enrolled Kat in the Royal Ballet School. “I enjoyed it for a while, though our instructor was a bit like a marine drill sergeant.” She laughed between bites, digging back years into her childhood memories. Some good. Some not. Like any child.

“My father was a man’s man with a 19th-century sensibility and, fortunately for me, a soft spot for his little girl.” Her smile widened. “We stalked a deer one fall, and I remember how proud he was when I picked up on the clues – a bent branch, deer tracks, their favorite food source. I nailed it all. When we finally caught up with it, a prized buck with majestic antlers, I lined the shot and squeezed the trigger as I was taught.” Kat rolled back with laughter. “I missed it by a mile. I was a good shot but couldn’t bring myself to kill it.”

Her smile dimmed. Kat placed her napkin on the wooden tray. “Mum died when I was 14 – a skiing accident. She could infuriate me with lessons in etiquette, making me balance books on my head or quizzing me on proper culture. But she was also my best friend. We’d play piano together. She helped me plant a garden and watch nature grow. She taught me to be a strong woman and never think less of myself.” Kat took a sip of coffee, a faraway look in her eye. “And I will miss her deeply until the day I die.”

“I am glad that you had such a loving relationship with your mother, Katherine. I am sorry you had to say goodbye at such a young age.” Eva’s words were genuine, but as always such comforts were rarely adequate. Sympathy was never something all that helpful to those who knew the pain of untimely loss. The words so often had a way of coming across as hollow. Even when intentions were pure, it always felt like more an obligation on the part of those who wanted the grieving to feel better so they themselves did not have to feel so bad. Still, Eva meant her words, while imagining herself in Kat’s shoes as a child. She wondered what it would have been like to play the piano with her mother, or go on an adventure with her father. It was a pleasant enough dream, at least.

She smiled, happy for her woman.

Eva laced her fingers with Kat’s. Their meal was complete, and the women merely waited for the bill and their leftovers to be boxed. Though Katherine ate far more, there was still plenty leftover for snacks throughout the day. Soon it would be time for both to return home. To face the man waiting for them. But, Eva did not dwell on that yet, although, regardless of their differences, and all the grief between them, more than anything she wished to be in her husband’s arms. And Kat’s. Alex was her rock, and she would never wish it any other way. And Kat? Her soul–a brave, lone, candle in the darkness leading her home.

Eva only hoped that one day she too would be strong like the woman by her side.

~~~

“No. That’s not going to work.” Alex barely managed to keep his calm as he paced back and forth in his tiny office. His words, and his tone varied as he worked. One call led to an email, and an email to another call. So far since the sun rose, he had meetings and teleconferences in Italian, English, and Russian. His Japanese sucked, so he worked through email, and middlemen.

“Damn-it, it will be fine… I know, I know… but we can still have the money wired to the off-shore account in the Caymans, it’ll be…” He cursed in Italian, “just have the shipment ready to cross into Russia at Heihe. Just bribe the portmaster. The one that works third shift. Tell the Yakuza that everything will arrive on time as planned. Also, make sure to have our gift ready- yes, the bottle of the 2005 Rinaldi. That should appease them… Good.” He ended the call and tossed his mobile onto the desk.

The silence that came after was, as many often said, “golden.” Alex closed his dark eyes and took a deep breath. Assuming his operation with the Yakuza went smoothly, and if Katherine could successfully work her journalist magic, he and Eva would be free and clear to live out the rest of their lives in peace and quiet. New identities, and a humble dwelling in a quiet countryside. He always teased her that once this goal was achieved they could have ten children. Right now, he would be happy with one.

The tears that threatened anew–a sure weakness for a man such as him–managed to remain unshed. And as he heard the front door open and close he could feel the tension leave his neck and shoulders. With another deep breath he rubbed the sorrow off his face and went to greet his wife and her lover.

“Alex?” He heard Eva call. But he was already in the archway when she turned toward him.

Eva’s fiery waves sat mussed and imperfect around her delicate face, but he did not lie to himself. She could be wearing a mud-crusted burlap sack and still be the sexiest woman alive. In this moment, the plain white sweatshirt hung just off one shoulder, exposing that forever delectable collarbone. Her breasts, though full and rounded, somehow always held their form, even without a bra, and he could still spy every curve under the cotton-blend fabric. The yoga pants she wore, plain and gray, seemed painted over her hips legs just enough to make him want to peel them away and take her right there in the entryway.

He had no more than a few seconds to appreciate his wife’s homecoming before her arms were around him, and his around her. She held him tight, her face planted squarely against his chest. And he too could only smile and plant a slow, tender kiss to the top of her head. If he could never fully tell her how much he loved her, he would, by God, show her.

When she finally lifted her head, her cheeks stained from fresh tears, they both uttered their apologies in unison. They sealed their sincerity with a kiss. As man and wife, they were united in their grief of losing a child, just as they were united in their opposition of when to try again. But, none of that would be solved now. They had fought, and they would surely fight again. Although now with fresh wounds in the open Alex was certain their next heated discussion would occur in their bedroom–as was their mutual preference and custom. As public figures, they both understood the risk of paparazzi hiding in the bushes.

“I am sorry,” Eva started to say, looking up with those ever endless doe eyes. But he merely stopped her with a kiss.

“No,” he whispered, his lips still touching hers, “you have nothing to be sorry for. I am in the wrong. I handled things poorly. Let my fear dictate my choices. I will work on that.”

“I forgive you,” she said, “I know you lost our baby girl too. I will work to be more understanding and patient.”

Alex smiled, and held her close, knowing his wife better than anyone. She was a good woman, but patient was not in this woman’s vocabulary. Like a kid in a candy store, Eva would always rush headlong to the thing she wanted most, and never stop until she had it. As much as Eva hated her own mother, she was, if nothing else, a product of her upbringing.

His eyes strayed to Kat, as the woman hung back, giving the couple time for their moment of reconciliation. He merely offered her the slightest of nods. The look he gave her was one of pure love and gratitude. Yes. Love. He brought Eva back to him. Eva loved the other woman and Kat made her happy. Regardless of their own rivalry and competition, Alex found himself making space in his heart for her.

“Eva, love,” Alex looked back down at his wife, reaching up to gently wipe her tears away, “I know you and I have much to discuss, but if you do not mind, Katherine and I need to talk business. If all goes well, then, perhaps in as little as a week…”

Eva smiled, her eyes going wide and bright. “Are you serious?”

He smiled and nodded. “Si.”

Eva kissed and hugged him again, before taking her leave, mentioning a desire for a long hot bath.

When she was gone, Alex looked at Katherine, taking in her own unique look in the casual, yet professional slacks and blouse. It was different–always “on” and ready for a story. This woman was not Eva; both women were so completely different, and yet as he stood across the space from her, he found her looking utterly sexy. He could tell by the lady’s own somewhat disheveled look that the women had enjoyed time together.

Slowly, he closed the distance between them, not unlike a wolf stalking his prey. But, rather than attack he merely wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. He kissed her forehead. “Thank you, mio caro giornalista. For taking care of her. For loving her.” For that and many other little things, I will always love you.

He looked down at her. In that moment he could have kissed her. He wanted to kiss her. But, he knew that it needed to be her decision. Alex doubted the three would ever find themselves as a complete ménage à trois. Kat would never love him; not in any way that would work. And that was okay. Her respect, and her passion, for now, could be enough.

“Come,” he said, still holding her, “if all goes well, in 72 hours, my final deal will be complete. I will be ready to shut down the business permanently.”

He kept her hand in hers, and he guided her to his small empty office. With a gentlemen’s bow he offered her the only chair in the room, the one that also gave her full, and unfiltered access to his computer, and every dirty little secret within. Both his, and his associates.

Waiting on the bill, Katherine couldn’t help but notice the pain that lingered in Eva’s eyes – pain mixed with yearning, like a whipped pup seeking approval from the master who punished her. Perhaps that wasn’t fair, and this was simply an eccentric couple going through a difficult patch. The focus of their pain was enough to drive people apart. Kat had seen such collateral damage.

Maybe the journalist was jealous. Kat searched inward as she watched Eva sway back to the table. Yeah. She was jealous. Her subconscious had transformed Alex into a cliched villain to haunt her dreams. Oddly, those dreams became bitter nightmares interlacing with the couple’s problems. Even her subconscious knew Katherine didn’t want a child just yet, especially not with an arms dealer on the run.

After Eva paid the tab, Kat took her lover by the hand, and the two returned to the car. Once in the backseat again, the two cuddled, talked, and laughed. Cassatt had never seen Eva so carefree. With a nibble on the neck, Kat promised the redhead more than just a heavenly view from Mt. Olympus.

The car stopped at one of the three vantage points Eva had planned. With a cliffside view, the women could practically see the entire island and the deep blue Mediterranean.

“Why don’t we sit for a moment?” Kat suggested. A railing prevented tourists from straying too far toward the edge; otherwise, Eva and Kat would have happily tempted fate and dangled their legs off the cliff.

“It is beautiful,” commented Cassatt as she viewed the deep reds and yellows rising above the island. “I can see why you chose Cyprus. It is damn near heaven.” A mischievous glint sparkled in Katherine’s eye as she pulled Eva close. The two kissed deeply before the reporter slid her hand behind her lover’s back. “Lay down,” Kat said. Her tone was gentle but firm. For this moment, the roles had reversed. As Eva did as instructed, Kat rolled up the woman’s white shirt, planting soft kisses on her abdomen. Heated breath hovered over Eva’s navel and tummy until a burning, wet tongue glazed over her flesh. Kat licked the woman’s belly button, stealing giggles from the redhead. Kat laughed along with her as she explored lower.

“Watch the sunrise,” Cassatt said in a more commanding voice. Long, delicate fingers with short but well-manicured nails tugged at Eva’s gray yoga pants, pulling them slowly down. The brunette’s lips and tongue traced the panty line, teasing the porcelain skin. With her teeth, Kat lowered Eva’s panties in an awkward ritual. Both women shared a laugh before Morello was fully exposed.

“Part your legs, please, and enjoy the sunrise.” Once Eva complied, Kat couldn’t help and teased the woman further. A firm tongue traced the slit but did not enter. What were once delicate moans gradually increased in desperation. Kat rubbed her hands together briskly, warming them before tickling Eva’s thighs. She continued the tongue action, tormenting the redhead, forcing her to squirm and groan loudly.

Once the sun had fully risen, Kat darted her tongue deep inside Morello. A finger snaked through the pink folds bound for the needy woman’s clitoris. Barely touching Eva’s pink nub, Kat further tortured her mistress, orchestrating deep moans born of need. A wide smile touched Kat’s face while the woman under her squirmed. Even more, she was on the cusp of begging, but Cassat would spare her that humiliation. Instead, Kat lapped at Eva’s wet, hot sex, devouring the pink flesh. In moments, Eva climaxed. Kat held her lover, kissing the woman through her orgasm.

Tasting her neck, Kat watched the sunrise; the burning colors began to fade. “We should head back,” said Kat and helped her lover to her feet. The women held one another a final time. Their curved silhouettes melded into one figure against the fire of the sun.

Standing to the side, Katherine never felt more like a third wheel than she did as Alex and Eva comforted one another. The reporter wondered if their almost sickening cooing over one another was the norm after an argument. Eva had left dramatically. Kat laughed as she seemed to be inside a Spanish soap opera. Of course, Kat was just as guilty with her angry eyes poised upon Alex. She was the other woman, and all three knew it. Kat also knew Alex could whisk Eva away in an instant.

Hands in her pocket, Cassat waited, gazing at the exquisite furniture in the hallway leading to Morello’s office. She wondered what happened to the rhino head carving.

With Eva gone to a long, hot bath, Katherine found herself alone with Alex again. He was an imposing man that she loathed and desired. As Morello drew closer, she expected an order or some form of commentary on Eva’s frailty. Instead, for an instant, she felt he wanted to kiss her but hesitated. Despite her unorthodox way of arriving at the villa, Mr. Morello respected Kat as a journalist. Now, it seems, he respected her as a woman. Katherine stood on her tiptoes and kissed Alex deeply. She wondered if he could taste his wife on her tongue. The thought made her wet.

“It reminds me of my office,” Kat said as she entered Alex’s inner sanctum. “And I bet you know where every file, disc, and tape is hiding,” she further remarked, motioning to the endless clutter.

Katherine took the offered seat directly in front of Morello’s laptop. She wondered how many lives were ended or ruined by the keyboard in front of her. Of course, she remained silent on such opinions.

“Are you sure this is what you want for Eva and yourself?” She glanced upward, meeting Alex’s calculating eyes. “Once you begin down this path, there is no going back.” Her fire-blue eyes gazed into the man beside her. Satisfied that Alex’s motives were evident and that he had no regrets, she moved on. “This must be like any good story and grab the audience’s attention. In this case, the audience is the authorities; therefore, we need a big name to dangle in front of them—preferably someone they are investigating but can’t quite get. And we need this mystery gun runner’s who, what, when, where, and how. Our information should be accompanied with verifiable information so they know we are serious.” Kat then sifted through the names, a slight smirk on her face. “But we can’t give them everything off the bat. We need a cliffhanger, something to whet their appetite.”

Katherine delved deeper into the data, jotting down notes with a harsh dispassion. “This guy, Mark Chadwick. He’s a small timer and partially legitimate; however, most of his trade was with the US in the early 2000s.” She rubbed her eyes and continued. “This will present a problem as we continue. Many of your rivals have friends in high places – politics, governments, corporations, certain authorities, and even religious connections. And they will use those connections against your accusations and as revenge.”

Kat took his hand. “I’m sure you have a plan for Eva and yourself to disappear. Nevertheless, your information must be 100% airtight. There can be no wiggle room for a crafty lawyer.”

Kat took a break, allowing Alex to absorb the information she laid out. Sitting in the chair, with the laptop illuminating her face, Cassatt shuddered. “If … if I were to release this information anonymously, it would lessen your case. However, if my name is known, I will become a target.” She’d faced danger before; every journalist knew their lives could be forfeited while uncovering a story.

“Once I’ve released the information, I will turn myself in as an accessory after the fact. Hopefully, I can cut a deal, but the authorities will want their pound of flesh, as will your rivals. I’m confident the Scotland Yard won’t torture me. Your rivals will.”

Alex paced behind Kat. His bulky arms crossed his chest while his thumb and knuckle sat intently across his lips. Chadwick was no one of consequence. The dealer had connections to the US and his knowledge of American Politics made him useful, but that was about it. Selling him out would stir the pot, certainly, but it would not give him the media frenzy he needed.

Turning on his heel, he suddenly towered over Katherine’s shoulder. He reached around her, his arm brushing against hers. With his finger on the laptop’s touchpad, he scrolled through the spreadsheet that served as his master list, with links to files, articles, and most importantly, financial documents.

“James, no. Kovac, no. Rostami, no. Diaz, definitely not.” He rifled through another several names. “We could be bold, and go after Senator Peters. He’s not a dealer, not strictly, but he’s well known to men like me. Has made countless deals under the table. Takes bribes to help smooth operations to benefit the United States, and himself. Anything he can get away with he does, and uses it to fill his campaign coffers, and keep the international scene just as he wants it. And the things he can’t get away with? Well, by the time anything gets to trial he’s ready for it. He’s got, as you say, crafty lawyers, and well, he can make or break media. Any story you spin, he’ll twist it. But, implicating him with my associates? Well… I know for a fact he has deep ties with Tresillo…” Alex cursed in Italian. “I’d get the distraction I need to make Eva and I disappear, but you’re right. You’ll be in the crosshairs, and if you seek safety in prison many of these people may still be able to come after you.”

Sighing heavily, he stepped around to face Kat.

He leaned against his own desk, each hand gripping the edge lightly, while his dark eyes bored into Katherine. “You winding up a target, or going to prison was never part of our deal. It is not acceptable, and we will find another way.”

Alex continued. “My primary need is a distraction big enough so when my wife and I disappear that we do not make headline news. And any investigations are quickly concluded. The only other way I can see doing that, if you do not think we can use the information on my drives without putting you at risk, then perhaps we can arrange for your very public, and daring rescue for you. I, however, assume, given your history, that may not be as pleasant for you. But, as a victim you would be protected, and you’d likely end up with the story you wanted in the first place. And, since at that point I’ll no longer be in the picture, I would not care what you write about me.” Alex’s lips twitched in what passed for a rather sad, but ironic smile. “One can appreciate the symmetry.”

But, truth be told, that plan posed as many risks as the others. They both knew it.

[hr][/hr]

Eva wandered about her own bedroom. The bright european oak floors ran the length of the room covered by a large creamy shag run that Eva always loved to scrunch with her toes. Most of the room was balanced with equally light natural wood furniture, all set against the dark textured black and gray panels of the high accent wall to give the room just that little hint of modern contrast. She had forgotten how much she liked this room; a perfect balance of dark and light. Fancy and casual. Alex and Eva.

Had this space truly become so alien to her? Did she not just sleep here only… no. It had been over a week. Odd. She counted back the days in her head, but as unfocused as her thoughts had become, she had lost count of the days since arriving with Katherine, a woman she dragged here in chains. A woman she had selfishly hurt, and yet somehow managed to fall in love with her all the same. More than that, Katherine fell in love with her too–something Eva was not sure she had earned, or even deserved. Sighing, Eva decided to consult a calendar later. And the mere realization that she had not slept in her own bed–sharing nights with her rather than Alex left her feeling more agitated than calm.

And yet, how Katherine had made her watch that wonderful sunrise… knowing exactly where, and how to touch her on that park bench to drive her wild… Eva did not think she would ever stop coming, her groans echoing back at her from the valleys below. Even now she yearned to feel the other woman’s touch. Her body shifted excitedly at the notion.

She ran her fingers along the length of the made up, untouched bed, the soft blue coverlet looking as smooth and silky as it felt. Stepping lightly toward one of the vintage solid wood end tables, she spied the carved rhinoceros horn. Sighing she sat on the lonely, forgotten bed and took the horn into her hands. Her fingers traced lightly around the soft curves of the carving meant to be a lotus. A delicate flower that floated on the calm, still pond. She imagined that flower sitting under the sunlight, relaxing. Free. But also tethered, stuck in place to always look beautiful, but never to move, or to roam free. It would never sense the stalking tiger in its midst, a predator with no cause to stalk up and pluck the delicate beauty from all she had ever known, and yet doing it anyway. Did the tiger save that flower? Or did he merely tether it in a new, far more turbulent existence?

Eva’s skin felt flushed from the near scalding, steamy waters where she soaked for far longer than seemed healthy. And now she sat in the elegant sunlight room alone in nothing more than a white kimono adorned with designs of large printed flowers giving the sleek article a sense of ombre shades from white, to gray, to black. She let the fabric hang loosely from her shoulders, her bare body peeking out as she gave time for her heated body to cool. And yet she did feel cold. And hot. And happy. And sad. How she felt on this island: safe and loved–a sensation almost foreign to her. Alex, the love of her life, was here with her, after weeks and months of busy schedules. For over a year now, they only saw one another about once every other week or so, and after no more than a night, maybe two, one would be needing to head out again to meetings across the world, or in her case some fancy charity event. Did they lose their relationship somewhere in all that? Did she fall in love with Kat, and forget to stay in love with Alex?

No. No. Definitely not.

Eva Morello loved her husband. Despite and because of their hard work, and busy schedules. All of it led to this strange, and utterly complicated vacation. This fateful trip where Katherine Cassett would save them from Mr. Alexander Morello’s horrible, and downright amoral career. He promised to get them both out of his ugly career, and manage to live–really live. Of course, this also meant an end to her charities; an end to their lavish lifestyle. Any wealth they had left, would be pennies compared to what they had now. It would be a simple life. One home. Period. And they would never be able to safely travel ever again. And, most importantly, they could live safely, truly, and without any fear of having a child. Sounded like heaven.

But she was tethered. To Alex. To the life she chose. A life she wanted. Eva’s heart swelled, a new pain forming that she never expected, and certainly never planned. It would be a life without Kat.

Unacceptable.

And suddenly, she began to realize that somewhere in all this she became the tiger. She stole her own delicate, yet utterly strong, powerful, and infinitely sexy flower and tethered it somewhere it did not belong. And that made her a hypocrite.

The young woman, all of 29 years old, suddenly felt tired. Old, even. Her face fell and as her head lowered she quickly pressed her palms into her eyes. No. No more crying. She’d done enough of that. Eva was tired of crying. Of being soft-spoken, and patient, and understanding. She always had to wait. To do what was expected. She was smart, and capable. And, thanks to her husband, she knew exactly what she wanted from this life. Still, even on Alex’s arm, her favorite place in the world, she had to maintain elegance and grace; be subtle and dutiful. She had to be the public face of Morello, with him as well as for her own charities.

Turning her head, she peeked back over at that stupid horn. She stared at that tiger stalking around the lotus. A new emotion started rising up. Anger born of exhaustion. Eva Morello found herself tired of her unwavering duty and deference. She was, now, just as weak as she had been growing up under her mother’s cruelty. When, or better yet how, did a person decide they had had enough? She was tired of always feeling sad. Of being afraid. Damn it all–she was tired of always being tired.

The bed, then, shifted beside her. A large sun-kissed hand fell to rest upon her thigh. Eva did not hear Alex enter, and automatically her hand fell upon his, grateful that he was here.

“A cosa stai pensando?” He took her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. Eva sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“About you. Kat. Me. Everything.” It was the truth.

“Vieni qui.” He pulled her into his lap then, shifting himself back onto the bed, Eva suddenly found herself straddling her husband. A place she realized she desperately longed to be. He opened his mouth to speak more, but she did not give him the chance. Her lips fell upon his, and she kissed him like the drowning woman she was. Eva was tired of talking anyway, and she let their spirits make up for their recent argument in a way no spoken apology could ever honor.

Desperate hands tugged at Alex’s shorts, and at some point they disappeared entirely. Licking her lips, Eva did not waste time as she guided his erection into her already wet, and waiting womanhood. He groaned in satisfaction, his hands pushing her kimono off her shoulders, his hands moving to rest upon and guide her delicate hips. She stopped him then, pushing his hands off her.

“No,” she whispered harshly, her almond eyes shimmering with a subtle dark need, gazing into eyes that were even blacker.

Alex could only look back at her, suddenly confused. But he caught on soon enough when Eva pulled the sash of her robe free. “Put your wrists together,” she commanded. And though he hesitated, his eyes wide with surprise, he did as she bid. Quickly, and deftly she bound his wrists, securing it with a neat bow. She had never dominated her husband before, and yet she felt her husband grow even harder inside her, his need pulsating around her tight, aching sex. With a subtle nod of approval, she merely smirked down at him lovingly.

“I am going to fuck you now, husband.” Eva heard herself say in a severe tone that was almost alien to her, like she was someone else entirely–someone powerful. Incredible. Utterly sexy. Worthy. God help her, domination had never quite felt like this. “And you will be brave. You will come inside me.” She pushed his arms up over his head, keeping him pinned down as she leaned down close to his face, kissing him deeply. “We can do this. Together.” She whispered, as her hips slowly started to roll, rise, and fall rhythmically.

She did not quite know when she came the first time. Eva was quite, simply, drunk on her own power as she rode her husband fast, slow, and everywhere in between. The woman felt her way through her own need, and even as her husband thrust his own hips, bucking beneath her, she only tamed him over and over again until she came, and a second later he came too, filling her with the hope she so desperately wanted.

They did not stop there, however, and Eva felt her world turn upside down–or perhaps she literally turned upside down. At some point even bound Alex found his way to his knees, his long, massive arms surrounding his wife, his lips finding her lips, her cheek, and any other part of her flesh he could reach. And still, they held each other as he thrust deep, her hips falling to meet his movements in harmony. Somewhere in all the ecstasy, his hands were no longer bound, and as Eva arched her back, tears trickling down her cheeks, his lips found her breasts as his movements turned desperate–almost animalistic–until they both came. And again, he filled her with everything she desired, and more.

Katherine knew Mr. Morello as a man who usually got his way, and it comforted her that he wanted to protect her, but Kat wondered if he was too close to the problem to see clearly. “If you think Eva will allow her uncle to be a patsy, use him.” Kat swiveled toward the coffee maker. “Do you mind if I have a cup of coffee?” Alex nodded as the woman poured herself a cup, adding three sugars. “Let’s say you, an alleged arms dealer, and Eva disappeared or staged a death. Then, at the same time, Senator Peters, who happens to be Eva’s uncle, is arrested for his connections to nefarious arms dealers. Add to that my miraculous rescue, and that’s a lot of coincidences.” She sipped coffee, staring at Morello above the cup’s brim. “No one likes coincidences.”

Cassatt pulled up the Senator’s file on the laptop.” What if you became inconvenient for his reelection campaign?” Kat swiveled around to face Alex. “I’ll state it plain. You and Eva need to die, and Senator Peters should take the fall for your murders.” Cassatt held up a hand in case Morello balked at her idea. “The feds will have evidence against him for his nefarious connections. It won’t be an impossible leap to think he would stoop to murder.”

Kat returned to the laptop. “Especially if the authorities find a few more files on his computer ousting certain dangerous individuals.” The woman turned back with a frown on her face. “I won’t get the credit, but I won’t have a target on my back either. I feel guilty about painting the same bullseye on Eva’s uncle, and it could put her mother in danger via association.” The woman sighed heavily as she tapped her chin, hoping an answer would come from the ether. “I’m not sure there is a way out of this without some risk, nor should there be.” Cassatt’s eyes met with Alex’s briefly. They both knew what she meant, but the hour was late, and answers would not come that evening.

Kat shrugged and went back to the laptop once more. “I’ll see what I can dig up on ol’ Uncle Peters. You should check on Eva. I bet she’s ready for a bit of makeup sex by now.” The brunette waved Alex out of his office as she dug further into the Senator’s misdeeds. A long night lay ahead.

“Stop!” Lady Katherine heard a voice echo in the dungeon. Salt from sweat and fear mingled with tears stinging her eyes as she opened them. Alex the Black, his vicious smile wiped from his face, stood back. A hint of regret hung in his stare. From across the darkened room, the Queen emerged. She was a shining ray of sunlight in a dim and dirty hell. Was Katherine hallucinating?

“Eva?” Katherine’s cracked lips murmured the name as in a prayer.

Queen Eva, her royal highness, first of her name, dressed in a simple yet sparkling nightgown, glided across the room. Her ivory hand touched Katherine’s blood-stained cheek. “I’m sorry,” she said, a burden of sorrow in her tone. Katherine closed her eyes, turning her head. She wished the woman before her was a vision born of delirium. “Forgive me, my love?” begged the Queen. Anguish filled her voice, but what could justify such a betrayal?

“Why?” Katherine spat the words back into Eva’s face. Alex the Black raised a hand to his prisoner, but the Queen stayed his strike.

“I’ve always been fragile.” The Queen’s lips quivered. “I love you, but I love Alex too. I wish there could have been another way, but we have many enemies. I needed to know you were loyal.” Each confession was poison, an acid that stung her tongue and shredded her throat. “I hope you can forgive me.”

The bound woman winced at every utterance from Eva like a lash across her flesh. The branding did not ache as much. Katherine faced her betrayer with a snarl. “Forgive you? I hope you burn in hell!” Alex slapped the defeated soldier, undeterred by the Queen’s outcries. He grabbed a fistful of Lady Katherine’s hair, spit and saliva spewing in her face as he repeated his threat. “You will bear my child. You will love it. You will love me!”

“No!” Katherine cried again. Eva turned away in shame and guilt, her brown eyes filled with tears. “We need you, Katherine. I need you.” The Queen walked away from her lover, still unable to gaze upon her. “We need an heir.”

“This man is a monster!” cried Lady Katherine, tugging at her shackles.

“I know what he is, my love. In time, I hope you will see what I see.” Eva’s face lit up in a smile as she looked upon Alex the Black. He was her protector. “I need him, Kat. Just as I need you, I hope you can see that one day.”

“You don’t need him!” Katherine shouted. “You don’t need anyone! Can’t you see? He’s like everyone who ever shackled you. Like the King. Like your mother.”

Alex the Black could hear no more. Hatred in his heart and a blade in his hand, he drove it deep into Katherine’s chest. The woman, wide-eyed, drew a shocked breath. Pressure and pain throbbed in her chest as blood began to pool. She looked at Eva in horror. The Queen rushed to her lover. Kat’s vision began to dim.

“Ugh!”

Kat ‘s heart thumped faster and faster. Adrenaline filled her veins. Another nightmare. She was shaking.

The brunette rubbed her eyes and stretched, yawning as she slowly stood. The woman had died many times in her dreams. This dream was no different. She pulled up Senator Peters’ file again. As Alex had said, the man was dirty. Did his wife know? Kat wondered. What about his children? And Eva’s mother? Despite what Eva had endured as a child, the woman was her mother. Katherine shook her head. She couldn’t force her own beliefs on Mrs. Morello, but her new lover had given her much food for thought. Who loses when Alex and Eva win? There would be collateral damage. Possibly herself despite Morello’s insistence. Kat anxiously ran her fingers through her hair. Katherine was too close to the story to remain objective. And yet, she could not quit.

What would Edward R. Murrow do?

“He’d tell the truth and damn the consequences.” Kat closed the laptop and turned out the light in Alex’s small study. She knew what she had to do.

Esteban Diaz sat in his deck chair, looking out over the ocean. The dark blue hue of the Mediterranean Sea was a favorite. Diaz and his partner often sailed the seas off Crete’s shores. Those were happy days. Fond memories of his lover danced in his thoughts.

“You are lost in yourself again, Esteban,” said the brown woman by his side. She scrolled through photos on her phone with a wide smile. “They are very pretty, these women.”

“John and I used to sail northwest of here. He loved these waters.” Diaz let himself move to the rhythm of the yacht – a gentle sway, lulling his mind into more comfortable concerns. “He taught me how to swim in the Aegean Sea near Lesvos.”

“You mean Lesbos?”

“The word is pronounced Levos as β in ancient Greek sounded like, vvveh, V.” Diaz reached over for a sip of Piña coladas and watched his assistant, Emily Horn, flip through the photos on her phone. “I told you to delete those. Memorize and delete. Do your job.”

“Killjoy,” Horn shot back but did as asked, though she sent one photo to her private server. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he said flatly. “Only Morello. Do you understand?”

“Sure. She’s gorgeous, and I like redheads.”

Esteban turned around, facing Emily. “Talk to her first. If you can get her to talk over a cup of tea, please do so. I don’t want her hurt, just cooperative.”

“Fine, but it won’t be as fun. Can I have the brunette for later?”

Diaz sighed. “Why not? After you’ve spoken to Mrs. Morello and I’ve released you from your contract, you are free to kidnap anyone you like.”

“Buzzkill. Lydia won’t go for it.” Now, Emily sighed.

“Your ex is a brilliant woman,” commented Diaz, taking another sip from his drink.

Sleep came and went in shallow fragments. When her eyes were open, Eva’s large brown eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her thoughts darting from hope one minute to dread the next. He had given her what she wanted. What she demanded. Events were set into motion. No going back now.

What have I done?

In the moments of slumber, the visions swimming in the back of her mind were almost worse. Kat and Alex surrounded her. Circling. Descending. Facing off in an endless battle for control and affection. Both demanded her love. Her attention. Kat ordered her to go with her. And Alex merely laughed, explaining that the frail, and utterly selfish redhead would do nothing of the sort. Kat would laugh then too, as if just then realizing that the international arms dealer was right. Eva was weak. Nothing. Just a spoiled little rich girl doomed to forever disappoint her mother.

The second time Eva woke, her cheeks were damp. And, as if he knew, Alex found her in the dark, molding himself against her, pulling her close. Though she could tell he had not fully woken, his lips found her shoulder as his arm wrapped around her. “Sei al sicuro con me.” He whispered, in between subtle snores.

Though Eva did not permit herself to sleep again, she felt content enough to drift peacefully and merely focus on the rhythmic and gentle snoring. She found comfort in the sound and often used it to help her fall asleep, despite Alex’s repeated offers for various measures to curb such nighttime disturbances. She missed that sound when he was not in bed with her.

Time only held meaning again when the first rays of morning passed through the massive bedroom windows. Alex stirred, and Eva was instantly aroused when she felt his erection. Licking her lips, she smiled when his hand found her breasts: squeezing, cupping, caressing until her nipples were aching for more. As he became more aware, he kissed along her collarbone and neck, until she turned back to meet his lips. Moaning, she loved how he knew just how to move behind her, his penis sliding against her slick folds, and instantly she wanted more. Eva kissed him more, while parting her legs. Taking the cue, he slipped inside her slowly and gently. She sighed against his lips, and looked deep into those near-black eyes, seeing only love and need staring back at her as they made love.

After they came together in one another’s arms, Eva found herself sprawled across his chest, smiling as she listened to his heartbeat, her eyes not leaving his gaze. He held a smile of his own as his fingers absently traced random paths along her back and buttocks.

“You and Kat have more work today.” Eva made it a statement.

“SÌ.” Alex said, “but we will only be able to get so far. I am waiting on one final transaction, and until I hear of its success, we can only do so much. Katherine is worried that she will become collateral damage. We will need to ensure that does not happen.”

Eva nodded. Kat getting hurt was not part of the deal. Then again, neither was falling in love.

“You two should spend the day together. Not work. Something fun. Maybe go out? She and I watched the sunrise on Olympus, but maybe you and her can take one of the more challenging trails? Or, if you want to stay home, I can clear out and wander the shops for a few hours, give you two some time alone here?”

Alex chuckled as he stroked his wife’s hair, tucking russet strands behind her ear. “I fear that she and I alone will only succeed in posturing and frustration for both of us. I do not expect she will ever have love for me in the same way she does you. You, la mia splendida moglie, are what bring us together.”

Fresh tears threatened to spill. “I don’t want to lose her.”

Alex sat up then, pulling Eva into his lap, holding her close. His lips found her brow. “I know. But she is not, and never will be yours to keep. It is plain she loves you, but if we are to have our family, you and her will have to say goodbye.”

“You’re going to miss her too.”

“SÌ.”

“Then why can’t you two fall in love, and we come up with a new plan?”

Alex only sighed, and did not respond.

Eva echoed his sigh. “At least spend the day with her. Just the two of you. Iason and I can go shopping.”

Alex chuckled, resigned.“I will invite Kat to spend the day with me, but I want you with us. She and I both will require you if we are to strengthen our bond.”

“Fine, but I still want to be in the background.” Eva looked up at Alex. “Make me a gimp.”

Alex frowned, pressing his forehead against Eva’s. “No. I will not turn you into a mere object. I detested that time when-”

Eva stopped his words with a kiss. “Shh, love, it’s fine. It will just be this once. Besides, you know I love it.”

“But I don’t.” He said firmly. “You are exquisite in ropes, but there are some things that even I do not wish to suffer. Seeing you helpless in that way…. No, Eva.”

“Alright,” Eva said, cupping Alex’s cheek. “Servant, then?”

Alex kissed her hand, taking it into his. “Alright. We can do that, but only if you swear to me that before we begin, you will eat a full breakfast, and since I know you did not have a restful night, if you find yourself too exhausted, you’ll give your safeword.”

Eva nodded. “I promise.”

Alex nodded and smiled, though for the life of her she did not understand why he looked so sad. She liked the sinking feeling it gave her even less, but she quickly forgot the emotion as he pulled her into a tight, loving embrace. “Tu sei l’amore della mia vita.”

“Ti amo di più.”

[hr][/hr]

Alex lounged back in his chair, sipping his morning coffee from his usual perch beside the pool. He looked out, just barely managing to capture the oceanic horizon in the distance.

It was another perfect day. The gentle, subtly fragrant breeze kept the day’s heat from feeling miserable. And still, his thoughts were on anything but the beauty of the world before him. For a man who had all he could want, he quietly knew the truth: he did not deserve any of it.

He sighed, as he heard the soft shifting of chains at his feet. Alex deserved the woman at his feet least of all. By God, all the sacrifices she made… and all she was about to give up. For him. For their family. What wouldn’t he give to make sure she could have everything and more?

Looking down at his wife, he gently stroked her hair as he eyed the black leather collar and cuffs–eight in total–securing her above the elbows and at the wrists, and two more sets around her thighs, and ankles. The upper cuffs were all connected and attached through a long running chain down her back keeping her arms rather immobile.

True to her word, she ate a full breakfast of eggs, and oatmeal topped with blueberries. And, after eating, she took just a few minutes for herself to prepare for a day in bondage. When she was ready, he bound her, and had her serve him breakfast.

And now, she knelt on a large floor pillow at his side, and he had thought about binding her legs further, but decided there would be time enough later. Besides, she would need those lovely legs if she was to serve Katherine her breakfast. He smiled darkly at the thought, but pushed it away quickly, not wanting to work himself up so soon.

“Did you remember the sunscreen?” he asked.

Eva looked up at him, her chin already dripping from the ring gag. She nodded.

He stroked her cheek, and she made a soft, loving sound, and leaned against his leg.

“She’ll be here soon.” He promised. “And then you will serve her breakfast, and after she is content, you will serve her. Do you understand?”

She attempted to say “yes, sir” through the gag, and she nodded as she did so.

Between nightmares and a crisis of conscience, Kat barely slept. Alex’s plan was simple – create a diversion, and he and Eva would disappear. As a journalist, Kathrine knew that no plan was foolproof. Something would go wrong. Her plan was too complex. How would Alex and Eva “die?” How would they plant the evidence that Senator Peters was the cause of it? The more Kat thought about the idea, the more ludicrous it sounded. Maybe simple caution was the answer. Proceed with Alex’s idea and expect something to go wrong.

And what of Cassat’s integrity? Was she willing to throw that away? Walking into the bathroom, the weary woman looked at herself in the mirror. “If you do this, you’re no better than Morello. It doesn’t matter if Peters is guilty or not. The ends don’t always justify the means.”

Katherine took a shower and dressed for a summer day, wearing a blousy white t-shirt, khaki shorts, and no shoes or socks. Her hair was tied in a bun, still wet from the bath. Cassat hoped to have breakfast by the pool. She needed sustenance and time to think. Entering the kitchen, a note sat on the counter, directing the woman to the pool. Nerves fluttered in her stomach when she stepped out onto the cement.

“Alex, I want you to hear me out. We – Oh my god …” Katherine skidded to a halt, seeing Eva bound as she was. “Ehm …” The brunette eyed Eva, a bit embarrassed for both of them, but she quickly put her feelings aside. Memories of her time with Eva filled Kat’s mind, pushing out all negative imagery of the scene before her. Besides, Eva would never have agreed to such a thing had she not desired it. Fortunately, Alex explained what was to happen. Kat decided as she sat in the chair, ready to be served.

“Thank you, Eva,” Cassat cooed. “I’m sorry for my earlier reaction, but I was caught off guard. I hope you will forgive me.” A smile widened across Kat’s lips while her eyes drifted along every inch of Eva’s body, devouring every curve. Recalling their switch in roles on Mt. Olympus, the brunette was pleased with Eva’s intentions, if not a little envious.

Glancing at the breakfast buffet, Kat’s eyes grew wide. The Morellos did not spare any expenses, and they prepared for her love of full English. “You know I like a big breakfast, so if you would, I’ll have one of everything.” Before she could move, Kat reached out, laying a hand gently on her arm. “Before we do anything, I would like it if you do not react to what I say to your husband.” Cassatt turned her gaze toward Alex, seeking permission. Eva did the same.

“I know this is supposed to be a time of relaxation and fun, but I need to say this.” Unable to look at Alex or Eva, she turned, facing the house. “I will give you the distraction you requested, but I must tell the truth.” Cassatt couldn’t help but eye Eva as she poured baked beans and hashbrowns onto a plate. “All of it – how you kidnapped me and how I became complicit. I can make a deal with the authorities with everything you’ve given me. I’ll release the information on Senator Peters anonymously. That will cause a feeding frenzy in the press. Once you are gone, I will contact someone through my father and offer your information in exchange for immunity and protection.” The woman shook, clearly frightened, at the prospect but was adamant. “This is my price to help you, and it’s non-negotiable.”

As Eva served the breakfast, Kat took the redhead’s hand in her own, calming down. She smiled up at Eva. “You have to be strong, Eva. Stronger than ever, and I believe you can do this.” Hoping to deflate the situation, Cassatt snaked her fingers up Eva’s body, cupping her breasts. “The fear is inside you, Eva. Just as it is inside me, but that means we can control it. We can push through it.” Ivory hands pinched Eva’s nipple tenderly, extracting a tiny moan from the bound woman before her. “I love you, Eva, and I’ll be okay.” Katherine smiled, then shooed Morello away. “Now, let me eat my breakfast. I’m starving.”

Alex watched his wife serve the other woman. He had given her just enough freedom to use her forearms, much as he had Katherine just a few days prior. But, as he watched the bound woman gracefully move about–her uncovered breasts and behind a stunning sight to behold–his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

Sacrifice.

His gaze roamed over to the other woman as she gave his wife a moment of tender assurance before quite literally shooing her away. The international gangster could not help but quietly chuckle at the display. Katherine had a bit of domme in her afterall. He respected that, and so much more about the reporter.

“Eva, come and kneel here.” He pointed back to the pillow. As his wife did as she was told, he re-secured her wrists. He knelt beside her then, gazing deep into those wide brown eyes, and the crow’s feet subtly forming and he knew Katherine’s words had sunk in.

“Grace, my love,” he said gently, as he ran his knuckles gently down her cheek. “You asked for this game today. Let yourself focus on the moment, and not what might be. There are still many uncertain things.”

Eva lowered her gaze, finding a deep, calming breath despite her gag. She nuzzled against his hand. Though hooded eyes, his hands roamed over her body. His hands cupped and squeezed at her breasts, caressed along the line of her petite curves, and over to her cheeks. As his fingers started to play along Eva’s sex, he pulled out a sizable egg-sized bullet from the pocket of his dark cargo shorts. He wore no shirt, but rather allowed his toned, but not quite bulky muscles to soak in the vitamin D. He let his wife eye the bullet, considering exactly where the small but mighty object was going to go, and what it was going to do. He slipped it inside her using her own saliva as a lube, ensuring it that it would stay put, and the small cord hung neatly between her legs.

Alex stood, and looked down at his wife. “Remain on this pillow until Katherine or I have need of you. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“Good. And you may not orgasm unless given permission. Do you understand?”

Again, she nodded.

Satisfied, Alex stood and refilled his mug with coffee from the french press, and placed a few slices of bacon onto a napkin before joining the reporter at her table. As he sat down, he pulled a small remote from his pocket and set it on the table close to Katherine. He said nothing more until the woman had finished her breakfast, learning that she was by far more amenable on a full stomach.

He quietly worked on his bacon and coffee while waiting.

When she seemed finished and satisfied, he spoke. “Offering a thank you for all you are sacrificing seems terribly inadequate. The fact is I can never repay you, nor will I ever ask forgiveness for all I put you through.”

He was right, of course. Gratitude after kidnapping, and ruining this woman’s life was at best an insult, and at worst the greatest abuse of all. And, suddenly, the weight on Alex’s soul felt heavier than ever; a monster within that had taken root so many years ago–born of grief and vengeance. Looking at Katherine, however, his coal-black eyes offered only respect and adoration. “We will go with your plan. We will honor your needs and your integrity.”

He did not say it out loud, but he fully intended to make sure this woman was protected from monsters like him. Once he and Eva disappeared, there would be little he could do, but before? It was a small matter of networking. She would never know.

“In the meantime,” he said, his lips parting in a small smile as he pushed the vibrator’s remote a bit closer to the woman, “it seems that you and I are under orders to bond and grow closer. We are to spend the day together, and Eva is to serve us, and grant our every desire. So, the question is, what is it you would like to do first?”

Katherine conditioned herself to think as a submissive. She served Eva and Alex, enduring their whims as she sank deeper into the kink lifestyle. Dark thoughts of submission invaded her subconscious, weaving nightmares that fueled an ever-growing lustful mania. Under Cypris’ blue sky, Eva’s desires appeared degrading. Did Kat want that for herself? How ridiculous she must have looked just a few days prior, sporting similar bondage and identically hindered.

Kat’s eyes traced the curve of Eva’s body, suffering from the villainous egg vibrating in her sex. Unable to release, forced to push against the torturous pleasure. Katherine admired the redhead’s willpower to stave off such a need. Her gaze fell upon Eva’s firm breasts and pink nipples, reliving the moments the two shared. Sounds made by her lover when Kat suckled those hardened nubs echoed in her memory. Oxytocin was released in the brain when nipples were stimulated either orally or by hand (or anything else). Katherine lost herself in such pleasure, which was partially responsible for her draw toward such a dark lifestyle. There was, within the reporter, a desire to enslave herself to the couple and live her life enraptured in blissful torment. But the idea was a fantasy.

The journalist sought Eva’s deep, brown eyes with her blue orbs. The women shared a connection that went beyond their bizarre circumstances. They were lovers trapped in a doomed relationship, and Kat seemingly hammered the last nail in the coffin. For Alex to demand she continue to play after a revelation bordered on cruelty. The man loved his wife. Cassatt could not doubt his sincerity, but as in his business affairs, the arms dealer usually got his way or pitched a tantrum if not. Katerine asked herself if Eva felt trapped by Morello in the same way as her mother. The woman enjoyed taking orders, but had she known any other life? The idea that Eva might be a prisoner of low self-esteem weighed on the journalist. Perhaps there was something she could do about it, as she did on Mt. Olympus.

Katherine smiled back at Alex. She had been in deep thought for a while. The Morellos must have worried about her lack of response to Eva’s wish for Katherine and Alex to bond.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a smile. “I needed a time out for a moment,” Cassatt said nothing else concerning her momentary mental hiatus. “So, we are to bond?” The woman giggled as she stood from her seat. “Fair enough, I suppose.” The brunette then sauntered toward Alex. No, there would never be love between them. Morello’s eyes appeared black, like a doll’s eyes, like he wasn’t alive. Kat smiled cheerfully. “About what you said, that I wouldn’t forgive you.” Katherine slapped Alex hard, ensuring the man felt the sting. “Never assume anything. It makes an ass out of you and me.” She bent down and kissed the man on the lips – a little, friendly peck. “Now, I forgive you.”

There was no doubt Katherine had pulled the tiger’s tail, but she turned away from Morello and focused on Eva. “I forgave him for you.” She never spoke the words but offered the bound woman a subtle nod, inferring as much. “I’ll be back in about twenty minutes, and then we can bond while further teasing your wife.”

Kat let Eva think about what was to come. Alex would be Alex. Would they bond, or would she find herself in leather and chains, tormented by an egg? The odds seemed to be 50/50. Entering her closet, Kat shuffled through the dresses and clothing accumulated during her stay in the Cypris villa. For whatever reason, Alex allowed her to domme his wife. She aimed not to disappoint.

Within 15 minutes, Katherine stepped back onto the patio by the pool. She wore a black body suit under a sheer cape and layered with lace and fishnets. In her hand was a huge strap-on. Kat smirked as Eva set her eyes on the thing.

Thigh-high leather boots with four-inch heels allowed her to tower over Eva as the would-be domme circled Eva. The woman knelt by the bound redhead; flaming red nails traced Eva’s cheek while Cassatt blew in her ear. “Come, Alex. Let’s have some fun.” Kat let her nails gently scratch Eva’s arms and shoulders. She could hear the vibrating egg edging the woman to infuriating heights of ecstasy. “I’m going to destroy you,” Kat whispered into Eva’s ear, then blew a tantalizing breath, teasing the woman further.

Cupping Eva’s breast, the wicked Katerine pinched the woman’s nipples, twisting them enough to taunt, not to harm. Alternating between each, she moved in and licked Eva’s face, from chin to cheek. Her tongue circled back to the ear, tickling Eva’s lobe before suckling it tenderly. Ivory hands squeezed full breasts, taunting her further.

Kat rose and winked at her prey, affixing the strap-on a moment later. Without a word, Cassatt ran her fingers through Eva’s red locks, pulling her forward. The giant, black cock circled full, red lips. Fortunately, the ring gag was the correct fit. Taking hold of the dildo, Kat rubbed it against her lover’s chin, coating it with drool. Kat smiled at her pet, almost laughing as she pulled Eva closer. “Take it, you slut,” she said, nearly breaking the spell with a fit of giggles, and inserted the faux cock inside Eva’s yearning mouth. Without prompt or ceremony, the new domme thrust into her submissive’s mouth about an inch. Kat looked down at her lover. “Are you okay? Shall we go for it?” Cassat looked at Alex, needing his guidance. “Will you show me what to do? I don’t want to hurt her.” She winked at Eva as Alex stepped behind her, but the truth was Kat was improvising the scenario. She had no idea what she was doing.

Years ago; Undisclosed mafia safehouse

The figure dressed in fine black slacks, and loafers, topped with a pure white button down shirt, left casually open at the top, dropped another molar into the small, stainless steel receptacle before setting the pliers down upon the small stainless steel cart. Mr. Morello did not look, but he heard the man sobbing softly behind him as he picked up a small white cloth, and began to wipe away the blood from his fingers. Thankfully, his dress shirt remained clean.

That did not always happen.

Alex kept his back turned from the man shackled to the steel chair. “You have been very cooperative, Mr. Adeoye. I have only one more question for you.” He finally turned back to face the weeping man.

Blood, contusions, and sweat marred the captive’s dark face. The rest of him did not fare much better–a broken spirit covered with shallow cuts, burns, and shattered extremities. He hunched forward as much as his restraints would allow and he let saliva and other vital fluids drain from his mouth.

Setting the cloth down, the international arms dealer picked up one of the few weapons he actually owned, a Beretta APX A1. He pulled back on the slide, loading a round into the chamber.

“Where and when will the exchange take place?”

The captive coughed and sputtered, blood from his mouth splattering on the dirt floor. “I–no. I–cannot…”

Alex immediately descended upon the pathetic figure, his fingers raking through and took a fistful of the other man’s grimey afro and yanked his head back harshly. Black eyes, void of sympathy and filled with cruelty, bore into the captive’s one good eye where the space around the iris reddened from burst vessels. “Yes, Mr. Adeoye, you can. Time and place, now, or your suffering will escalate.”

“I know…” More blood trickled down the man’s chin. “…I am dead.” His words were choked and strained. He coughed from the effort. “But… wife. Children. They… will be killed.”

“I will protect them.” Alex’s gaze bored into the other man’s. “I can make them disappear. Never to be found. Perhaps even a chance at a better life, if that is your wish.”

“You would do…” The captive’s eye searched Alex’s face, as if seeing something he had not before. “Why?”

“Everyone deserves a chance at a better life. To live free. To choose their happiness, and prosper because of it. If you give me the details of the exchange I will take your family far from their reach. You have my word.”

The man’s bloodied eye glistened, a fresh, cleansing fluid dripped down the side of his face. “I know your word, Morello. You… have honor. You… swear my family will be safe?”

“Si. I will do what is within my power.”

The captive nodded. And gave Morello the information.

“Thank you,” Alex said as he put a phone to his ear. While the captive watched, and listened, Morello spoke to several people, and in several languages, but when he ended his call for the third time he merely nodded at the captive. “It is done.”

With a single nod, the captive sat up, and gently bowed his head forward as best as his broken body would allow. Alex walked around to face the other man, and raised the Beretta, placing the barrel less than an inch from the man’s forehead.

Slowly, Alex inhaled, and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he squeezed the trigger.

[hr][/hr]

In the short span that Katherine chose to make herself ready for the day, Alex gave Eva respite and peace from the egg vibrator switching it off from the remote, and used the time to clear the breakfast dishes. He would have preferred to wash dishes too, but he did not wish to leave his bound wife for too long beside the pool–though he knew well she would be cautious, he could not help his worry. Upon return, he could only frown as he saw his wife weeping.

Gently, Alex crouched down, and removed the gag. Eva worked her jaw briefly, and smacked her lips.

“What is wrong, love,” Alex asked.

Eva lowered her gaze. “She slapped you. She’s angry. Kat won’t ever love you, will she.”

Alex brushed back his wife’s hair from her face. “I am afraid not. That she struck me? I am fine, mio caro. Katherine is a formidable woman, and we are her captors. She has earned her anger, and moreover, she too has demons. In this we cannot judge her, nor can we blame her. This is the price we both must pay for our future happiness.”

“But she–”

Alex put a finger over his wife’s lips. “Hush, love. If this is too much, then speak your safeword and we will be done. Otherwise, you chose to be our servant today, and thus we must play our parts.”

Eva could only nod, and smiled slightly as Alex wiped the dampness from her cheeks. With extra care and sympathy he placed the large metal ring back into her mouth.

[hr][/hr]

Fuck.

Dark, unreadable eyes watched the woman in full dominatrix regalia saunter over to his wife. Kat thought of every detail, and more. Alex Morello knew better. It was, perhaps, a fine tease for his wife. But for him? It was battle armor. Today would no longer be about building bonds or friendship. No. Both he and his caro giornalista were engaged in battle.

The victor’s prize? Eva.

That feeling in the space where his heart once lived turned unpleasant, as he heard the other woman speak. I’m going to destroy you. Take it you slut. He stood then, and joined Katherine while she teased and tormented his wife.

The minute she asked for his advice, he slipped his arms around Kat. At just over six feet tall, it was easy enough to peer over the other woman’s shoulder to gaze down at his wife below, watching her flick her tongue along the edge of the long black dildo.

“Gently, at first,” Alex coached as his hands roamed over Kat’s form, resting gently upon her hips. “A man can feel his erection inside a beautiful woman’s mouth. Sensation will guide him. With a dildo, you will need to concentrate, be wary of your charge’s reactions. With the ring in her mouth you will need to take care not to trigger her gag reflex. My wife is capable of deep throat, but not very well in this state.

“Yes. Like that.” Alex cooed in Kat’s ear, his breath teasing her. “Hold her head to show her where you want her to go. Praise her when she does well, and give directions so your desires are equally met. She will aim to please.” Katherine pushed Eva further onto the dildo, though it was little more than a token effect with the ring gag, and as Katherine brought the woman back again a line of saliva hung sloppily between Eva’s lower lip, and the dildo.

He watched Katherine slide the dildo yet deeper into his wife’s throat as her chest rose and fell heavily, her own body at war with itself: needing release, and fighting to stop herself time and again. Alex knew that if Eva let down her guard she could come with the egg inside her; clitoral stimulation helped speed and strengthen her orgasms, but with enough encouragement she could come from her g-spot alone.

His poor wife was miserable. And loving every minute of it.

Alex pressed himself against Katherine, then, allowing her to feel his full erection. He brought his hands up, cupping her breasts, his eyes peering hungrily down the line of one woman’s body, to the other below. Eva rolled her eyes upward, and met his own gaze. Alex smiled down at her, puckering his lips–the subtlest of gestures–but he knew when his wife smiled back at him, gag or no gag. Her honey gaze moved back to Katherine then, and Alex watched how that expression changed: Longing. Need. Love.

Sorrow.

His hands continued to fondle her would-be domme’s breasts enjoying the sensation of her taut nipples pressing against the leotard’s fabric. “Do not forget to praise her if you are pleased. Eva likes that. Although if you are to name her ‘slut’, do consider your degrading words carefully. There are many in Eva’s position who like to be offered dirty words, but it is also important to fully understand the effect those words have.

“Eva and I, in the past, shared our bed with many lovers. Brief trysts with those not shy over their sexuality, or fetishes. Therefore, by definition, I, too, am a slut. And yet, here we are, the three of us together, and our intimacy is certainly not casual. So, does our exquisite lady on her knees deserve such a label?

“Look down at Eva. Are we truly feeding her weakness as she pleasures you? Or are we reminding her that she is strong?

Alex slipped one hand lower, slipping his fingers beneath the straps of the dildo, where fingers rubbed over the fabric that covered Katherine’s sex while his lips traced feathered kisses along her collarbone. He spoke again only a few seconds later. “Willing submission is unparalleled strength, Katherine. And that, mio caro giornalista, is worthy of respect.”

Power. Katherine knew the sensation of power and its intoxication. She wielded words the way politicians wielded arsenals. Such strength came at a price. Cassatt had no moment to let her guard down within her interviews, op-eds, and exposes. Diligence was the bedrock of her profession. Perhaps that was why the submission was called to her.

With the dildo in Eva’s mouth, Kat welcomed Alex’s tutelage. Feeling his weight upon her back, she allowed him to mold her and move her to maximum advantage. His words of encouragement were welcome. Taking hold of Eva’s head, her fingers pushing through the woman’s red hair, Kat gently positioned the woman to suit her needs. “There. That’s a good girl,” Kat said with a smile. Pushing her hips forward, Cassatt slid the dildo further into Eva’s waiting mouth. Mr. Morello was correct in his assessment of Kat’s abilities. She had no direct sensation of pleasure from fucking Eva in the mouth, but the sights and sounds boosted her ego, adding to the mounting want within her sex.

Logically, the act shouldn’t turn her own. Kat thought herself a feminist. Why use a phallic and validate the opinions of lesser men that she needed a cock. But logic broke when her eyes feasted on Eva’s vulnerability and trust. Fuck the options of lesser men. She didn’t need the validation. She only needed to own Alex’s wife at that moment.

Eager hands reached around to find her breasts, kneading the flesh beneath the thin bodysuit. Kat closed her eyes and allowed the pleasure to fill her. As Alex’s fingers toyed with her nipples, Kat gave in and let out a moan mixed with a whimper. The woman continued to invade Eva’s lips as the faux cock gained a slippery coating. Fucking the woman’s mouth became much more manageable. “You’re doing good, Eva,” said Kat, drinking the sweet electricity Alex bestowed upon her. Gods, she could live in this state of bliss, caught in a wave of ecstasy and frustration. The man who held her was a monster. He admitted it. Need and desire taunted her convictions. He pinched her nipples, squeezing chemical love throughout her body. She arched her neck back, feeling his lips on her shoulder. Her sex was drowning.

Was this the mind of an addict? At that moment, Katherine didn’t care. She would lay by his feet if he so ordered, let him use her in any manner. “Tease me forever. I’ll be your slave.” The words were on Kat’s tongue, ready to reveal her not-so-hidden desire. Then Alex spoke, scolding her for her usage of words.

Kat continued to slide her phallic between Eva’s soft lips. Without losing a beat, she inhaled and cooed as his fingers found her sex. “I know the worth of words, Alex,” she said, caressing Eva’s soft cheek. “You’ve been a good girl, Eva. I’m going to pull out now.” Cassatt did as she said and slowly backed out, allowing the dildo to slither out of Eva’s mouth. Saliva dripped from the cock onto the pillow where Eva sat.

“Are you all right?” Kat asked of the kneeling woman. She unhitched the strap-on and tossed it aside. “Towel, please,” she asked of Alex as he kissed and teased. Catching the towel offered, Cassatt wiped the drool from Eva’s chin, chest, breasts, and lower body. She could still hear the egg pulsating within Eva’s sex. Kat grinned mischievously before kissing the redhead along her jawline. Nibbling at her earlobe, Kat whispered. “I’m going to destroy you now,” and carefully, slowly lay Eva onto her back. Sweat beaded on their flesh.

“It’ll be okay,” Kat soothed any real fear from Eva’s mind. “This, I know how to do.” Once the redhead was on her back, Katherine slipped the pillow, dry side up, under her back, allowing the woman’s hips to thrust upward and her sex vulnerable. “Alex, if you would tend to your lovely wife’s breasts, I would appreciate it.” The egg continued to torture poor Eva, a fact Kat was counting on.

“You see,” the journalist began, flipping her hair behind her neck and lowering her face just inched above Eva’s sex, “I didn’t intend to demine you.” Kat blew on the helpless woman’s pussy. “I meant to scare you and grab your attention.” A smile widened on Kat’s lips before she lowered herself between Eva’s thighs. A hot, piercing tongue traced the woman’s slit from back to front at a painstaking pace. “You and I both know what fear and adrenaline do to a submissive.” Soft lips planted kisses along pink folds, feeling the vibrations deep within. “Eva … Eva … Eva, you are stronger than you know.”

Another long, languishing lick attacked Morello’s sex. Then another and another. Katherine let herself drown in Eva’s misery; the woman’s cries were a symphony. Her struggles were a holy rite. But now it was time to take Eva further. Slipping her fingers into the pink walls, Kat moved the vibrating egg up and down, pressing against her g-spot. All the while, Katherine lapped at the woman’s clitoral hood, tantalizing the flowering bud underneath.

Before the woman could climax, Kat rose from devouring her prey. Her chin and lips were wet with Eva’s juices. Cassatt smiled softly, her blue eyes meeting Eva’s brown.

“Eva … I love you.”

Confessing her love would certainly heighten the love chemistry within the redhead. Dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin would all increase. For Katherine, there was no war. This was goodbye.

“Remember me.”

And down again, Kat went, tormenting the desperate redhead, never once heeding frustrated cries or pitiful begging. Only Eva’s safeword or signal would stop the torture.

Alex helped his wife as Katherine repositioned the willing servant onto her back. He unbound her wrists and elbows, but resecured the d-hooks at the ankles, making the other woman’s job of keeping those legs parted much easier.

As Eva’s husband, he could only be envious as another woman pleasured his wife. Every miserable, desperate sound the woman made was a sensual music to his ears, and he too added to the symphony as his forefinger and thumb played at his wife’s taut nipples. He pinched, pulled, and rolled the taut buds in his fingers, adding just enough discomfort to stave off the woman’s orgasm. Each time he spurred his wife to pain, her cries grew discordant, and her hips rose off the pillow, which in turn encouraged Katherine to torment the woman even more.

The game only lasted so long, however. Eva’s entire body shook, and strands of her ginger lock’s plastered to her temples. Eva had more strength than any woman he knew, even Katherine, and yet she would not hold out much longer. His eyes moved slowly to the reporter whose face was buried deep in sex. By God’s grace this woman is not going to stop. She will drive Eva mad.

Her words to his wife were equally concerning. Alex severely disliked this woman using sex-driven emotions to make this a goodbye, and their mere thought of it turned his stomach, and the first hint of rage–the monster–rose and his cheeks flushed. But, in the end, all of this was his doing. He had Katherine brought to this place. He asked that she do the impossible, and it was he who allowed his wife to fall in love. How could he be angry when all the wrongdoing fell upon him?

Eva screamed through her o-ring. Desperate. Tears streamed from wide cinnamon eyes, and her entire body convulsed. Her body had reached a very real, and very carnal limit.

Eva squirted through the orgasm. Alex felt almost helpless as Katherine kept licking, stroking and lapping, pushing Eva yet further even as his wife slumped on the pillow nearly senseless.

“Katherine.” Alex warned. “Pull the vibrator give her respite.” When his black eyes met the journalist’s sparkling blue gaze, eyes wild, drunk on power, he merely gazed back with a slow, purposeful nod. Do it now.

Sighing, she did as bid. And as the vibrator pulsed and buzzed on the pillow, Alex removed the gag from his wife’s mouth gently. Eva, eyes glazed over and only half-open, lazily closed her mouth and smacked her lips.

“Eva.” Alex gently held his wife’s head in his hands, and stroked her hair back from her face. “Talk to me. Are you with us? Are you okay?”

Making a small sound, she nodded. “Yep.” She whispered. “I mean, yes, sir. Y-yes, Mistress. I mean Kat.” Eva sighed, fluttering her eyes open for a moment, her gaze moving slowly between the duo. “Tired. But good. I-I’m sorry I came without permission.”

Alex normally would give a dark, stern look, making himself a believable and capable dominant. Today he found himself grateful that Eva did not pass out from the orgasm, and so he did not hide his loving smile as he stroked her cheek. “Indeed. And, for that, you will need to be disciplined.”

“Katherine. I realized you have not yet experienced true punishment. What do you feel is fitting for my wife’s disobedience?”

Holding onto Eva’s squirming legs, Katherine continued to lick. She drew her tongue across the woman’s slit slowly, eliciting muffled screams and desperate muffled begging from the redhead only to quicken her pace, driving the bound woman closer to madness. Kat could tell Eva was close but wouldn’t stop or couldn’t stop. The new power that surged within her had taken control. Cassatt imagined the two were alone with no concerned husband to save poor Eva. Would the journalist drive her new lover to insanity? Possibly. Kissing, nibbling, and licking at Eva’s labia, Kat’s envy rose to new heights. What if it were just the two of them? The reporter had money. They could live a life of hedonism, driving each other crazy all day and night.

Eva’s body arched and soaked Kat’s face in her juices. Her tongue continued, unconcerned with consequences. The vibe inside Eva never stopped. What was it she said on the plane? “How about another.” Wickedly, Kat prepared to torment Eva to another orgasm when she heard Alex call her name. Reality came crashing back.

“Shit!” Shaky fingers entered Eva’s hole, retrieving the vibe and ending its reign of terror, the poor redhead. “I’m so sorry, Eva,” Cassatt said, placing the small toy on the pillow. The woman crawled toward her victim, taking her hand. “Please … I’m sorry. I got carried away – my first time at this, you know.” Kat smiled through mounting tears of remorse. Her face was stained with discharge; Kat gave no thought to how she might look. Her only concern was Eva, and she continued to stroke and caress the spent woman’s hand. Vaguely, the journalist understood that Alex was unhappy with her performance after putting his wife through such an ordeal.

“Alex. I am sorry. I guess such things are best left to the professionals.” The gest was small, and Kat didn’t expect anyone to laugh, but she felt it only made things worse. As she stood, Cassatt saw the couple comforting one another. Their genuine love for one another shined again. It was a lovely sight, but Kat couldn’t help her jealous heart. Cassatt felt particularly envious more than ever, but she shrugged it off and blamed her hormones.

“I’ll get changed,” Kat said as she stood and wiped her face. Starting for the house, Kat left the couple to embrace and comfort one another. Then Alex mentioned discipline.

“Katherine. I realized you have not yet experienced true punishment. What do you feel is fitting for my wife’s disobedience?”

“The fuck are you talking about?” she scowled as she marched back toward Morello. “Take away the fact that A. you’re wrong, and B. your wife is exhausted, which is my fault; I realize these scenes are –” Kat knelt next to Eva again, taking her hand. “I know all of this is based on trust,” she told the couple, conveying as much empathy as possible. “And if you want to play this out, have a blast, but please leave me out of it.” Kat stood on her five-inch heels again, bound for the house, but stopped at the door. “I’m the one who fucked up, not her. Punish me.” Kat smirked, knowing she had just thrown down a gauntlet and went into the house.

Alex quickly released Eva’s d-hooks, and looked from his wife to the door and back down again.

“It’s okay,” Eva reassured him, patting a tired hand on his arm. “Go get her. I’ll just help myself to a lounger.”

Alex nodded, picking up Eva and setting her down on the poolside perch he knew she liked most. She smiled sweetly, curling up. If he did not know better he would think she was asleep already.

“This does not spare you from some punishment later,” he called quietly, but sternly over his shoulder.

“I know,” Eva said with a yawn, “looking forward to it.”

More upset with Katherine, than amused by Eva, he could only smirk. As he stepped into the house. He was grateful when she had not yet locked herself away into her room.

“Katherine!” His tone held notes of a rising temper, but as was required so often, he buried those emotions, knowing that anger all too often led to rash, and often foolish action. His words were enough to stop the woman in her tracks, and with a slow calming breath he closed the distance, stepping around to block the woman’s escape.

“I will start with an apology.” He sighed, his Italian accent thicker than usual, as he raised his hands as if he were to comfort her, but he stopped short, raising his hands much like a white flag of surrender. “This morning was ill conceived from the start. I am sorry.

“But let me be clear, Katherine. You never simply leave a submissive when care and comfort are needed–just as a submissive should never walk away at the end of a session without. Yes, Eva had a trying orgasm, but if you had looked closer, you would have seen such bliss and contentment. You would have seen the love she bears you. More than that, if real punishment, or distress had been used, simply walking away can cause very real, and lasting harm. Do not ever forget that.”

Softening his tone again, Alex continued. “She loves us both, and envisions a world where the three of us can be together. Because of how she was raised, there are things she sees through the lens of a child’s innocence.” Alex chuckled, though no humor shined through those dark eyes. “It can make her rather impulsive at times, yes? I love that about her. Unfortunately, when reality sets in, it… is hard for her. And in those moments, all I can do is love her all the more.

“Listen. There need not be any more play, or games. No punishments. Eva thought that you and I spending time together, outside of work, would help us grow closer. If you do not wish to do that then my wife and I will be enjoying the sun together. We would both love it if you joined us. You and I being there for her is better than nothing.”

Not wanting to put any further pressure on Katherine, he headed back out to his wife. And the closer he got to his gorgeous redheaded wife, the greater the pain in his chest. Ignoring it, and quietly wiping away a hint of moisture in his eyes, he slipped into the oversized lounge chair, pulling his resting wife into his arms.

“Sorta mild, as punishments go.” Eva mumbled, not quite opening her eyes.

Alex sighed. “Just building anticipation, mi caro.”

Halfway into the dining room, Katherine stopped as Alex called her name. Expecting a verbal lashing, she tensed up and readied for battle. Angered with her, Morello, nonetheless, apologized, recounting Eva’s wish that the two bond for the day. Kat listened defensively, her arms crossed over her chest like a shield. Slowly, she deflated to a less volatile state. However, criticizing her on the etiquette of BDSM didn’t go over well.

“You were there if she needed help or something –”

It was Katherine’s turn to surrender. The reporter stood in the dining room; her arms unfolded as Mr. Morello spoke of his wife and his great love for her. A hint of a smile passed along her face as he mentioned her child-like innocence. Kat nodded in agreement and listened until Morello finished.

“Thank you, Alex,” she said quietly. The lace cape followed Kat into the bedroom as she fell onto the bed, her body bouncing once. Unaccustomed to such high heels, her back and feet screamed in pain, and Cassatt struggled to remove the boots. Her feet were free; she wiggled her toes and arched her back. “Ughh.” Approaching 40, Kat felt her muscles strain after such exertion. Even her tongue was sore. “It’s not just the sub who needs aftercare, Alex.” Cracking her back, the journalist contemplated napping, but she caused friction in the household. It was best to mend the wound now.

Choosing comfort over fashion, Katherine slipped into a bikini and sandals before heading to the kitchen for drinks. Mixing three mai tais, Katherine set them on a wooden board with chilled fruit from the fridge and waltzed back to the pool. The reporter smiled as she saw Eva nestled in Alex’s arms. “You two look comfortable,” she commented, setting the drinks on a nearby table. “I hope you like mai tais,” Cassatt said with a shrug. “I figured something cool and refreshing would help with the heat.”

Sipping a drink and downing a piece of chilled apple, Kat knelt next to Eva, taking her hand. “I’m sorry that I ran off as I did. It was rude of me.” Her eyes cut toward Alex, sparkling rather than casting allegations. “I know my ultimatum caught you both by surprise, and for that, I apologize, but I can’t deny who I am. There are moments in which I wish we could all run off together, but that is not the reality.” The brunette leaned in and kissed Eva on the lips. Theirs was a tender kiss, lasting longer than expected. “I love you, Eva,” Kat said, their eyes meeting. “And I respect you, Alex. I respect your love for your wife and wish you all happiness.”

Standing away from Eva, Kat set her drink on the table. “Now, about your punishment.” The journalist smirked as her eyes focused on the redhead’s left foot. Quickly, she lightly tickled her sole, but only for a second. Eva looked too exhausted to endure much. “Just a suggestion, Alex. You will decide her fate, and I will be there to learn and study.” She frowned a little and took a seat in the adjacent lawn chair. A repeat of the afternoon was unlikely, but Kat was determined to rescue something from the afternoon.

Long fingers traced Eva’s arm from shoulder to wrist. “Since I seem to have ruined your plans, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” The journalist glanced at Alex in case she needed guidance again. The expression on her face was one of surrender, implying she would heed his words to the letter should Eva ask for anything.

Alex watched as Eva looked up at Kat. She glowed. Joy spread along those smooth lips like any woman deep in love. His own heart swelled, seeing his woman so happy as he propped himself up on one arm, his wife sprawled at his side.

“Join us,” Eva said, scooting herself slightly back, “there’s plenty of room, or at the very least scoot, one of the other lounges over.”

Alex, after joining his wife on her lounger had long since removed his shorts, often preferring to sunbathe without any apparel at all. Eva too remained in nothing more than the leather cuffs she had chosen for herself at the start of the day, and if nothing else, he found himself admiring her dedication, not only to her role for the day, but also her determination to see Katherine and himself become more than enemies with mutual respect.

Once all were situated, and Mai Tai drinks passed out, it was Eva who spoke first. “Honey,” she said after a long sip, “where was that club we went to? Was it in New York, or Amsterdam?”

Alex knew the club to which she referred. “It was Germany, was it not? The one where I trained.”

“Are you sure it was Germany?”

Alex sipped his drink, or rather made a show of it. Desperate not to anger Katherine again, he did not have the heart to tell her that he only took the role of Dom when sober, especially when his wife was the submissive. One missed knot, one misstrike of a flogger, one hand mistakenly tightened around a throat… that was all it took to turn a game into a devastating tragedy.

Alex shrugged. “It was a few years ago, Eva. It could have been Amsterdam, but I’m sure it wasn’t anywhere in the United States.

“Katherine. I am not sure you realize, but it is Eva who introduced me to this life of domination and submission. Eva is more than just a beautiful woman–as I am sure you are aware–as her husband, after we were married I was content to merely make love to my wife. But, some months in, she asked me to hit her.” Alex chuckled. “I looked at my bride, and apparently the look on my face was-”

“He looked like he was struck by lightning. Boy, he turned white as a sheet.” Eva smiled, as she cradled the Mai Tai loosely between her legs, each of her hands gently roaming up and down the legs of her lovers. Alex could do little to mask his arousal at his wife’s touch.

“Anyway,” Alex continued, his voice dropping half an octave as his wife continued to tease him. “What she had actually asked for was a spanking. When she explained it, I still felt… hesitant.”

“You flat out said ‘no.’” It was Eva’s turn to chuckle.

“Nonetheless, I detested the idea of bringing harm to her. My delicate, and beautiful wife. How could I do such a thing to her?” Alex hissed, as his wife’s fingers drew ever closer to his erection. And, as he looked over at Katherine, he could see that she too was quite aroused, her gaze fully upon Eva as she too was teased by the woman in the middle. “In the end, however, I did it. She knelt on the bed, and I let my open palm redden her backside. And then, something miraculous happened. Eva grew even more aroused. The more I struck her, and the more I made her cry out in pain, the wetter, and more wanton she became. And so, on that first night, I struck her and then I pleasured her.

“When she came, it was not unlike what you witnessed earlier. Her orgasm was so powerful, I worried I had caused her to pass out. I instantly drew her into my arms, and when she came around again, she merely smiled up at me, and thanked me. She said she couldn’t wait to do that again.”

“But he wouldn’t. In fact, he flat out refused. He told me we would either learn to do this safely, and with respect, or we would not do it at all. So, we found a club where we could learn more about BDSM. We both learned under a trained Dominatrix, and for a time even Alex submitted to the woman’s every need and desire. But, at the same time she taught him how to use the ropes, how to use all the toys and tools we knew we would both enjoy. There’s very little he’s done to me that he did not experience for himself. The difference is, I am aroused by pain. He is not.”

Alex moaned as Eva’s hand wrapped around his erection. She squeezed gently, and slowly started to stroke him. When he heard Katherine make a similar noise, he knew that Eva had found her sex as well. He did not take his eyes off the reporter, as both were teased by their mutual lover.

“And I take little pleasure from giving you pain still.” Alex said, licking his lips. Words were becoming more difficult to form. “But I do it because I know how you enjoy it.”

“You love the ropes though,” she said.

“I love the artistry of dressing a woman in ropes, yes. And I know that restraints can enhance a woman’s orgasm. That too pleases me. The rest? I love it because I know that you love it, and most of all, Eva, I love you.”

“And I,” Eva said, pushing her lovers deeper into mutual pleasure, “love you both. And today, I am your servant. Whatever either of you desire, I am here to provide. At least, that was the plan. This. Right here, all of us together, this is all I ever wanted. Katherine, I never expected you to be a domme at the expense of your own desires or comfort. And Alex, stop letting your frustration get the better of you.”

Alex groaned again. “Ah, Eva, god-fuck.”

“Not yet, Alex. You wait.”

He groaned again, gritting his teeth. But he knew what she wanted. He wanted him to come with Katherine. He never took his eyes off the other woman, who squirmed and made small noises. She too neared climax.

“I have earned punishment this morning, and if I have any say in the matter, you know what I deserve Alex.” Eva spoke far less like a submissive, and very much like a domme in her own right.

He could only groan in response, as he kept his eyes on Katherine. “Fuck. Fuck, no. Eva.”

“You know I love it.” She protested.

“I also know what it does to you.” He insisted. No, And “no” meant “no.” He wasn’t doing it. Period.

“Fine,” she huffed, stroking both her lovers more fererently now, and both Katherine and Alex squirmed. “You take her to the chest, and I humbly request that the two of you choose my punishment. Together. Just as you two will come together now, or not at all.”

Alex cursed under his breath, as Eva knew just the right motions to keep him on the edge. Squeezing, slowing, and evening reaching down to take his tender sack into her hands, rolling them around in her hands, until he felt half mad with need. And, as he fought to keep Katherine in focus, he knew she did not fare much better. “Ah, fuck, Eva. I agree.” He cursed again in italian.

Katherine gulped half her mai tai down before scooting over to Eva as asked. The reporter doubted one lounge chair would hold Alex, Eva, and herself, though it may have been fun to try. It looked like three naked Keystone Cops piled on top of one another as the chair gave way, which may have lessened Kat’s tension that afternoon, but she decided that the slapstick wasn’t exactly Alex’s fair. Maybe Morello and his wife frolicked in private, but the journalist couldn’t see the man letting go in her presence. He might accuse her of sabotage.

But the day belonged to Eva, and Kat would play along, smiling and nodding when appropriate. Fortunately, she found herself engrossed in the couple’s tale of discovery in the world of BDSM fascinating. It was no surprise to Cassatt that Eva was the one who introduced Alex to the lifestyle. Sipping on her mai tai again, she thought the only time Alex inflicted pain before Eva was for information or revenge. What amused Kat the most was the minor disagreement between Alex and Eva, as any couple would have. Where was the club? Amsterdam or Germany? The location wasn’t important, though the club and the story were vital to the couple and the moment. Both showcased their undying devotion to one another through lavish spectacle. The bungalow on Cypris was a prime example; they lived as if the world belonged to them alone. It was a romantic notion, but Cassatt knew the cost of that fantasy.

Of course, Alex wouldn’t want to hurt his wife. Such things were left for the ugly side of his business, and he would not wish to taint his love for her. That he did acquiesce was telling, especially as Mr. Morello disliked inflicting harm upon Eva. Who was the real dom? In her research, Katherine knew the basics. The submissive always maintained power. It was an unwritten rule between doms and subs. Control, both taking and releasing, was a core theme in any BDSM relationship, and safety was paramount. The couple practiced safety to a heightened degree. Katherine did not doubt this would always be the case. Those who didn’t were ostracized or criticized by the scene. The perception of kink wasn’t aided by its slow, but ever-increasing headway into the mainstream. And no one had done more harm to a lifestyle than E. L. James had done to BDSM.

As the couple’s story neared its conclusion, Katherine knew that Eva had been manipulating her and Alex for some time. The redhead’s slender white fingers had slithered across her thighs, woven through her fur, and nearly penetrated her dripping sex. At the same time, Alex eyed her and not his wife. She thought to turn away as she squirmed under Eva’s touch, but seeing his growing erection and feeling his eyes covet her naked body, Kat allowed her mind to wander.

Kat found herself kneeling before Alex. She wore a collar. He held the leash. She hated him. She despised him but wanted him. Alex’s smile grew as wide as his erection. He tugged on the leash. Katherine opened her mouth and took him in. Morello did nothing but stand and enjoy her lips around his throbbing cock. Cassatt sucked on the member, her head bobbing as she teased and massaged the penis with her wet, hot tongue. He moaned in enjoyment. Katherine hated herself yet could not stop. She sped up as he grabbed her hair. Her lips tightened, adding friction to the balance. The man grunted and shot into her mouth. Katherine swallowed as much as possible, then licked the residue from Morello’s cock. Cassatt smiled at him as he caressed her cheek like she was a mewling kitten. Perhaps she was.

Across from Eva, Alex let out a final, strenuous grunt, cumming over his wife’s delicate hand. At the same time, Kat arched her back, letting out a deep moan as she, too, came through Eva’s talented fingers. Eyes fluttering, Katherine brought her lover’s hand to her lips and licked herself off the woman’s fingers.

“But I like being teased,” Kat said as she finally spoke. Looking only at Eva, the woman laughed and stood from the lounge. “Maybe we’ll make you watch Barney the purple dinosaur for 72 hours straight. They did that in Abu Ghraib.”

Following Alex into the living room where the couple kept their chest of toys, Kat knelt as Morello opened the Pandora’s box. “What wonders do we have inside?” she asked teasingly. As promised, Cassatt let Alex take the lead. “This is rather embarrassing, but I did write a few articles on the scene only after my editor folded to the ’50 Shades of Grey’ phenomenon.” She chuckled, remembering his initial reaction to the book. “He originally thought it was about tea and couldn’t understand why a book about the color of tea would sell so well.”

The journalist was nervous but peeked inside the box as Alex could tell. She recognized a few items from the nights prior. “There’s the little bugger than nearly did me in,” Cassatt said, picking up the small vibe Alex used on her. “Hey, at least I can joke about it now,” she said, putting the evil thing back in its place.

Suddenly, Katherine began to laugh. She laughed so hard the woman had to lean on the chest as tears streamed down her face. “You know – you know, if I wrote this scene, my editor would fire me.” Kat wiped her eyes, catching a breath. “You kidnap me, and here we are naked, scrambling together in some toy box to please your wife. A wife who, and you said so yourself, thinks like a child that we, divorced parents, would get together.” Placing her hand on his, Kat dipped her hand in the box unthinkingly. “And there is my attraction toward you that I hate but cannot seem to shake.” She pulled out a stainless-steel butt plug and made a sour face, adding, “I think not.” She placed it back in the box.

“It’s all so absurd,” Kat continued as she finally began looking for a toy in earnest. Picking up a cat-o-nine-tails, she held it up. “A few lashes to the rump? Not too hard?” She shrugged. “I’m not into giving pain either. Well, not physical pain. My editor groans when he reads my spelling.” She gave Alex a smirk and leaned back against the open chest. “You’re the expert; you pick something.” While the man rummaged, Kat watched and wondered. “I’m afraid to ask, but what did she want you to do to her?”

Alex brought Kat’s hand up to his lips, planting a light, lingering kiss. He nodded, and acknowledged her words as she spoke, frowning only when she spoke of 50 Shade of Grey, a story worthy of only a mild, passing respect, despite its intent. The smile he gave her, however, was one that filled his dark eyes. His own feelings–not quite love, but something close–for the woman grew the more she spoke, and laughed. Her take on their situation, sounded more and more ridiculous to the point that even he laughed out loud. When he finally calmed again, a tension that had rested between the unlikely pair, had almost lightened. Almost.

He felt her eyes rest upon him, as he absently started organizing the chest–something he had wanted to do for awhile. As he carefully recoiled a disheveled TENS unit, he listened to Kat’s question. “I’m afraid to ask, but what did she want you to do to her?”

“That object is not in this chest.” He said, the look in his eyes darkening slightly. “She is hinting toward the bamboo cane. I keep it in our bedroom closet. I know it is something that many use safely in our lifestyle, but unfortunately, I also know of its other uses. I do not care for how closely it treads–”

He did not need to finish his sentence for Katherine to understand. And, their short-lived spell broke and the tension between them returned. He looked into her eyes, and that usual judgment was there again. Morello the monster. Killer of children and starter of wars. He only gave her a smile of acceptance and understanding. He could not deny her such thoughts. He would not. She was, afterall, correct. And she was, tragically, going to sacrifice herself, and pay the price of his sins.

His chest ached, and he looked back into the chest, putting more things back into the places he preferred. How long had he neglected this chest for?

“One slip with a cane, and a person could be seriously, and permanently harmed. Too light, and the tool is useless. Too hard, and a submissive will be in pain for days after.” Alex started organizing the plugs from smallest to largest. He did not even know why they had these. Eva was not much for anal pleasure, often stating she found it to be more a punishment. Alex then remembered–the plugs were a gift from a former submissive friend. Though they had only a few lovers join their bed over the years, such liaisons were always fleeting. Usually not more than a one night affair.

“And yet, with Eva, if I strike her in just the right way, she is instantly aroused. Instantly ready. Once, she even came from it. I, in all honesty, have never seen anything like it. Even she cannot give a clear explanation for why she finds pleasure in it.” Alex looked up at Katherine. “That is just the way it is for some people. Just as you too are only starting to discover your own loves and hates for this lifestyle.

“And so I must ask. We are, for the time being, resting comfortably in Eva’s web of desire. Beautiful and innocent as it is, it is us at her mercy today, as you have surely realized. But, what are your thoughts? What is it you desire? Do we give our woman what she wishes for? Do you watch casually from the sidelines?” Alex reached over, pushing back a stray strand of Kat’s still wild flowing mane of hair–she suddenly reminded him of a warrior. Untamed, and powerful, she was not unlike a large cat, the look in her eyes almost feral, and there was no mistaking her willingness to protect herself and all she held dear. The look suited her well, especially as she knelt before an adult’s toy chest, her emotions waffling from mirth, to anger, and to stress at unmeasured intervals. “Or do you wish to join Eva? I will, of course, respect all desires, and limits.”

Kat gave Alex a Princess Diana smile as he kissed her hand. By that, it meant Katherine titled her head low and to one side, conveying a submissive stance but with intented interest in what Morello was saying. Her subtle and sublime smile completed the look. None of it was fake, which surprised Kat most of all.

When Alex laughed with Kat, she felt it was their first genuine moment. For a few seconds, he seemed to let go. But, too soon, Morello was back in control, surveying the chest for the right toy. When he brought out the TENS, she couldn’t help herself.

“Shocking, isn’t it.” Kat scrunched her nose at the terrible pun, and everything fell apart again.

A bamboo cane. Cassatt shivered at the thought. Caning existed in the 21st century as corporal punishment in certain parts of the world. She recalled the American boy that the Singapore government caned in the 1990s. The brutal event took place during the Clinton Administration, but she couldn’t remember the person’s name.

“I do not care for how closely it treads—”

Kat turned away. She could see Morello in a darkened room, somewhere out of sight and far away—a man, likely bound in some fashion, shirtless, at the least, and afraid. Cassatt wondered if – no, his near admission confirmed it. He, Alexander Morello, struck the blows. There was begging, then screams, and finally whelps and blood. The pain, given Morello’s temper, lasted for days. And Eva enjoyed such agony? The journalist understood the appeal of the pain/pleasure dynamic, but what the cane provided was torture.

Kat’s hand lightly trembled as she brushed the hair away from her face. Turning back, her eyes locked with his, and she saw the monster return, but more, she saw acceptance. Moving away from the box, Kat wrapped her arms around her legs, pulling her knees to her chest. Morello spoke of his wife’s desires, and for a moment, Katherine understood. To Eva, pain was beautiful. However, the reporter disagreed with Morello’s analysis, saying that some people were just that way, yet the woman remained silent as Alex turned the conversation to her. Leaning back on the chest, she knelt beside Alex as he asked what she wanted.

“I’m an adrenaline junkie. Where some people like to jump out of planes or rush into a burning building, I love getting the scoop. You know, I want to be first. I was quite the bitch about it, too, and made my share of mistakes that cost me a few jobs. And all this?” She gestured at the chest and toward the pool, “It was terrifying at first but also intriguing because fear is intoxicating. I think …” She stopped, unsure if this was the right moment to open herself further. Looking down at her naked body, the absurdity of it all returned. “I like being afraid. Whether it’s a roller-coaster, a scary movie, or a fantasy about an unknown man entering my bedroom uninvited, I enjoy that little adrenaline boost from being scared. But, aside from the occasional faulty roller-coaster, none of these experiences are real. The last one especially.” Kat violently shook her head. “I have no desire to be raped. No woman does, but …” Her tone softened as she looked up to him and tapped her temple with her index finger. “Inside my mind, I’m safe. I’m in charge.”

Katherine glanced at the door that led to the pool. “Maybe that’s why Eva likes it. She knows she’s safe and in charge, as you said.”

She surprised herself again in admitting her addiction to fear, especially to someone like Alex. He could take her at any time. Shaking her head, Cassatt stood from the floor. Her breasts swayed as she took Alex by the hand. “I want to join her, but this is her day.” Katerine caressed the man’s cheek. “Once I release the story, someone will come for me. Maybe I can make a deal, but I just said that to comfort Eva.” She took the man’s hand, her finger circling his palm. “Let her have that fantasy. But you get the truth, and you can shrug it off if you are a monster, as you claim.”

Kat jerked her hand away. “I’ll let you give Eva what she wants. With your guidance, I’ll tend to the pleasure side of things.” Fearful for letting a wolf off his leash, Kat turned her back on the infamous arms dealer to join his wife again.

100

He took a firm, but equally gentle grip on Katherine’s arm, stopping her. Closing in, he gently pulled her around to face him, and both hands found her shoulders, massaging her as much as holding her in place.

He did little to hide the sadness lurking behind his smile as he sighed. “Mio caro giornalista,” his hand massaged up her shoulders, neck, until fingers rested beneath her chin, while the pad of his thumb traced along her lips. “It is not simply ‘her day.’ At least, it is not in her mind. It is our day. That is Eva’s need. The thing she desires. She does not merely wish that we dominate and play with her. She wants us. All of us. Together. She wants Ménage à Trois in its purest, most meaningful form. You choosing to be at her side in submission would most certainly honor her. And knowing you are at her side, that you are there for her…” Alex swallowed as his obsidian gaze sank into that of pure blue. He did not need to exert effort as he tilted the woman’s head upward, gently planting his lips against hers. Lips parted and soon their bodies molded against one another as his hands roamed down Katherine’s back until his hands cupped her buttocks, pulling her even closer.

New hands soon found them both. Hands he knew better than his down. And it was not long before a voice carried through the air. “I love you both so much.”

Alex smiled against Katherine’s lips, one of his hands reaching for Eva where she had stalked up behind. As he did so, he welcomed Katherine turning in his arms, giving the women their moment of union, where they too shared a long, and loving kiss. Watching them, he pulled back the reporter’s long mane of golden brown hair, before savoring the woman’s bare flesh; tracing loving kisses along her neck and shoulder, while his hands roamed along her hips.

“Eva, your discipline for your earlier mistake will come soon,” his tone turned husky, but no less commanding, “but at this moment, I wish for you to kneel before Katherine. You will pleasure her. When you sense that she is close to release, you will stop. You will deny her, and you will wait. When her body has calmed you will begin again. She is not to have release until I am ready for her to do so.

“And you, “Mio caro giornalista, you will spread your legs, and remain still with your hands behind your back like so.” Alex ran his hands down her arms, lifting them up gently, and resting them at the small of her back where one hand wrapped gently around the other forearm. When her hands remained still, he reached around, cupping each of Katherine’s breasts, pulling her back slightly to lean against his chest. “While she pleasures you, I am going to bind you. You will know safety and control as your senses ride the glorious adrenaline of torment, and fear, while the woman you love licks and suckles your womanhood.”

Alex only stepped away when he trusted that Katherine would remain steady on her feet. He then quietly stalked around, crouching behind his wife as he reattached the hooks that bound her elbows and wrists together. This did not deter Eva’s efforts as Katherine started to gasp and moan. Alex did not deny his own pleasure, as he enjoyed his wife’s appearance with shoulders rolled back, back arched, and breasts present more freely and openly for pleasure and pain in equal measure. Though Alex did not particularly enjoy the infliction of discomfort, he could never deny Eva such sensations that she often equated to “pure euphoria.”

When Eva stopped, her large almond eyes turned upward, unfocused, but no less tender. She gave her lover a shimmering grin that simply said I love you. Pleased, Alex stood and left the women just long enough to gather ropes. When he returned, he took his time binding Katherines wrists, and arms–wrapping, coiling, braiding. He enjoyed it most when it was slow. Shibari was an art, not mere restraints or control. Everything from the color of the ropes, to their placement mattered as much as paint on a canvas. He wanted his submissive both comfortable and uncomfortable. Safe, with only a subtle hint of fear and uncertainty; Excitement, and nerves. Katherine had become his perfect submissive, as she allowed all these emotions to come to life at once, and then challenge him all the same. He adored her feistiness, and unmatched courage. He loved her acceptance, even when masked by denial.

“Katherine,” Alex walked around the woman, inspecting his box tie. “You will tell me immediately if any appendage begins to tingle or numb. Do you understand?”

He waited for her only appropriate response.

“Eva.” He looked down at his wife. “You may allow her release now, but only one. We do not wish to tire our lady too soon.”

Alex held Katherine, massaging both her breasts as Eva inched closer, burying her already drenched lips deeper inside. Gently, he spread the bound woman’s legs, forcing her to present her behind ever so slightly. “What you are about to feel may be intense, but you will not be hurt. It will feel warm at first, blood racing to flesh to soothe the sting, but it will be fleeting. And soon, the endorphins in your brain will release, and my hand on your ass will feel as pleasurable as my wife’s ministrations. You may ask me to stop at any time, and I will do so, but it will not end our play. Only your safeword will do that.

“Tell me honestly, do you wish for this experience?”

He waited for the reporter’s response.

101

On her way back to the patio, Katherine wasn’t surprised when Alex took hold of her arm. His gentleness never ceased to amaze her in the face of disappointment or disapproval. The massage he offered led to a tender moment between the two that Kat accepted. Allowing Alex to guide her, the two kissed in a heated embrace. She felt his erection next to her skin but paid it little mind. As her hands moved over muscled shoulders, Kat wondered if this moment encapsulated all she craved.

Yes and no.

Thoughts of carnal savagery squirmed within her mind. Morello would take her to the couch or the bed; anywhere was sufficient. Then, he would fuck her like an animal. There would be much pain, and Kat would only ask for more. But such fantasies were fleeting. A warm embrace and a soft voice broke the enchantment. Katherine smiled as Alex kissed her, but Eva’s lips brought a giddiness to her heart. How could she think of pain when enraptured by such bliss? Soft arms coiled around Kat as lips pressed against her neck. At that moment, she loved them both.

By now, Katherine knew the steps of the Morellos’ playstyle and when to obey. Listening to Alex as he spoke, she watched as Eva knelt before her. A rush of adrenaline sped through her veins when Kat learned she was to be denied. Moreover, she would be bound, her arms at the small of her back, allowing her breast to thrust forward. Already, she felt helpless and scared, and she loved every moment of it. Eva began her work, lovingly lapping at her lover’s cunt, toying with every fleshy bit. Kat was on edge in seconds. As he explained her fate, Alex molded her breasts, squeezing, kneading, and compounding the brunette’s pleasure.

Mr. Morello stepped out of the room, allowing Kat to focus on her lover’s tongue. The journalist spread her legs further apart to stay sturdy, giving Eva a larger area to torment. Tiny moans fluttered from Cassat’s lips as she endured, waiting for Alex to return. Eva’s tongue danced around her clit, arousing and tempting the violently sensitive bud yet never allowing her to surrender to release. Coupled with the bound woman’s teases on her folds, Katerine stumbled once as her knees grew weak. The pleasure from Eva was a bliss she had come to know and love. In those brief moments before Alex’s return, Kat thought of surrendering entirely to the couple. Her wetness covered Eva’s face as the pleasure rose. Kat moaned louder. She was close, but dear god, she loved this form of torture. But as bare feet patted back to her, Cassatt momentarily froze, taking her out of the zone.

Panting, Kat waited patiently as Alex bound her arms and hands. The process was far gentler and more tedious than she expected. Her body tugged and jerked with every pull and nudge that Alex gave. Eva continued teasing Kat’s sex as the reporter’s thigh quivered.

Fear, pleasure, and anticipation covered the journalist like a warm blanket. Heroine addicts often spoke of that first injection as being covered in a contented warmth. The feeling was beyond pleasure, but as Alex called it, bottomless desire. After testing the bindings, Cassat nodded, saying she was secure and felt no unintended ill effects. “It’s fine, sir. All is fine.”

Sir?

Where the hell did that come from? So perplexed was she that Kat didn’t immediately respond to Alex’s question. “Ehm, yes. I think so …” She began to chuckle until Eva licked her slit slowly. “Ohhhh god, Yes,” she nodded. “I am … nugghh … positive, sir.”

Something about her surrender, drove the woman wild. Katherine was so close she could feel the building orgasm near its peak. Her pussy began convulsing like a hungry animal, desperate and starving. And then, Eva stopped.

“Noo …”

Just a little bit further, Kat would have been over the edge. Her thigh ached. The journalist heard Morello’s calming voice behind her, warning her of the coming slap. Begging eyes gazed down at Eva, desperate and needy.

She felt Alex’s body move just milliseconds before he struck her. The slap against her cheeks stung, though not as much as she feared. Was he holding back or warming up? Absorbing the hit, Katherine’s body wobbled, but she maintained her footing.

“They died because of you!” her editor screamed. “Two brave marines gave their life so a spoilt little rich girl could pretend she was Woodward and Bernstein.”

The orgasm that was so close faded away as the pain lingered. Katherine had not been spanked since she was a little girl, and then her father could only muster a singular whop against her padded backside. The warmth Alex promised remained as he slapped her again. The woman lurched forward as she hissed. Eva caught her lover between her pleading legs. Euphoria returned.

“They threatened my kid, Kat. MY KID! They know where I live! You should never have released that information. They will kill you, Kat! You will die screaming.”

It took little time for Eva to entice Katherine into desperation once more. Alex gave Cassat another strike on the rump as the redhead paused again. Each one escalated in pain and tolerance.

“Auuhh!”

That one hurt. The pain lingered longer, intertwining with the blissful need built up between her legs. Pain became a pleasure, and pleasure transformed into a devilish ache that laughed at Katherine’s resolve. A sheen of sweat glistened over her body. Curls of brown and blonde hair fell into a drenched matte plastered to her face, neck, and shoulders. The Morellos attacked again, alternating their bombardments.

“Gahhh! Stop! Stop!”

The couple obliged as wheezing Cassat caught her breath. Every muscle in her body was sore. Her legs quivered. Her back and arms ached from the binding. And her ass felt like it was on fire. But it was the unbearable need that taunted her the most. Yet, her mind was pudding, a mash of endorphins and dopamine. The Morellos seemed to need a break as Alex stepped out.

“Eva Morello? Eva Braum is more like it, and you love her? Jesus, Kat, I knew you were fucked up, but – you deserve this.”

Her editor’s face twisted in fear and anger deep within Kat’s mind. Many times, he was her conscience, but he was never judgmental. His voice echoed again and again in her mind. She should have stopped this when they let her out of their sight. She should speak her safe word and disappear at night, betraying the two lovers as soon as possible. But that betrayal would sting both ways now. Eva wouldn’t last in prison if she surrendered at all. More likely, the Morellos would die than live a life apart. There would be no betrayal nor freedom from guilt.

Kat slowly knelt to Eva until they were eye to eye. Both guilt and love were written across her face. “I think I understand.”

102

Though he could not fully hear Katherine’s words, as she faced his wife, he could not help but smirk as her face lit up, and Eva leaned forward answering the other woman with a kiss. As both women were bound, they could do little other than play with lips and tongues–a beautiful sight to behold—while struggling to inch closer to one another.

Perhaps, in another time, he would find himself content to merely watch the women struggle and please one another. His disappointed sigh nearly echoed through the space that allowed the living room, the dining room, and master bedroom to intersect. The cool tiles beneath the women’s knees would be cool, and neither would feel it, enraptured as they were, and in his bare feet padded quietly as he closed the distance. And gently, he stroked each woman’s hair, encouraging them for a few moments.

“It is time.” His words were soft as he gently coaxed the women to separate. For the session he had decided to remain nude, himself, and his erection stood at full attention between the two women. But, he would seek his own pleasure later. This moment was about them–Eva and Katherine–a consummation. For Katherine and himself? A treaty. His eyes burned as liquid obsidian, his gaze resting on his wife as he displayed the object in his hand: a rather large, wine-red ball gag.

She blinked back up at him, her smile fading as she pleaded with her eyes. Please no. Not that one. It was slightly larger than the others, and yet he could not deny how beautifully this one filled her mouth, the darker shade of red a perfect complement to her porcelain skin, and hair of fire. His smirk answered her unspoken question, as he moved behind her, lowering the ball to her lips, his grip firm on the thick leather strap. Slowly she opened her mouth, and he worked the sphere into her mouth, careful not to put too much strain upon her jaw. He secured it snugly, making sure he did not pull, or catch any strands of her hair. When he finished, he stroked her hair, using just enough force to pull her head back, and she could let out no more than a low, guttural sound.

Pulling a wayward strand away from her face, he could only smile down at the woman. “Sei bellissima, non importa cosa indossi.”

She grunted again, a bead of drool trickling from the corner of her mouth. He did not look at the other woman as he addressed her, as he straightened his wife’s head. “Katherine, she does not like this gag, as it is quite large. Perhaps you might comfort her with another kiss. She is now quite uncomfortable.”

His hands fell to rest upon Eva’s shoulders, pulling her back a bit to lean against him, his erection making a mess of her locks. He watched as the other woman slowly leaned forward to plant a kiss upon the gag, and watched those blue eyes, sparkling with curiosity, fear, anger, and yet, even through the range of the other woman’s feelings there was something else… something more. And yet, as Kahterine’s lips found Eva’s cheek, jaw, and slowly tracing along the woman’s neck, Alex would stop the woman before bending down much further, denying her the joys of his wife’s breasts.

Instead, he moved around and guided the brunette to stand up. He then helped Eva to her feet, and with one woman for each arm, he led them into the master bedroom–a space that Kat had not entered.

Like any space owned by the Morello’s, it could have earned a feature in any major magazine, or interior fashion blog. Warm gray walls, just dark enough to give the illusion of shadow, were offset only by rich creams, and clean, sandy woodtones. The only accents in the room were the light dusky blue of the bed’s coverlet, and a few decorative pillows. The far door to the left led to a large master bathroom, and just further in one would find a large walk-in closet.

Pulled out from the bed, was a rather narrow, but sturdy all wood bench, and large floor pillow laid out at one end. It was there Alex Morello led his bound women. “Eva, you will straddle the bench, and Katherine, you will kneel on the pillow.”

As the women did as commanded, Alex strolled to the bed to collect the first of several items set out upon the bed: several coils of rope, a long aluminum bar with hooks on the end a small pair of silicone balls, connected together, and lastly, a narrow wooden stick with a black handle.

He began with the Ben Wa balls, moving in close to Katherine. He dangled the object before her, before setting them on the pillow between her legs, as he fondled her breasts, teasing her nipples until they were hard–pinching them only once to remind her that pain itself could serve as a powerful aphrodisiac. And soon, as his hands caressed her hips, and buttocks–still warm from his earlier treatment–his fingers found their way between her folds, where he rubbed his finger along her delicate, and already sensitive clitoris. He focused on her every reaction, keeping her within his control–teasing her with no promise of release any time soon. But, even that did not stop him from slipping a finger inside her sex, and after a few strokes, he pleasured her with two fingers. When he removed them, his fingers were damp, and he was satisfied. Picking up the Ben Wa balls, he rubbed them over Katherine’s dripping wet sex, coating them in her arousal on all sides before slipping them into her vagina. He briefly checked the cord hung freely between her legs, for later removal.

With the ropes, he did not need much time to bind the reporter’s ankles. He added more ropes just below the knee, just above above, and then one more set a few inches above that. With one more length of rope, he connected her ankles to the cross-section of ropes just below her shoulder blades, careful to connect it so that it would not tug, or tighten anywhere he did not wish. He left the bound reporter with just enough tether to bend forward, but at the expense of balance, and safety from gravity.

His last attention to Katherine was to tie her hair back into a simple ponytail, pulling it back from her face. He then twisted it up and around, securing it with a simple clip, so that her hair fanned out behind her, making her look to be the warrior she truly was. “There,” he said, as he walked around to the woman, his fingers brushing along her face, “that will make things easier.” He smiled, “I should hold a mirror up to you, give you a moment to admire how fierce, and beautiful you look in this moment. It is… something.”

But, for now, his warrior reporter would need to be patient as he turned to his wife. Taking the spreader, he slipped it under the bench, instructing her to spread her legs wide. Before attaching her, he unhooked the d-rings at her wrists and elbow, and bid her lie down on her back. He gave her time to shift and adjust herself for comfort. The bench was narrow enough that her rounded buttocks did not quite fit, but her shoulder blades rested comfortably on either side of the seat’s edge. Eva’s breasts giggled a bit as she adjusted herself, and Alex could not help himself as he let his hands roam about her ample cleavage.

“Do you wish a pillow for your back, la mia dolce moglie?” he asked as he knelt down, attaching the spreader to her ankles. When she nodded, making a small muffled noise through her gag, he quickly got a small narrow pillow, and slipped it into her small back. Eva visibly relaxed against the bench, and with a nod, he re-bound her wrists beneath the bend, and added rope to a second set of hooks to pull her arms taut, and secure it to the spreader. The rope itself was more a mercy, than restraint, as her arms would tire more slowly than if they dangled.

Standing again, he leaned forward, as his knuckles caressed her cheek as she looked up at him hungrily.

“You made a mistake this morning. Do you remember?”

Eva nodded.

Alex smirked, “indeed. You had an orgasm before permission was given.” His fingers played through her already mussed ginger locks, before he rested his hand upon her brow. “For that mistake, I will use the cane. Do you accept?”

His wife’s cheeks flushed, and lips parted. She swallowed only once before nodding. For a second her eyes drifted down the line of her own body towards Katherine, a smile shining through her eyes, where her mouth could not move. Alex recognized the excitement, and wonder. Her eyes said it all.

With a single nod, Morello bid both women remain still as he retrieved the cane from the bed. By design, the cane was shorter than one might think, but it was a cane that allowed far more control and safety during play, without sacrificing pain to one who knew how to wield it just right. And, though many thought of bamboo when exacting corporal punishment, the cane was actually made from rattan–a far safer and more durable tool.

He approached Katherine with the tool in his hand, though he held it loosely at his side. “Mio caro giornalista, you may choose to merely watch. I have you sitting here so you may view my wife’s arousal build with every stroke of my cane. Or, you have to lean forward. You are close enough that if you wish to tempt balance and gravity you may taste and tease her, and perhaps we may both remind her the ecstasy of heaven, and hell.”

Stalking close to Eva, his fingers tracing along the top of her thigh, and then her belly, he presented the cane. “I will not give you a count of strokes today. Instead, I will strike you until you orgasm. Do you understand?”

His wife nodded. Her eyes stared up at him, wide amber irises surrounded by whites. If he did not know better he would think her afraid. And though he knew nerves coursed through her veins, it only heightened her arousal and need. For her, the waiting was as powerful as the punishment.

Positioning the cane over her right breast, he started slowly; just a very light, rapid tap, tap, tap. Eva squirmed slightly, her body without the clearance to do much in the way of struggling. And still he assaulted her with the gentle, rapid taps. Such a light motion would not be painful, but then again, repeated sensation in the same place over and over–frustration became the greatest torment. But, soon enough he raised the cane a little bit higher, and using little more than his forefinger, he guided the cane down with a cold, almost mechanical application of force and control.

Eva cried out through her gag, the most audible sound she had made since the object entered her mouth, where drool was a near steady stream from the corners of her mouth. The red welt on her breast showed up almost immediately, a consequence of her pale skin. But Alex did not slow down. Just below the brightening welt, he resumed his “gentle” taps. Over and over again, until without warning, he added the force. Again, Eva cried out, her body wanting to struggle and buck. Her wide, dark eyes started to well up, but, sure enough, between her legs her wetness–and her desire were plain to see. Her thighs trembled, as she shifted and struggled more while the second welt started to form, an even inch below the first.

Before Alex could even resume, she let out another muffled cry, and then another. What she wanted to say, however, neither Alex, nor Katherine would manage to make it out. And, knowing his wife all too well, he knew she was not trying to convey her safe word–or signal by tapping her feet. No. She wanted something, but it certainly was not to stop. And, therefore, he continued building her up again for a third welt. And then a fourth.

By that point, he could only give Katherine a smirk–one he realized he was starting to give only her. As she struggled and reached, she started to stretch her tongue out, to soothe Eva’s pain the only way she could.

103

Lips met, conveying emotions words could not express. Wet, warm, hungry – each kiss exasperated Katherine’s aching need. Her mind, clouded by lust, painted a world where she and Eva existed alone. Life would exist as desire, love, and torment, existing as Eva’s love slave, eager to serve and drink in the luscious denial only another woman could provide. Yet a shadow loomed over such hopes with a smirk that spoke volumes about his intent. Katherine pulled away, her lips plump and sore from Eva’s kisses.

A shared fear slithered through Eva and Katherine once Alex produced the wine-colored ball gag. Katherine watched helplessly as Eva’s pleading eyes begged for mercy. What was this, the journalist wondered. How often did Morello insist he was not fond of punishing his wife? Was it all an act, Kat wondered, or something more complex? A dance. Yes. For Eva and her husband, this was a dance. He led, setting the pace, but he always demanded her adherence. The ball gag was a spin or a dip, a symbol of trust – a moment of discomfort that crescendoed into something akin to art. It was give and take, pull and push that shaped this couple’s life into memories neither would ever forget. Life, once experienced, was a series of moments created within the brain, though not entirely as they occurred. Eva’s frightened eyes and that large ball between her lips would follow Kat into her old age. She would recall this moment with equal parts desire and disgust.

“She doesn’t want it,” Katherine said. The words spat out before she could think. Of course, the brunette wanted it. Eva could deny and scream all she wanted, but the play would continue until one specific signal was initiated. The feeling of pain and ecstasy that Kat endured only moments before came back to her, and this was Eva’s turn, but she was far more experienced at this dance than Kat.

Subjected to her fate, Kat glared her blue eyes up to Morello when he suggested that she comfort Eva. Was it a suggestion? Did it matter? In that space of time, it didn’t matter as Katherine leaned in and began planting kisses on the wine-colored gag. Feeling Eva’s warmth, yet unable to fully embrace her, was a new torture. The two couldn’t kiss, but that did not deter Cassatt. Tasting Eva’s saliva, Katherine guided her lips over the redhead’s chin, cheeks, and jaw. Planting subtle, warm nibbles on the woman’s neck, she heard Eva’s moans, which spurred her on to move toward the woman’s breasts.

Eva’s breasts were a sight to behold – firm, round, soft. How many times had Katherine enjoyed the mounds of flesh? Sucking on white skin, Kat loved the little groans her touch produced in Eva, tantalizing her before meeting her nipples. How long would Cassatt suck on those pink buds, feeling them harden with her tongue? An eternity? God, she wished such things were possible and not fairy tales.

Kat’s tongue traced the vein in Eva’s neck when Alex pulled them apart. Grunting, Kat yearned to return but was guided to her feet like Eva. Like prisoners on the last walk, that was how Kat felt about the short journey to Morello’s bedroom. Of course, the room was beautiful in a sparse way, but that was the way they liked it, or Kat thought. A funny thought ran through the journalist’s mind: she never asked all the decorating questions she prepared for Mrs. Morello.

Alex showed off his instruments for the women’s torture. One item stuck out – the cane. Blue eyes blared at her captor. “You said you wouldn’t do that.” Immediately, she was reminded of their conversation near the treasure chest, and that look she and Alex shared. Katherine watched her lover for further signs of discomfort. The woman struggled to adhere to her husband’s demands but was not afraid for her life. Kat, still angered with the man before her, remained silent, and she would not stand in her way if Eva genuinely wanted this.

It wasn’t long before the scene was staged. Kat knelt on a pillow as commanded, her ass still burning from the earlier spanking. Her breasts, nipples, and sex were manipulated to allow her vagina to slicken. Closing her eyes, Katherine grunted and shifted as the Ben Wa balls were inserted. Her aching pussy seemingly cried out as it convulsed again. She dared not to move, or the balls would do their wicked work. Bound as she was, Kat would suffer denial as she watched Alex secure his wife.

Tugging and pulling at her arms and legs, Kat held a cold silence as Alex bound her, and yet, this small preparation turned her on. Was it the helplessness? Vulnerability? Katherine Cassatt was a fierce woman. Alex commented on her trait when he was finished. The Ben Wa balls did their job, assaulting her from within. “Mmhhrrmm,” Kat growled like a panther as the pleasure mounted and watched Alex condition his wife for her punishment. The lust built up inside her, washed away when the man spoke of what he had planned. She shook her head, wanting to yell out her safe word, but the look in Eva’s eyes pleaded with Cassatt – she wanted this. Alex had said so himself.

Kat turned away before Alex began Eva’s punishment. He explained what she could do, and given her current bondage, there was nothing she could do but nod in acceptance, but she would not be a bystander. She would find a way to help her lover during her struggle. Cassatt closed her eyes, her heart pounding, readying herself for Eva’s punishment. The first tap made such a soft sound that Katerine barely noticed it. Only Eva’s slight muffled grunt alerted the reporter that anything had occurred.

With her back bound to her legs, any movement was tricky, and the Ben Wa balls inside her would show no mercy. Still, at the second tap, Katherine opened her eyes, turning her head just enough to see into Eva’s chocolate orbs—more than anything, she wanted to reach out and hold her lover through the ordeal.

Alex let the cane slap Eva’s breasts. Kat flinched and yelped. Pink whelps formed quickly over Morello’s ivory skin. Cassatt’s anger rose, her safe word on the tip of her tongue, but Eva never left her sight: another strike and another. Katherine’s body jolted each time. Suddenly, she and Alex knew Eva was trying to communicate through subdued cries. Blue eyes traced Eva’s porcelain body from her eyes, over her bruised breasts, and to her yearning for sex. As carefully as she could, Kat inched closer to her lover. The Ben Wa balls tormented her every move. Straining, Kat lowered herself face-first between the bound woman’s legs. The heat and scent, coupled with the torment within her sex, drove the woman mad with delirium. She wanted to scream or laugh or cry, but Cassatt, instead, let her tongue slide across the bound woman’s sex.

I will strike you until you orgasm.

Those words lingered on Cassatt’s mind while she lapped Eva’s folds. The redhead’s pussy was dripping with juices as Kat licked, edging the woman enough to bring her closer to orgasm. If Eva were anything like Kat, the very thought of more denial would immediately elevate her lust. But unlike Alex, the brunette was merciful, inching her way down to Eva’s sex. Kat’s tongue and lips pushed through familiar territory, finding the woman’s clit. With an insatiable hunger, Katherine licked and sucked the sensitive bud, intent on having her lover orgasm quickly and ending her punishment.

Flipping through her phone again, Emily rested on the one photo of Eva and the reporter. It was a souvenir. She knew it was bad business to keep trophies, but Horn couldn’t help it. The woman was needy. “I’m bored,” sighed Emily, lounging on the deck of the 50-meter yacht. “Let’s go out tonight. I know a fun place in Crete. Lot’s of cool guys for me and you.”

Diaz opened his eyes and squinted at the harsh afternoon sun. Lost in memory with his late partner, the arms dealer shifted a glare at the caramel-toned woman across the deck. “We stay on this yacht. The only time we move is to relocate this yacht. We do not go dancing, clubbing, dining, or anything.” The man stood, an angry grimace twisting his face. “DO YOU UNDESTAND?”

The lounge chair skirted across the deck as Emily bolted, heading for the cabin. Esteban sighed in indignation and followed her. Slamming the door, Horn marched toward her bedroom. “I’ve had it,” she shouted. “Take me back to Grete. I’ll find a way back from there.”

“How the hell did you make it so long in your … business? Patience. All good things come to those who wait.” Diaz stopped shy of entering the woman’s room.

“I live in New York City. Business comes to me,” growled Horn as she began packing.

“I’m sorry I yelled, Emily. Please, it won’t be much longer.”

“That’s what you said yesterday and the day before that!”

Standing in his Bermuda shorts, white shirt, only half-buttoned boat shoes, and trilby hat, Diaz was at a crossroads. He could kill Horn and dump her body or soothe her. The question was, how badly did he need to know about Ales Morello’s plans? “If everything turns out how I hope, I may still make Alex my successor. He may turn it down after I kidnap his wife, and he’d be justified.” Uncertainty was not a place Diaz liked to occupy. The old man began to pace up and down the narrow hall. “Morello will need someone like you on his payroll.”

“Eh, I don’t know. I like living in SoHo. I don’t want to travel the world unless it’s for fun.”

“I’ll give you double what we agreed, and once we’re done, this yacht is yours.”

“Tripple, and you give me the brunette.” Emily stood in the doorway, her face set and firm.

“Why the brunette?”

“You know who she is, right?” A wicked smile graced the woman’s lips.

“Yes. Someone who will be missed.”

“And someone with enemies. Rich enemies.” Emily poked Esteban’s chest, driving home her point. “I can sell a leg, a hand, and maybe an ear to someone else. And I can play with her while waiting for the money to roll in.”

“Done,” said Diaz flatly.

“Great,” smiled Horn. “I’ll stay on this boat until hell freezes over.”

His hands were in his pockets, and Esteban nodded slowly. “Promise me one thing.”

“What’s that, Old Man?”

“When you’re done with your fun, find a good psychiatrist.”

104

Two weeks before the Morello wedding.

“But, you’re not a monster,” she insisted as he drove her out into the Italian countryside. He simply glared at the road ahead for a time, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. He shifted the gears of the small two-seater sports car with a set jaw, pushing the car faster as those dark eyes of his grew yet darker with consternation. Eva knew that look in his eyes, and only wished to brush the harsh lines from his brow, and kiss him until he remembered how to smile again.

“Eva, you don’t know. How could you?” He finally responded as he turned off onto a small dirt road, one that a casual passerby might miss unless they looked for it. A light rain had started to fall on the dim October day, water slowly dripping from brown, fading leaves, a reminder that the golden beauty of autumn had come and gone, and soon the bitter cold of winter would soon settle upon them. Frowning, Eva wished they had chosen to marry in the spring; a far prettier time of year. She had always imagined standing in a bright white arch outside under the sun surrounded by fresh and fragrant roses in full view of the deep blue Mediterranean. Unfortunately, work and other challenges had made such a dream an impossibility. Sacrifices had been made.

Eva did not care about any of that; at least, not really. As she looked up at her man. The one she loved above all other things, her eyes sparkled, and a slow smile parting her lips. She would happily give her vows in a landfill, surrounded by rotting garbage, and still it would be the best, and happiest day of her life. Alex Morello, despite his insistence he was a monster, was a good man. His heart was so tender; his love so true and passionate. The wedding would be nothing more than a public affirmation of promises she already made in her heart long ago–for better or worse; sickness, and health. Man, or monster. For Eva Rose Peters, he was the future. Everything she could ever hope to want.

When he stopped, the rusted metal door sat alone in a small clearing, leading into some mound. Italy, though a beautiful country was littered with old, and forgotten bunkers; places for people to run and hide should the fears of the early to mid-20th century ever come to pass. This one was quite small; likely some fearful family’s weekend project. Either way, it had been long forgotten, like so many things of the past; and now, the lands here belonged to Morello–or perhaps a family member, or an associate.

“Come with me.” He made it a command, and Eva could not hide her blush as even now places low her body responded.

Making his will her own, she did as he bid, and followed him without further comment into the bunker.

His hand felt warm as it encompassed hers. Goosebumps had spread along her arms, and she shivered. That hand was the only warm thing about this narrow dark tunnel with walls of peeling stucco, and a low arched ceiling, where not even a skylight could give an occupant a sense of location, or even time. Cement pavers, many of them cracked or missing altogether, sat in three long rows along the path that sloped gently downward and into pure darkness. Eva, wearing three-inch heeled boots, made sure to step carefully.
Alex’s mobile provided the only lightsource. Tears pricked at the young, impressionable woman’s roaming brown eyes. Eva knew she was only a guest here; brought to merely look. And to learn. She understood why he brought her here. She did. He desired her to know his own dark truth, or so he had explained. He wanted–no, needed–to know whether she possessed enough strength to love the monster that was the man.

Did she have that courage?

God, please grant me courage. I love him.

Though Eva knew her marriage to Alex meant she also chose life as a Catholic, she never truly embraced faith in God, or any other deity. Even as prayer gave her comfort–perhaps a mere habit from her own Protestant upbringing, she never quite knew. Could prayers be answered? Was there some divine plan? How did one determine which prayers were worthy? Was she worthy?

The young woman sought comfort from the only sure bet she had. Alex. Carefully, she moved closer to him, holding on to him with both hands, and gently he squeezed her one hand, acknowledging her. He did not speak, but she heard him anyway. It is okay. You are safe.

She smiled up at him. I know. I love you.

Several minutes passed when they finally reached the other end of the seemingly endless tunnel. Perhaps it just felt longer than it was, as gloomy and dark as it was. At the other then, sat another old, rusted metal door. Carefully, Alex slipped a small keyring from his long black double breasted overcoat. He had dressed in all black today–a color he wore often when working–but today, even his collared shirt seemed to shy away from light or color. When the door opened, Alex reached into the dark, his fingers flipping on the single switch in the space, and overhead, a single bulb flickered to life, the light dimly reflecting stucco walls in the same condition of the corridor.

Eva smelled it before she fully registered the sights: a sickly sanguine rot, mixed with bile, and waste. Making a face, she had to cover her face with her forearm, pressing her nose into the soft woolen cloth of her long cream-colored coat. Slowly, she stepped around her fiance, looking around. He gave her space, as looking was her sole purpose for being here.

A metal chair sat in the middle of the room, each arm of the chair sporting a gleaming set of stainless steel handcuffs. The chair itself was old, and metal, with bits of gray paint chipped away showing a dull, faded metal beneath. This room had a finished floor… of sorts. The poured concrete was cracked in places, and the smooth surface finish mostly worn away. Though, and in the center, beneath that miserable chair, Eva saw a small drain, where trails of dark, dried out fluids ran inward. Somewhere in the room, Eva could hear water dripping. As she looked, she saw a small porcelain sink, and in the basin sat tools, most of them rusted, or faded. Blades, hand drills, a carpenter’s hammer, metal skewers, and even a simple set of pliers had all been used some time recently. Tears pricked at her eyes as she took a step towards that chair, unable to think about, let alone look at that sink any longer.

With her hand, she started reaching for the handcuffs–an object that she recently learned could be rather exciting in the right place and time. But now, the restraint merely made her heart hurt, and stomach turn. Alex stopped her before her fingers could feel the cool steel.

“Please, Eva. Do not touch.” Morello’s voice was calm. Guarded.

Eva had seen enough. Shivering she turned and wrapped her arms around Alex, burying her face into his chest, and breathing shallow through her mouth. Gently, as if terrified himself, he brought his arms up to embrace her. She pulled herself in closer, holding him close as much as he sought to comfort her.

“D-do you…” Eva swallowed, her voice breaking. “Do you enjoy it?”

Alex sighed, and she felt his lips and nose at the top of her head, his embrace tightening around her. Eva could tell he had stopped breathing, and it was only when she sobbed that she realized she had held her breath too. Finally, after a fleeting eternity, he spoke. “The first time I tortured a man, I was angry. I grieved. He had been the man responsible for murdering my father and brothers. But, after that man died, I did not sleep for days. When finally my body demanded rest, I woke in cold sweats, shaking. This went on for weeks. The nightmares were debilitating. I started drinking heavily to force them out. I hated myself, but I told myself this was necessary to protect my family. That if it was not me, then some rival, or competitor would merely do it themselves later. Let me be the Devil, and no others would dare…”

Eva sobbed into his lapel. A hand stroked her long autumn-red hair. He started speaking again. “No, Eva. In my heart of hearts, I hate this. I do no more than is required to maintain the power I need to protect the things I love. You. My mother. The Morello legacy. I hate the monster I am become, but nor can I slay it either.

“I… I brought you here today, because I will have no secrets between us. I am a very rich, and very powerful man. I sell dangerous things to dangerous people across the globe. I do what I must. It is not the life I wished for, but nor can I deny it. Sometimes I must give myself nightmares, and sometimes you will be in danger. Sometimes our lives will be hard. Sometimes our choices will be impossible.” His voice broke. “Do you still want this? To-” He cleared his throat. “To be with me?”

Eva did not hesitate. Her damp eyes shot up, and her hand found his cheek. Alex shuttered as she touched him, his head leaning into her touch. She had to rise up to the tips of her toes–even in heels–and she met his lips. His hands roamed down, until he was able to lift her up, and their kiss grew deeper for a brief time. When their lips separated, Eva pressed her forehead against his. “You are a man,
Alexander Morello. You are not a monster, and if I have to I will spend every day for the rest of my life proving that to you.”

~~~

Eva’s body trembled. Her skin glistened in a fine sheen, and her breasts and stomach neat and even rows of swollen red welts. The skin, as if still assessing its own damage, would soon change colors with fine bruises breaking out where he had hit her harder. Cane, and similar implements were among the most challenging for any dominant. The smallest variation in the flick of a wrist, or motion of the arm could be the difference between a welt, and broken skin. Exquisite torment, and true torture. His eyes shined darkly as he looked down at his wife as her unfocused eyes and subtle cries meant she was fully immersed. He knew Eva, she may only be distantly aware of her surroundings now–her mind? In whatever catharsis she so desperately sought. Alex only wished he understood why she needed this–on some level she always wanted it when she felt guilty about something, and yet, he would never believe that absolution would require this. Truly, he would never fully know what this level of pain and suffering granted her, and Katherine? He could see the blue fire in her eyes. She was furious. As if with every strike, he hurt her equally.

Hiding his own small battle against showing the pain he felt at hurting his wife, he smirked as Eva found her orgasm. “Katherine, keep going.” He encouraged, watching buck on the bench. Her cries sounded more as gurgled grunts through the gag, but even so, her pleasure was unmistakable, and thanks to Katherine, she came again almost as quickly as the first ended. And, then again after that.

Wiping his own brow, Alex tossed the hated implement upon the bed, grateful to be done with it. As he knelt at his wife’s side, he looked into her only half-open brown eyes, making sure she would not pass out or lose consciousness, and carefully he unbuckled the wine-colored ball gag, and was gentle as he was required to tug it from her mouth. Eva sighed, and slowly worked her mouth closed again, licking and smacking her lips. She moaned contentedly even as slow tears trickled down her temples.

Alex placed a loving hand upon her brow, pushing back damp tendrils of her hair. He found himself equally aware of Katherine who rested her cheek at the side of Eva’s thigh, likely unable to fully upright herself. “Eva,” Alex said softly, “do you know where you are?”

Eva nodded, her tone sounding as tired as she looked. “Home. Cyprus. Surrounded by my lovers.”

“How do you feel?”

“Powerful. Strong. Loved.” Eva sobbed. “And sorry. So very sorry.”

“For what, mio caro?”

“For what I did.” Her eyes gazed downward, locking with Katherine’s. Alex just looked down at his wife, his brow furrowing. He did not understand. Sighing, he decided not to inquire further until both women were untied, and resting comfortably in his arms–and this time he would not let Katherine walk away from proper aftercare. She did not realize that dominants often needed it as much as submissives–sometimes even more. He leaned forward, planting a brief, loving kiss upon his wife’s lips. “Let us get you cleaned up, and then…”

“Husband, please,” Eva begged, speaking to Alex as her dominant. “May I pleasure her? Please let me, sir.”

Alex looked from Eva, to Kat, and back to Eva. “I first need to take care of you.” A small, cruel smirk twisted at his lips. “Besides, some her words since we started have been quite biting. Perhaps I wish her to remain flustered a bit longer.”

“Please, husband.” Eva begged. “I want to continue.”

Sighing, Alex knew that even as dominant, he would never fully deny his wife. Not like this. Standing, he stalked the other woman, half-kneeling, half leaning between his wife’s legs. Her bound ankles hung in the air as she balanced on her knees with her breasts resting lightly upon the bench. Without a word, he pulled her upright, and started to remove the ropes–all but the bindings at her arms. He had thought to tease, and taunt her; perhaps scold her for her earlier biting remarks.

He chose to remain silent, and simply he helped the reporter to her feet and bid her to kneel upon the bed. Alex was much faster at removing Eva’s restraints, as fewer ropes were involved. He was very careful, helping Eva to sit up, and more than once she winced, the welts upon her breasts and torso turning even darker and angrier. Once Eva was resting upon her back next to Katherine, Alex looked at Katherine. “Position yourself over her head. But, mio caro giornalista, you will continue to hold your orgasm until I grant you permission.”

His eye lingered on the reporter, even as he slid his wife towards the end of the bed. Eva grunted slightly from the discomfort, but she could not help but smile as he reattached her cuffs-each wrist to the matching ankle. Alex spread his wife’s legs and he waited, somewhat amused as Katherine was left to inch and struggle on her knees in order to position herself to receive Eva’s pleasure. He knew that each movement she made would be a cruel taunt; a release she could never have without the aid of his wife.

When Katherine showed herself ready, and Eva was already reaching upward with her lips and tongue did he slip his own tormented and quite unsatiated erection into his wife, pleasuring her, as she too was given her heart’s desire in this moment. But, even as he made love to his wife, he did not take his dark, uncompromising gaze from the reporter. A lioness, and a wolf ever locked in a battle of wills.

105

“For what I did.”

Katherine was tired. Her body ached. She tried to speak, but the soreness in her tongue and mouth prevented any communication above a whisper. “Why?” she asked. The room was darker than before. Was the sun going down, or was she hallucinating? Groaning, she rubbed her eyes, feeling moisture from sweat and tears on her cheek. Moving, Kat saw Eva on her back with her attentive husband. The woman was more coherent than she appeared, which Katherine was thankful for. The journalist wanted to wrap her arms around her redheaded lover, but Alex had not finished with her. Whelps from the caning stood out as a pinkish red upon pale, white skin. “Why?” Kat asked herself. What had Eva done? According to his expression, Alex was as much in the dark as Kat was, but answers would have to wait. She bruised his ego during playtime. It never ceased to amaze Kat how powerful men were so easily triggered. What did she even say that was so bad?

“You said you wouldn’t do that.”

A reminder of what Alex was or what he felt he had to do? Whatever his reasoning, Morello wished Kat to suffer a little more, and a new battle of wills began. As instructed, she moved to the bed and climbed on. Every motion provided new and familiar sensations through the Ben Wa balls. The spheres moved inside her, rubbing her walls and G-spot enough to solicit a moaning grunt. On the bed, swaying side to side to keep her balance, Kat closed her eyes, concentrating on anything other than pleasure – bodies torn to bits by bullets near Kabul, a fight with her editor, a battle with her father, or dead kittens. Kneeling on the bed, Cassat waited until Eva positioned herself between her thighs. She felt the warmth of Eva’s skin nestle between her legs while the woman’s damp hands wrapped around her thighs. Katherine waited, fixated on Alex as they exchanged a long, silent glare.

The staring match broke when Eva’s warm, wet, and talented tongue lapped at Katherine’s sex. With Morello fucking his wife, the bed shook, adding motion to the pleasure inside Katherine’s needy pussy. Again, the Ben Wa balls tormented her, rolling and sliding against her slippery walls. She arched her back, groaning mournfully like a long, open G-string on a violin. With her arms tied behind her back and chest thrust outward, Cassatt’s fingers clawed at the open air, trying in vain to clutch on anything to counter the unending pleasure.

Alex had demanded that Katherine hold in her orgasm until he allowed it, but the longer she held off, the deeper she fell toward madness. Her face contorted grotesquely as her body twisted with each last of Eva’s tongue. Tingles and tickles tore into her sex, forcing her juices to slide down her thighs. And this was what she wanted? What did she desire? How many nights had she fantasized about a similar scenario, yet there she was, in dire need of release? Eva’s tongue and lips were constant. They neither sped up nor slowed down but delivered an ultimate kiss, an expression of her love that made the ordeal more unbearable.

“Gahhh!” Katherine screamed, then seethed as he held back. Her safe word could end the torment, but that look on Alex’s face spurned her on. She needed to beat him or at least endure his ego.

Morello called himself a monster as if it were another persona he locked away – a Mr. Hyde to his Jekyll. Katherine understood the idea all too well and considered it bullshit. If the arms dealer thought she had stung him hard with her words before, he was in for a big surprise.

The orgasm rose within her unexpectedly. Her body shuddered and shook, then tensed. “N-no, no, no,” she begged. Unintelligible whimpers followed as Katherine gritted her teeth as she would with a full bladder. Her vagina convulsed, possessed by a ravaged need that the journalist could no longer contain. Katherine shot a glance at the can lying on the bed. Would he even dare? Her eyes shut tight; Eva did not show any hint of mercy, and neither did her husband. “Let me cum!” she thought, but her pride wouldn’t let her utter the plea.

Kat’s head shot back. Her fingers were cramped. Her legs shook. Katherine screamed like she was on fire as the orgasm rattled her body. The woman tumbled over to her side, cumming and shaking as Eva followed her, still lapping at her lover’s sex.

She lay on the bed, cumming a second and third time as Eva would not stop. Kat’s body reacted accordingly. She knew where she was, but shame and fear replaced her pride. Kat looked at the cane again, then shied away from away from both her lovers. All she wanted to do was run, but with her hands bound behind her back, she was helpless. Somehow, the fantasy had become a nightmare, but her ordeal was not over. Alex had relented to his wife’s wishes, but he would care for the journalist and his wife, likely forcing Cassatt to dwell on what punishment she would receive.

“Redrum, redrum,” Kat spoke her safe word, ending her play. “Please – please untie me. My fingers are crapping.” Her voice was weak and cracked. “And something to drink, please.” Kat didn’t speak after that, but she did turn her attention to Eva and smiled, kissing the woman on the cheek.

Resting her eyes, Cassatt felt the tug of ropes as Alex mercifully unraveled the ropes and rounded her arms, shoulders, and chest. Sitting up, using her hands to support herself on the bed, Kat cracked her neck and combed her fingers through her damp, matted hair. Carefully, gently, she took Eva’s hand and pressed the woman’s knuckles to her lips. Closing her eyes, Eva’s hand still on her lips, Katherine thought of every scenario that could happen once Morello’s story was out. The sacrifice would be worth it.

Eva’s mystery lingered amongst the trio, but curious as she was, the answer was meant for Alex.

106

“Dannazione!” Alex spat out a desperate, flustered string of ugly curses in his native tongue as Eva rolled on the bed away from him, more interested in her love making with Katherine than his own need for release. His penis, slick, and swollen, convulsed in the sudden cold, and lonely air wavering a bit, but no less traumatized by the loss of comfort and union. A mere span of seconds more, and he might have released his seed into his wife, thus granting Katherine the bliss of an orgasm of such power and beauty. Eva might have come again too, her own pleasures growing despite her own exhaustion and discomfort–and oh did he know his wife, how she certainly loved being in the center giving as fervently as she received. How she craved to be surrounded by those she loved and desired: the center of the tempest. And, how close they came to a true trinity of orgasmic bliss.

Today, none of that was meant to be. And, even as he clenched his fists, fighting his initial instinct to finish himself off, he quickly slid onto the bed at Katherine’s side, to remove her bindings. Her hands still had good color, and though her skin held deep red imprints from where the ropes held her, he did not see any obvious signs of pinching, or strain.

When the reporter sat upright, her eyes lingering upon his wife, holding her hand. Alex stood up and sighed. His erection had lost all interest in the games of the day, and he could only regard the two women on the bed with eyes furrowed with worry. Both women were spent. Exhausted. Gently, he reached out, letting his hand join with the women. He took care to not interfere with Katherine’s lips, and yet he wanted her to know his presence; he wanted those eyes to look his way and just for once to see contentment and satisfaction in that stark, intelligent gaze. Even now he somehow doubted he would get that. The woman would never grant him grace. And why should she? Even after all these days, he remained her captor regardless of how .

With his hand touching the skin of both women, his dark, tired eyes found Katherine. “I will return in a few moments. With humility, I ask that you stay in our bed.” His eyes bore deep into hers, even as she seemed to only have eyes for Eva and he repeated himself. “Please.”

It did not take him long to collect the most important items needed for the moment: several bottles of water, an extra large ice pack from the freezer, and genuine aloe vera gel. He knew also that much like any activity that burned calories, a human needed nourishment. Katherine did not seem to want to eat much after such intense play, and he knew Eva may not feel ready to eat either given that her breasts and stomach would soon start to burn and ache as her endorphins faded. He brought with him only a jar of peanut butter, and thin whole-wheat crackers. He decided a small snack would be easier to put away should the women decide only to rest.

Back in the room, Alex set the tray of items on the beside bench, and handed the water to Katherine. “When you have had your fill, I would appreciate it if you were to like down on your belly. I will tend to you.”

Both women arranged themselves on the bed: Eva on her back, her head resting comfortably on her pillow, and next to Katherine, who thankfully did as he requested. Whether she was happy about it, or not, he did not know. Neither did he ask. First, he gently placed the soft ice pack across his wife’s breasts and torso. He used small bits of cotton over her nipples so they would not get too cold.

“How does that feel, mio caro?” His fingers caressed through her messy red curls.

Eva nodded, her voice quiet, and dry. “It’s fine. Please take care of Kat. I’m fine.”

Quickly, Morello called out to his Alexa device, asking it to set a timer for the ice. The small disc shaped technology was, perhaps, the only modern tech the house had outside his private office.

Sighing, and nodding, he took the bottle of aloe, and poured a large amount onto his hands. “Katherine, this will feel cool, but it will soothe. This is pure aloe. No additives.” He rubbed his hands together for only a second before he gently applied the cooling gel over her buttocks. Slowly he worked his hands over her buttocks, neither rubbing hard, nor deeply, and then he slowly worked along her lower back, gently–oh ever so gently–massaging along muscles he knew might soon begin to ache. Alex did not wish to cause more soreness, however, but rather allow her body time to relax and release tension; a fine line indeed.

He applied more aloe to her arms, back and chest primarily where the ropes held her tight. And, often he would brush Eva’s hair, and found himself longing to do the same for his dear reporter, and yet with her hair teased and styled as it was, he feared it would be more pain and discomfort than she would appreciate. Perhaps if the woman desired a bath later, he would treat her hair. If nothing else, he promised himself he would offer.

“There is no greater joy than to be surrounded by two powerful, and beautiful women. Katherine, would you permit me to rest with you and my dear Eva?” He waited patiently, and soon he smiled slightly as the woman begrudgingly shifted away from Eva allowing him space to join them on the bed. Gently he situated himself, and where one hand reached out to find his wife’s arm as she situated herself in her favorite position: her head against his chest, and body stretched out perpendicular. For Katherine, he simply pulled her in close with his other arm, inviting her to stretch her body against his length. Whether she wished for it or not, he could not tell and yet she went with it. And, when he brought his wife’s hand up to his lips for a loving kiss, so did he plant an equally tender kiss atop the lovely reporter’s head. As his lips lingered there, he could not help but chuckle.

“Ah, mio caro giornalista,” his voice, gruff and deep from exhaustion more than anything else, “please never lose that fire in your eyes. It is your best feature. My wife is a beautiful woman, especially when in submission, but you… I very much love your defiance. Your biting words. It is utterly sexy.”

Though she did not speak, Eva reached up with a hand, searching over her head until she found Katherine’s hand. Alex watched through hooded eyes as Eva squeezed the woman’s hand. And soon his eyes closed, dozing and drifting only until the small alarm sounded, and he carefully slid the ice pack from Eva’s red, and angry flesh. Only then did he pull Katherine closer against him as slumber took over.

107

Kat let go of Eva’s hand as she crashed onto the bed. Like falling from a runner’s high, Kat was exhausted. She lay on the bed trying to think; her body ached from the bonds and Eva’s use. Kat sought a comfortable resting position. There wasn’t one. Closing her eyes, she overheard Morello say, “Please.” Kat didn’t answer but thought the request to be strange. She could barely move, let alone leave the room.

Alex returned with a snack. Had he left? Yes. Yes, he had. Please.

Sitting up again, Cassatt enjoyed the peanut butter crackers. She loved whole wheat crackers with any spread. The treat was a pleasant surprise. The woman remained silent while Alex attended to her and his wife. The aloe massage wasn’t unpleasant and did soothe Katherine’s soreness, but her mind was different. The noise of the cane that struck Eva’s breasts went on in her mind like an old grandfather clock.

Thap, thap, thap.

No matter her thoughts, the constant sound of the rattan rod striking fatty flesh revibrated through her brain like a bad earworm.

Thap, thap, thap.

The bed shifted as Alex climbed in. She moved close to him, nestling in his arms. Strangely, she felt safe, even though she wanted to run as far away as possible. Alex praised her defiance in a rough yet sultry tone. Taking pity on the man, she smiled for a moment but rolled over. After another sip of water, Kat grew sleepy. She struggled to stay awake, fearful of what her dreams might bring, but sleep won out soon enough.

Katherine marched up the steps of Mr. Isaac Moore’s craftsman bungalow. She knocked on the door. Rubbing her hands together, Kat cursed herself for not wearing gloves on that cold September morning. Looking around the New Jersey landscape, she saw that the trees had turned early, and some leaves began to fall. Anxious, Kat knocked on the door again.

“Coming!” a muffled yell came from the living room, inches from the front door. “Oh, it’s you,” Moore said, opening the door only a crack.

“Mr. Moore, please, may I come in?” Katherine stood in the cold, trembling, blowing into her hands. “It’s a little chilly.”

“Fine. What else can you do to me?” Moore left the door but didn’t open it any further. “What do you want?”

Kat walked into the living room. Boxes marked treasures, Mother’s dishes, or junk sat in the center of the room. Moore, a petite man in his 70s, balding with age spots on his arms and face, shuffled toward the fireplace. Shaky hands picked up a golden pig statue and placed it in a box with tissues.

“So, you are moving?”

“No. I’m wrapping shit up so when I die, the children I don’t have can go through it all.” The older man turned; his brow twisted underneath his thick brown glasses. “What do you think?”

“I’m … I’m sorry.” Katherine didn’t know what to say beyond those pitiful words.

“Sorry. I guess that makes it all better, huh? You got your award, and I got bupkis. Worse than bupkis.” Moore wrapped the pig in tissue and sat it in the box again. “I won that 30 years ago for a prize pig. I called him Wilbur. Not very original.”

“My mother almost called me Charlotte.” Katherine shrugged, smiling awkwardly.

“Named after a blood-sucking spider. It would have suited you.”

Cassatt’s face turned hard. “I am incredibly sorry for your plight, but that is no reason for names.” She stepped toward the man, already regretful of her outburst. “You are … you’re moving?” asked Kat, looking over the boxes.

“Ace star reporter Cassatt. Nothing gets by you.” Moore shook his head, mumbling under his breath. Turning away from the journalist, Moore picked up a portrait from the mantle. The frame was golden wood, laced with roses. “Marie, when she was younger. This was her dad’s house. I’m glad they’re not here to see me lose it.”

“What happened? I thought we arranged a better mortgage. That was the deal. Right?” Kat was bewildered. Moore was her star witness in the Esso toxic waste scandal. “You were to keep your job, and the bank would help you keep your house.”

“And you kept your word with the bank. For that, I thank you, but …” The man sighed, taking a seat in a brown wingback. Moore removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I got a call yesterday that Esso will be closing the plant and relocating to Vietnam.” Returning his glasses, Isaac stared at Cassatt. “You slayed the dragon, but the village still got burned.”

Katherine had to sit down. “But, no, that’s impossible. I would have heard of a plant closing.”

“Like I said, they called me. It was –” Moore seemed almost to laugh. “It was out of courtesy, they said. And they were calling everyone in the plant. 1097 people.” Moore haphazardly flailed his hands in the air. “All those people. Some will lose homes like me. Others will lose more than that.” The older man shuffled over to Kat, motioning to the door. “Congratulations on your Pulitzer. Now, get the hell out of my house.”

Rising, Katerine turned for the door when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around. Standing before her were two headless marines. Each man sported a dusty and bloody uniform and held their head under their right arm. “I took a rifle butt in the head for you, and you left us to die.” The journalist fell back, toppling a nightstand heaped with crystal heads. The heads, most of which belonged to former employees of Esso, fell and shattered on the floor. Kat screamed as blood rose. She ran out of the house. The New Jersey autumn had disappeared, leaving a ravaged Afghanistan.

“And they called me a terrorist,” said Kamal. A handsome Afghan man waved at Kat, adding a smile. Half his torso was gone. “If you don’t remember, I helped you escape my brother. The one who wanted to fuck you and behead you. And you’re welcome.”

“You’re – you’re dead,” stuttered Kat.

“That I am. I was killed two months after I let you go. I was heading to the observatory.” Kamal smiled and tapped his head. “Remember that night we shared? Looking at the Milky Way?” He started to laugh, circling the woman, eyeing her like prey. “Now you’re fucking the man who killed me!”

“He didn’t –”

“Ohhhhh.” Kamal’s eyes widened as he danced and giggled. “You’re defending him now. Boy, he must have a hell of a big cock.”

Closing her eyes, Kat screamed as she ran off. The Afghan laughed at her cowardness. The ground beneath the feet felt rocky, precisely like the long truck drive to the house where she and the marines were held captive. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed her by the throat and tossed her to the floor. Opening her eyes, she looked up. Alex the Black stood above her with a whip.

“You will have my child,” he growled, then undid his pants, letting loose his eighteen-inch cock. And I will impregnate you right –”

“Wait! Wait!” Kat yelled. “Your penis. It’s huge. It’s more than huge. It’s physically impossible. Isn’t it?”

The cock grew and grew until it was the size of a Subaru.

“Hold it! Hold it!” Kat waved her arms. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, motioning to the titanic member. “Where did that even come from? I’ve never fantasized about –” She looked at the grotesque penis again, making a sour face. Closing her eyes again, she felt a wind in her hair. Opening them, she found herself at a crossroads. THE crossroads in Clarksdale, Mississippi.

“A bit on the nose, but there’s no need to sell your soul to the devil just yet.”

Katherine knew the voice. Quickly, she spun around to find her father walking toward her. “Daddy,” she whispered and ran into his arms. He smiled and held her. “I’ve lost my way. I can’t go back, and I can’t go forward.”

“You’re right, Katherine, but you don’t have to move in a straight line. Nothing ever does.”

Sunlight washed in the bedroom, hitting Kat in the eyes. The journalist groaned as she stirred. Alex and Eva were still asleep. Kat quietly and carefully moved off the bed, leaving the couple to shower. Later, picking up a phone, she sat to type a message to her father. The reporter stared at the blank screen for a long time, unsure of what to say. Finally, she kept it simple.

Dad, hope all is well.

I’m okay.

Just wanted to say I love you.

Take care.

Hope to see you soon.

Placing the phone back on the desk, Katherine ran her hands through her wet hair. Despite their problems, she hated lying to her father. She knew they would likely never see one another again.

108

A human could only take so much spa comfort. Eva’s fingers were well and truly wrinkled when she finally dredged herself out of the luxurious, if somewhat cool, bath. Gently she toweled the beads of water from her too pale flesh. Deep down she wanted to rub the terrycloth feverishly along the slowly fading welts; it would make them scream again… and the pain would feel heavenly. But she refrained. He would know, and then he would worry. He would make her sit and talk and explain. He would make her Zoom with Dr. Graham. She didn’t like those choices, and therefore chose not to cause herself more pain–on many levels.

Absently, she dropped the towel on the floor and padded into her bedroom. In the two days since that session, Eva had not left her room much. Alex brought food to her, and Kat was nowhere to be seen. At times she heard voices from the other room, but the conversations were short. Simple. Not unlike neighbors discussing the latest weather forecast. None of her efforts from the previous days had mattered. Whatever bond Alex and Kat might have, it had reached its pinnacle. Eva felt sure of that, and with that realization, she began to understand that all her choices–their efforts–meant that she too had become a monster. She destroyed Katherine Cassatt; used the beautiful, and brilliantly headstrong reporter for her own selfish needs. And soon, they would send the woman home to face consequences that were not meant to be hers.

SLAP! “Now, I forgive you.”

Eyes. Cold and icy. Summer turned to winter inside a fuming breath. A promise of wrath, and swift justice. Love freely given, but with no greater strength than a house with no foundation. The end would come. Wishes and desires finally granted, but at the price of one’s soul.

Eva rushed back to the bathroom. Several minutes later after thoroughly brushing her teeth, she managed to make it as far as her bed, though her flesh had turned a little paler. Gingerly she crawled over to her favorite side, and lounged against already propped pillows. Sighing, she refused to let herself cry anymore; it would only make her eyes red and achy. Worst of all? It solved nothing.

So, once again, she took her phone from the bedside table. For a time she caught up on her favorite Instagram people. And then, after a time she moved on to TikTok. Alex would not like her on social media, not with so many uncertainties to their plan, but at the moment she could not make herself care. Eva needed to get out of her own head; she needed to scroll at stupid nonsense; she needed to get out of this horrible space in her mind. Why not catch up on trends, and fashion? She knew better than to check her email, or the stocks. It would only depress her more. Many of her charities were left in good, capable hands. If she looked, she would want to go back and help. But, no. She would never be back. She would never again travel to Africa to visit the schools where she helped supply books, soccer balls, and even uniforms for those who could not afford it. Nor would she travel to the small villages in Asia, to watch the young children sing and dance in the town squares where elders would look on with proud eyes and nostalgic grins.

She would miss all of it, and only too late she learned her evil choices could never be justified. It all boiled down to what she wanted, and in the end she chose to aid her husband’s methods. The plan felt so simple in the beginning, and their goals perfectly aligned so that he might escape the evil world he wanted no part of, and she would earn her heart’s greatest desire: a child. All this work just to replace the void their first child lost.

And even now, wallowing in her own self-pity, Eva knew they had long past the time to make anything right. The young woman hated herself for not seeing the follies of the plan more clearly. And even more, she hated her guilt. And her weakness. Most of all? Her naivety.

Without even realizing it, Eva had switched over to one of her many shopping apps. And, in her face was the gift she had hoped to give Kat. At first she had stumbled across the small piece of jewelry one morning and thought it would look nice around the reporter’s neck. But, of course, the object was so much more: a day collar. A simple chain that a true and loving dominant might give their submissives–a small little secret to put on display to show the world that they belonged to and were loved. Of course, the mainstream world would not recognize the accessory for what it was; that was the beauty of it; just a cute little necklace.

Just one click, and a simple change of address, and the object would arrive in no more than three-to-five business days–even to the small rather unknown island of Cyprus. Certain that Kat might just as toss it away with the morning tide, she ordered it anyway. Maybe, if she was lucky, the thing wouldn’t even arrive before they all would have to leave.

Sighing, Eva knew she needed to get out of this room. Out of the house. It would have been Dr. Graham’s first suggestion. The psychiatrist, a soft spoken woman not much older than she, would ask her how she was feeling, if she did her meditation exercises, and if she had been practicing self care. And, today, the answer would be no on all counts.

She took her time dressing, choosing simple, and comfortable fabric in a light cotton button-down shirt and faded denim shorts with a frayed hem. Instead of a bra she chose a soft baby pink string bikini leaving most of it (and her wounds) hidden from public view. Finalizing her everyday look, she added a simple pair of natural canvas shoes and a wide brimmed sun hat where she let her curls fan and peek out around her face and shoulders. Quickly she texted Iason with her intentions, and left a note on the bedside table before slipping out through the patio doors and around the long way to the front of the house, careful to avoid anyone who was not an extremely well paid bodyguard.

Yes. A day out in the warm sun, and fresh breeze would be exactly what she needed to find perspective. Right?

Maybe.

“Now, I forgive you.” God has mercy; those eyes. Those cold, blue, and utterly beautiful blue eyes of the woman she loved, and the ferocity they held.

Please, Katherine. Do not ever forgive me.

109

Katherine despised how the news media milked a story until the marrow itself was dry, but that was the nature of the business. Every news outlet feared a scoop from a competitor, and every reporter lived for such a story. Unfortunately, the news was a 24-hour, billion-dollar business. Each outlet covered the same story to avoid falling behind the competition. Every news organization did it, and every reporter hated it. The story that had fallen into Cassatt’s lap would find its way into every paper, every cable network, and every social media outlet within an hour of release.

Senator Peters was the target and Eva’s uncle, but Katherine could brush aside her emotions for the proper story. Though designed as a distraction, Peters’ involvement in organized crime needed coverage. However, she could see his supporters lining up for the man’s defense. Even if they were convinced of Peters’ guilt, their mantra would scream – he just got caught.

Nevertheless, the story would break headlines and usher a path for more tales from Morello’s database. However, as much as Kat had a duty to the truth, she cared for her friends. Her editor needed to understand the implications of Kat’s findings. She sent out a warning.

Jacob,

Apologies for the radio silence.

I’m currently in deep cover for

a story and cannot divulge my

Location. I have evidence of

the misdeeds of a well-known

public official. I will contact

you later. Please understand

that this story will lead you

down a dangerous path.

You may wish to consider

Sarah and Judy, if you pursue

this piece. I’m giving you the

first dibs, but I will understand if

you wish to pass.

Love, Kat

For days, Katherine stuck to the same routine: Rise, shower, a light breakfast, research Morello’s database, lunch by the pool, work on the Peters story, dinner alone, more research, an hour or so to relax and recharge, bed. She often ran into Alex in the kitchen or asked him a question about a competitor. Their conversations were cordial but short. Yet, each time they spoke, Katherine was keenly aware that he intended to punish her for cumming without permission. The journalist was tempted several times to call the whole thing off, but her stubborn curiosity would not allow her. She needed to understand what Eva felt that afternoon. With that burning desire for Eva’s truth in mind, Kat chose her method of discipline. If Alex hated the cane as much as he professed, Cassatt also saw it as punishment for him.

Kat thought of torturing Morello further by wearing a bikini, lingerie, or nothing at all, forbidding any touch, but the journalist opted for comfort instead of revenge. Mostly, she wore light-flowing fabrics that were easy to slip on and off. The ensemble reminded Cassatt of Eva, whom Kat had not seen since that day. She occasionally spotted Alex heading to her room with food. For all his faults, the man did love his wife.

When Katherine finally spotted Eva, she headed shopping in the family car. Shopping was one of the redhead’s favorite pastimes. Cassatt could take it or leave it, though she understood the appeal. With Eva out of the house for several hours, Kat knew there would not be a better time to approach Morello concerning her punishment. With a boldness in her step, she approached the box that contained the dreaded thing. Admittedly, she was afraid of the cane for both the pain and what it represented. Undoubtedly, Morello used it for official business and reminded Katherine of what may lay in store once her stories came to light.

Removing the rattan cane from its container, Kat sought out Alex and handed the thing to him. He did not look pleased. “I’m sure,” she said. Removing her black tank top and bra, she followed Morello, promising to obey his every instruction.

Emily Horn moved around the boutique, eyeing expensive clothes as if she were in a candy shop. “This one and this one and this one …” The dark-skinned woman rifled through the blouses, desperate to try them on. “I need to return when I have money and time,” she whispered.

“Stay on the mission, Em. Do you see her yet?” asked Esteban Diaz from the safety of his yacht.

Horn tapped the device in her ear.

Diaz winced. “Could you not do that, please?” he sighed.

“Are you sure she’s coming here?” asked Horn.

“There is a 98% probability that Eza Morello will show. I’ve told you five times, have patience.”

“Sure, fine, whatever.” Em slipped a hand into her purse, touching the switchblade she brought to capture the elusive Eva Morello. She watched as two men tried to duck the staff. One of Esteban’s henchmen played along, asking about a dress for an imaginary girlfriend. The other was hopelessly lost and entertaining to watch. But all good things ended as Morello stepped into the shop. Emily perked up, seeing the redhead enter the shop.

“She’s heeere.” Emily chimed.

Diaz rolled his eyes. “Stay on target.”

“Yes, red leader. I have eyes on the prize.”

Esteban knew Morello would retaliate for the capture of his wife, no matter the outcome. The ploy was dangerous but necessary in his eyes. Alex was up to something and had to know what it was. Picking up his phone, Diaz pressed *0001, sending a signal to several players in his mission. A nondescript semi with a reddish-brown trailer began to move a block from the boutique. Precisely 15 seconds later, a cement mixer rolled into the store parking lot, stalling behind the Morello’s limo. Iason flung the door open.

“Now!” shouted Diaz. The two men positioned themselves at the front entrance. Emily went straight for the target just as the semi plowed into the cement mixer. The walls shook, and the windows shattered. With the switchblade in hand, Horn quickly placed it on Eva’s back. “Come with me if you want to live.” The two men rushed to her side, escorting Morello out the back.

“Remain calm, Mrs. Morello. We only want to ask you a few questions.” A black bag was whisked over her head as the back door burst open. The woman was led gently to a waiting vehicle, heard a car door opening, and then pushed into the back of a truck. No. She felt a mattress and soon smelled the scent of disinfectant. An ambulance? “This won’t hurt,” said the woman beside her. Eva felt her right arm sleeve rip, and then a tiny needle penetrated her skin. A fog took her mind in seconds, forcing her into a dreamless night.

Iason lay on the ground, bleeding but alive. His hand shaking, the chauffeur called Alex. He could hear the siren from an ambulance racing into the distance.

When Eva regained consciousness, she was in a small room, bound to a comfortable chair. Cushioned black leather cuffs wrapped tightly around her wrists and ankles connected to golden locks and specially made golden loops placed into the seat. The woman who had abducted her stood a few feet away next to an extravagant tea set. The room swayed with movement. Was she on a boat?

“Hi, Eva. You can call me Cersei. How would you like to have a nice cup of tea? We have chamomile, Earl Grey, Hot, and some fresh mint.” The woman poured herself a cup of chamomile, piping hot. “Now, I just have a few questions, and if you answer them correctly, you’ll win a fabulous trip back to the comfort of your home.” Cersei sipped from the rose-adorned China cup. “If you don’t answer my questions, well –” Horn moved toward Eva, allowing her fingers to climb up the woman’s exposed arm. “I will torture you.” Em laughed as she knelt by the captive woman. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave a mark on your pretty skin. Not anytime soon, anyway.”

Standing, Emily moved back to the tea set and picked up a blue index card. “First question. What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?” She snickered. “No, no, no. I’m messing with you. The real question is, what has your husband been doing? He’s been moving shipments and calling in favors, and he has that spunky brunette reporter by his side. Or is she for you?” Emily gave Morello a wink. “It doesn’t matter. Answer the question, and you can go home.” The woman grinned as she moved behind Eva, placing a hand on her bare thigh. “What is Alex up to, Eva? Tell me, or you and I will get very acquainted.”

110

Alex

Guiding Katherine toward the master bedroom, he did not expect she noticed the mist forming in his dark, coal eyes. The icy, almost vacant look in the reporter’s eyes reminded him too much of victims he would rather not revisit. And still, at her behest, he marched her to her own chosen punishment.

“Please pull the bench away from the bed. Straddle it.” His tone sounded gruff, even for him, as he went to his chest, and pulled out several leather cuffs, along with matching locks and attachments. He set the key to all locks within reach on the corner of the bed where it would be visible and out of the way. He placed the shackles on the bench before his charge, and bid her to place them herself on her wrists and ankles, knowing she had done it before. While she worked he retrieved the spreader bar from the back of the closet.

He came out and set the bar on the ground, perpendicular to the bench. “I had not intended for our previous session to resume, nor continue ever again. In truth, I expected that you would never permit me to touch you again.”

Once Katherine had secured himself, he helped her lie back onto the bench, ensuring that her body centered properly for balance, and comfort. Just as he had his wife, he secured the shackles together, her wrists trapped at the underside of the bench, and then her ankles to the spreader at a wide, but not uncomfortable width. Like before, he used rope to secure her wrists and hold them tight and in place, and as he worked to put just the right tension in the rope, he had the woman shift, or adjust her shoulders until the woman’s shoulder blades rested just right on either side of the bench. Katherien was quite a few inches taller than Eva, and he felt relieved that the bench molded to the new woman’s body just as well. When he was done, he merely knelt before her, placing a gentle hand on her forehead. “Eva finds comfort with a small pillow at the small of her back. Would you like one as well?”

The question was honest, and after he honored the woman’s wishes, he set the rattan cane lengthwise along the woman’s body, the handle resting firmly between the woman’s shapely breasts. He peered into the woman’s blue eyes, and he did not stop the tear that trickled down his cheek.

Being raised in a criminal family, he had been taught not to cry. It was unmanly, and weak. But now, as he sensed his future was well set in stone, the wash of emotion seemed the least of his failings. With a tender hand, he started working it along the woman’s flesh, fondling her breasts until those nipples were hard and tight, and then dragging those fingers along her belly until they teased at the space between her legs. He maintained distance from her clitoris, however. Instead, he massaged the inside of her thighs, stroked the outside of her labia, teasing her until he could see how aroused she was. Katherine liked the teasing, she liked to arousal, followed by denial after denial until there was nothing but rage, and crazed passion.

“I will do as you wish,” Alex said, “but I will not begin until you explain, fully, why you desire this. I understand why Eva wanted this.” He wondered if Katherine had figured it out yet. He doubted it. The woman was too filled with love for his wife, and hate for him in equal measure. He continued to tease, and torment between her legs, drawing ever closer to her clitoris, even slipping a finger or two inside her sex, keeping her on that beautiful edge.

Eva

Groggy, and disoriented, it took the woman several moments to well and truly take in her surroundings. The room, neither large nor small, was dark save for a small lamp in the distance. She could see windows to her left, but heavy shades were drawn. She could not tell if it was day or night. Not a good sign. What she could see of the rest of the space suggested a bedroom, with rather static and boring colors: white and warm neutrals. A yacht. Had to be, it would explain the sway not fading as her senses came back to her.

The chocolate-skinned woman with a bored look in her eye, had been talking, although Eva understood little of what she said. Tea? Swallows? What?

She shook her head, as if to clear the haze, and only then did she realize the leather shackles. Tugging at them, she did not necessarily seek to escape, or to resist, but rather to test them. They felt tight, rather than snug, and she did not like that. A person’s extremities needed to be able to move a bit; to breathe, but it seemed her captor did not care about that.

Sighing, she did her best to make herself relax. And she looked down at the hand on her thigh, and at “Cersei’s” final question, and promise of going home in exchange of cooperation, or torture for resistance, she realized the danger she faced. The woman would not give her much time to think before enacting her promise of “getting acquainted.”

Eva, should you ever be taken, you have two weapons always at your disposal. Your first is your calm. If you let your fear, or panic take you over, they will know it. They will use it against you. Your second will always be your honesty. I do not share the nature of my business with you, and this means you will never be forced to reveal things that would be of threat to us, or the business. On this merit alone, you will never be taken against your will, unless one intends to use you to get cooperation, or ransom from me. If that is ever the case, you need only to be brave and patient. I will always come for you.

Alex always did fear a day would come when she was at the mercy of another; to be a pawn, or worse, another tragic casualty of his business.

Turning her head, she met the woman’s gaze, those dark round eyes of the woman drawing near as her fingers traced lightly over bare skin. Eva smiled sweetly, though in her own big amber eyes she offered a subtle challenge. Yes, the bound woman was afraid. But, also excited. She couldn’t help it given her state… the threat looming… the body does not lie. At that simple thought, tears welled in her eyes.

“Forgive my silence. The sedative is still wearing off.” Eva kept her voice calm, as she answered the woman. “You asked what ‘Alex is up to.’ I would imagine that right now he is home, either on his computer, or enjoying the sunshine. Honestly, the man would live his entire life outdoors given half a chance. As for his business, he and I do not discuss the specifics of his enterprise.” A slow, impish grin parted her full lips. “I guess he had concerns that I might be kidnapped and interrogated someday.”

She gave the woman a small shrug, as she made those big eyes of hers seem as innocent as possible. “I expect the real question is why my husband is making so many odd business decisions. I suppose there is no harm in sharing such information, but I have no intention of telling you. I would tell your employer, however. I know a few of his associates–you know, from Christmas parties, and the like.” Or, rather, the real question was, who hired this strange, and slightly ridiculous woman to capture her? If she knew this person–if they had met before, perhaps she could make an appeal; but if the person was a stranger… at least she would know. “In any case, you have the only answer you will get from me. So, either start the torture, or allow me to speak to your employer directly.”

111

Entering Morello’s bedroom, Katherine wondered if condemned prisoners felt as she did then. Although the journalist never managed to witness an execution, several of her peers had. To the uneducated eye, a man or woman lay on a gurney, was strapped down, injected with a lethal dose of drugs, and faded off to sleep. Some described the practice as anticlimactic. Most condemned prisoners approached their demise casually, with relief, or with stoic serenity. A few expressed anger or hostility. On rare occasions, some would plead for mercy. Katherine was terrified but maintained a calm exterior. She showed no emotion and undressed when Morello asked.

With Eva’s ordeal fresh in her mind, every second Kat spent preparing for her punishment, the woman contemplated ending the ordeal. There was no doubt in her mind that Alex would share the same relief. But Cassatt had to know how her lover felt during her torment, a curse from her reporter’s inquisitive mind. She removed the bench under the bed and straddled it as comfortably as possible, feeling slightly like she was digging her grave.

Once positioned, Kat tested the bonds herself, moving her arms and legs just enough to understand the tightness of the rope. She was secure enough. Alex seemed to tower over her, igniting a spark within her sex as Kat allowed herself to enjoy her helplessness and his power. Playtime with Morello and his wife let a playful fear arise in her. As he placed the cane on top of her breasts, another kind of fear struck the woman. Kat shuddered as her safe word hung on the tip of her tongue.

“A – a pillow would be nice,” she replied when asked. Her stuttered tone betrayed the terror in her being, yet she would not relent. Katherine had to know.

But then, the man she hated and desired surprised Katherine. He cried. Her brow furrowed momentarily, attempting to understand the sudden wash of emotion. Indeed, the tears were not for her. Did he despise the act he was about to perform so much? Why? Did she remind him of one of his many victims? Possibly. Something was going on, and she could not figure it out, which irritated her journalistic sensibilities.

Morello’s hand reached across her breasts where the rattan cane sat. Kathrine shuddered, closed her eyes, and stole herself for the pain that never came. Instead, she felt his hands on her breasts, toying with her nipples, sliding downward to her belly, and finally, her sex. She tried to fight it, squirming, thinking his taunts were a sick game, but no, Morello was above such things, at least with her.

By now, Alex knew almost as much as Cassatt’s body, and he knew Eva’s, and the man did not hesitate to use his skills and knowledge against her. Kat’s body filled with desire and need, which fueled a narcotic-like effect in her mind. Images filled her aroused mind – she and Eva, chained to a bed, their only purpose to serve Alexander Morello by sucking his cock and enduring endless denial. In her lust haze, Kat wanted that scenario more than life, but she knew it was wrong. But, God, the woman loved it. Bound with her legs spread and her pussy put on helpless display, Kat moaned and squirmed, fighting her urges and biting her tongue lest she beg for more.

But Morello had posed a question to her. Why did she wish to endure the cane? Did Cassatt know her reasons for such punishment? Did she understand why she needed such a brutal beating?

“I – fuck –” Kat eyed Alex as he toyed with her. “If you were to – ugghh – please stop, I’ll –” The woman arched her back as much as she could, closing her eyes. The cane rolled off her chest and onto the floor. She didn’t care. A fine sheen of sweat spread across Kat’s body while her sex melted with Alex’s touch. He was so close to her clit, but knew the bound woman would not climax without clitoral stimulation. The torture would continue until she answered. “I – I need to know why – why Eva – why Eva – ughhh.” Kat bucked on the bench, trying to increase friction, but her exertion was useless. Alex knew her too well. “Why does Eva enjoy this? I need to – I need to know.” Kat’s confession was only a partial truth. The woman sensed Alex knew this. “And because –” She closed her eyes, fearing how Morello might react in her vulnerable state. Her body shook. “And – because I know this will – this will hurt you.”

Emily seemed to half-listen as Eva made her modest appeal. The gist of Morello’s plea was logical and not unreasonable, and if Emly Horn had the authority, she would have reluctantly agreed. Unfortunately for Eva, Esteban enjoyed his privacy.

“Hot damn, torture it is.” Em nearly jumped for joy at the prospect. “Should I start with hungry rats in your panties?” The off-kilter female leaned over to Eva and touched her lap. “Just kidding. Hungry rats are hard to come by and even more of a bitch to house with all their little pellets of poop and diseases. The rats don’t have diseases unless they are rabies. The fleas on the rats – eh, it doesn’t matter.” Em waved the whole conversation off and sat in the bound woman’s lap, smiling mischievously at her victim. “I do have a vial of Platypus venom, which can cause full body pain that may last for hours, days, or weeks and cannot be alleviated with any narcotics.” The dark-skinned woman ran a finger down Eva’s neck, simulating a sting with her long fingernail. “But we have a while, so I’ll start easy.” With that, Cersei began unbuttoning Eva’s top. Em took her time, smiling at the bound redhead while carefully slipping each button through its hole. “With each step, she unveiled Morello’s heaving breasts, still wrapped in the bikini top. “Hmmm,” Cersei said, curious about the top. “Did you plan to go swimming later?” Slowly, Em’s fingers pulled down the green top, revealing a surprise. “Why, Eva Morello, you naughty little girl.”

Side-eyeing her captive, Emily traced the healing whelps that sat on Eva’s breasts. “You will be a challenge, and I love a challenge. Of course, maybe –” Horn pinched one of the whelps, then twisted the flesh hard. “Maybe not?” Without warning, Emily grabbed Eva’s red locks into a balled fist and yanked her head back, kissing her as the tormentor raked her nails across the tiny whelps. The venous woman forced her tongue into Eva’s mouth and twisted her nipples harshly. Horn did not expect the Morello woman to break anytime soon, especially against strategies she might be accustomed to. But the dark-skinned lady enjoyed her job, and Eva was a delicious morsel.

“My god, you have great tits,” Emily said, toying with her captive’s nipples. “Round, firm, just a hint of vein and enough hang to enjoy.” The woman smiled as she weighed Eva’s left tit, then bent down to bite and twist one of the whelps. But suddenly, Emily stopped, stood from Eva’s lap, and knelt by a box. From the box, she retrieved nipple clamps with tiny little vibrators dangling from each. Smiling, Horn showed off the set like a gameshow hostess, smiling and admiring the craftsmanship. “Made from titanium and rubber, these beauties will give you hours of pleasure or torture.” Affixing the clamps to each of Eva’s pert, pink nubs, Emily watched as the tiny vibrators dangled from each clamp, their weight adding an extra sensory punch. With a battery-powered remote attached, Horn began to torment Eva. “The little demons have an AI in the remote so that the speed will vary, and you won’t get used to it. Ain’t modern technology grand?”

Emily ran her fingers through Eva’s hair as she walked toward the door. “I’m going to fix me something to eat. You have fun.” The woman winked and left Eva to her delicious agony.

112

“That which you feel now. The need. The arousal. That is what the pain gives her.” He continued to tease her, even as she bit out a string of ugly curses. “In the beginning, her love of the pain terrified her. She thought herself broken; another victim of childhood abuse. In the early days of our marriage, she worked so hard to be dutiful and perfect. She sobbed with every perceived mistake.

He stopped teasing the woman, giving her a moment–but only a moment–to catch her breath. “I wonder, did she ever tell you of the things her mother did to her as a youth? In your nights together I am certain she has instructed you to never touch her ears. Have you ever inspected them closely? Noticed the subtle scars? Her mother liked to box her ears, or twist them until they bruised. It is exceedingly uncommon in children, but Eva started to develop cauliflower ears. The family used money and influence to have it treated quietly so that none would ever question it. In later years, when Eva’s mother considered the girl too old for corporal punishment, she would be locked in an empty room for long hours–sometimes from sun up to sun down–to study, or merely sit alone. Eva would be starved. Once, Eva got so sick, the doctor assumed she suffered from an eating disorder. Her mother used the entire experience as a public service campaign to battle anorexia.” He chuckled, the sound dry and humorless. “She will be unhappy I told you all this. And, really, I suppose it does little to sate your curiosity.

“In the bedroom, she came alive.” Therapy helped too, though Alex knew that much was obvious. “We did not start with such harsh treatment such as the cane, but she always sought pain and discomfort, and, odd as it sounds, she blossomed into a truly powerful and sexual woman. And, where I would find myself content with the art of the ropes, ultimate control over ecstasy, and occasionally, some redness born from a cupped hand on rounded cheeks, I never expected her to ask for true torture.” He held up the rattan cane, just as he stopped his teasing.

Sighing, he set the object back between her breasts and traced fingers, damp from his efforts up along the line of her body. “I am a monster, and I am damned. I am Catholic, and I banned myself from ever setting foot in church again. There will be no confession for my sins. No forgiveness. You and I both know this. But my wife? She is a masochist with a heart of gold, and she is married to a monster who fell in love. Ask yourself this one question: knowing that you love her as well as I, could you ever inflict this on her, knowing how much she wants it, and not be heartbroken from the experience?”

He cupped Katherine’s cheek, gently, as he kept her eyes on his. Her breathing had slowed a bit, and yet he watched her still struggling as if she could find any sort of comfort after such teasing with no release. “So now you might ask, why did she want this particular punishment, and why now?” Alex picked up the rattan cane, letting the tip drag lightly along the underside of Katherine’s right breast, where soft flesh stretched against the edge of the ribcage. “Well, that is her guilt. She is finally beginning to understand the gravity of many recent choices, the biggest being you. Bringing you here. I never let her be a part of my world before. I never wished her to face such consequences.”

He tapped the cane lightly against the underside of her well-shaped, perky breasts measuring each movement, so that he touched both at the same time. His fingers, still damp and moist, slowly worked their way back down to the reporter’s sex, but this time he did not merely tease her. No, he touched her with intent to bring her harder than he ever had before. And the moment his fingers found her clitoris, he brought the cane down hard enough to make Katherine scream out, and tears prick at her eyes.

“You may come as much as you like,” he coaxed as he moved the cane lower tapping her gently yet again, as he watched the first of several pink welts darken and swell.

[hr][/hr]

The minute the woman, Cersei, left Eva tugged and struggled against the shackles. She would never forgive herself if she did not at least try some form of escape. With effort she twisted her arms, pulled, and shook the chains. She tried to kick out with her legs, and then to pull up. The metal fasteners, of course, did not budge. A time even came when she tried to lean forward, stretching her body awkwardly as if she could remove a padlock with her teeth. Such a silly notion, even for her, and yet the efforts–perhaps even the panic–it comforted. Later, Eva realized she would think back on this moment and be certain she’d gone completely mad.

Exhausted from the effort, and growing more aroused by the moment as her breasts burned, and the vibrations tickled and tugged at her, all the while synapses could not decide if they were supposed to excite her and push her toward climax, or to scream from the pulsing discomfort. Shaking her head she tried to push back her hair from the way of her eyes and nose. It took her several tries, and after a time all she could do was stare at the door, and try to keep her breathing slow.

The first task was easy, but as her arousal grew more desperate, she started to breathe faster, her chest heaving and soon she shifted in her seat, but even then small movements, making her labia react was just another torment. Biting her lip, she tried to ignore it. She failed. She tried to spread her legs more. It didn’t help.

She just about screamed in frustration. And that too gave her an idea. Looking to the door, she called out with as much volume as she could muster. “DAMN IT! I SAID I WOULD TALK. I KNOW SOMEONE ELSE IS OUT THERE. YOU HIRED THIS WOMAN TO TORTURE ME. WHOEVER YOU ARE, LISTEN. I’LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT TO KNOW! JUST… ARGH! JUST LET US TALK–JUST YOU AND ME. CIVILLY.”

113

Bound to the same wooden bench where Eva endured her punishment, Katherine’s legs were spread apart as she squirmed and writhed in a wicked dance orchestrated by her captor. The shackles around her wrists rattled as the bar rocked back and forth, clattering on the floor. Alex’s fingers slid in and out of Kat’s sex, tracing her folds and caressing her G-spot. Her hungry clit was left untouched, driving the journalist mad. And yet, she loved it. Every second of pleasurable anguish delighted Cassatt. Her hips moved to his rhythm, but Morello skillfully denied her friction enough to cum. “Please,” she begged earnestly, and he stopped, but not for her.

Cassatt panted, catching her breath, while Alex’s mood turned somber with a tale of his wife. Towering over her form, every detail Morello offered concerning his wife accompanied a caress, a tickle, or a soft, delicate touch that further drove Katherine to madness. The bound woman could only nod when asked about Eva’s abuse. She heard much from Eva herself concerning what she endured from her mother. And maybe such harsh treatment drove the redhead into Morello’s arms. Cassatt theorized that Eva herself did not know.

“Ugh!” Alex further taunted the journalist as he confessed his sins. How ironic, she thought, that he believed in God. More likely, his guilt or failings created a God that would damn him. For Kat, it sounded more like an excuse than a confession. As her brain and body shuddered from his tortuous touch, Cassatt could almost believe he was a monster. Maybe that’s what she wanted – a creature to condemn her to hell for her transgressions and ease her guilt. And if hell were endless denial, then Kat would go willingly.

Pitiful grunts timed with hopeless struggles; Katherine straddled the edge of insanity. She could barely focus when Alex dropped his bomb. “No,” she said through gritted teeth. Her azure eyes burned into his coal-black orbs, demanding he recant. But she knew he wouldn’t, for Alex was many things, but a liar was not one of them. With the truth revealed that Eva had ensnared Cassat in her trap, Kat turned away. Her pride, wounded for missing obvious clues, coupled with a shattered heart, Katherine lay quietly, waiting for her punishment. She said nothing as Alex trailed the rattan cane down her body.

When she was a child, Katherine’s father smoked cigars, and once, while walking beside him in the park, the lit tip touched her arm. She screamed and jumped away, drawing her wounded arm to her chest. Her dad pulled her toward him to examine his daughter’s burn. Red-faced and crying, the young Kat jerked her arm away. The Admiral took her home to apply a healing salve and comfort his daughter.

The first tap of rattan cane felt like that cigar burn. Katherine screamed and shut her eyes tight as tears threatened to well. Alex thrust his finger inside her, attacking her clit. Pleasure and searing pain mingled to rob the journalist of her senses. How could anyone feel pleasure from such misery? Katherine could not fathom Eva’s need for such punishment. Like Morello, Kat wondered if she was fated never to understand her lover. For a moment, Cassatt was thankful she would not live to endure Eva’s needs. That hell was reserved for Morello.

Alex did not strike her breasts wildly or with force. Years of practice allowed each tap to hit its mark precisely. And with each tap, Katherine screamed. Anguish mixed with tears as pain, both mental and physical, broke through the journalist’s emotional defenses. Between each cruel tap, Kat’s lust exploded, delivering a powerful orgasm to the suffering woman.

“Fuck! Stop it! Stop it!”

Another tap assaulted her breasts, striking plump new whelps and delivering another level of pain. Katerine came again. Red-faced and contorting on the bench, Cassatt barely resembled a human being. “Fuck you! You fucking –” The cane struck its mark once more as Kat screamed, and fingers bruised her clit enough to coax a third orgasm from her sobbing body.

“Redrum!” she bellowed, and Morello stopped in mid-strike. He placed the cane on her heaving chest and wiped his tired brow. But before Morello could speak, his cell phone chimed. It was Iason. Katherine watched Morello’s expression change from concern to anger to calculated determination.

“Wh-what?” asked Katherine in a tired whisper.

The door to Eva’s torture chamber opened once again. If she were observant enough, she would notice the cream-colored wallpaper in the corridor sported a framed picture on the wall of a black man playing piano in a cigarette-hazed jazz club. “I’m back,” announced Cersei, carrying a plate of French fries swimming in salt and vinegar. She held a chicken salad sandwich underneath the plate while the other hand brought a photo. “Don’t you just hate it when you find a pair of pants to die for and have no pockets?” The woman shook her head, knowing how the vibrating nipple clamps tormented Eva.

Before removing the clamps, Emily placed the photo of Eva and Katherine making love on the beach into the redhead’s lap. “She is gorgeous, so I don’t blame you.” Em let her finger glide across Eva’s jawline. “The things I’d like to do to her while you watched.” The woman quivered with joy at the thought and whisked the picture away. With a wink, Emily kissed Eva as she pulled off the clamps. The kiss deepened to muffle Mrs. Morello’s cries of pain as the blood rushed back to her aching buds.

Pulling away, Horn smiled wickedly, dangling the photo again. “I doubt I’ll get you both, but I will get the reporter.” Em nodded excitedly. “She’ll be my bonus after you talk, and you will talk.” The chocolate woman reached into her bag of toys again, pulling out a peculiar-looking vibrator. “This little devil,” Cersei began, “will stimulate the G-spot and the clitoris, but more importantly, it has a remote,” which Emily conveniently displayed. “Now, I will need to slide your pants and panties down around your ankles unless, of course, you wish to talk. No?” Horn barely waited before unsnapping Eva’s jeans, humming ‘The stripper‘ as she did. “Da-dum bum dum, da-dum da-dum …” Shaking her ass, Emily caught the rim of Eva’s panties and wiggled them over her legs, down to her feet. With the vibrator in hand, the dark woman carefully wedged it so the suction appendage hovered over Eva’s clit, and the vibrating end sat square with her spongy spot. The cruel woman’s brown eyes caressed Mrs. Morello’s body, savoring her soft, sheened flesh. “Here we go!”

She backed up, letting the device tease Eva’s most sensitive bits. “I’ll know when you’re about to cum,” Em said, running her fingers through the red locks. “And I’ll deny you again and again and again and again and again and again and –” She smiled. “You get the point.”

Opening a nearby chest of drawers, Horn withdrew a pair of panties and a stocking. “Since you’re not going to talk to me anyway,” Em teased and pinched Morello’s nose until the pale-skinned woman gasped. The bunched panties went into Eva’s mouth, and the stocking secured the undergarment with a cleave gag. “That should soak up the drool for a while.” Emily scooted a chair beside Eva and sat beside the tormented woman, teasing her jawline with her long red-painted fingernail. She traced the elegant bone from chin to ear, and something odd happened. Eva flinched. “What’s wrong, honey?” Cersei stopped the vibrator. “You don’t like this?” she asked, nibbling at her lobe. Seeing the redhead shaken, Emily tongued Eva’s ear and restarted the vibrator as long fingernails taunted Eva’s nipples again. “I could do this all day and all night,” Em whispered with a giggle.

114

His heart ceased to beat, and perhaps that was for the better. As Morello felt all color drain from his features, he spoke quietly to Iason on the phone, first for the report on the events, and then on the extent of his injuries. Whether or not he blamed his most trusted guard, and close friend, for the abduction of his wife, he did not yet know. Such things would be sorted out later. At moments he spoke Italian, and at others he switched to greek–Iason’s native language. While on the phone he slowly worked his way around the form of the woman in his care, releasing the ropes and snap hooks, giving the woman full freedom of her limbs. When she asked about the nature of the call, he merely planted a single finger over her lips; a gentle touch but one no less dipped in warning. Do not interrupt.

Putting the phone away from his mouth, he looked down at Ms. Cassatt, his tone sounding as tired and exhausted as hers. “I will help you sit up, and then you will remove the restraints. You will then lie on your back in my bed. I will return in a moment with all you need to soothe the pain.”

Intense cerulean eyes stared back at him, despite the exhaustion plain on her features he also saw her worry and confusion. Alex knew this woman was no fool; she knew something was wrong, if not the specifics. He did not have time to explain it to her now. Picking up the phone he put it back to his ear, as he cupped the woman’s face, acknowledging her, while speaking into the phone. “Stai bene, amico mio. Pregherò per te.”

He ended the call, and set the phone back on the floor. Giving Katherine his full attention, he helped her sit up, and placed the key to her shackles in her palm, gently closing her fist around the small object. “We do not have much time, mio caro giornalista. Please. Do as I tell you, and ask no questions.”

Leaving the room, he was gone for no more than a few minutes. On the usual carry tray he had water, peanut butter and crackers, as well as the same rather large ice pack that Eva had used just a few days prior. For a time, he just sat with his charge, helping her find a measure of comfort against six evenly spaced welts that surely started to ache and burn. Just as Eva always did, he placed pieces of cotton over Katherine’s nipples before stretching the pack over her bare form. And, for a time he sat beside her on the bed, looking down upon her. As he went to brush a still damp lock of hair from her brow, he could only nod with respect as she refused his touch.

“I will set a timer. When it goes off, you will want to remove the ice. And then, after allowing the skin to warm a little, Eva sometimes likes to apply coconut oil to her skin, followed by pure aloe once the oil is dry. You will find both bottles in the bedside drawer. I will give you all the time I can to allow you to rest.”

Leaving the woman alone–a small irony not lost on him–he gently closed the door behind him.

Alex Morello paced in his kitchen–a space that he had once equated to absolute passion–speaking to his people from across the globe. After one call ended, he started another. He spoke to his chief of security. His lawyer. The hacker kept on retainer–anyone and everyone that might manage to find the whereabouts of his wife, as well as the rival who held her. As a matter of course, someone would step forward and claim responsibility, along with a list of demands. The longer he waited for that moment, the colder he felt. Whoever this person was, they hid their tracks well–and yet he did not know why they bothered, considering the rather extreme and public measures used to take his wife, when, perhaps a mere bag over the head and pulling her into a van might have sufficed. That the abduction left Iason in the hospital–currently undergoing surgery–and a shop in shambles with several terrified civilians.

And yet, if his rival wanted to send a message, it was well received. This person would not only kill, but collateral damage meant little to him. What he would do to… to… no. He could not go there. Not yet. When the only path through was darkness, then let the monster be the guide–and piece by piece he felt himself grow colder. Distant. Detached.

Deadly.

After six–no, seven–calls, he had little more to do but wait for the inevitable process of demands and negotiation. And, in the meantime, he focused only on the factors he could still control–decisions that would need to be made with nothing more than stony logic. He would need a plan, as well as a number of contingencies. One miscalculation would certainly mean he never saw his wife alive again. Or he would, but… no. He could not go there. And, if it would not be him to save his wife from this peril, then who?

Katherine Cassatt.

Setting his hands flat upon the kitchen counter as he leaned, he looked toward his bedroom door. What would he do with her in all this? If he simply told her to stay put, wait for him to rescue Eva, then she might bolt–try to escape for home, and to the safety of her country. But would she even bother to run at this point? Looking down at his large hands, with long fingers that knew only the work of death, he found himself doubting that the woman would merely save herself. It was not in her nature, or at least it wasn’t anymore; she would not leave Eva willingly. Katherine was a formidable woman, among the strongest he ever met, but her relationship with Eva complicated much. A woman they had intended to destroy for nothing more than selfish gain had become so much more. Whether the reporter intended it or not, she left an indelible mark on the hearts and souls of both Eva, and Alex Morello.

He could send her away. Let her run to the nearest embassy. But given the events of the day, Alex found it very likely the airports were being watched. It’s what he would do. If he were to get Katherine to safety, then he needed to ensure he did it without the knowledge of his enemies–a risk, to be sure. He could bring in extra protection, and that would ensure the reporter’s safety, but if he took any rash action, then his enemies might take offense, and Eva would pay the price.

No. Even in his present state of mind, he saw in his mind the line he would not cross. The one last shred of humanity he had left. One way or another neither woman would suffer further. All sins were his, and his alone. As were Eva’s. God have mercy upon his ever graceful and beautiful wife–she never deserved any of this. Least of all him. And Katherine? Had it been in her nature, he would let her put the gun to his head and pull the trigger. He could only give her the next best thing.

Pushing himself off the counter, he palmed his phone, and stormed toward his bedroom with a set jaw and tense shoulders. Opening the door he moved directly into the closet, dressing appropriately for the occasion: simple dark gray slacks with a fine black leather belt, and black button down shirt. He wore sensible black high top sneakers, ready to move fast when the time came. Once dressed he pulled a sizable security box from a high shelf in his closet, and after inputting the code he opened the lid and removed his Glock G43X and appendix holster. After ensuring that his gun was fully loaded, safety on, and holstered, he walked back out the bedroom.

He sat on the bed next to Katherine, gently placing the gun between them. “Eva has been abducted. Iason is in the hospital, undergoing surgery for internal injuries. There are no demands yet, but it is only a matter of time. Given the timing, I would expect whoever took my wife, knows you are here. This means you, also, are in great danger.

“The call for demands will come soon, and then you and I will need to quickly make some critical decisions, all of which carry a great deal of risk. For Eva, and for you.”

[hr][/hr]

Two women kept Eva from losing her mind completely: Caroline Peters–her mother–and Katherine Cassett.

The moment her ear was touched, the bound prisoner ceased to be in the room. She no longer sat bound and tormented, as very old, and very deep mental scars brought fresh tears…

… alone in a cold and unfurnished room. A single bulb hangs from the ceiling, it is too bright to look at directly, and yet neither does the light quite reach the far corners of this miserable space. She is used to it. Her ears throb, as does her head, and her skin starts to prickle from the bite in the air. The windows, as always are boarded up, where only subtle rays of the day peek through small cracks. The only other objects in the room are a small wooden chair and writing desk, both in a plain, no frills shaker style. Atop the desk sits a latin-to-english dictionary. Her task was to write a letter of apology for disobeying… first in english, and then in latin. She thinks back to mother’s words, “You will be thorough, and your translations will be exact. Make a mistake and you will do it again, and again until you get it right.”

For a time, Eva revisited every memory where her mother struck her upon the side of the head, sometimes sending the girl to her knees as the room spun and the tinging grew loud in her ears. She felt the old and familiar ache and burn as her ears were wrenched and pulled until the crying little girl felt certain the lobes would be torn clean from her head. She heard the older woman screaming at her, belittling her, detailing her lack of usefulness, and how regretful it was to even have a child in the first place…

… but now that I’m stuck with your miserable existence, you might as well be of use to the family. I’ll teach you to be a proper young lady, you will learn about business, and politics, and public image, and you’ll make a fine senator’s wife someday. With time, perhaps you’ll learn to not be such an embarrassment.

That “training” came with nothing but cruelty, and impossible standards. She earned punishment for any grade less than A; for the slightest object out of place in her room. If they were late for a social engagement, they used her as the excuse, and still later she would often find herself punished for that too. Reality rarely mattered; nor did any of her efforts to please, or do well at anything. The only time she had ever received clemency had been the moments when her father was nearby, and he would calmly remind his beloved wife that their daughter was, in fact, only a child. Sadly, father was rarely around, and even his love often ran on the side of cold, as he often preferred to be left alone to his work, rather than spend time with his daughter.

And now, as memories flooded while her body trembled and bucked, and muffled cries issued through the wad of fabric, she knew she would look back at this moment and realize that those memories, at least in part, would save her. She had relived her past many times before, and would do so again. Years of therapy paired with a patient, and loving husband helped her move on and maintain some semblance of a normal life, and somewhere in all her years of hard work strife she found her own version of strength, despite the efforts of a mother who could only love with cruelty–the woman herself had been raised in much the same fashion.

Eva would always hate anyone touching her ears. It would always bring back things she wished she could forget. But at least, for the moment it proved to be a helpful, if miserable, distraction.

A particularly painful twist of both her rock hard and very sensitive nipples brought the bound woman hurtling back to the present, with a spongy cry. The panties in her mouth were soaking up, and growing heavy inside her mouth. Her jaw started to ache. She looked at the woman, glaring with rapt amber eyes, as Cersei went on with her utterly stupid and useless pop culture references, and “friendly” reminders that all this could end–all she needed to do was answer one question.

Moaning still from the endless assault to her sex and body, Eva Morello simply shook her head with adamant refusal. She had given the woman her answer already. And now it was a simple matter of willpower. Fighting for even the slightest of calming breaths, Eva settled her mind, if not her body. She let go of anything that mattered, and focused on maintaining one simple rule for herself. A single thought to repeat, and recite over and over again. No. Regardless of what her captors did, or any questions they asked, she needed only to say, or for the moment, indicate that simple, yet effective word. Her body did not matter. The pain would come no matter what. And she fully believed that even if she did tell this woman about hers and her husbands plans, the torture would continue. So why even bother to give in so easily?

So her torturer continued, slowly, and rather methodically increasing all the little torments by small degrees. Her sharp nails dragged deeper along still angry welts. She took her fiery hair by the fistfuls and harshly pulled until breath proved difficult, while planting soft kisses, and sharp teeth along her flesh. She continued to tug, bite, and lick her ears, each time getting the desired response of terror and panic. And, worst of all, the vibrator went on and off again repeatedly, and that turned into the worst punishment of all.

At first, the arousal itself was almost unbearable. So close to orgasm after orgasm only for her willing body to be denied was miserable. And, sadly, wonderful. The unsubtle threads of fear that her very life hung in the balance only heightened the discomfort. But, eventually, that arousal faded as her clitoris started to grow numb, and the vibrations upon her g-spot turned strange and sickly. Her own body no longer knew what to do with the sensations, and when it stopped cold her body started to relax, only to jump and shutter when the sensation started again. The pacing itself, arrhythmic pulses started to make Eva’s stomach turn and twist and her pelvic region began to ache. She could not help her constant tugging against her shackles, even though she knew she had nowhere to go. That godforsaken vibrator was truly torture.

With each denial for orgasm, and the u-shaped device ceased its hell-on-earth, Eva thought of Katherine. How many times had they edged one another? Though Eva played the domme, they often pushed one another to the precipice of madness and only then they brought one another and their passion would echo in divine harmony within bedroom walls. They would then hold one another both exhausted, and euphoric. She looked down at the photo of Katherine, and their perfect day at the beach. Their love had been real. Eva felt the truth of their feelings in every fiber of her being. And had that love been built on anything other than extortion and lies, it might have been something that lasted. And now, all Eva could hope for was to save the woman’s life.

Tears started to fall anew.

This woman would not get Katherine. Eva could not–would not–let that happen. And she knew Alex. He would protect her as well. They caused this–together– with all for their own selfish desires, and now they would need to be the ones to save their dear, and beloved, reporter. It was the only thing that mattered now. Katherine Cassatt would not be this woman’s next victim, and she would not lose her freedom, nor her reputation. Eva had to believe that somehow she would get out of this; that Alex would find a way to come to the rescue, and together they would do the one thing people like them never did: take responsibility. Confess. Go to prison.

And to achieve that end, Eva needed to do only one thing: refuse.

She looked to her captor, as sweat trickled down her temples, and tears streaked white against red, furious cheeks. Her nostrils flared and her breasts burning nearly as painfully as they day her husband caned her–her own self-induced punishment for her sins–and through all that pain and misery she showed this woman, this Cersei, her only, and final, response.

No.

115

As a journalist, Katherine Cassatt knew the price of knowledge usually came at a high markup. She never printed a worthy story that wasn’t accompanied by a few death or rape threats. Her apartment was quadruple locked, her home phone number was unlisted, and she knew how to handle a firearm. Some nights, she lay awake, wondering if her pursuit of the truth was worth all the pain. Cassatt usually fell asleep before an answer could come to light.

Pain from the whelps burned across Katherine’s breasts as her body reacted to the beating. She would live with the ache for a few days. While Cassatt lay on the bench, still bound, Alex spoke on the phone with purpose and determination. Something had happened to Eva. After giving her the key to the locked cuffs, Kat’s shaky fingers worked with an effort to free herself. Morello warned of a limited time window, leaving Kat on the floor.

So many thoughts raged through Kat’s mind that she struggled to focus. Had she learned anything from the beating? Yes. Kat learned a great deal from her ordeal, but Eva’s love of pain was still a mystery. Perhaps the reason was simple, as Alex explained. Eva enjoyed the floggings the same way Katherine longed for denial. And what of Eva? What had happened to her? Was she dead? No. Morello’s voice and body language would have told her. Katherine worried for Eva but was also conflicted. Could Cassatt forgive the woman for what she did? Katherine had no immediate answer, but she knew herself better and did not regret the experience.

After returning to her side, Kat accepted (with some irritation) Alex’s help to move from the bench to the bed. She winced at the weight of her breasts as they swayed in searing pain. Tears welled in her eyes again after Cassatt lay down. The cotton tickled her nipples, but the ice soothed her pain. The food and water were appreciated, even if Kat did not vocalize it, as she wanted nothing to do with the man. Cassatt had asked for the punishment and, at long last, believed that Alex derived no pleasure in the act. Morello was not Alex the Black of her dreams; perhaps that disappointed the reporter. A part of her longed to serve the couple and remain their prisoner, doomed to perpetually endure the agony of denial. But such a life was only a fantasy, and Kat felt ashamed for entertaining such a thought.

Once Morello left again, the journalist watched the timer as she dined on the peanut butter and crackers. She thought of escape, but (beyond being exhausted) she could not leave Alex in such a state, nor would she abandon Eva, whom she deeply loved. Now, that love would be tested.

The timer went off, and Kat removed the ice packs, placing them on the nightstand. The cotton swabs fell from her breasts, which she had to gather and toss in the bin. Cassatt retrieved the coconut oil and aloe from the drawer next to the bed. She dabbed a dollop of oil into her palm and carefully spread it over her pained breasts. The whelps remained, as did the whisper of the pain. After applying the soothing aloe, which better eased the pain, both breasts shined in the dim light. She wiped her oily hands on a towel. Once again, the temptation to run struck her. Cassatt looked to the window. Maybe she could climb out and – but she was completely naked. “I won’t get far like this,” the journalist whispered to herself.

Alex returned fully dressed. The woman backed away as he produced a weapon, an automatic reflex. Had the arms dealer wanted to harm the reporter, he would have done so. The journalist eyed the weapon as Morello placed it between them and told her of Eva’s kidnapping, underscoring that she and his wife were in danger.

That a ransom demand would soon follow Eva’s kidnapping made sense. Alex was wealthy, well-connected, and oversaw a sizeable illegal arms empire. The rival, as Alex suggested the kidnapper was, might want money, information, merchandise, or revenge. “So, we wait?” Katherine attempted to curl up, wrapping her arms around her knees, trying in vain to ensure her breasts were free. She gave up and lay back down on the bed. Alex had seen her body numerous times over. Why was she so self-conscious now?

The journalist also understood the waiting game, as well as Morello, if not better. In the real world, she might wait days for a hot tip to pan out while chewing at the bit to release a story. More times than she could count, leads fizzled out, or informants backed off or disappeared. During her abduction, the waiting terrified her more than any confrontation. The unknown always steered thoughts to the worst scenario.

Katherine eyed the gun again. She assumed he would use it on the rival after Eva was safe, yet it was odd that he placed it on the bed beside her. This was no mind game between enemies. Not when Eva’s life was on the line. Did he want her to take the gun? Her azure eyes hovered over the firearm once again.

“I guess I should get dressed.” Kat pushed herself off the bed, ignoring the gun, and began to dress. Forgoing a bra, Katherine chose a white cotton top so as not to aggravate her breasts any further. Stepping into loose-fit jeans, she prepared to be on the move, adding thick socks and sturdy boots to her ensemble. The gun remained on the bed where Alex left it.

“Thank you for the ice, crackers, and oil. They all helped.” Cassatt, her back to Alex, moved to the bedroom door but stopped. “I didn’t learn what I hoped, but stories usually travel in their direction, and we discover other things along the way. For instance, I’ll never ask you or anyone else to do that to me again.” The woman chuckled briefly, then turned to face Morello. “I’m sorry I made you do that.”

A long time ago, Kat learned to busy herself while waiting for information and decided to make herself useful. “I’ll have a look at that list of rivals. Maybe you should, too. At the very least, busying yourself will offer a distraction. If not, I understand. I will be in your study if you need me.” By now, Alex should have known that Katherine would neither sit and wait nor would she heel to his command. And Cassatt knew whatever plan Alex intended. He had already set into motion. He likely had twelve scenarios in mind to retrieve Eva, all ready to implement with a phone call.

An hour later, Katherine and Alex narrowed the culprits to several names. Any one of them had the means and opportunity to abduct Eva, but what was the reason? No demand had been received. Kat spun around in the chair, her index finger tapping her bottom lip. “Maybe we’re thinking about this wrong? What if Eva was abducted, not for ransom, but for questioning? I initially planned to speak with your wife and learn what I could through her.” Cassatt stood on her feet and returned to the bedroom with renewed determination, palming the Glock. After ticking off the safety, she stuffed the weapon in her jeans. “I need to do what I do best, which is investigate – scout out the abduction scene, interview witnesses, and ask them what they saw, heard, felt, and smelled.”

Kat grabbed her phone and marched toward the back door. Alex tried to stop her. As he took her arm, Morello could feel her tremble and hear her quickened heart rate. The journalist was terrified. “I don’t want to die, but Eva could be – they might –” Katherine would not finish the sentence, focusing on the objective at hand. With one hand on the doorknob, she turned and kissed Alex hard, her fingers rubbing his cock through his trousers. Before he could protest, she pulled away, smiling. “You can fuck me after we find Eva and bring her home. For now, I need the keys to your car.”

“You are a stubborn little minx, aren’t you?” Em chimed in a sing-song manner. The torturess pulled back from licking Eva’s ear and stopped the vibrator. She unclamped the woman’s nipples, allowing Mrs. Morello to feel the blood rush back. Horn revealed the shock on Eva’s face as the pain stung both nubs. Finally, the chocolate woman untied the gag and retracted the soaking panties. She gathered all the devious instruments and placed them in a bag lifted from the box by the wall. “I’ll need to wash these later.”

Without another word, Horn left the room, locking it behind her and leaving Eva to think about what might happen next. Emily was surprised by Morello’s willpower, but the redhead wasn’t the first hard nut she had to crack. There were multiple physical torments Horn knew would break her victim, but Diaz wanted no harm to come to his rival’s beloved. Harm was a relative term, and Em knew of ways that would cripple Morella and yet leave no marks on her body.

Diaz sat by his desk, monitoring the situation with the boutique and Morello’s chauffeur. As Alex, Esteban enlisted informants and a few bribed officials to aid in his schemes. The Cuban looked up as Emily entered the office. “What do you have or me?”

“She’s tougher than I thought. If you will let me break a kneecap or –”

Esteban shook his head adamantly.

“Morello’s not going to crack if I continue to tickle her. I need more wiggle room.”

Diaz leaned back in his chair. “What do you want, exactly?”

“Sensory deprivation. Given enough time, it’s 100% effective. Your boys and I will put her in a sleep sack and leave her. Morello’s mind will do the rest.” Em didn’t seem particularly thrilled to use such a method. It wasn’t sexy or fun for her, but the deprivation would get the job done.

“You have one of these sleep sacks?” Esteban asked.

“Of course,” said Horn.

The man nodded. “Call in the others and make it happen.

The door flung open, hitting the wall. The two men who abducted Eva entered; one carried a Walther PPQ M2 .45 handgun. The other had what looked like a large, black sleeping bag under his arms. Cersei followed, immediately untying her charge. “If you will stand up, please, we will prepare you for the next questioning phase.” Horn aided Eva to her feet and helped her step away from her pants and panties bunched on the floor. Morello’s top was removed, and all jewelry and shoes were taken.

“Your effects will be returned should you cooperate. Now, please stand still.” Em took the sizeable black sleep sack and unfolded it on the bed. “Now, either get in or answer my question. It’s your choice.” Horn watched as Eva reluctantly sank into the heavily buckled black leather body bag. Once in the bag, Emily pushed Eva’s arms by her side and pressed her legs and feet together. Both men buckled the leather sack shut, enclosing Morello’s body within. Emily produced a hood with dark, black goggles and tubes through the nose. “I’ll just slick back your beautiful red mane and slip this on.”

The last buckle in the leather sack snapped around Morello’s neck. Eva was helpless, at the mercy of her tormentor. The dark-skinned woman held a photo of Katherine up for Eva to see. “My friends and I are going to shore. We’ll find your lover, and when we do, well –” Horn placed the hood on Eva’s head and slid it just above her ears. “I’ll send you a recording of her screams.” Leaving the hood only half on, Emily fixed Eva with earplugs and a mouth guard. Horn then slid the hood fully over the captive’s face.

“If you can still hear me, I will turn out the lights and let you rest. You may enjoy this at first, but eventually – You know. I might spring for the rats to try on your girl. I’ve never actually done that. It should be interesting. You think about that, and I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

Emily Horn let out a tiny giggle as she left the room.

116

Humans were animals. Many liked to believe that they were evolved, surrendering baser instincts to reason and conscience. But, everything–everyone–had a breaking point. The moment Katherine Cassett touched his cock, it was not the man, but the animal within that responded. At first, as he watched the woman he kidnapped for his own personal gains smile cruelly at him, attempting to use his own body and desires to manipulate and toy with him, all color drained from his face. That his erection grew? A simple byproduct of chemistry. That only enraged him more.

It took him two strides to reach the reporter as she glared over at him, her expression seeming more haughty than afraid, or concerned. Fire burned in those blue eyes as brightly as the look in his own eyes was enough to make most men piss themselves. Without a word he took Katherine by the arm, his grip tight enough to bruise, and without a word he pulled her away from the doorway. Whether she followed willingly or not it mattered little; she could resist until her arm detached from the socket for all he cared. With an almost effortless motion he shoved her into an oversized armchair sitting just across from the fireplace, and leaning over, removed the glock from the woman’s waistband and flicked the safety back on. “Stay put.” He growled as he stormed out of the room.

In his bedroom he let out a string of curses in Italian. His hands shook. It was only several minutes later when he came back to himself that he realized the bedroom had been turned into a victim all itself. Vases, and various other ceramic baubles scattered in pieces around the hardwood floors. Legs of furniture added to the debris in jagged misshapen splinters. Only when he heard a pitiful sound pass through his lips did he realize his cheeks were damp.

God forsake him, he looked around and realized his true weakness. How easy it would be to simply burn it all down…. Just end it all. Give up. He peered down, as if just noticing the weight of the gun in his hand. The safety was off. He needed to only use it once more. Ironically, if he did it, he would likely save his wife. They were using her to get to him, whether it be ransom, or interrogation, his end would mean her salvation. Or, if her captor had any honor, he would at least end it for her just as swiftly and painlessly. She then too would feel no more pain, or suffering. She, at least, was pure enough to join their daughter at the gates of Heaven. Stella–named so that when he looked at the night sky, he could imagine seeing her looking down upon Eva and himself. Even at a mere 18 weeks of life, he made sure she had been baptized. Their unborn child deserved at least that much. It would be the only gift he would ever be able to give.

Sighing and blinking away his self-pity, he flipped the safety back upon the weapon and he took the holster from the bed and slid it inside, clipping it to his belt. Then, he strode into his closet and took only one other item: an unopened pack of shoe inserts.

He rejoined Kat, first handing her back the firearm, inside its proper holster. “It’s designed for a cross arm draw, faster than most other holsters. And safer. You will not save Eva if it misfires into your femoral artery.” He then handed Katherine the insoles. “Insert these into your boots. They are designed to be used for people with dementia or Alzheimer’s. I would often ask Eva to wear these, but she always refused, insisting that they would not fit properly with sandals, or heels. We will connect it to the app, and share the serial number with whoever it is you choose to call to rescue you. Even if the tracker is discovered we will likely be close enough to our enemy that your people–the calvary, as your American shows and movies call it–will have enough of a lead to find… you.

“We will go together, and you will get your investigation. But first, you will take your mobile, and you will call whoever you think will be able to come to your aid quickly, and in force. Do you understand?” He paused for a minute, letting his words sink in. “You will disclose everything. The full truth of your kidnapping, me, Eva… whatever it takes to bring a veritable army.”

Alex crouched down low, clasping his hands before him, almost as if he were in prayer. “When we brought you here, you well know we used extortion, but even that was not entirely true.” His gaze settled at nothing in particular, as though his eyes glazed over as if he saw something else entirely. “But the m threat of ruin was our only leverage against you. When Eva insisted she do her part, I refused to use my full resources. Exposing any misdeeds of yours, whether they be fact or fiction, would have put my empire in the public eye in a way that would have harmed me more than you. It never would have been worth the effort.” He laughed darkly. “I even forbade her to restrain, or threaten you in any way. All deception aside, I wanted you here as our guest. This home always was our truest, and most private getaway. Iason and the gun you carry now was our only protection. You were never in any danger.

“I have called my people, and many are at work trying to discover whoever took my wife, but no one can get here quickly enough. Nearly all my resources were focused on securing a future free of all this.”

Alex sighed and stood, giving Katherine space to move. “Go. Make the call. And then we will go wherever you wish. Together.”

117

“Ow,” Katherine said, flopping in the chair. She watched Alex march back to the bedroom, the Glock in his hand; his feet stomped across the hardwood floor with a menace she rarely observed, even for him. Cassatt rubbed her upper arm where Morello grabbed her, feeling his tight grip. Maybe she shouldn’t have come on so strong to him after someone kidnapped his wife. But she couldn’t help it – imagining Morello tossing her against the wall and fucking her. But now Kat hated herself for it. Maybe she deserved to go down with the ship.

Only a few minutes passed, and Alex stood over her again, explaining the usage of his firearm. The journalist knew how to handle a weapon, thanks to her father, but she wouldn’t argue with the arms dealer. Not because he was right but because they were both running out of time to save Eva. After placing the GPS insoles in her boots, Kat scrolled through her phone’s list of names. Kat trusted two people in her life: Jacob, her editor, and her father, Admiral James Cassatt. Both were men of action with influential friends, but any help from an army was hours away. Kat needed more incentive. “I need access to your computer and the list of names with your collected details. We may have to use larger bait to get what we need in the least amount of time.”

Katherine’s relationship with her father was complex. Until recently, when the journalist relayed a message to the admiral, neither had spoken to the other in years. Katherine called her father, allowing Alex to hear the conversation via speaker.

“Hello, Dad? I need you to listen for a moment. I’ve been kidnapped.”

“I might have known. I told you –” There was a slight pause. “Where are you? Are you hurt? Who took you?”

“The island of Cypress in the Mediterranean, and I’m fine, but a friend of mine is in grave danger, and we don’t know where she is.”

There was another pause, though much longer than the first. “Hold on, Kitten. Tell me where you are – no, wait. I’m writing down your GPS information. I will –”

“Dad, please listen carefully. I’m being held by Alexander Morello; however, his wife has been abducted. We need help in locating her.” The journalist eyed Alex, seeking confirmation for the inevitable. He nodded. “Morello will surrender himself if we help find his wife.”

“To hell with him and her!” the admiral spat. “I’ll be there as soon as I can with a fucking army. Just hold tight, Kitten.”

Maybe that was enough for now. Neither Kat nor Alex knew where Eva had been taken. To find out, they needed clues. As a journalist in the 21st century, Kat relied on her phone for contacts, information gathering, a camera, a measuring device, a currency calculator, a scanner, a translator, GPS location, and much more. With help, she could link to real-time satellite footage.

“My father will certainly call in favors from Cairo, Ankara, Lebanon, or anyone who will show up, which doesn’t give us much time. Let’s go.”

Currently, Katherine had no idea how to proceed, but through her mobile and the help of a Geek/English translator, she found the key witness in the boutique accident. “Head to –” She showed Alex the address while entering his black 2022 Alfa Romeo 4C Spider. “It’s a few houses down from the Renos Coffee Shop.”

A few minutes later, Alex and Katherine knocked on Mrs. Thalia Christodoulou’s door. Kat let Alex gain entry with his smooth-talking ways. Christodoulou stood 5′ 4″ tall, thin, and looked roughly 35 years old. According to her employee bio, she was 43. Divorced, her apartment was sparse, with a few boxes to unpack. The woman hesitated to talk, but Morello gained her trust with a portion of the truth.

“You saw a woman? Red hair? Cinnamon eyes? Alabaster complexion?” His description of Eva was hardly unique, but how Morello spoke of his wife conveyed the man’s earnestness. Christodoulou agreed to talk, though she spoke no English.

“Did she see anything or anyone odd before the accident?”

“Eíde káti paráxeno prin to atýchima?” asked Morello, translating Kat’s query.

The woman shrugged, shaken by her ordeal and wary of Kat and Alex asking questions. Morello requested Thalia make metrios, Greek coffee with one teaspoon of sugar to ease her mind. A routine might calm the woman. As she left for the kitchen, Katherine peeked out the window. She shook her head, singling that no one had followed them or had the authorities returned.

After a few minutes, Christodoulou presented a tray of coffee and Koulouria, Greek butter cookies. Alex sat down, though frightened for his wife and enraged. He put on a smile for their host.

After serving her guests, the woman held up two figures. “Two men,” she said in her native Greek.

Katherine sat back, a pleasant smile on her face. “We must find these two men, so I must ask you several questions. I hope you don’t mind.”

“What did they do?” asked Thalia.

“They may have kidnapped my friend’s wife. The authorities are concentrating on the accident, not the woman’s disappearance. I assure you. The proper authorities will become involved once we know something.”

Still uncertain, Mrs. Christodoulou allowed the questions. Kat didn’t hold back.

“What did they look like? What language did they speak? Did they want anything? Was there anything odd about them – how they acted, walked, talked, sounded, smelled?”

Christodoulou took a healthy sip of coffee and bit into a butter cookie. “Two men. One was young, medium height, with brown hair and brown eyes. I waited for him. He – there was nothing odd about him. He only wanted something nice for his girlfriend and asked many questions.” The woman paused for a moment. “He smelled,” she said with a laugh. “He wore a thick cologne, but there was something underneath. Fish. He smelled like fish. He had a deep tan, too, and his hands were rough.”

“The other gentleman?” asked Cassatt.

“The other guy was older, about my age. 37. He stood in the back and looked around.” She patted her head, looking at Kat. “Balding,” she said in her best English. “The bald man never said anything and looked average for his age, brown eyes, brown hair, what there was of it. He also had a deep tan. I don’t know what he smelled like.”

“The woman?” Kat finally asked.

“Panemorfi! Panemorfi!” Mrs. Christodoulou smiled sadly at Mr. Morello. “She floated into the boutique but said very little, only wanting to browse. I think she wished to be out and about with people.” The woman shrugged, uncertain of her assessment of Eva’s mindset.

“Is there anything else you can tell us? No matter how small. Any detail?” asked the journalist.

At first, Christodoulou shook her head, but then she recalled one odd fact. “Nysa, the other girl who works at the shop, swore to me that she heard two sirens. One right after the accident and one when the ambulance arrived.” Again, Christodoulou shrugged. “I heard only one siren.”

Ever the gentleman, Alex stood and bowed to their benefactor of information. Morello took her hand and pressed his lips upon her knuckle. Christodoulou blushed and giggled.

“Se efcharistó polý glykiá mou,” said Kat in her best Greek. Mrs. Christodoulou laughed and nodded. Alex, despite his dire mood, also chuckled.

“You called her honey,” he said with a thinly veiled smile.

Katherine slapped her forehead and laughed before leaving with Morello.

Traveling in the Spider 4C, Kat phoned her editor. “We should interview the other employee, but first, I want to corroborate her statement.” That two sirens wailed at the scene was hearsay, but ruling it out was faster than interviewing a possible unreliable witness. “Hello, Jacob?”

“Kat? Where are you? What have you – Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but I need a favor with no questions asked. At least not yet.” She winced, expecting an explosion.

“Fine, fine, let me give you anything you want even though I haven’t heard from you in weeks. What happened with Morello?”

“I’ll get to that. Do you recall the gentleman from the NSA I spoke with about a certain spy satellite?”

“Yes,” Jacob answered, dreading what Katherine would say next.

“I need access to that satellite again … unrestricted access through my phone.”

Kat held the phone away from her ear as a string of expletives erupted from the mobile’s speaker.

“I’m being held captive by Alex Morello, whose wife has been abducted by a competitor. We must find her. In exchange –”

“Kat, what are you doing with –”

“In exchange, you will get the story of the decade – Morello and his competitors handed to the authorities on a silver platter. Here is something to whet your appetite.” Cassatt uploaded all the info Morello had on Senator Peters. “DO NOT go with this yet. There will be no way for you to authenticate the story. Not yet.”

There was a long pause.

“Jacob?”

“You better be right about this, Katherine. And I mean it, Princess. I’ll get back to you within an hour.”

“Make it less. Bye.”

Once she ended the call, Kat directed Morello to the boutique where Eva was abducted. Once there, the journalist hopped out of the vehicle and took photos behind the shop. A few police cars sat idly by. Alex remained in the sportscar. Cassatt spotted fresh tire tracks in the dirt behind the shop. Snapping a few shots, she sent them to Jacob. As Katherine finished, a policeman stepped out of his car. Kat leisurely walked back to the Alfa Romeo. “Go,” she told Morello. “I found tire tracks,” Kat said as they moved on. “They look to be all-weather tires, which most ambulances would use.” Her phone beeped with a chat bar.

NSA: “What do you need, Ms. Cassatt?

KitKat: “The island of Cypress. Elite Boutique, address E 909, Kyperounta 4876, Cyprus. Three hours ago.”

NSA: “One moment. Got it.”

KitKat: “What do you see? Anything odd?”

NSA: “I don’t see anything – wait. An ambulance was parked behind the boutique.”

KitKat: “There will be an accident at the boutique. Wait for it and –”

NSA: “I see it. Two cars smashed into a limo. The ambulance is still there. No. Three people came out of the back. They are getting into the ambulance. One up front. Two in the back. The siren is on, and it has taken off.”

KitKat: “Follow it, please. Speed up the footage if you need to.”

Katherine, with Alex, watched the ambulance weave its way through the traffic on her phone.

“He’s heading for St. Raphael Marina,” added Morello, who knew the area.

KitKat: “Stay on the ambulance, but fast-forward to St. Raphael Marina.”

NSA: “It went into a tunnel and disappeared.”

KitKat: “See if –”

NSA: “I’m looking. A 2015 silver Audi with four doors, traveled from the tunnel to the marina. Three people emerged from the vehicle. They boarded a yacht, a big one. It looks to be manufactured by Lurssen.”

KitKat: “Can you locate its current whereabouts?”

NSA: “Hold, please.”

Katherine took Alex’s hand. “Almost there,” she said, hoping to comfort him.

NSA: “Present location is 35°N, 29°W.”

KitKat: “Keep an eye on it, please. If it moves –”

There was a very long pause.

KitKat: “Hello?”

NSA: “I can’t. I’m sorry. Tell Jacob we’re even.”

NSA has signed off.

Katherine sat in the passenger side of the Alpha Romero, phone in hand. “I guess we have to find it. Somehow.” She held Alex’s hand again. “We will,” she affirmed. “We must. Now, let’s go.”

118

Though Morello did not relish the idea of going out on the water after sundown, he did not see any better options. Thanks to Katherine’s resources, they had a probable location of Eva’s whereabouts. His instincts told him if she was out there, his wife would be at the NSA operator’s given coordinates. It was as good a plan as any, and without any phone call from Eva’s abductors stating demands, he could not sit idly by waiting, not when he knew beyond all doubt that Eva suffered.

He always felt when she was miserable, unhappy, or in pain. It was never a connection he understood, but by the grace of God, there it was. Closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath, he prayed only that she find the strength to hold out only a little while longer.

“Come.” Alex led Ms. Cassatt out onto the docks, and it did not take them long to make their way to his private vessel, a compact, yet spacious sailing yacht, with the name “Mariah” painted in simple black scroll lettering along the starboard side near the stern.

As he stepped aboard he kindly asked Kat to cast off as he fired up the engines. Typically, he would take his time, and go through a series of safety checks, but tonight he cared about none of that, and as soon as the reporter finished her task, he backed the yacht out from the dock, and headed slowly down the lane of the harbor and out toward the open water.

Once they were on the open water he set the coordinates provided by the NSA official, and set the autopilot. He sat back in the cushioned helm seat and turned to Kat who sat next to him. “We should arrive at the coordinates sometime in the next hour.

“But, out on the water at this time in the evening, it may get chilly. I believe there are some jackets in one of the bedrooms downstairs.”

Sighing, Alex stood, and guided Katherine down to the main galley area. Though the space was quite small, it featured a full, kitchen, and luxury seating area. He had planned to offer at the very least some water, though he expected that Kat felt much like him: neither hungry, nor thirsty, nor sleepy. Nothing seemed to matter while the woman they both loved dearly was missing, and presumably being tortured. The mere thought turned his stomach, and left his knees feeling weak.

“Hot diggity! I love it when I’m right.” An unfamiliar woman’s voice stopped both Kat and Alex just at the bottom of the narrow staircase. As he stepped out of Katherine’s way, and flipped on the cabin’s overhead lights, his entire body tensed as he saw a woman with dark brunette curls and a smooth dark complexion sitting casually on the sofa. Her clothes were beachy bright, and he did not care at all for the twinkle in those dark almond eyes. Behind her stood two men wearing black shirts and black slacks. Both men matched the description given by the witness they questioned earlier.

He did not look at Kat when she placed a hand on her gun. She had indeed been well trained, and he felt glad when she did not automatically draw. Unfortunately, the two henchmen in black pulled their .45 semi-automatics, aiming with clear precision. Even if Kat was a quick draw, and he felt certain she would be impressive in such a situation, the chances of being able to take out both men at once seemed unlikely. Starting a firefight now would only hinder their rescue attempt. He could only hope Kat would recognize their disadvantage.

Alex gave the unfamiliar woman a cool stare. “I take it then, you are responsible for my wife’s abduction.”

The woman nodded, her lips parting in a cruel smile. “Gold star for you! Mrs. Morello and I have spent a delightful afternoon together, and I can assure you that she is, at the moment, quite miserable.” The woman chuckled lightly before turning a much cooler gaze at Katherine. “And unless you want me to make her more miserable, you’ll get rid of that piece. Now.”

The reporter opened her mouth to refuse, but Alex did not give her the chance. “Katherine. Please. Do as she says.” He did not take his eyes off the other woman, regardless of the men behind her, he was well aware of Katherine’s hesitation. He kept his eyes on the other woman. “Now.”

Their only chance was that Mr. Cassatt, Katherine’s father, would arrive soon for them all. It was their only play.

Finally, and with more than a few unkind words, Katherine did as she was bid, sliding the gun across the table. The woman palmed the gun, quickly flipping on the safety and handing it to the henchman on her left. “Frankly, I hate guns, they’re quite… unimaginative.” The woman looked to the henchman on the right, and gave him a single nod. In an instant the henchman fired.

The pain in Alex’s knee was immediate. Excruciating. He shouted in agony as hit the ground in a heap, the indescribable pain shooting from his left leg and through every nerve ending in his body. His breath turned shallow and all color drained from his face, and he let out a long string of curses in italian.

“And yet,” the woman finally said, chuckling lightly, her dark eyes sparkling with lightness and mirth, “sometimes they’re terribly effective. Now then, Ms. Cassatt,” she said as she pulled out two sets of zip ties. “I want you to go put one of these on Morello, and then yourself.” She shoved the thin plastic strings into the reporter’s hands. “Chop, chop! I’ve been just itching to play with you for quite awhile now.”

Barely aware, he had just enough faculty to hear the frustration behind the woman’s words. She was hiding something. Perhaps Eva was resisting. It took himself a moment to realize that he had started to pray in his native tongue, and he only came back to himself when his view of the other woman was blocked, and soon he was met by a pair of deep blue eyes filled with rage and fire.

It was the voice behind those bright eyes that asked in a shaky voice to put his wrists together. He grunted a bit as the plastic bit into his wrists. Mustering his strength, he looked up into Kat’s eyes. He raised up his now bound hands, doing his best to caress her cheek; to comfort her, even as she shrank back and away from his touch. He did not blame her… so much pain he had already caused.

And now it was all up to her.

119

Katherine glared at the woman sitting on the sofa. Only a threat due to her henchmen, the dark-skinned female was wild-eyed but in control. Her thugs, whom Kat recognized from their descriptions, stood at the ready and would kill Morello and Cassatt at the strange woman’s order. Although the reporter sensed she was not their employer, Kat begrudgingly slid her firearm across the hardwood dining table and watched the mysterious woman palm Morello’s gun.

“Here, take the fucking thing.”

During the conversation between Alex and their uninvited guest, Katherine learned that Eva was alive but was in pain or discomfort and had been tortured in some manner earlier. Kat remained motionless, but her reporter’s curiosity began to boil over despite the danger. She grew curious about the woman’s intentions. If Eva were the woman’s captive, why surprise them on Morello’s yacht? Something was off.

A shot rang out at Emily’s order. Katherine flinched but spun around as she heard Alex crumble to the floor. “Alex!” She dropped down to him immediately, hovering over the gashed wound. The twisted expression on his face forced a sympathetic glance from Cassatt, and she knew he would never fully recover from such an injury. Yet there was no doubt his mind centered on Eva’s plight despite the pain. When Em slid the zip ties in her direction, Kat looked for a towel or a cloth to wipe the beading sweat from his brow. However, their guest was determined to hurry things along.

Standing, Katherine again glared at their unwanted visitor, swiping the ties off the table. She knelt beside Morello to bind his hands together. “Please, if you will, put your wrists together. Here, let me help you.” She held the man’s hands in her own, her breath shaking. How often had they been this close, both in dire conflict and yet yearning for one another? His caress was somewhat comforting but not something she needed now. “I’m – I’m sorry,” she said, making the ties snug against his wrists. Katherine rose again, furious at Morello for their current situation. A decision he made long ago now threatened all their lives when they were so close to Eva.

When it was her turn, Katherine’s hands trembled as she looped the plastic ties against her wrists and grunted as she pulled each zip tie taught against her skin. “Wh-what? What now?”

“Wh-wh-wh-what now?” Emily chimed in a mocking tone. “Now, you follow me.” Horn made a come-hither motion with her finger, grinning from ear to ear. Katherine weaved through the cramped space toward her captor, scouting the area for any advantage, anything she could use or do to end the nightmare. The balding henchman, his .45 aimed at Alex, flashed a wolfish smirk at Katherine. The other eyed her with villainous lust. Kat shuddered as Emily took the reporter in a protective hold. “Don’t worry. You be a good girl, and they won’t touch you.” Emily ran her tongue over the brunette’s jaw, stopping at the chin, then laughed as Cassatt squirmed in disgust. “But if you don’t do everything, I say …” Em eyed the two men with an evil glint in her eye. “I’ll have them turn you into a Chinese finger trap.”

Katherine’s lips quivered. Her brilliant blue eyes bore a hateful glare into her captor, which pleased Horn immensely. “You and I will have some fun, Miss Lane.” Before she exited the cabin with her prize, Em shot an order to her thugs. “Keep your eye on the Lord of War over there. If he makes a move, put a couple of free samples of his wares into his forehead.” The men acknowledged the command but exchanged a look of uncertainty that caught Kat’s eye. She knew whatever happened, Alex would be safe.

Stepping onto the deck, Emily embraced Katherine, reveling in the woman’s fear and disgust. “I like it when you squirm,” she said, reaching around and grabbing Katherine’s firm buttock. “I’ll relieve you of this,” Horn cooed, removing Kat’s phone from her back pocket. “Sit down.”

Katherine sat across from the wheel, watching Em stow the phone in her back pocket. “What have you done to Eva?” the journalist asked.

Emily brushed the wind-tussled curls out of her eyes, giggling darkly. Steering the yacht off its planned course, she hummed happily. “She’s –” The woman looked at her watch. “As I said, Eva is quite miserable but, overall, undamaged. For now.” Emily looked sadistically at her captive, soaking in the woman’s beauty. “You should be more concerned about what I have planned for you.”

Katherine shuffled in her seat, imagining all manner of horrible tortures. “Wh-why? Why hurt me?”

“Why?” Em replied as if searching for the answer herself. “Tell me. Do you believe in fate?”

Kat shook her head.

“Nor did I until I saw your picture with Mrs. Morello.” The woman seemed to fade away momentarily, her attention caught by a ghost. “My ex’s last name is Horn, but it’s a stage name. She reinvented herself using a nom de plume after her idol, Lena Horne. But, she was born Lydia Ernestine Barnes in Surrey, England, and she had a little brother, the sweetest, nicest man ever.” Em’s vacant stare quickly faded, and vengeful eyes looked hungry at Cassatt. “You do remember that name, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Katherine replied, ghosts returning to haunt her. “Sister of Sgt. Author Barnes, marine in Afghanistan. I wrote her but never received a reply.” Kat’s heart sank. “I am so, so sorry –”

“Don’t!” raged Emily. Horn spun in the captain’s chair, confronting Katherine. Her long, dark fingers clawed at the woman’s thighs. “You wrote my wife a letter telling her how brave her baby brother was while you ran away.” Horn traced Katherine’s jaw to her ear and down her neck. “You do know how prisoners are executed in Afghanistan?” Em asked. “They are beheaded, but it’s not like in the movies. It’s not one easy chop. They start at the throat with a dull blade and saw the knife back and forth over the skin.”

Katherine tried to pull away, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I know. I didn’t want to leave them.”

Emily mock pouted, taunting Kat while she unbuttoned the brunette’s top, revealing Cassatt’s freckled chest. “That was so sad. Do you still feel guilty? So guilty that you’ve been shacking up with an arms dealer.”

Katherine closed her eyes, feeling the cool air on her chest while Horn traced the outline of Kat’s lacy bra. Kat hissed. The red whelps on her breasts still stung. “And what do we have here?” Horn asked, lowering Katherine’s bra. Someone likes it rough, just like your girlfriend.” Cassatt looked away, humiliated. She thought about explaining the marks, but what was the point?

“Anyway,” Horn continued. “Revenge is just one of my motives for you. A big one, yes, but only one of many.” Horn kissed Katherine on the jaw, still toying with the whelps on Cassat’s breasts. “As a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, I bet you have a ton of secrets about some very important people. Secrets people would pay for. And enemies.” Em laughed out loud. “Oh, yes, I you probably have a shit-ton of enemies that would pay for a piece of you or a few hours with you.”

Horn twirled around on the deck, her smiling face looking up at the stars. “But, back to revenge, I want you to feel the same as my sister. I want you to want something – no, need something so impossibly bad that you’ll go mad without it. Something you will never have again. You see –” The woman plopped beside Katherine, wrapping an arm around the reporter while pressing her Sig P365 into the brunette’s ribs. “I torture people with sex for money, and I love it. No one is hurt, and I get lots of money. Win/Win.”

“You’re insane,” Kat spat.

“No. I’m bored. I never have time to play for myself and what I want to do –” Em squealed with delight. “You’ll love this. I want to edge and deny you forever.” Em twirled her gun around her index finger but kept it close to the terrified Kat. “Not forever. Just the rest of your life, and I’ll give you breaks so you won’t go completely insane. It’s no fun if you aren’t aware of your endless torture.”

Fear paralyzed Katherine. She sat, hands bound, as the salt air breezed through her brunette locks. The sound of lazy waves lapped at the hull of the yacht. Beside her sat a beautiful creature who had lost all sense of humanity, if she ever possessed it. She was a two-year-old with a weapon.

Emily brought her cold, black-steel weapon to Katherine’s chin. “Open wide,” she said with a curious grin. Kat refused, tightening her lips. Emily frowned, placing the gun barrel next to Kat’s temple. “Open.” Closing her eyes, Katherine complied, parting her trembling lips. Emily ran the cold barrel down the side of Cassatt’s face, under her chin, and finally pressed the weapon into the shivering woman’s mouth. “At three inches, I know it’s far smaller than anything you’re used to, but please be a good girl and wet this barrel as best you can.”

Katherine, her eyes shut and her body shaking, rounded her lips and slid them over the dark metal.

“Don’t worry. It’s clean, now suck,” ordered Horn.

Katherine moved her wet lips awkwardly over the barrel, tasting the metal. Tears born of fear began to well in her eyes.

“You can do better than that. Let’s see you suck the finish off this thing.”

Katherine leaned forward, moving her lips against the thick barrel. Saliva thickened upon the black steel. Em snaked her free hand into Kat’s jeans, unzipping them. She tugged and tugged while Kat actively wept and continued her heinous chore. Finally, Em scooted the jeans over Cassatt’s knees and down to her boots.

“Stand up,” Horn ordered. Kat complied. Em aimed the gun, its barrel thick with drool and spit, an inch above Kat’s knee. “Slide your panties off. You don’t want to end up a cripple like your lover, do you?”

As best as she could, as the zip ties bound her wrists, Katherine lowered her panties until they fell around her jeans.

“Spread your legs.”

“Pl-please…”

Em pressed the barrel against Katherine’s knee. “Spread. Your. Legs.”

Shaking, tears falling from her cheeks, Katherine complied and parted her legs as much as possible. Emily, grinning, nearly licking her lips, wedged the length of the barrel under her captive’s slit. The cold steel pressed against Katherine’s warm sex felt like a shock, jolting Kat. She stumbled. Em slapped the woman on the thigh. “Stay still.”

Meanwhile …

Below deck, Baldy’s phone rang. He answered it. “Sir?” the henchman shook his head. “No. She’s with the reporter.” The henchman looked at Alex. Yes, he is, sir.” There was a pause. Are you sure that’s wise?” After another, much shorter pause, Baldy knelt to Morello, holding up his cell. Esteban Diaz’s face filled the screen.

“Hello, Alex.”

Diaz looked down, understanding there would be a reckoning for what he had done, but Morello was there for a reason. However, something was off with the man. “You look unwell. What’s wrong?”

Diaz cursed under his breath in Cuban. Horn would pay, but later. He still had a task to complete.

“Eva is unharmed. I hope to release her shortly.” The aging arms trader wiped his wrinkled brow but did not falter. “When I lost John, my world ended, and I have since become … lost. Friends I once trusted appeared as enemies.” The man removed a cigar from a lower drawer in his desk. Cutting the tip with expensive clippers, Diaz lit the cigar and drew a few puffs before continuing. “I wanted to get out, but I knew my legacy would follow me unless I bestowed it upon someone. I chose you as my successor.” An ironic smile flashed quickly over his lips. “But, I noticed a few irregularities as I investigated your holdings. Guns destined for one location for years suddenly found themselves in another location. Then, you sold off a couple of companies. And finally, you invited a well-known journalist to your villa in Cypris.” Esteban rolled his cigar between his thumb and index finger while staring at the screen. “I know now that I should have called you as I am doing now. It seems unfathomable that any other action should have occurred then, but – well, as I said. I was lost.”

Diaz removed a 9mm Luger from his desk. “You’ll be reunited with Eva within the hour—two at the outside. I do not wish anyone to experience the pain I have endured after losing John. Now, I’m sure you have something to say.”

Emily Horn slid the Sig P365 into Kat’s vagina, fucking the woman as she stood in the chilled night. “I once shoved a wine bottle into a woman and shattered it. She talked then. Afterward, we took her to the emergency room.” Horn fixated on the hot, squishing sound the three-inch barrel made fucking her new toy. “There’s all manner of things you can shove up there,” Em said, leaning closer to Kat’s sex. “So many ways to play with a woman’s pussy.” Sliding a finger inside Kat, Emily, her eyes excited with power and lust, toyed with the woman’s clit. Kat felt the twinge of excitement flutter within her. The firearm, though fucking her at a steady beat, did nothing to excite the terrified reporter. However, the clitoral stimulation found Cassatt suppressing a deep moan. Were Eva fucking her in such a manner, Kat may have given in to the alluring mixture of fear and sex.

“Cum for me,” Em commanded. “It might be your last change.” Kat cautiously opened her eyes. Her torturer sported a maddening smile while sliding the gun in and out of her prize. But in that moment, Katherine’s future life unfolded with crystal clarity. Life as a sex slave? With Eva or even Alex, yes. Such a life was worth fighting for. She is their creation, their Frankenstein’s monster. Endless pleasure mixed with endless need, wrapped in joy, sorrow, triumph, and tragedy. A life shared through love. Yes, such a life was worth dying for.

“N-no,” said Kat, her voice wavering.

“No?” Emily slid the gun further into Kat’s sex, pressing the hard metal against the woman’s labia. “I told you what I would do. Shall I call Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb?” Em placed her finger on the trigger. “Why don’t you sit on the bench and jack yourself off for me.” The madwoman twisted the weapon inside Katherine; she doubled over in pain, falling to her knees.

“Get up!” Em demanded.

Katherine slowly looked upon her tormentor. “I know you won’t kill Alex. You can’t, so take your revenge now.” Cassatt, her expression set, ready for the end, rose to her feet. Stepping out of her pants and boots, the woman shuffled across the deck toward Emily.

Em sighed, then met Kat with a wicked smile. “Gentlemen!” she yelled. Kat could feel the cool night air between her legs. Footsteps sounded from below, marching to the deck. Em’s smirk never wore off; her gun remained pointed at Katherine.

“All right!” Katherine relented. “Okay, okay. I’ll … I’ll do whatever you want.”

Emily grinned, satisfied with her captive’s surrender. “It’s fine, gentlemen. You can go back now!”

Katherine moved toward the bench but eyed the railing. She leaned over as if to sit. Instead, Cassatt jumped on the bench and dove into the water. Emily fired her gun, drilling holes into the hull. “Goddamnit!” she screamed. “Get up here and bring Morello.”

While the henchmen struggled with Alex, Katherine swam under the yacht.

“Get him up here! Hurry!” Emily ran around the deck, looking over the rails for any sign of Kat. “Bitch!”

Cassatt recalled the bet she lost with Alex in their pool. She knew she could hold her breath for three minutes, but already 40 seconds had elapsed. She had an idea, though it was risky. Katherine swam to the bow of the boat, then slowly, carefully climbed up on deck, thankful it was dark. She couldn’t see Emily yet, but her target was in her sights. Hunkered down, Kat crept toward the mainsail. The henchmen dragged a grunting Morello out on the deck, which complicated matters, but Cassatt was already committed.

“She has to come up soon!” Em placed the barrel of her gun flush with Alex’s cheek. “Tell her to come out, or I swear –”

Kat leaped off the top of the companionway, grabbing hold of the boom and knocking Horn off her balance. Her gun fell on the deck, sliding away. Kat rolled into Em, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Let her go!” shouted Baldy. The other henchman kicked Alex in his injured knee. Horn kicked Kat in the ribs, pushing her away. Katherine fell beside the hull. She raised her right hand, holding her phone.

“Let us go, now, or else.”

“Or else what? You’re going to call Daddy?” Emily taunted.

“Or else I’ll release the name of every arms dealer on the planet.”

Em sneered. “You’re bluffing.”

The henchmen looked at one another, uncertain of what to do.

“I’ll give you until the count of three to get off this boat.” Kat propped herself on the hull, her thumb on the button. “One …”

Earlier …

Esteban Diaz held the Luger in one hand, his fingers fumbling a Cuban cigar in the other. He didn’t blame Alex for his ire but would deprive the man of revenge. It was an ultimate irony, Diaz thought, that Morello wished to retire too. How nice it would have been sipping drinks together on some enchanting beach. “Live and learn,” he thought and laughed. He would do neither. He placed his cigar in an ashtray and brought out a photo of himself and his late husband. “I’m sorry, John. It looks like we’ll see each other sooner rather than later.” Diaz readied himself. His jaw clenched. He placed the barrel of the Lugar at his temple.

“I would put that down if I were you,” said a voice from the hall. Diaz looked up to see a man dressed in a black wetsuit with a backpack, damp, graying hair and aiming at a Walther PPK (with silencer) directly at his head.

“And you are?”

“Cassatt. James Cassatt.”

“What will you do, shoot me?” he chuckled.

“Yes. But you’ll live, and you won’t like it.” The Admiral waved his pistol at Estaban. “Lower the gun.”

Diaz nodded and placed the Luger on his desk. “Admiral. Won’t you have a seat?”

The Admiral entered the red oak office, nodding in appreciation. “Nice office. Now, would you kindly tell me where the hell my daughter is?”

Diaz reached for his bottom drawer. Cassatt could move quicker than his age would suggest, slapping the man across the face with his open palm. “If you’re reaching for a cigar, no thank you. I quit years ago.”

Esteban’s jaw quivered, but he recovered quickly. “I was, in fact, going to offer you a cigar.” Diaz glanced out of the doorway. “I assume my people are –”

“Incapacitated. Not dead. Yet.”

“I’ll call my people and have your daughter brought here.”

“Coordinates will be fine. The Hellenic Coast Guard will be by shortly to pick you up.”

“Ahh. I see.” Diaz sank into his chair. “I may have some bad news for you, Admiral. An associate of mine went after your daughter a few hours ago. She is a bit psychotic. I’m certain Katherine is still alive, but as to her condition, I can’t vouch for anything.”

A siren sounded over the water. “That will be the Coast Guard.” The Admiral grabbed Esteban’s Luger and tucked it in his backpack.

“Before you go, a woman, Eva Morello, is trapped in a gadget, gizmo, or something in the master bedroom. You may wish to free her.”

Cassatt had heard the name. He eyed Diaz darkly and waved him by. “You first.”

Diaz stood and headed out the door. He noticed a small pool of seawater at Cassatt’s feet. “I didn’t hear a ship or helicopter. How did you get here?”

“Submarine. A friend of mine has one.” The Admiral pushed Esteban down the hall.

“She’s in here,” said the arms dealer.

James, entering the room, saw the dreaded leather bondage sack. Earlier in his naval career, he was bound to something similar for interrogation training. The Admiral had no time to trust the arms dealer and struck him over the head with the butt of his PPK. Kneeling beside the sack, the Admiral patted the woman’s shoulder. “I’m going to get you out. Hold on.” He rose and dimmed the lights. “Close your eyes,” James said, waiting a few seconds before removing the gas mask. As expected, he found the woman encased by a hood, which he unzipped slowly. The redhead gasped.

“You’re safe, Mrs. Morello.” Doors slammed open. Boots stormed down the hall.

“Took you long enough,” the Admiral barked.

A dark-eyed woman in a dusky blue uniform with a camo vest and helmet knelt beside Eva. “Ma’am,” she began in a Greek accent. “I’m Helena. Can you tell me your name, please?” Soon, numerous hands were working around Eva, checking her vitals. “We’re going to get you out of this bag, ma’am. You’ll be out in under a minute.” The woman nodded to another man who was quickly unbuckling the bag.

“Got it!” he said.

“We’re going to slide you out very carefully. Don’t move. Let us do all the work.” Helena looked up, readying the others. “Hey? Where did Admiral Cassatt go?” The woman didn’t have time to care and gave Eva a reassuring smile. “Ready? Let’s go!”

“Two.”

Katherine ensured everyone could see what she was about to unleash.

Baldy aimed his .45 at Kat. “Put it down, girl, and we’ll all walk away.”

“No!” screamed Emily. Growling and gnashing her teeth, Horn picked up her gun and fired at Katherine. One bullet went into the hull. The second bullet nicked Kat’s shoulder. The phone flew from her hand, bouncing off the railing and landing in the water. The third bullet shot into her abdomen. Katherine fell onto the deck, holding her belly. Blood seeped between her fingers.

The bald henchman grunted. “What a waste,” he said and moved toward Kat. He aimed. A shot rang out.

Emily spun around, looking toward the mainsail. A dark figure fired two more shots. One grazed Em’s head. The woman collapsed on the deck like a stack of bricks. The second henchman wasn’t so lucky. He grabbed his heart and fell over. The figure jumped onto the deck. Seawater dripped from his wet suit as he raced to Kat.

“Hold on, girl,” he said, fetching a kit from his backpack. “Press down hard. I know it hurts.” Katherine moaned as she clutched her father’s hand.

“Daddy,” she sighed, a glimmer of a smile on her face.

“Yes. I’m here, Kitten. Conserve your strength.” Admiral Cassatt held his daughter tight, pressing down on the wound. His eyes welled as he kissed her forehead. Suddenly, the phone in Cassatt’s bag lit up. As did Emily’s. The Henchmen’s. Morello’s. The Admiral grumbled, pulling out his phone. “This better be bloody important –” James’s eyes widened as he looked at his phone. “God in Heaven.”

“Surprise,” Kat whispered through a cough. Tiny splatters of blood pelted the Admiral’s wetsuit.

“Hold on, girl. Hold on, dammit!”

A siren screamed over the water from a distance. James looked over his shoulder, hoping they weren’t too late. He looked toward the disabled Alex. “Morello?” the Admiral asked. “Your wife is on that ship. She’s – physically, she’s fine.” Cassatt, his hand red from Kat’s blood, held his phone loosely, reading the names and the reactions. “It’s the end of the world as we know it.” He tossed the phone, applying pressure to the wound with both hands, gazing helplessly at his daughter. “Pray that she lives, Morello. If she doesn’t, neither will you.”

A large patrol vessel, flying the Greek flag, inched toward the Mariah. Three rescue boats splashed into the water, making way for Morello and the rest. The Admiral sat with his daughter, both hands stained with blood, desperate to stop Kat from bleeding out.

Helena, who rescued Eva, quickly knelt beside Katherine, moving Cassatt’s hands out of the way. Helena checked the wound as blood pooled from the gunshot. Quickly, she secured a pressure bandage on the wound. “What’s her blood type?” Helena asked.

“O Negative,” answered the Admiral.

The woman sighed but signaled her people to get Katherine into the rescue boat.

“Will she be all right? Will she live?” begged the Admiral.

The Guardswoman shook her head. “It’s 50/50 at this point and pointed to Alex. “Someone check on this man’s knee! It looks like shit!”

The Admiral stood, glaring at Morello, but went with his daughter.

Two Guardsmen knelt by Alex. “Sir, I’m Nikos Vasilakis. We need to check out your knee.” Another guardsman rolled up Morello’s sleeve and injected morphine into his arm. “This will help with the pain, sir.” Others worked on his knee, cleaning out the blood and dirt and numbing the area. More guardsmen crowded around Alex, bringing a stretcher and splint. “We need to straighten your knee, sir. It’s going to hurt.” A young guardsman took Alex by the hand. “Squeeze if you need it.”

“Pull and straighten. You got it?” the lead Guardsmen instructed the others. “Sir, we are going to pull and straighten your leg. It will hurt.”

The young guardsman wrapped his gloved hand around Alex’s hand. “You don’t need to act tough around us, sir. Vasilakis cries over a hangnail.” Everyone laughed, which was the cue for Nikos to pull and straighten Alex’s knee.

“You did great, sir! Let’s go!”

120

Eva

In the few hours since her rescue, Eva still did not quite believe anything was real. She seemed to be floating. Her body ached and shivered. Her head throbbed, and low cramping came in waves from where her sex had been vibed and tortured for over an hour. Breathing itself felt like a chore. She had barely enough faculty to smile up at the Coast Guard’s on board medic, as her husband’s condition was explained. She acknowledged the nameless, faceless person, but found herself capable of only basic language such as “okay” and “thank you.”

She hunched slightly, perched upon a small doctor’s stool. A blanket draped loosely around her shoulders, not that it did much to ward off the chill that left her trembling from the inside out. She pulled the blanket more securely about her shoulders, doing her best with her one available hand, as her rescuers saw fit to secure her the gurney by which she sat. That did not bother her so much though, as her husband occupied the bed to which she was shackled, and his hand did not leave hers. Mrs. Morello found herself fully aware that this might be the very last time she got to share a moment, let alone a touch with her huband. She would not waste this precious moment of mercy, even if it only had been a byproduct of practicality.

He too, of course, was handcuffed. No formal charges had been brought. Yet. It was only a matter of time. Neither spoke. Alex faded in and out of consciousness, though the creases upon his forehead had faded as various medications worked within his system to manage the pain and stave off any possible infections. He would live though. Surgery on his knee would come later.

The person had to leave quickly, however, when someone hastily called them over to the ship’s small but fully functional triage center where several alarms started to go off.

Kat was being treated in that room. She’d been shot in the stomach. There was a chance she would die. Shuddering, she denied herself further thought about it. She… couldn’t. She loved that woman. But she also destroyed that woman. And for what?

No. There was nothing to rationalize. Nothing justified all this.

The truth was very simple: Eva Morello was guilty.

Looking about the rather small space, other injured parties filled the clinic on the Coast Guard ship. Cersei remained unconscious upon a small gurney not far away, where a nurse worked at cleaning a head wound. Her left hand was cuffed to the gurney. Next to the woman was an older man she did not expect to see: Esteban Diaz. A man she knew only by reputation. Alex refused to ever speak of the man, or the nature of their business relationship. Though he held a rather large ice pack to the back of his head, she noticed how he watched with keen awareness and interest everything going on around him. And soon, his gaze turned and their eyes met. The moment those small dark brown eyes regarded her, she could not stop the tears welling in her eyes.

Guilt crashed over her, and she cast her eyes down into her lap. Everything happening in this room was her fault. Everything that came before, and all that was yet to come would be solely her responsibility. All of it was on her. And for what?

Was a new life in the world worth all this pain and suffering?

“Mio caro amore, per favore, non piangere.” A hand she had nearly forgotten about squeeze hers, and she turned back to meet those endless dark eyes. That look always reminded her of the sky during a new moon, and she always thought of it as hauntingly beautiful. Endless. Even as fresh tears stained her pale cheeks, she found a small smile just for him.

Reaching up, she used her one free hand, and placed it upon his forehead. His fever had lessened. When her embrace slipped gently down to the side of his face, her nose scrunching at the stubble of his five o-clock stubble, he turned into her hand, kissing her palm. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He squeezed her hand again.

“And I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Eva lowered her head then. Swallowing back a heavy sob. Alex spoke to her then, his hand squeezing hers as his words fell back to his native Italian, but even then she did not fully hear.

Besides, no words would soothe how she felt. She got Kat shot. She hurt numerous people in so many different ways. At that moment she honestly could not wait to be locked up in prison. Life in a tiny gray room, with bars for a door did not seem so bad.

“WE NEED MORE O-NEG!”

Voices suddenly rose from the triage room just beyond.

“THAT WAS THE LAST OF IT!”

More angry voices rose louder, multiple conversations at once as everyone searched for a hail Mary solution.

Eva’s eyes snapped toward the other room. Oh God. Kat. She gave Alex a questioning look. He merely averted his eyes, saying nothing.

Where suddenly the world felt cold, her body instantly warmed, panic rising quickly. “I’m O-Negative.” She spoke quietly, but it was enough for Alex to look back at her.

He nodded, gazing into her eyes with pure adoration. “I love you. Forever.”

She returned the sentiment, and looked up, clearing her throat. “I’m O-Negative!”

No one seemed to hear her at first. She repeated her words, raising her voice a bit louder. One steely, infuriated gaze found her. The older man who saved her. Katherine Cassatt’s father. “You’re what?!”

“My blood type is O-Negative. I can help Kat.” Eva held his gaze. “Please. Let me help her. Take as much blood as you need.”

[hr][/hr]

Three weeks later…

Open toed black pumps, and a web of lacy straps echoed against the smooth concrete, and plain cylinder block walls. The harsh glare of the fluorescent lights overhead did little for her pale complexion, but she already accounted for that with one of her favorite form-fitting gray dresses, and bold red lips. The red was more than personal touch; she always wore it when she wanted to remind herself that she was out for blood.

Really she didn’t need to play rough today, but it always made her job all the more fun.

Just behind, the wheelchair–pushed by one of the prison guards–had a squeaky wheel. She rolled her eyes. Really? The warden couldn’t spring for a can of WD-40? Oh well.

Opening the door to the interrogation room, the corners of her mouth turned up as she looked down at the utterly depressing and pathetic creature that sat in a steel chair, just on the other side of the matching steel table, both of which were bolted into the floor. On that table, one delicate hand was secured to a large ring embedded into the table–standard procedure, of course. And the woman? She wore bright orange scrubs with the bold letters of DOJ printed on the back, and her bright red locks were pulled back into a simple pony table. Without make up, the girl’s face looked almost sallow. Clearly that shade of orange was not Mrs. Morello’s best color.

She sat in the chair, staring blankly ahead. If she had noticed anyone entering the room, she gave no indication. Rebecca Van Hoult could only smile down at the pathetic shadow of a woman. She could almost find sympathy in her heart. Almost.

“So, I hear congratulations are in order. You are to be a mother. Yes?” Ms. Van Hoult, lead prosecutor for what would become the trial of the decade, sat in the other bolted chair opposite the other woman, and set her brief case on the table long enough to take out the necessary paperwork for the meeting. She did not expect Eva Morello to answer, but that was okay, as she looked back up to the other woman, and then over to the figure in the wheelchair–Mr. Alex Morello–she could tell that neither were in a state of mind for small talk. No matter. That one question was enough to create the desired ambiance.

Opening the top file folder, she folded her hands over the paperwork, and did not need to work hard to maintain her sunny disposition. “So, I really gotta hand it to you both. In all my career I’ve never seen a geo-political… stage quite like this. The UN is having a field day. Really. I thought it would be at least another seven years or so before I earned my appointment to Secretary of State, but now that I think about it… well, let me say, I’ve shaved quite a few years off that goal.” Her smile widened as she put a hand against her chest. “From the bottom of my heart. Thank you both.

“Now then. Mr. Morello, you and I have had some conversations already. However, I thought it best I meet with you both today to offer your plea deals. She turned to Mr. Morello first. “So, you’re charged with,” she looked at the paperwork, “the sale of illegal arms in the US, extortion, money laundering, and the list goes on, most of these are first degree offenses.” She shook her head, like a grown up scolding a child. She even added a small tsk, tsk noise. “Mrs. Morello, you are charged with aggravated kidnapping in the first degree, and extortion in the second degree. We might have had you for sexual assault as well, but Ms. Cassatt was quite adamant on that point. Oh well, we still have enough to put both of you away for a very long time. Mrs. Morello, you might be free in time to see your kid for high school graduation. Don’t hold your breath though.”

A tear trickled down the redhead’s cheek. “She’s healing, then? From the… the incident on the boat?”

The prosecutor shrugged. “I’m not a doctor. That’s not for me to say. But, I can tell you that you’ll likely never see Ms. Cassatt again. Ever.”

Eva Morello shuddered, covering her face with her one free hand.

“Ms. Van Hoult, please get to the purpose of this meeting.” Mr. Morello had a rather limited range of movement, given that his hands were cuffed, and his right leg was wrapped, braced, and elevated in the wheelchair. Still he grunted as he shifted as if he could sit just a little taller.

She did not let her smile fade as she turned the page in her files.

“The point. Right.” Rebecca shrugged. “This trial is going to be center stage in the media for years to come, and, for me and my career, the flashier the better. So, frankly, if I had my way, I’d nail you both to the full extent of the law,” Rebecca sighed, though she showed no outward signs of genuine melancholy. “But, unfortunately, I have to be humane, and ethical, and all that nonsense, so we have come up with some lovely little plea deals.

She handed the top page to Morello, who struggled to reach forward and look at it. “You will plead guilty on all counts. You’ll go into protective custody, which basically boils down to a gilded cage, and there you will work as a consultant, and asset for the CIA. The latter part, of course, won’t be publicized, and your life won’t really be your own.

“Still, this does beat prison, and, more specifically, gen-pop. Go down that road I expect it’ll be no more than six months before you are assassinated. I mean, really, letting that reporter go public with so many criminal activities? I cannot even fathom how many enemies you made.”

Mr. Morello tossed the sheet of paper onto the table and sighed. He gazed over at his wife, who now leaned back in her seat, her eyes once again glazed over. She at least seemed to have regained some of her composure.

Rebecca passed the second paper to Eva. “For you, given this is your first criminal offense, and given all your good deeds as a philanthropist, if you plead guilty to all charges, you will be placed under house arrest and we are prepared to offer probation. However, along with this, your parents, Jonathan and Caroline Peters, have already started a petition to the courts for conservatorship of all your assets for the full term of your sentence. You will also be required to undergo counseling.”

“No! This is unacceptable! You do not know those people! What they did to her as a child…” Alex’s face turned red in an instant as he heard the terms of his wife’s sentence.

Remaining calm as ever, Rebecca turned to Mr. Morello. “Who do you think brokered these deals? Who has the power and the backing to make these sorts of deals even possible? It sure as hell isn’t the justice department.”

Alex sighed and leaned back in his wheelchair. He suddenly looked very tired. “Senator Peters.”

“Bingo!” She leaned back and folded her arms, letting satisfaction wash over her features. And by doing the good senator a favor, or three, my future is secure. There would definitely be champagne tonight. Still, she looked the other woman in the eye. “Listen, I know this is a tough choice, but let me offer some perspective. Prison is as dangerous for you as it is your husband, and you have more than yourself to consider… your… mother also asked me to relay a message to you. I’m paraphrasing, but basically she said if you take this deal, then you will be allowed to raise and care for your child, under her supervision, of course. However, if not, she is already prepared to take custody of the kid when it is born, and begin the process for immediate adoption. And, make no mistake, as a convicted felon, your chances of retaining custody of any child is slim to none.”

“Where do I sign?” More tears trickled down her cheeks, and Rebecca had to hand it to the woman for maintaining such grace and composure throughout.

Alex leaned forward slightly in his chair. “Ms. Van Hoult, would you mind giving me a moment with my wife?”

“You get two minutes.” Standing up, the councilwoman smoothed out her skirts and gestured for the guards to step out of the room. Though the prison guards looked rather uncomfortable at the notion of leaving two felons unattended he followed her out of the room.

[hr][/hr]

Eva

She stared at the plea deal. The words were printed upon the paper in clear black and white, but she saw nothing but a blur of gray as she wiped away the dampness of her cheeks.

“Mio caro amore.” She looked over at Alex, and as much as she wanted to reach across the table, if only to feel his touch once more, she knew any movements toward him might be considered hostile.

“Eva, Mio caro,” he repeated, and he offered her a small smile, “how are you?”

Eva shrugged. “I’m getting a lot of morning sickness.”

Alex chuckled, though such a humorless sound bordered on uncomfortable.. “I remember you did not care for that before.” His smile faded. “Listen. If you do not wish to take this deal, you just say the word. We will find a way out of this.”

“No. We won’t.” Eva narrowed her gaze to her husband, a rare display of anger rising up and warming her skin. “There’s nothing we can do here, Alex. We have to take these deals. That woman is right. If we go to prison your enemies will target us, and then what? I cannot lose another child Alex! God have mercy, I can’t.” She started to cry anew. “And I cannot lose you! And, I certainly will not run from the consequences of my actions. What I did… how I… she almost…. No, Alex. We have to do this.

“Eva, it was our actions. Ours. You do not bear all the blame. I am a monster…”

“You are not!” Eva glared at her husband. “You are-were-God, whatever, your life was so much more than your job! That’s why I married you! Even knowing what you did for a living. But you, Alexander Morello, you have always been so much more the violence surrounding your life. You just never seem to believe that. So, I chose to love you. To have faith, and to believe in you for the both of us. But it’s my fault for losing sight of that. And she- I mean, a lot of people got hurt because of that. I–we–have to take responsibility Alex. We have to.”

“But your mother…”

“I will handle my mother. And the rest of my family.” For the first time in her life, she knew she could. “I’m not who I was before. I’m stronger, Alex. Because of you.” And because of Kat, though she did not say it out loud. “And, at least if I am there, I will be able to take care of our little girl. Or little boy.” At the thought she smiled slightly. “Besides, after everything, if we run away from this now, then everything we did to her… no, she would expect us to make it all worth something.”

Alex frowned, his jaw tightening. Eva could see the glint of unshed tears in his eyes. He had another thought, and she knew he was not going to like what he was about to say. “Do-” he swallowed, “do you wish to divorce? It- it would afford you certain freedoms.”

“No!” Eva’s heart broke at the mere thought. “Never! You are my husband and I love you more than anything.” But even as she said it, and she did mean it, she also knew it was not the whole truth. She loved another as much as him–someone she also knew, deep down she would never get to see again. “There is nothing that would make me break my vows. Never. Do you hear me Alexander Morello? I don’t care how far apart we are, or whatever else the universe throws at us. I will always be your wife.”

The tears he had been holding finally fell, getting caught in the stubble around his jaw and chin. “God have mercy, Eva, you are the love of my life. I do not deserve you.”

Eva shrugged. “Love is not about what we deserve. Love is a rare, and extraordinary gift. Something that can only be given freely.”

And, perhaps someday, forgiveness.

121

HCG Trireme

Admiral Cassatt sat outside the OR while the surgeons operated on his daughter. He was tired. His muscles burned, and he couldn’t work the kink out of his left shoulder. Twisting the appendage, the old man grimaced until he gave up on any amount of relief. Some used to say the admiral was a handsome man for his age, but at that moment, he felt a million years old – a useless 60-something who lacked youth and wisdom. He ran after Katherine like a rookie, full of emotion with barely a plan. But plans were a luxury, and Kat was alive. That’s what Cassatt told himself.

His adrenaline long gone, the admiral watched as his only child lay between life and death.

A curtain obscured his view from all but the bloody bits of gauze as they fell to the floor and the surgeons’ feet, covered with waterproof boots. Katherine’s heart monitor beat steadily. Shadows moved along the curtain, hovering over the girl’s body like vultures picking at carrion.

“Give me more suction.”

The vacuum began to hum, and the Yankauer tip started to whir in its high-pitched tone.

“Hemostat,” ordered the surgeon.

“Hemostat,” replied the nurse.

The steel instrument slapped into the gloved hand.

“BP is 90 over 50.”

The shadows along the curtain moved at a quicker pace.

“Okay, give her some TXA.”

“BP’s falling.”

“Get me some more O negative.”

The admiral hung on every word, every sound, and every movement.

James Cassatt appeared to pray, hunched over as he was, both hands together. Instead, he cracked his knuckles, binding time until he knew his daughter was out of danger. Sitting alone in his wetsuit, Cassatt looked at home on the Coast Guard ship. He felt helpless, a state in which he loathed. Others around him, the Morellos, Diaz, the crazy lady he shot in the head – all of them were cuffed to their beds or chairs. But they were responsive, and for the moment, they were alive.

James stood to stretch his legs, ensuring he was not a burden to the medical team. He palmed a scalpel from a nearby surgical tray and moved out of sight. Leaning against the wall, the admiral yawned and rubbed his tired eyes. Surveying the surroundings, he watched as medics and crew rushed by. An alarm blared from triage. Cassatt’s heart raced. He needed to know what had happened. Would his little girl be all right?

A frustrated voice called out for more O-negative blood. Another voice announced that there was none. Cassatt began to move toward the small OR. Then, a meek voice spoke up. The admiral spun toward the redhead. He thought Mrs. Morello had been through so much, yet she offered as if her life were on the line. She spoke again, her voice even more desperate.

“You’re what?!”

Medics moved about frantically. None had heard the woman call out. The admiral grabbed an ensign by the arm. “The lady said she’s O negative. Get a nurse over here.”

“Sir. You need to remove your hand from my – Arrggh!”

“I said, get a nurse over here. Now,” the admiral growled and tightened his grip.

“I’ve got her, James. Calm down!”

“As you say, Helena.”

“I’m Commander Helena Diamandis. We met earlier on the yacht.” The commander knelt beside Mrs. Morello, quickly taking her vitals. If Eva remembered her, she didn’t say. “Thank you,” said the dark-haired woman, pointing her fingers at the ensign. “I need to move her. Keys, please.”

“Commander –” The ensign shook his head.

“Keys. Now, boy!” roared the admiral. His stark blue eyes, similar to Kat’s, glared at the young ensign. The young man swallowed once, then quickly unlocked Eva’s cuffs.

Both Helena and James helped Eva to a gurney. They let the Morellos have a moment before the commander took over. Cassatt stood back, watching helplessly. “You have an extraordinary wife, Mr. Morello.” The admiral allowed Alex to see the palmed scalpel, making it known he had no qualms about killing the man then and there. “And you are a very fortunate man.”

James leaned against the wall again. His age seemed to catch up with him in a matter of seconds. His daughter was in good hands for the moment, but Cassatt knew from experience she was not out of the woods. Many hours would pass until he knew anything definite. James closed his eyes for the first time since he heard his daughter’s voice over the phone. He would rest now. Kat would need his help to survive the storm ahead.

Katherine Cassatt is our hero! She hacked the planet and for a worthy cause to boot. Wherever you are, Kat, we salute you! – Kathy Collman, Hackers Unite

Johns Hopkins Hospital

The tubes and IVs were gone, but Katherine remained in the hospital bed, though not of her own volition, of course. With her left hand squirming between her back and her hospital gown, she attempted to retie the knot that had gotten loose in the night. The nurses claimed she tossed and turned often during sleep due to bad dreams, but Katherine never remembered them.

Admiral James Cassatt stood by the window, absentmindedly running his fingers back and forth across the cracked seal. The window needed painting, he thought to himself. If he had stayed there another week, he might have done the chore out of sheer boredom. And to take his mind off things.

“Is there something wrong, Miss Cassatt?” asked Rebecca Van Hoult. The prosecutor sat across from the bed, her legs crossed. The pen in her hand tapped the notebook in her lap while she waited on the fidgeting woman. Van Hoult reached out to help when Cassatt called for her father.

“I can’t seem to get this damned – Dad?”

Katherine leaned forward. Her father reached behind her, blocking the prosecutor’s view. “Only a moment.” Admiral Cassatt tied the strings in a Carrick bend knot. “And there. Better?” Kat nodded.

“Now, Miss Cassatt. You are sure that the sex was consensual?”

“Is this necessary? My daughter is in pain,” exclaimed Cassatt.

“I won’t take much more of her time, Admiral.”

James eyed his daughter sternly for a moment but turned away. He thought of returning to his vigil at the window but left the room instead. Katherine pursed her lips and lay back in the bed. “I’m nearly 40 years old, and he still gets squeamish that his daughter has sex, but to answer your question, yes. All sexual activity between Mr. Morello, Mrs. Morello, and myself was consensual.”

“And the marks on your breasts?” Rebecca didn’t mince words, directing her pen toward Katherine’s chest. “I believe Mrs. Morello has similar marks.”

“Well –” Katherine recalled that day with painful clarity. Looking back, Kat knew she had asked for punishment to wound Alex. If Mr. Morello had been hurt by her actions, he never said so, and Eva became even more alien. Was Mrs. Morello a masochist, or was there something else to it? Kat never figured it out. “I did ask for the lashing, which was consensual.”

“Did you enjoy it?” asked Rebecca.

“No. I did not.”

“Did you ask him to stop?”

“No. I did not.”

Van Hoult tilted her head to the right. The left corner of her lip raised a touch. “Why didn’t you ask Mr. Morello to stop? Did you not feel safe to ask for a reprieve?”

“I could have stopped the canning at any moment,” responded Kat. Before Rebecca could fire off another query, Cassatt waved her off. She had interviewed enough people to know when someone was evading. “I needed to endure the full treatment to understand Eva – Mrs. Morello.”

“Did it work? Did you understand her better?”

“No, and what does this have to do with the case?”

Van Hoult leaned back in her seat. Her bright red lips spread into a smile, displaying her perfectly straight and white teeth. “You, of all people, should know the minor details matter most.” Rebecca took to her pad and pen, jotting a few notes, her lips silently voicing the words. She double-underlined the term Stockholm syndrome. “According to three separate psychiatric professionals, you suffered from Stockholm syndrome during your time with the Morellos. For my record, do you believe their assessment was correct?”

“Yes,” Katherine shot back. Her answer was quick, the tone jarring. Rebecca quickly rolled her tongue across her upper lip.

“Are you sure?”

“What do you want me to say?” exclaimed Kat. The brunette’s nostrils flared. She bundled and twisted the sheets between her fingers. “Do you want me to tell you it was all planned? That I went along with the Morellos? Oh, yes, Ms. Van Hoult, we schemed together for months, plotting to double-cross every arms dealer on the planet. We reveled in the careers, institutions, and families that would crumble at our hands.” Katherine smirked, releasing the blanket. She propped herself up on the pillow behind her, wincing. “If true, there goes your charge of kidnapping, extortion, and Eva slips through your fingers. She can’t be forced to testify against her husband even if she knows anything, so what will you do with her? I can’t imagine Alex cooperating if he thought his wife was in danger.”

Van Hoult held up a hand. “You made your point, Miss Cassatt.” Rebecca closed her notebook and put away her pen, then rose to leave. “I’m not sure I believe your story in its entirety, and if I had my way, I’d charge you as an accessory after the fact and obstruction of justice. It’s lucky for us both that juries don’t give a damn about opinion pieces, only proof.”

Kat chuckled incredulously at the apparent dig at her as a journalist. She thought of getting a shot at the prosecutor but refrained. “How is Mrs. Morello? Can you tell me?”

“I haven’t met with her yet, but I understand she’s been suffering from morning sickness.” Rebecca started out the door but stepped back in. “I hope you can move on from this incident, Miss Cassatt. If it’s any consolation, I doubt you will see either of them ever again.”

Katherine didn’t respond. Nor did she look in Van Hoult’s direction. As her eyes glazed over, the woman bundled the sheets between her fingers again. Rebecca smiled, assured that Cassatt would suffer from such knowledge.

“I’ll let your father know he can come back in.”

“Thank you,” Katherine said meekly. “And fetch a nurse, please? The pain is – its back.”

Van Hoult nearly laughed out loud at the woman’s melancholy but kept her professional composure and left to notify a nurse.

Kat Cassatt. She’s another Patty Hearst. She associated with the wrong crowd, the Morellos, and cried fowl to duck responsibility. Some call her a hero. I call her a terrorist. – Jerome H. Newhouse, Political analyst and commentator

[h3][/h3]

Staffhurst Wood

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Admiral James Cassatt eyed three targets, which hung on three different trees. Each paper shooting target contained four bullet holes, with two striking the head and two in the chest. He and his daughter had practiced with firearms in Staffhurst Wood, east of Surrey, for nearly a month.

James smiled and offered an approving sharp nod to his daughter. “Good work, girl. You’ve improved with the recoil but tend to veer a hair too much to the right.”

“I hit the head and chest, didn’t I?” Kat countered.

James ripped the targets down, nodding. “You hit a stable target that won’t fire back. Yes.” He laughed and placed tree more targets on the same trees. Relieving his daughter of her 9mm, James loaded another magazine containing 12 bullets. He ran right to left, firing at each tree.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

“Go take a look,” the Admiral smiled. Kate ran the 20 feet, inspecting each strike.

“A hole in almost the same position in each target.” Kat didn’t know if she should cheer or sneer. “Of course, you’re a fantastic shot. You were born in the navy.”

James laughed. “You need good aiming, stability, breath control, trigger control, and follow through.” He handed 9mm back to Katherine. “You’ve got most of the basics to defend yourself, but your grip is still off.” Stepping behind his daughter, James steadied her aim. “Fire.”

BAM!

“See? Your hand flinched a hair to the right as you fired. You can correct that, preferably by keeping your hand straight and steady throughout the shot, or you can adjust for it and move your hand a hair to the left. Try it again.”

Katherine readied the second shot, steadied her aim to the best of her ability, and squeezed the trigger.

BAM!

The Admiral sighed. “Move your hand to the left.” The father watched as his daughter readied herself for the next target. Kat aimed a little to the left of the target and fired.

BAM!

“I got it!” she cried.

“You did,” he said, patting her on the back. “Now, do it 60 more times.” He stepped back, smirking. Kat reloaded.

“I’m not going to run anymore.”

BAM!

“We’ll move in another week. I’m making arrangements.”

BAM!

“Thank you for that, but I can’t run for the rest of my life.”

BAM!

“You won’t. We won’t. I’ll figure something out, Kitten. Don’t worry.”

Katherine held the gun by her side, the barrel pointed down. “I’ve enjoyed our time together, and I wish we had talked earlier.”

James stepped closer to his daughter, placing his arms around her. He held her tight; her brunette locks tickled his chin. “It was my fault. After your mother died, I lost myself. I lost you.” The man paused for a moment. Darkness would move in within a couple of hours. “I can’t lose you too. Please, let me protect you.”

Katherine closed her eyes, holding her father so tight Kat thought she might crush him. “You will, Daddy, but I have a plan.”

The admiral formed a lecture about best-laid plans, but he backed off. “Whatever you need. Whoever you need, it’s yours.”

Katherine pulled away, retrieving the 9mm once again. She aimed and fired.

BAM!

“I’m going to get my life back.”

BAM!

“And then, I’m going to get Eva back.”

BAM!

UGLY AND DISGUSTING KATHERINE CASSATT IS A TERRORIST! SHE ILLEGALLY PUBLISHED A MOUNTAIN OF LIES ABOUT MANY FINE PEOPLE. IF I WERE PRESIDENT, SHE WOULD BE IN JAIL! THE DEMOCRATS AND THE RINOS ARE HOUSING HER IN FINE LUXURY HOTELS AT TAXPAYER EXPENSE. DISGUSTING! – DJT

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, Washington, DC

Arthur Williams let his knees bend while his arms hung naturally. With the putter in hand, he aligned the ball with the cup. The portable practice hole sat only six feet away. He had often made the hole on the green at Columbia Country Club in Chevy Chase, Md. Aligning the ball to the cup, he tapped it, watching it roll across the blue rug in the Oval Office. The ball went in.

“Mr. President, Senator Edward Peters to see you,” called the secretary. “Shall I send him in?”

Williams, a bulky man of sizeable stature, addressed the golf ball again. His coat lay across his seat at the resolute desk. Moderate perspiration stains threatened to appear under the arms of his light-blue, button-down shirt. “Send him in, Rose.” The northeastern door opened.

“Mr. President. You wanted to see me?” Peters watched as Williams made his putt, offering a polite smile of congratulations. “Very good, sir.”

“Thank you, Ed. I have a meeting with the Prime Minister of Japan tomorrow and hear he’s a beast on the greens.” The president eyed the couch left of his desk. “Have a seat.”

The senator took his seat, unbuttoning his blue jacket. Peters had a good idea why he had been called to the Oval Office and was prepared to play hardball if necessary. He knew Williams and even revered the man for his Texas charm, conservative ideals, and adherence to the Constitution. But the man was no idiot, and Edward often wondered if Williams’ grassroots colloquialisms were a smokescreen to catch opponents off guard.

Williams sat on the edge of his desk, folding his arms across his chest. He sighed like a disapproving parent. “Ed, you’ve been a good colleague to me and served this country well, but I’m afraid I will have to ask you to resign from your senate seat.”

“No, sir. I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Peters was adamant. “Caroline would be beside herself, and Eva would pay the price.” He leaned forward. “I did my duty, sir.”

“And then some,” the president interrupted. “If you had only done your duty, we could deal with this, but you just had to rob the till.” Williams walked briskly around his desk, picking up a folder. “Lutfi Alyan Basharat was not on our agreed list of exporters. You were supposed to deal with exporters from Turkey so we could aid the people of Ukraine. You were not to sell weapons to Hamas for crying out loud.”

“Basharat opened sources in Belarus and Moldavia. That’s two more exporters than we had.” Peters held up two fingers to illustrate the point. He never flinched.

“And you just had to help yourself?”

“Basharat would have been suspicious otherwise.”

“And that vacation home in Martha’s Vineyard? Did Basharat expect that, too?”

Peters rubbed his eyes. “An extravagance, yes, but Gloria’s family is up there. Caroline’s, too.”

Williams sat back in his chair as he thought. “Ed, I appreciate that you may have had noble intentions, but the fact of the matter is, you got your hand caught in the cookie jar. And not only is Putin after your head and mine, but BiBi is also crying bloody murder too.” Williams tossed the folder back on the desk. “I don’t enjoy this, but I am asking you to resign for the good of the party and the country.” Peters began to speak, but the president shook his head. “I can’t force you to resign, but I can and will endorse your opponent in the primaries. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them of your unwavering duty to God and country but that you’re a man who’s lost his way and can no longer be trusted.”

“Caroline would have kittens.”

“Resign with dignity, Ed, and I’ll write you the best letter of recommendation to any prospective employer you choose.”

Edward Peters sat on the couch, fumbling with a loose thread on the cushion. He thought of pulling it as a means of petty revenge. “That damned bitch,” he mumbled.

“How’s that?” asked Williams. The man stood up, towering over the senator.

“Cassatt.” Peters chuckled. “My brother-in-law ran an arms empire under our noses for years, then goes and kidnaps a fucking reporter. And a good reporter at that.”

“That’s what I hear.” The president moved closer to Peters, easing down. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know if I should pin a medal on her chest or toss her British ass in jail.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“You know as much as I do. She disappeared after leaving Johns Hopkins.” Williams quirked a brow. “Why?”

A dim smile curled on Peters’ lips. “What if you could meet her? What would you do, Mr. President? What would you do for the man who could give you the woman of the decade?”

Williams ran his long fingers through his thinning hair. With a heavy sigh, he stood and looked out the window onto the rose garden. “Irving Mitchel has spoken to me privately about leaving as head of the state department. I’ve already got some candidates, including your gal, Van Hoult, but I’ll need someone in the interim.”

“You’re offering me the State Department, Mr. President?” Peters rose, buttoning his jacket.

“Naturally, you’ll need to resign as Senator.”

“Naturally, sir.”

“And you’ll need to make a public statement about learning your lesson and that you’ll help clean up this mess – your mess.”

Peters smiled as he rose, offering a hand to the president. “I’ll pen my resignation this afternoon, sir. And may I say I look forward to working with you?” The two men shook on the deal, though Williams felt less pleased. He wanted a conversation with Cassatt but didn’t want to endanger the woman.

“Be careful with the reporter. I don’t want you luring the woman out just to get her shot or abducted.”

“Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be discreet. I understand at least 12 countries want her head on a silver platter.”

Williams nodded. “A couple of them, literally.”

Peters started out the door.

“One last thing, Ed. Do this discreetly but on the up and up. Don’t fuck it up.”

“I wouldn’t dare. Caroline would have my head if I did.”

The president chuckled. “Keep in touch, Ed.”

“Yes, Mr. President. You will hear from me soon.”

Katerine Cassatt is a traitor to democracy and a threat to the democratic way of life. If Cassatt had integrity, she would turn herself into the authorities. I hope she is apprehended before more lives are destroyed. – Senator Edward Peters (R)

Simrishamn, Sweden

“The rock formations look somewhat like a blooming onion, but not really. That’s the closest thing I could think of to describe it. I’m at Prästens Badkar, which translates to Priest’s Bathtub. It’s the only above-ground sand volcano in the world. It’s not a volcano as we know it, but a cone of sand created by water rising through the sand. Most sand boils, also called, form after an earthquake. Prästens Badkar is the result of an artesian aquifer erupting millions of years ago, and, according to legend, a priest used it as a bathtub. It’s a beautiful view with the deep blue color of the ocean and the black rocky beach, but I wouldn’t use it as a bath. The thing’s, well, too damned rocky. And jagged. Ouch.”

“I wish you were here to listen to the waves lap against the stone. The sound is so lulling that I could almost fall asleep. If I do, I’ll dream of you.”

Katherine placed her pen and pad away and admired the view she described. She had written travel logs before, but her current scribblings were created for an audience of one – Eva. The plan was that Cassatt’s father would send the letters to a friend in Washington, DC, and from there, they would travel as a package to the Hamptons. Eva was not guaranteed to receive the letters as numerous obstacles stood in the way. Her father warned his daughter of the dangers she placed herself in by sending the trifles, but Katherine was adamant.

“There you are,” her father said in greetings.

“Here I am,” responded Kat.

“Writing her again?” he asked, looking across the sea.

“Yep.” Katherine stood, steadying herself on the rocky terrain. A salty wind blew her honey-blonde hair across her face as she toyed with the cat necklace around her neck. She rarely removed it. “I’ve thought about the deal from Peters. I’ll meet him.”

“You know it’s a trap, Kat.” James loved his daughter more than anything on the earth. In the past few months, they had reforged their relationship. Old wounds seemed to heal when lives were at stake. But sometimes, she pushed him further than he liked.

“I know, but if there is a chance to see Eva again, if only for a few minutes …”

“If she loved you, she wouldn’t agree to this nonsense.”

Katerine knew her father was right. Eva would not attend the meeting set up by her uncle, but love was a fatal drug. “I’m going, Dad. With or without you.”

“I know.” The admiral let silence linger between the two for a moment. “How is your therapy going?”

“It’s going.” Kat bent down, picked up a piece of black stone, and tossed it into the ocean. “Coming out here helps me more than anything. It helps me forget that I was kidnaped, whipped, raped with a gun and that I lost my career.” The admiral traversed uneven terrain to meet his daughter. He held her near the mouth of the volcano.

“I love you, girl. Don’t ever forget that.”

Kat’s lips curled into a smile. She held onto her father as the wind died down. Neither said a word.

There are channels for a reason, and no one should take it upon themselves to circumvent the rules of law, no matter how noble the cause may be. – Representative Nancy Dance (D)

[h3][/h3]

Camp David, Catoctin Mountain Park, MD

President Williams stood upon a rocky bank overlooking a blissful lake. The first new snow of the year had fallen the night before, blanketing the area and dimming sound from all around. Secret service members dotted the landscape, spoiling the purity of the fallen snow.

Katherine stood by Williams’ side, wrapped in a navy wool coat and beret. She was still a shaken from the unexpected meeting. While Cassatt cast ire at Peters for his deception, she couldn’t fault the man entirely.

“There’s a photo of FDR and Churchill standing in this same spot,” Williams began. “That was back when they called the place Shangri La. It’s been said that Roosevelt and Churchill did a little fishing before meeting on that porch right over yonder.” Williams pointed to one of the many decks attached to Aspen Lodge. “And that is where they planned the D-Day Invasion.”

“That’s quite a story, Mr. President,” replied Katherine. The former reporter hadn’t fully recovered from the fact that she stood on the grounds of Camp David, a vital institution in American and world politics. Nor was the irony lost on Cassatt that her only visit to the historic retreat occurred after her reputation as a journalist came to a tumultuous end.

“The thing is, Katherine, history tends to become romanticized over the years. We see the photo ops, the parades, and the perfect chance shot, like the Marines raising the flag at Iwo Jima. We’re not privy to the smaller moments like two men sitting on a porch or you and I standing by the lake.”

“Are you blaming journalists for such romanticism?”

“In part, but my point is, history is made of moments, not sensational ballyhoo.”

Kat chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard an American president use the expression ballyhoo. I thought that only happened in the movies.”

“I think Hoover was the last to use it,” Williams joked.

Kat chuckled as she looked across the lake, noticing Peters walking from the lodge holding three cups. The steam from the cups looked enticing as Kat had grown tired of the cold. Rounding the lake, the new Secretary of State served the President and then Cassatt. “I didn’t know how you took your coffee, Katherine. I trust black is fine?”

“Gimme,” Kat begged, taking the hot Styrofoam cup, her breath clouding. She took a sip and smiled. “I usually take it as tea,” Cassatt joked.

Williams chuckled. “You damn British and your tea.”

“But the coffee is good.” She glanced at Peters as they made their way back to the lodge. “You said it was black. It’s a little sweet.”

“My apologies, Miss Cassatt. I may have added a lump.” The Secretary eyed Williams, allowing the President to ascend the steps to the fabled porch. The man stomped his boots, shaking excess snow.

“But getting back to my point about history. I know you were expecting to meet someone else today, and I apologize for the ruse, but there is one question I need an answer to. Why? Why did you release all that information? You had to have known what it would cost.”

Kat swallowed a healthy portion of coffee before cradling the cup between her gloved hands. “I didn’t release it. Not intentionally.” Williams folded his arms over his chest, giving Kat an unconvinced look. Peters mimicked his boss but added a condescending smirk.

“I did copy the information from Mr. Morello’s computer files as we went to look for Eva. She had been kidnapped, and neither of us had an advantage. I planned to use it as a Hail Mary, gambling that whoever t-took Eva was on Alex’s list.”

“But you did send it?” noted Williams.

“I – I threatened to send it, but –” Kat cleared her throat. “Excuse me, sir.” She cleared it again. “Sorry. Anyway, when I was shot, my body spasmed, and –” Kat took another sip of coffee to alleviate her dry throat.

“And your thumb hit send by muscle spasm or adrenaline alone? Is that your story?” asked the President.

Katherine nodded. “Yes. You see, you’re right about history not being ballyhoo. Often, it’s boring, and sometimes it’s an accident.” The woman started to cough, placing her cup on the wooden post.

“History is many things, but it’s never boring.” Williams eyed Cassatt with concern. “Are you okay, Katherine?”

“I think so. I might have a cold coming on?” Cassatt’s hands shook as she grabbed her cup. Her eyes widened. She gasped for breath and fell down the steps.

“Get Jack out here!” Williams yelled.

“We need to take care of you first, sir. “Peters rushed the President inside the lodge as the Secret Service rushed to Katherine’s aid.

“Ma’am? Do you need medical assistance?”

She nodded, gasping for air.

“Code Red on the southeast porch. Guest needs immediate medical assistance.” The sandy-haired secret serviceman looked for any obstructions to her throat or mouth. Kat pointed to the cup. Her face contorted, then fell still. A long, slow hiss emerged from Katherine’s lips as her eyes unfocused. The presidential physician ran to the scene, grabbing her hand to take a pulse. The man shook his head.

“I’m sorry. She’s dead.”

The secret serviceman gave a nod, speaking into his phone. “The President needs to be evacuated immediately. Search procedures are in effect. Detain anyone on the camp premises. We may have an assassination attempt.”

Our village was bombed last year in heavy fighting along the Gaza Strip. I lost my wife, son, and two grandchildren. I don’t know if Katherine Cassatt is a hero, but I now know the names of many evil men. I hope God sends them all to hell. – Amir Ali Habib, reporter for Al-Ayyam, a Palestinian newspaper

Kassandra Brant, Simrishamn, Sweden

“Fuck!”

Katherine abruptly awoke to unfamiliar surroundings. The bed was soft. Her eyes squinted at the sunlight that bounced off the all-white room. Sensible shoes marched across hardwood floors. “I see you are awake.”

Cassatt looked toward the creaky but firm voice. A plump woman with white hair and a face resembling tree bark stood beside the bed. She wore a royal blue dress and held a steaming cup of early grey. The woman placed the tea on the nightstand.

“Who are you?” Kat asked.

“Granville. An old friend of your father’s, and let’s leave it at that,” the woman said in a thick British accent.

The former journalist scooted up in bed and reached for the tea. “The last thing I remember –” Kat’s eyes burst wide. “Oh, shit. Is the President okay?”

The woman nodded. “Unlike you.” She held up a newspaper with Cassatt’s image on the front. Kat ripped it out of her hands.

“I’m dead?”

“You’re dead, poisoned in an assassination attempt gone wrong or right. No one has made up their minds about that.” Granville picked up several papers off the nightstand. “Your name is Kassandra Brant. I warned against using another K name, but your father said you would insist.” The woman handed the documents to Kat. “Here is your birth certificate, driver’s license, national identity card, passport, personal identity number, and parents’ death certificates.” The white-haired woman motioned to a secretary’s desk in the corner. “You’ll find the deed to the house, car, a healthy bank book, and other essential documents in the top drawer. Do you have any questions?”

“Do I have any –” Kat sat in the bed, dumbfounded. “Wait?” She looked up to the older woman. “My parents’ death certificates?”

“This was your father’s doing. You’re in Simrishamn, Sweden. James said you liked it.”

“I do.” Katherine jumped out of bed but nearly fell to the floor. “What the – I feel so weak. Why?” Noticing she was dressed only in a white cotton nightgown and undies, Kat shuffled to the closet. “I have clothes, right?”

“You do.” The older woman followed Kat to her closet. “The house is cozy but small. It’s big enough for you, so don’t get any ideas about partners. And there is one more important matter. As to your weakness …” Granville’s voice trailed off.

“Yes? Have I been out for a while?” asked Kat, riffling through her clothes closet. “None of these are mine!”

“You’ve been in a coma for six months. The concoction used to sedate you was off by a hair. We didn’t know if you would ever wake up. And the people you knew, your editor, the Morellos, your father. They’ve moved on.”

“My father thinks I’m dead? He thinks he murdered me?”

Granville silently nodded.

Kat was beside herself with rage. “Where is he? I need to speak to him.”

Granville shook her head. “You can’t.”

“I don’t care about my protection. I want to see my dad!”

“He’s dead.”

Katherine fell on the side of the bed. She slid down to the flow. Granville. Her bones creaking, she knelt beside the woman. “James and I have been friends for many years, and I desperately wanted to tell him where you were. Before he placed this ridiculous plan into motion, he made me promise never to tell him your location. He knew he’d run to you and place you in danger.”

Katherine sat on the hardwood floor, her back to the bed. Tears welled above her cheeks. “Eva?”

“Alive, but beyond that, we don’t know much. We do keep tabs on her through the Vice President.”

Kat looked up. “I beg your pardon?”

“Vice President Peters. Arthur’s Veep resigned before reelection, and Edward, the hero who saved a president, was a natural replacement.” Granville chuckled. “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

Kat nodded slowly. “I have to get to her.”

“Out of the question,” Granville huffed and stood, grunting as she did. “If anyone discovers you are alive, there will be hell to pay. The people you exposed are monsters. If anyone knew you were alive, they would not hesitate to torture your friends – your editor, and yes, Eva and her child too.”

Katherine hung her head, running her fingers through her honey-blonde hair. “You’ve made your point.”

Granville started for the door, her sensible shoes clopping on the hardwood floor. “You’ve been given a second chance at great cost. Don’t fuck it up.” The older woman slammed the door as she marched out.

Kat stood and ambled toward the chest of drawers. She looked through them, but none of the clothes were hers, just as the closet. On the top of the chest of drawers sat a jewelry box. Opening it, Katherine found one item—a silver necklace with a cute cathead and little bell. There was no note, but she knew her father saved it for her, just as he saved the K in her new name.

“Thank you, Daddy.” She held the necklace to the light and put it around her neck.

“I will find you, Eva. I’ll find you and –” Kassandra Brant closed the lid to the jewelry box and stepped into her closet to dress for the day. She had much to do.

HCG Trireme

Johns Hopkins Hospital

Staffhurst Wood

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW, Washington, DC

Simrishamn, Sweden

Camp David, Catoctin Mountain Park, MD

Kassandra Brant, Simrishamn, Sweden

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