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Sexpionage III
- Thread starter Fossy
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Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Thank you my friend, I surely will ...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Hey guys and girls, Grace Miller here from Sexpionage. So here we are. I have managed to get the so called evidence that both my Masters have requested, and just when we all wanted to know what happens next, Fossy decides to take a long weekend break!
“I really need this,” he keeps saying to us when we’re on the Sexpionage set, but I just laugh and keep on telling him that it’s the Sexpionage girls who have to do all the hard work! But that didn’t stop him from taking off and so now we’re all on tenterhooks until Tuesday!
But I didn’t want you to be left with nothing to entertain you, and so I said to Wardrobe and the Production Crew, “Do we still have access to the red dress I wore to the Fall Ball at the White House?”
And y’know what, we did! So, I offered to entertain you while Fossy gets his R&R, by performing a slow and sensual striptease.
I hope you enjoy, don’t forget to make sure that you’re all caught up and we’ll see you back here on Tuesday when ‘New Beginnings’ continues with Part III, ‘Agent Provocateur’ …
******
"I love this dress, really, I do, and the way it fits my body, with the V-cut showing my cleavage and all … so sexy and sooooo sensual …"
"It takes only a quick pull on two straps and suddenly you get to see that I’m not wearing a bra. It feels so erotic to feel so exposed, the dress only covering only my bottom half. I hope you like it too?"
"What? We’re still not showing enough skin? You guys … okay let me pull the dress-skirt up a little and unfasten the back. There, is that any better? Yes, but you want to see even more? Wow, guys, you’re more demanding than the Sexpionage Producers!"
"Okay, so I couldn’t go without underwear altogether, but you’ve got to admit that these panties are pretty hot in themselves, never mind when I wear them under a dress like this one. GUYS!!! Really? You want those off too?"
"One of the camera crew is pulling faces at me. Stop. It. He’s making me laugh which is not the effect we’re looking for here team! The readers want to be turned on not made to laugh. So. Stop. It."
"Ta, daaaaaaa! And that’s everything off now! Panties, dress, shoes ... all for you."
And that’s it, folks. I hope you enjoyed my little show. I’m going for a nice warm cup of tea!
Have a great weekend everyone, see you on Tuesday
Love from Grace xxx
“I really need this,” he keeps saying to us when we’re on the Sexpionage set, but I just laugh and keep on telling him that it’s the Sexpionage girls who have to do all the hard work! But that didn’t stop him from taking off and so now we’re all on tenterhooks until Tuesday!
But I didn’t want you to be left with nothing to entertain you, and so I said to Wardrobe and the Production Crew, “Do we still have access to the red dress I wore to the Fall Ball at the White House?”
And y’know what, we did! So, I offered to entertain you while Fossy gets his R&R, by performing a slow and sensual striptease.
I hope you enjoy, don’t forget to make sure that you’re all caught up and we’ll see you back here on Tuesday when ‘New Beginnings’ continues with Part III, ‘Agent Provocateur’ …
******
"I love this dress, really, I do, and the way it fits my body, with the V-cut showing my cleavage and all … so sexy and sooooo sensual …"
"It takes only a quick pull on two straps and suddenly you get to see that I’m not wearing a bra. It feels so erotic to feel so exposed, the dress only covering only my bottom half. I hope you like it too?"
"What? We’re still not showing enough skin? You guys … okay let me pull the dress-skirt up a little and unfasten the back. There, is that any better? Yes, but you want to see even more? Wow, guys, you’re more demanding than the Sexpionage Producers!"
"Okay, so I couldn’t go without underwear altogether, but you’ve got to admit that these panties are pretty hot in themselves, never mind when I wear them under a dress like this one. GUYS!!! Really? You want those off too?"
"One of the camera crew is pulling faces at me. Stop. It. He’s making me laugh which is not the effect we’re looking for here team! The readers want to be turned on not made to laugh. So. Stop. It."
"Ta, daaaaaaa! And that’s everything off now! Panties, dress, shoes ... all for you."
And that’s it, folks. I hope you enjoyed my little show. I’m going for a nice warm cup of tea!
Have a great weekend everyone, see you on Tuesday
Love from Grace xxx
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
So, last week we saw Special Agent Grace Miller being forced to allow the US Secretary of State sodomise her so that she could gain access to his office and secure the so-called evidence that would keep both Russian and British masters happy, whilst also keeping her family safe. She is now returning to the UK and whatever awaits her there …
Agent Provocateur (1)
On a British Airways flight from Washington Dulles International Airport to Heathrow London
Grace ѕhuddеrеd wіth аntісіраtіоn. Shе fеlt Ekaterina’s finger begin to gently сіrсlе thе tightly сlеnсhеd knоt оf flеѕh, alternatively рrоbіng and саrеѕѕіng. Her pussy was soaking wet аnd she could feel thе аррrоасhіng climax lіkе a vast vоrtеx drаwіng her in. It wаѕ unbearable, her mіnd and bоdу felt ѕuѕреndеd оn the brеаthlеѕѕ еdgе оf a rеlеаѕе of frightening intensity. Thе long finger сіrсlеd аgаіn, then bеgаn tо рrеѕѕ hоmе, worming іtѕ way thrоugh thе soft pliant lips. Grace'ѕ whоlе bоdу wеnt rigid, hеld іn a titanic struggle tо wіthѕtаnd thе invasion that ѕhе knеw wоuld consume hеr. Sensing thе end, Kat's intrusive fіngеrѕ рісkеd uр thе pace, thruѕtіng rаріdlу into the dripping tunnle between her lover’s thighs.
Aѕ the climax bеgаn to tаkе hоld, Grace lоѕt соntrоl, hеr muѕсlеѕ clamped down upon thе invading digits grірріng thеm fоr one еtеrnаl ѕесоnd, before a different fіngеr crept between the cheeks of the younger girl’s firm ass сhееkѕ, pushed раѕt thе ring of muscle аnd sank іntо the opened раѕѕаgе bеуоnd.
Grace screamed аѕ the tidal wave оf pleasure crashed over her, a torrent оf fluіd роurеd from her pussy, ѕоаkіng Kat аnd ѕрlаѕhіng tо thе floor bеnеаth her. Shaking wіth еmоtіоn Grace bеgаn tо ѕоb unсоntrоllаblу.
“Kat, ohhhhhh Kat … I love you!” bаbblіng frаntісly, words rеndеrеd incomprehensible bу the intensity of the orgasm.
Ekaterina reached оut, lіfted Grace’s chin аnd lооked dоwn аt hеr with a wry grin. "Here, tаѕtе."
The older girl hеld оut hеr fіngеrѕ, ѕtіll glіѕtеnіng with moisture. Grace stared back through wide, glazed eyes, as her lover repeated the words. “Taste yourself on my fingers.”
Grace ореnеd hеr mоuth, and for a mоmеnt Kat teased her, tracing the outline оf hеr lips, thеn the fіngеrѕ delved іnѕіdе аnd Grace сlоѕеd hеr lірѕ around them. The older blonde gеntlу stroked hеr lover’s bасk, раtіеntlу waiting for Grace tо resurface. Releasing the fingers from her oral grip the younger girl trried to ѕtаnd, but hеr lеgѕ wouldn't support hеr аnd she sagged back down on the soft bed.
With both girls now satiated Ekaterina slid sideways and collapsed so that they could lay side by side on the bed, catching their breath, before they both started laughing.
“Fuck Grace,” Kat said, gasping, “I made you cum harder.”
“I made you cum more,” Grace teased.
“So, who won?” The blonde girl asked.
“I have no fucking idea,” The Special Agent said with a sigh. “Let’s just call it a draw.”
“I hate not winning!” Ekaterina cried, pounding her fists playfully on the bed.
“A draw means we both won, dummy,” Grace giggled. “Stop being a sore winner.”
Kat repositioned herself so she was face to face with her lover, allowing her to pull Grace close so that she could lean in and kiss the younger girl’s forehead.
“Have I told you lately how much I hate you, Grace Miller?”
“The feeling is entirely mutual,” the reply was said with equal sarcasm.
“You know that you are one of the bravest and greatest girls that I could ever imagine Ekaterina Novikova,” Grace’s big, brown eyes scanned her friend’s face.
“You really like me that much?” Kat questioned.
“Like you? I love you, Ekaterina Novikova,” came the reply.
Ekaterina sighed and looked away.
“Kat?” Grace asked.
Silence.
“Ekaterina?” she asked again. Then the younger girl looked across towards her naked lover and sat up, her face an expression of shock and horror. Kat was just lying there, a gaping slash across her throat. Wide eyes stared up from her body, though they weren’t actually eyes, just bloody holes in her skull, empty and soulless. And when she spoke, her voice was the pure embodiment of hate and malice.
“How could you ever truly love someone like me?” dead-Kat rasped.
“What’s happ …” Grace began before her words were cut short.
“Please be sure to return your seat and tray table to their upright position,” dead-Kat said in a vague kind staccato manner, and that’s when Grace woke up and looked sleepily at the Stewardess who was gently shaking her.
“Miss, I need you to return your tray table and seat to their upright position.”
“Oh yes, of course sorry.”
Grace could not stop dreaming about Kat … she didn’t want to. She still missed her friend and lover so very much.
And now, as the plane began its descent into London Heathrow, once she had handed over the ‘evidence’ and been debriefed, she needed to go and see Major Jason Underhill … there was something important that the two of them needed to discuss.
To Be Continued …
Agent Provocateur (1)
On a British Airways flight from Washington Dulles International Airport to Heathrow London
Grace ѕhuddеrеd wіth аntісіраtіоn. Shе fеlt Ekaterina’s finger begin to gently сіrсlе thе tightly сlеnсhеd knоt оf flеѕh, alternatively рrоbіng and саrеѕѕіng. Her pussy was soaking wet аnd she could feel thе аррrоасhіng climax lіkе a vast vоrtеx drаwіng her in. It wаѕ unbearable, her mіnd and bоdу felt ѕuѕреndеd оn the brеаthlеѕѕ еdgе оf a rеlеаѕе of frightening intensity. Thе long finger сіrсlеd аgаіn, then bеgаn tо рrеѕѕ hоmе, worming іtѕ way thrоugh thе soft pliant lips. Grace'ѕ whоlе bоdу wеnt rigid, hеld іn a titanic struggle tо wіthѕtаnd thе invasion that ѕhе knеw wоuld consume hеr. Sensing thе end, Kat's intrusive fіngеrѕ рісkеd uр thе pace, thruѕtіng rаріdlу into the dripping tunnle between her lover’s thighs.
Aѕ the climax bеgаn to tаkе hоld, Grace lоѕt соntrоl, hеr muѕсlеѕ clamped down upon thе invading digits grірріng thеm fоr one еtеrnаl ѕесоnd, before a different fіngеr crept between the cheeks of the younger girl’s firm ass сhееkѕ, pushed раѕt thе ring of muscle аnd sank іntо the opened раѕѕаgе bеуоnd.
Grace screamed аѕ the tidal wave оf pleasure crashed over her, a torrent оf fluіd роurеd from her pussy, ѕоаkіng Kat аnd ѕрlаѕhіng tо thе floor bеnеаth her. Shaking wіth еmоtіоn Grace bеgаn tо ѕоb unсоntrоllаblу.
“Kat, ohhhhhh Kat … I love you!” bаbblіng frаntісly, words rеndеrеd incomprehensible bу the intensity of the orgasm.
Ekaterina reached оut, lіfted Grace’s chin аnd lооked dоwn аt hеr with a wry grin. "Here, tаѕtе."
The older girl hеld оut hеr fіngеrѕ, ѕtіll glіѕtеnіng with moisture. Grace stared back through wide, glazed eyes, as her lover repeated the words. “Taste yourself on my fingers.”
Grace ореnеd hеr mоuth, and for a mоmеnt Kat teased her, tracing the outline оf hеr lips, thеn the fіngеrѕ delved іnѕіdе аnd Grace сlоѕеd hеr lірѕ around them. The older blonde gеntlу stroked hеr lover’s bасk, раtіеntlу waiting for Grace tо resurface. Releasing the fingers from her oral grip the younger girl trried to ѕtаnd, but hеr lеgѕ wouldn't support hеr аnd she sagged back down on the soft bed.
With both girls now satiated Ekaterina slid sideways and collapsed so that they could lay side by side on the bed, catching their breath, before they both started laughing.
“Fuck Grace,” Kat said, gasping, “I made you cum harder.”
“I made you cum more,” Grace teased.
“So, who won?” The blonde girl asked.
“I have no fucking idea,” The Special Agent said with a sigh. “Let’s just call it a draw.”
“I hate not winning!” Ekaterina cried, pounding her fists playfully on the bed.
“A draw means we both won, dummy,” Grace giggled. “Stop being a sore winner.”
Kat repositioned herself so she was face to face with her lover, allowing her to pull Grace close so that she could lean in and kiss the younger girl’s forehead.
“Have I told you lately how much I hate you, Grace Miller?”
“The feeling is entirely mutual,” the reply was said with equal sarcasm.
“You know that you are one of the bravest and greatest girls that I could ever imagine Ekaterina Novikova,” Grace’s big, brown eyes scanned her friend’s face.
“You really like me that much?” Kat questioned.
“Like you? I love you, Ekaterina Novikova,” came the reply.
Ekaterina sighed and looked away.
“Kat?” Grace asked.
Silence.
“Ekaterina?” she asked again. Then the younger girl looked across towards her naked lover and sat up, her face an expression of shock and horror. Kat was just lying there, a gaping slash across her throat. Wide eyes stared up from her body, though they weren’t actually eyes, just bloody holes in her skull, empty and soulless. And when she spoke, her voice was the pure embodiment of hate and malice.
“How could you ever truly love someone like me?” dead-Kat rasped.
“What’s happ …” Grace began before her words were cut short.
“Please be sure to return your seat and tray table to their upright position,” dead-Kat said in a vague kind staccato manner, and that’s when Grace woke up and looked sleepily at the Stewardess who was gently shaking her.
“Miss, I need you to return your tray table and seat to their upright position.”
“Oh yes, of course sorry.”
Grace could not stop dreaming about Kat … she didn’t want to. She still missed her friend and lover so very much.
And now, as the plane began its descent into London Heathrow, once she had handed over the ‘evidence’ and been debriefed, she needed to go and see Major Jason Underhill … there was something important that the two of them needed to discuss.
To Be Continued …
)
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Agent Provocateur (2)
Barn Owl Cottage, on the edge of the New Forest, Hampshire, England.
The previous visit Grace Miller had made to Barn Owl Cottage just a couple of months ago, had been to meet with her late and still very lamented friend and lover, Ekaterina Novikova. Now here she was again, only this time Kat was not here to greet her.
A lump thick with emotion rose up from Grace’s stomach and fought to see the light of day, but she forced the nausea to subside and rang the doorbell.
It seemed to take an age for her to sense any kind of movement on the other side, until finally the key turned and the thick wooden door opened.
“Jason”
The Major simply stared. His face was unshaven his hair unkempt and the white shirt, hanging loose outside his jeans, was dishevelled.
He continued just to gape for what seemed like an age and then Grace was completely taken by surprise when the crumpled man facing her threw out his arms and hugged her tightly. Jason was obviously still very emotional, so she hugged him back, it was so very comforting for them both.
Finally, the Major stepped back, and it was like he was seeing the girl on his doorstep for the first time.
"Grace, you look great!"
Wiping a tear from her eye, Grace forced a smile. "Thanks. You're looking pretty … erm creased … yourself Jason,” Special Agent Miller forced a smile. Taking her hand, Jase led her into the house.
“No Buddy?” She asked.
“He’s with Steph and the kids. To be honest they’ve been looking after him a lot recently.”
Grace nodded as they made their way into the living room, and she sat, somewhat tentatively, as Jason showed her to the chair that had been Kat’s favourite. Jase took a place on the couch across from her, and for a short while neither of them spoke, but yet the moment didn’t seem awkward. It was a good time for memories.
Finally, the silence was broken. "Grace, it’s great to see you, really, thank you so much for stopping by."
The open plan kitchen was next to the living room, and Grace watched as Jason got up from the sofa, headed to the counter upon which several bottles of wine were sitting, and poured two glasses.
“Thanks Jase,” Grace smiled as she took one of the glasses from him.
“To Kat …” he said, but as he raised his glass the tough Special Services Major began to choke as he attempted to manfully hold the tears back. Grace moved across to join him on the settee.
“Bastards,” he spat, “… I want to kill them all. Devonshire, those fucking Russians, but especially Devonshire, and …” he pulled away from Grace and cocked his head. “Was there really American involvement? Why did so many people want my Kat dead …” Saying the words ‘my Kat dead’ caused Jason to choke again, but he soon recomposed himself.
Grace set her wine down and looked across at the Major.
“Jason,” she said earnestly, “Kat didn’t deserve to die. She was a beautiful person who should have been allowed to live like she so desperately wanted, here, with you and Buddy and the kids. But …”
“But those cunts took her life away from me … sorry Grace.” Jason apologised his extreme language, but Grace just smiled, and nodded.
“She loved you so much Jason …” Another short period of quietness ensued, during which Grace remembered her friend, lover and former colleague. Seeing Kat naked, in her mind’s eye, on the large double bed in one of the spare rooms, only a few yards away from where they now sat was heart-wrenching for the Special Agent.
“Oh Kat,” she whispered, and then immediately looked up to see if Jason had heard her, but he was lost in his own thoughts, and so Grace let her fantasy roam a little wilder … Kat in cuffs, secured to the bed-head with Grace’s tongue buried between her scarred thighs.
Her scars … so awful, yet so beautiful as well. Each welt and damaged length of tissue was a reminder of an awful time. But Kat had embraced those wounds and made it so that the remnants of her torture actually enhanced her beauty rather than detracted from it. Grace missed Ekaterina so much …
“I will kill them …” Jase spoke quietly without looking up, and then added, “… every last one of the miserable bastards.” His tone was menacing.
“Jason,” Grace said his name softly, and he looked up at her.
“There was no American involvement.”
“What? Then why …?”
“It’s a Russian ploy to put the US and Britain at loggerheads, so that they can then take advantage and launch a campaign of cyber warfare.”
“What the fuck Grace? So why did Kat have to die?”
Grace sighed and took a deep breath. “Andreytov from the SVR wanted Ekaterina dead to give the Russians their revenge against a girl they saw as a traitor, and Devonshire wanted her gone because he hated her, like he hates me now. We know too much for him ever to be comfortable …”
“So why do you stay working for them?”
Special Agent Miller paused and then opened her mouth intending to tell him all about her Double Agent status, but instead, said simply, “That’s a story for another time Jase.”
But Jason wasn’t really focused on his visitor, he found it difficult to focus on anything.
“Do you really want to kill Devonshire and Andreytov?” Grace questioned.
Now Jason looked at her, his eyes seeking out hers and not letting go. He spoke in a steady, deliberate tone, “I have never wanted anything so badly before in my entire life.”
Grace let a thin smile break out on her face and then said with equal deliberation, “That’s why I’m here Jason, I have a plan.”
To Be Continued …
Barn Owl Cottage, on the edge of the New Forest, Hampshire, England.
The previous visit Grace Miller had made to Barn Owl Cottage just a couple of months ago, had been to meet with her late and still very lamented friend and lover, Ekaterina Novikova. Now here she was again, only this time Kat was not here to greet her.
A lump thick with emotion rose up from Grace’s stomach and fought to see the light of day, but she forced the nausea to subside and rang the doorbell.
It seemed to take an age for her to sense any kind of movement on the other side, until finally the key turned and the thick wooden door opened.
“Jason”
The Major simply stared. His face was unshaven his hair unkempt and the white shirt, hanging loose outside his jeans, was dishevelled.
He continued just to gape for what seemed like an age and then Grace was completely taken by surprise when the crumpled man facing her threw out his arms and hugged her tightly. Jason was obviously still very emotional, so she hugged him back, it was so very comforting for them both.
Finally, the Major stepped back, and it was like he was seeing the girl on his doorstep for the first time.
"Grace, you look great!"
Wiping a tear from her eye, Grace forced a smile. "Thanks. You're looking pretty … erm creased … yourself Jason,” Special Agent Miller forced a smile. Taking her hand, Jase led her into the house.
“No Buddy?” She asked.
“He’s with Steph and the kids. To be honest they’ve been looking after him a lot recently.”
Grace nodded as they made their way into the living room, and she sat, somewhat tentatively, as Jason showed her to the chair that had been Kat’s favourite. Jase took a place on the couch across from her, and for a short while neither of them spoke, but yet the moment didn’t seem awkward. It was a good time for memories.
Finally, the silence was broken. "Grace, it’s great to see you, really, thank you so much for stopping by."
The open plan kitchen was next to the living room, and Grace watched as Jason got up from the sofa, headed to the counter upon which several bottles of wine were sitting, and poured two glasses.
“Thanks Jase,” Grace smiled as she took one of the glasses from him.
“To Kat …” he said, but as he raised his glass the tough Special Services Major began to choke as he attempted to manfully hold the tears back. Grace moved across to join him on the settee.
“Bastards,” he spat, “… I want to kill them all. Devonshire, those fucking Russians, but especially Devonshire, and …” he pulled away from Grace and cocked his head. “Was there really American involvement? Why did so many people want my Kat dead …” Saying the words ‘my Kat dead’ caused Jason to choke again, but he soon recomposed himself.
Grace set her wine down and looked across at the Major.
“Jason,” she said earnestly, “Kat didn’t deserve to die. She was a beautiful person who should have been allowed to live like she so desperately wanted, here, with you and Buddy and the kids. But …”
“But those cunts took her life away from me … sorry Grace.” Jason apologised his extreme language, but Grace just smiled, and nodded.
“She loved you so much Jason …” Another short period of quietness ensued, during which Grace remembered her friend, lover and former colleague. Seeing Kat naked, in her mind’s eye, on the large double bed in one of the spare rooms, only a few yards away from where they now sat was heart-wrenching for the Special Agent.
“Oh Kat,” she whispered, and then immediately looked up to see if Jason had heard her, but he was lost in his own thoughts, and so Grace let her fantasy roam a little wilder … Kat in cuffs, secured to the bed-head with Grace’s tongue buried between her scarred thighs.
Her scars … so awful, yet so beautiful as well. Each welt and damaged length of tissue was a reminder of an awful time. But Kat had embraced those wounds and made it so that the remnants of her torture actually enhanced her beauty rather than detracted from it. Grace missed Ekaterina so much …
“I will kill them …” Jase spoke quietly without looking up, and then added, “… every last one of the miserable bastards.” His tone was menacing.
“Jason,” Grace said his name softly, and he looked up at her.
“There was no American involvement.”
“What? Then why …?”
“It’s a Russian ploy to put the US and Britain at loggerheads, so that they can then take advantage and launch a campaign of cyber warfare.”
“What the fuck Grace? So why did Kat have to die?”
Grace sighed and took a deep breath. “Andreytov from the SVR wanted Ekaterina dead to give the Russians their revenge against a girl they saw as a traitor, and Devonshire wanted her gone because he hated her, like he hates me now. We know too much for him ever to be comfortable …”
“So why do you stay working for them?”
Special Agent Miller paused and then opened her mouth intending to tell him all about her Double Agent status, but instead, said simply, “That’s a story for another time Jase.”
But Jason wasn’t really focused on his visitor, he found it difficult to focus on anything.
“Do you really want to kill Devonshire and Andreytov?” Grace questioned.
Now Jason looked at her, his eyes seeking out hers and not letting go. He spoke in a steady, deliberate tone, “I have never wanted anything so badly before in my entire life.”
Grace let a thin smile break out on her face and then said with equal deliberation, “That’s why I’m here Jason, I have a plan.”
To Be Continued …
Which can only mean that Fossy has a plan. Will it work? Or will it be a shambles and cause Grace more pain and suffering, as so many of the best laid plans in this series seem to do for the protagonists we all identify with and cheer on? Sit tight readers, As the saying goes (Yogi Berra, I think) “it ain’t over till it’s over!”
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Agent Provocateur (3)
Sanctum Boutique Hotel, Soho, London
What was it about being the Head of MI6? Did it say in the job specification- ‘Must be kinky to the point of perversion’?
Roger Moore had liked to dominate, and Kat had become his source of satisfaction. However, Marcus Devonshire was not like that at all. He liked to be dominated. Made to beg, tied up, humiliated …
Grace Miller had sensed this. Even though Devonshire had visited Ekaterina once and subjected her to sex as his slave, that was simply so he could subjugate her in preparation for handing her over to the SVR.
“I know you hate me Sir,” Grace had said to Devonshire when she managed to get a moment or two alone after the de-brief, “… but I need this job, spying is all I can do. Please let’s bury the hatchet and start over …”
Marcus Devonshire had looked at her initially with suspicion, but Special Agent Miller’s exceptional feminine charms compounded by her large brown eyes oozing sincerity, convinced him that she might just be genuine.
“I’ll do anything to make you see that … Sir.”
Devonshire should have known that Grace was hamming this up, going over the top, but he didn’t see it at all. Instead, he let his groin do the thinking.
“Anything?”
“Anything at all … Marcus, Sir.”
“I have certain predilections Miller, that often involve chains, and dildos and extreme sex …”
Grace swallowed hard, before replying. “I will let you do anything you wish to me, Sir.”
Upon hearing that the Head of MI6 chuckled. “No Grace, it’s me that wishes to suffer …”
Inwardly Grace was laughing harder than she had ever laughed before.
It had to be done in Soho. The same area. The same outcome …
*******
Marcus Devonshire was squealing like a stuck pig, his dirty underwear shoved into his mouth like a crude gag, his wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts with rope restraints. Grace Miller rode him like she would a wild stallion, her hand on his expansive chest, his skin slick with sweat. She leaned back and reached behind her bucking body, grabbing his balls and yanking them forcefully as she continued to thrust her pelvis onto his hard cock.
His muffled cries excited her. Grace could feel the thrill of the hold she had over him, the power she wielded as she dominated this controlling man making her head buzz with an intoxicating sensation of superiority. Out in the world, Devonshire was powerful. Driven, intelligent, dangerous … but here, he was nothing. An ant she could crush beneath her boot heel if she so desired.
She could feel his rock-hard manhood sunk deep between her thighs, strong and unyielding, hitting her just where she wanted and sending ripples of pleasure snaking along her back and into her belly. She clenched herself around him, clamping down tightly. He hated condoms, he told her so, and so Grace made sure not to use one and now he could properly feel the sensation she was giving him.
He was getting close, Grace knew. Her practiced eyes could see how his breathing was quickening and how his eyes were starting to roll into the back of his head. She sped up her pace. It wouldn’t be long now. He was almost there. Marcus Devonshire arched his back. She slammed down on top of him, forcing him deeper and squeezing his testicles firmly as she did so. He jerked at the pain, crying out as he exploded, the warm sensation of his release filling her body, and she smiled.
Men were never weaker than when they’d just cum, and she loved making this man weak. She stayed on top of him for longer than was necessary, clenching his spent erection with her pussy and pumping his testicles with her hand like one would a stress ball, milking him for all he was worth.
Devonshire squirmed like a fish out of water beneath her, struggling to rip free of his restraints as Grace inflicted wave after wave of pleasure mixed with a harsh pain, upon him. Finally, she showed him mercy, releasing her hold on his genitals and sliding off. He practically deflated as she did so.
She pulled his boxers out of his mouth, and he gasped for air like a drowning man. The Special Agent laughed at his breathlessness and leaned down, showering kisses on his neck while pinching one of his nipples between her fingers and tweaking hard, causing him to suck in air between his teeth.
“Holy fuck,” the man grunted, still trying to catch his breath. “That was something else Miller. Fuck me …”
“Sorry Sir? I thought I just had,” Grace laughed at her own witty retort. She kissed his chest and reached over, untying the rope that had bound him. Once his hands were freed, she grasped between his legs and pulled the dildo she’d inserted into him at the start of their session, from his ass.
Devonshire sighed in relief as Grace pulled it out, making him gag a little when she made him clean it with his mouth, being sure to shove it deep into his throat so he would choke on the thick, plastic, secretion coated length.
“Good boy,” she said when he was finished, smiling.
With a self-satisfied smirk Devonshire gently moved her aside and untied his ankles, getting up from the bed. He stretched, his strong muscles bulging on his husky frame. He was well built, his slightly tanned skin glistening with sweat in the soft light of the room. When he turned the Special Agent looked at his ass. It wasn’t the best pair of buttocks she’d ever seen, and it was covered in hair, but the mental image of how she’d violated it earlier was playing out in her mind, and giving her more pleasure than the sight of it ever could.
Just then there was a knock on the room door.
To Be Continued …
Sanctum Boutique Hotel, Soho, London
What was it about being the Head of MI6? Did it say in the job specification- ‘Must be kinky to the point of perversion’?
Roger Moore had liked to dominate, and Kat had become his source of satisfaction. However, Marcus Devonshire was not like that at all. He liked to be dominated. Made to beg, tied up, humiliated …
Grace Miller had sensed this. Even though Devonshire had visited Ekaterina once and subjected her to sex as his slave, that was simply so he could subjugate her in preparation for handing her over to the SVR.
“I know you hate me Sir,” Grace had said to Devonshire when she managed to get a moment or two alone after the de-brief, “… but I need this job, spying is all I can do. Please let’s bury the hatchet and start over …”
Marcus Devonshire had looked at her initially with suspicion, but Special Agent Miller’s exceptional feminine charms compounded by her large brown eyes oozing sincerity, convinced him that she might just be genuine.
“I’ll do anything to make you see that … Sir.”
Devonshire should have known that Grace was hamming this up, going over the top, but he didn’t see it at all. Instead, he let his groin do the thinking.
“Anything?”
“Anything at all … Marcus, Sir.”
“I have certain predilections Miller, that often involve chains, and dildos and extreme sex …”
Grace swallowed hard, before replying. “I will let you do anything you wish to me, Sir.”
Upon hearing that the Head of MI6 chuckled. “No Grace, it’s me that wishes to suffer …”
Inwardly Grace was laughing harder than she had ever laughed before.
It had to be done in Soho. The same area. The same outcome …
*******
Marcus Devonshire was squealing like a stuck pig, his dirty underwear shoved into his mouth like a crude gag, his wrists and ankles tied to the bedposts with rope restraints. Grace Miller rode him like she would a wild stallion, her hand on his expansive chest, his skin slick with sweat. She leaned back and reached behind her bucking body, grabbing his balls and yanking them forcefully as she continued to thrust her pelvis onto his hard cock.
His muffled cries excited her. Grace could feel the thrill of the hold she had over him, the power she wielded as she dominated this controlling man making her head buzz with an intoxicating sensation of superiority. Out in the world, Devonshire was powerful. Driven, intelligent, dangerous … but here, he was nothing. An ant she could crush beneath her boot heel if she so desired.
She could feel his rock-hard manhood sunk deep between her thighs, strong and unyielding, hitting her just where she wanted and sending ripples of pleasure snaking along her back and into her belly. She clenched herself around him, clamping down tightly. He hated condoms, he told her so, and so Grace made sure not to use one and now he could properly feel the sensation she was giving him.
He was getting close, Grace knew. Her practiced eyes could see how his breathing was quickening and how his eyes were starting to roll into the back of his head. She sped up her pace. It wouldn’t be long now. He was almost there. Marcus Devonshire arched his back. She slammed down on top of him, forcing him deeper and squeezing his testicles firmly as she did so. He jerked at the pain, crying out as he exploded, the warm sensation of his release filling her body, and she smiled.
Men were never weaker than when they’d just cum, and she loved making this man weak. She stayed on top of him for longer than was necessary, clenching his spent erection with her pussy and pumping his testicles with her hand like one would a stress ball, milking him for all he was worth.
Devonshire squirmed like a fish out of water beneath her, struggling to rip free of his restraints as Grace inflicted wave after wave of pleasure mixed with a harsh pain, upon him. Finally, she showed him mercy, releasing her hold on his genitals and sliding off. He practically deflated as she did so.
She pulled his boxers out of his mouth, and he gasped for air like a drowning man. The Special Agent laughed at his breathlessness and leaned down, showering kisses on his neck while pinching one of his nipples between her fingers and tweaking hard, causing him to suck in air between his teeth.
“Holy fuck,” the man grunted, still trying to catch his breath. “That was something else Miller. Fuck me …”
“Sorry Sir? I thought I just had,” Grace laughed at her own witty retort. She kissed his chest and reached over, untying the rope that had bound him. Once his hands were freed, she grasped between his legs and pulled the dildo she’d inserted into him at the start of their session, from his ass.
Devonshire sighed in relief as Grace pulled it out, making him gag a little when she made him clean it with his mouth, being sure to shove it deep into his throat so he would choke on the thick, plastic, secretion coated length.
“Good boy,” she said when he was finished, smiling.
With a self-satisfied smirk Devonshire gently moved her aside and untied his ankles, getting up from the bed. He stretched, his strong muscles bulging on his husky frame. He was well built, his slightly tanned skin glistening with sweat in the soft light of the room. When he turned the Special Agent looked at his ass. It wasn’t the best pair of buttocks she’d ever seen, and it was covered in hair, but the mental image of how she’d violated it earlier was playing out in her mind, and giving her more pleasure than the sight of it ever could.
Just then there was a knock on the room door.
To Be Continued …
Yes, there are a few things that I admire about our Grace, but one of them has to be her iron self-control!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Agent Provocateur (4)
The previous day on a secure cell phone line
“Agent Miller …”
“I have the proof you need.”
“Khoroshaya devochka (Good girl), we need to meet.”
“Yes Sir.” Grace was compliant, submissive in her demeanour, she needed Andreytov to believe that she was still very much in his thrall.
“You know I am in England at this very moment.”
Of course, Grace knew this.
“Yes Sir, I was told that you are in Oxfordshire.” Momentarily Grace recalled her own days spent there at university, and more latterly her first ever mission that she was assigned to alongside a certain Ekaterina Novikova (see Oxford, Spies and the Secret Service) …
… Ekaterina … Kat.
“Meet me tomorrow night at the Sanctum Hotel in Soho, London Sir, you remember Soho I assume?” It was all Grace could do to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
Sanctum Boutique Hotel, Soho, London
That was yesterday and now, as the knock on the hotel room door came over loud and clear, Grace, fresh from having fucked Marcus Devonshire into exhaustion, answered it naked.
“Comrade Miller?” Andreytov’s eyes ogled a body with which he was already very, very familiar.
“I thought we might celebrate Anatoly?” Grace was taking a risk using his first name and also by appearing to be so suspiciously amenable.
But the risk was calculated and her anticipation of his reaction considered, because as she took his hand and placed it upon her right breast, his palm covering her hardened nipple, all thought of questioning Special Agent Miller’s reasoning was gone from Andreytov’s head.
“Miller?” It was the sound of a male voice that caused Andreytov to pull hard on the reins of his ever-increasing levels of lust.
“Who is that?” The SVR Officer asked, just as Devonshire, wearing nothing but a towelling robe, appeared in the bedroom doorway looking out onto the scene before him.
“Anatoly Andreytov?”
“Mister Devonshire?”
Both voices sounded confused.
“Oh, of course,” Grace, still nude but completely unabashed, said with a smile both on her face and in her voice, “I forgot that you two gentlemen know one another.”
“What are you playing at Miller?” The Head of MI6 asked, sounding more than a little nervous.
The girl felt the butterflies starting in her stomach. A Honeytrap … The Sting … she was playing with huge stakes here.
“I’m not ‘playing’ at anything Sir. The Comrade Colonel wants the same information you do and so I thought what would be better than for me to be a very naughty girl and invite him here so that you could both be on the same page.”
Devonshire looked at his opposite number and frowned. “Is she working for you?”
Andreytov laughed, “No Marcus she is not, she just seems to like playing with fire.”
The Head of MI6 was about to ask his series of why’s, who’s and how’s … just as Grace said, “Before I explain everything, I think I deserve to be punished. Is either of you capable of disciplining me?” Her look was coquettish, provocative, alluring …
Andreytov smiled, “Yes little whore, I will beat you like you haven’t been beaten before and then when you are exhausted on the floor at my feet you will explain everything to Mister Devonshire and I.”
Grace smiled inwardly, they had played right into her trap.
A few minutes later, and to the delight of the watching Devonshire, Andreytov’s big hand descended for the third time on Grace’s presented and naked bottom. She had nothing to protect her from the stinging assault, as she lay across the Russian Colonel’s lap.
“You were told to keep your eyes and head lowered, were you not, girl?” taunted the SVR man, as his hand smacked her backside again. “Bitches like you need to know their place, and they need to learn how to obey their Masters.”
Grace wailed ...
“Answer me, girl!” Another stinging slap accompanied the words.
“Yes … yes, Sir!” yelped the wriggling girl. She felt eager eyes feasting upon her, watching her gyrations with enthusiasm … but she had to go through with this punishing act in order to complete the most important mission of her life.
The large hand once again slapped loudly upon her trembling flesh, the sound almost deafening to her confused senses. The accompanying laughter and jeers were appalling. She saw an image of herself, bent across this monster’s lap, being punished like some kind of naughty schoolgirl in front of a classroom of peers by a dispassionate teacher who cared nothing for her modesty.
Crack! The demeaning spanking continued. Grace felt her bottom glowing, and imagined her buttocks, red and blistered beneath the harsh touch of Andreytov’s palm.
Crack! “You are a very bad girl,” sneered the SVR Officer, as he continued to chastise his victim.
“Harder! Beat her harder! Make her scream for mercy,” shouted Devonshire, their competing roles as enemy operatives forgotten for a little while in the midst of their mutual perversions.
Obligingly, Grace’s tormentor brought his hand down yet again, with force, across the girl’s right bottom-cheek, the sound of the slap like a whip-crack. Grace screamed loudly, the cry authentic in its wailing, bucking so frantically that she almost managed to break free from the man’s strong hold. Tightening his grip, he landed another resounding slap, and continued with his tirade.
“Tell Mister Devonshire what you are, Grace Miller! Tell him!” he shouted.
“I am a very bad girl!” screamed Grace.
“Yes, you are, and naughty girls deserve to be punished, don’t they?” Smack!
“Yes, yes!” wailed the girl.
“Say it … tell Marcus.”
“I deserve to be punished,” whimpered Grace, pre-empting the evil man’s next question, and hoping it would speed things along to the end of this humiliating experience.
“Yes, you do,” sneered Andreytov.
“And how should little sluts like you be punished?”
Crack! The flashing hand fell again, scorching the right bottom-cheek, pressing her to Andreytov’s lap, causing her to wriggle in distress.
“I don’t hear you, girl.”
Grace moaned loudly, then cried out, “I should be beaten … spanked. I should have my ass spanked!”
“Yes, you should, and maybe that should happen with a cock filling your mouth AND another filling your sweet pussy, Special Agent Miller?”
A silent shadow crept over the kinky vignette and all heads turned to look at the figure now standing tall, dressed in black and framed by the door.
To Be Continued …
The previous day on a secure cell phone line
“Agent Miller …”
“I have the proof you need.”
“Khoroshaya devochka (Good girl), we need to meet.”
“Yes Sir.” Grace was compliant, submissive in her demeanour, she needed Andreytov to believe that she was still very much in his thrall.
“You know I am in England at this very moment.”
Of course, Grace knew this.
“Yes Sir, I was told that you are in Oxfordshire.” Momentarily Grace recalled her own days spent there at university, and more latterly her first ever mission that she was assigned to alongside a certain Ekaterina Novikova (see Oxford, Spies and the Secret Service) …
… Ekaterina … Kat.
“Meet me tomorrow night at the Sanctum Hotel in Soho, London Sir, you remember Soho I assume?” It was all Grace could do to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
Sanctum Boutique Hotel, Soho, London
That was yesterday and now, as the knock on the hotel room door came over loud and clear, Grace, fresh from having fucked Marcus Devonshire into exhaustion, answered it naked.
“Comrade Miller?” Andreytov’s eyes ogled a body with which he was already very, very familiar.
“I thought we might celebrate Anatoly?” Grace was taking a risk using his first name and also by appearing to be so suspiciously amenable.
But the risk was calculated and her anticipation of his reaction considered, because as she took his hand and placed it upon her right breast, his palm covering her hardened nipple, all thought of questioning Special Agent Miller’s reasoning was gone from Andreytov’s head.
“Miller?” It was the sound of a male voice that caused Andreytov to pull hard on the reins of his ever-increasing levels of lust.
“Who is that?” The SVR Officer asked, just as Devonshire, wearing nothing but a towelling robe, appeared in the bedroom doorway looking out onto the scene before him.
“Anatoly Andreytov?”
“Mister Devonshire?”
Both voices sounded confused.
“Oh, of course,” Grace, still nude but completely unabashed, said with a smile both on her face and in her voice, “I forgot that you two gentlemen know one another.”
“What are you playing at Miller?” The Head of MI6 asked, sounding more than a little nervous.
The girl felt the butterflies starting in her stomach. A Honeytrap … The Sting … she was playing with huge stakes here.
“I’m not ‘playing’ at anything Sir. The Comrade Colonel wants the same information you do and so I thought what would be better than for me to be a very naughty girl and invite him here so that you could both be on the same page.”
Devonshire looked at his opposite number and frowned. “Is she working for you?”
Andreytov laughed, “No Marcus she is not, she just seems to like playing with fire.”
The Head of MI6 was about to ask his series of why’s, who’s and how’s … just as Grace said, “Before I explain everything, I think I deserve to be punished. Is either of you capable of disciplining me?” Her look was coquettish, provocative, alluring …
Andreytov smiled, “Yes little whore, I will beat you like you haven’t been beaten before and then when you are exhausted on the floor at my feet you will explain everything to Mister Devonshire and I.”
Grace smiled inwardly, they had played right into her trap.
A few minutes later, and to the delight of the watching Devonshire, Andreytov’s big hand descended for the third time on Grace’s presented and naked bottom. She had nothing to protect her from the stinging assault, as she lay across the Russian Colonel’s lap.
“You were told to keep your eyes and head lowered, were you not, girl?” taunted the SVR man, as his hand smacked her backside again. “Bitches like you need to know their place, and they need to learn how to obey their Masters.”
Grace wailed ...
“Answer me, girl!” Another stinging slap accompanied the words.
“Yes … yes, Sir!” yelped the wriggling girl. She felt eager eyes feasting upon her, watching her gyrations with enthusiasm … but she had to go through with this punishing act in order to complete the most important mission of her life.
The large hand once again slapped loudly upon her trembling flesh, the sound almost deafening to her confused senses. The accompanying laughter and jeers were appalling. She saw an image of herself, bent across this monster’s lap, being punished like some kind of naughty schoolgirl in front of a classroom of peers by a dispassionate teacher who cared nothing for her modesty.
Crack! The demeaning spanking continued. Grace felt her bottom glowing, and imagined her buttocks, red and blistered beneath the harsh touch of Andreytov’s palm.
Crack! “You are a very bad girl,” sneered the SVR Officer, as he continued to chastise his victim.
“Harder! Beat her harder! Make her scream for mercy,” shouted Devonshire, their competing roles as enemy operatives forgotten for a little while in the midst of their mutual perversions.
Obligingly, Grace’s tormentor brought his hand down yet again, with force, across the girl’s right bottom-cheek, the sound of the slap like a whip-crack. Grace screamed loudly, the cry authentic in its wailing, bucking so frantically that she almost managed to break free from the man’s strong hold. Tightening his grip, he landed another resounding slap, and continued with his tirade.
“Tell Mister Devonshire what you are, Grace Miller! Tell him!” he shouted.
“I am a very bad girl!” screamed Grace.
“Yes, you are, and naughty girls deserve to be punished, don’t they?” Smack!
“Yes, yes!” wailed the girl.
“Say it … tell Marcus.”
“I deserve to be punished,” whimpered Grace, pre-empting the evil man’s next question, and hoping it would speed things along to the end of this humiliating experience.
“Yes, you do,” sneered Andreytov.
“And how should little sluts like you be punished?”
Crack! The flashing hand fell again, scorching the right bottom-cheek, pressing her to Andreytov’s lap, causing her to wriggle in distress.
“I don’t hear you, girl.”
Grace moaned loudly, then cried out, “I should be beaten … spanked. I should have my ass spanked!”
“Yes, you should, and maybe that should happen with a cock filling your mouth AND another filling your sweet pussy, Special Agent Miller?”
A silent shadow crept over the kinky vignette and all heads turned to look at the figure now standing tall, dressed in black and framed by the door.
To Be Continued …
At last, someone has grown a set of balls!
Fossy... I am quite out of breath!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Agent Provocateur (5)
Sanctum Boutique Hotel, Soho, London
Anatoly Andreytov stood quickly causing Grace to tumble onto the floor, whereupon she scrambled to the place where her clothing lay in a discarded heap.
The Russian turned his head and his mouth hung open when he saw Major Jason Underhill from the British Special Services standing before them. Underhill kicked the door closed whilst keeping his silencer-enhanced Glock pointed at the two naked, and very compromised, men.
“You Andreytov, you bastard, you did it. You killed Ekaterina. My Kat …”
That was all that Jase said before he pulled the trigger, and shot the Russian in the groin.
Andreytov fell to the floor, eyes wide with surprise, his brain unable to comprehend what had just happened. He looked down at the bloody hole that was now between his legs, and that’s when he started groaning, and squirming.
Grace gasped too, but, retaining her composure, she reached for her own Glock, also sporting a silencer attachment, which was primed and ready in her bag. She trained her aim at Marcus Devonshire.
“What did you do?” Andreytov huffed. “What have you done to me?”
“I took away the weapon you used the most to torture the love of my life and this poor girl,” he glanced quickly at Grace, who, despite still being nude, was slowly getting to her knees.
“You’ll leave behind no legacy. You’ll leave no mark on this world. You’ve been beaten, Anatoly. And best of all, you were beaten by Grace Miller, the girl you underestimated so damn much.” Major Underhill revelled in the words.
The unbridled rage that flared behind Anatoly Andreytov’s eyes as he clutched his crotch was momentarily terrifying. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” he yelled.
“Fuck you Andreytov,” the young Agent said, her voice clear and steady, then she shot the Russian in the head. Both Grace and Jason stood there for a moment, looking down at the body, briefly savouring their victory.
Devonshire whimpered. “What have you done?” The Head of MI6 said, both guns now trained on him.
“Shut the fuck up,” Major Underhill ordered.
“You won’t get away with th …”
“He said shut the fuck up, Devonshire,” Grace added her voice to the situation.
“Whatever you think I’ve done, you’re mistaken. I had nothing to do with …”
“You won’t hurt anyone anymore … Sir. Not Sophia, not Mister Moore and certainly not me.” Grace spoke calmly … clearly.
Special Agent Miller held her arms and her aim steady as the bullet flew silently from the chamber. She stared into Devonshire’s dark eyes as the life left them, blood tricking down his face from the bullet wound in his forehead as he fell to the ground.
“Bastard!” Was all Jason said as both Marcus Devonshire and Anatoly Andreytov lay dead in the hotel room.
Grace dropped her gun to the floor and gazed down at her hands. She did not know why, but she felt ashamed. She felt like, somehow, she’d failed.
“Grace…”, the Major started to say.
“Just … don’t say anything, please,” she told him. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I did my job. I did it poorly. That’s all there is to it.”
“Poorly?” said Jason. “… Is that what you think?”
“I should have saved her, Kat, she should still be alive. I was with her when they murdered her. I’m trained to sort shit like that out … but I watched her being crucified …”
“What happened … to Kat … Is not on you, not at all.” replied Jason, sternly. “You sacrificed a great deal too that day, what you went through was way above and beyond the call of duty, Grace. In my book, you’re a fucking hero.”
“I wish I could believe you,” Grace said quietly. “I don’t feel like a hero.” She felt overwhelmed, and guilty, and fucking stupid. But when she looked into Jason’s eyes, she knew he could see what she was struggling with. And that was when he became the real fucking hero in her book.
“You see this phone?” Jason said, holding out his hand set. Grace nodded, as she pulled on a shirt to cover at least some of her naked body.
“I’m setting the clock. You get ten minutes. Ten minutes where you don’t have to worry about proving yourself. Ten minutes where the mind games get put on hold. Ten minutes where you’re not a spy. Ten minutes where you just get to be a girl, and you can be weak, and vulnerable, and scared, and no one is going to take advantage of you or judge you for it. Ten minutes where you can shed all the fucked up shit you’re carrying around with you, and let someone else look after you for a change. I’ve never been good at giving speeches. Nor have I ever been good at giving women what they really need. But if you’ll let me, for the next ten minutes, I’m yours. And I promise you, I’ll be strong enough for the both of us.”
Grace looked into Jason’s face, her chest ready to explode with emotion that she could no longer contain. The things that had happened to her… with Kat, in Soho, with Devonshire and Andreytov … they were too much, too powerful, too fresh for her to keep bottled up inside.
And then she cried.
The Special Agent grabbed onto Jason and hugged him close, and she sobbed … long, hard and mournful, as the past few weeks of hell caught up with her. Jason held her in his arms, stroking the back of her head as she wept, holding her tightly and letting her know that in his embrace, she was safe. She was loved. She was forgiven for her sins. She had given him strength when he’d needed it, and now he was doing the same for her, and Grace was eternally grateful for his kindness. He held her like that as she wept, letting the sadness and anger and pain seep from her body. They shared their grief, silently remembering Ekaterina Novikova, and in those ten minutes, Major Jason Underhill saved Grace’s life, her sanity, and her heart. He truly was her guardian angel, and without him, she would not have had the strength to go on past the events that had transpired in Soho, London.
“Thank you,” she whispered, when she couldn’t cry anymore.
“Grace Miller, you’re one of the best agents I’ve ever had the privilege of working with. Man or woman.” He pulled away from her and cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You did good, kid,” he said.
To Be Continued …
Sanctum Boutique Hotel, Soho, London
Anatoly Andreytov stood quickly causing Grace to tumble onto the floor, whereupon she scrambled to the place where her clothing lay in a discarded heap.
The Russian turned his head and his mouth hung open when he saw Major Jason Underhill from the British Special Services standing before them. Underhill kicked the door closed whilst keeping his silencer-enhanced Glock pointed at the two naked, and very compromised, men.
“You Andreytov, you bastard, you did it. You killed Ekaterina. My Kat …”
That was all that Jase said before he pulled the trigger, and shot the Russian in the groin.
Andreytov fell to the floor, eyes wide with surprise, his brain unable to comprehend what had just happened. He looked down at the bloody hole that was now between his legs, and that’s when he started groaning, and squirming.
Grace gasped too, but, retaining her composure, she reached for her own Glock, also sporting a silencer attachment, which was primed and ready in her bag. She trained her aim at Marcus Devonshire.
“What did you do?” Andreytov huffed. “What have you done to me?”
“I took away the weapon you used the most to torture the love of my life and this poor girl,” he glanced quickly at Grace, who, despite still being nude, was slowly getting to her knees.
“You’ll leave behind no legacy. You’ll leave no mark on this world. You’ve been beaten, Anatoly. And best of all, you were beaten by Grace Miller, the girl you underestimated so damn much.” Major Underhill revelled in the words.
The unbridled rage that flared behind Anatoly Andreytov’s eyes as he clutched his crotch was momentarily terrifying. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” he yelled.
“Fuck you Andreytov,” the young Agent said, her voice clear and steady, then she shot the Russian in the head. Both Grace and Jason stood there for a moment, looking down at the body, briefly savouring their victory.
Devonshire whimpered. “What have you done?” The Head of MI6 said, both guns now trained on him.
“Shut the fuck up,” Major Underhill ordered.
“You won’t get away with th …”
“He said shut the fuck up, Devonshire,” Grace added her voice to the situation.
“Whatever you think I’ve done, you’re mistaken. I had nothing to do with …”
“You won’t hurt anyone anymore … Sir. Not Sophia, not Mister Moore and certainly not me.” Grace spoke calmly … clearly.
Special Agent Miller held her arms and her aim steady as the bullet flew silently from the chamber. She stared into Devonshire’s dark eyes as the life left them, blood tricking down his face from the bullet wound in his forehead as he fell to the ground.
“Bastard!” Was all Jason said as both Marcus Devonshire and Anatoly Andreytov lay dead in the hotel room.
Grace dropped her gun to the floor and gazed down at her hands. She did not know why, but she felt ashamed. She felt like, somehow, she’d failed.
“Grace…”, the Major started to say.
“Just … don’t say anything, please,” she told him. “I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I did my job. I did it poorly. That’s all there is to it.”
“Poorly?” said Jason. “… Is that what you think?”
“I should have saved her, Kat, she should still be alive. I was with her when they murdered her. I’m trained to sort shit like that out … but I watched her being crucified …”
“What happened … to Kat … Is not on you, not at all.” replied Jason, sternly. “You sacrificed a great deal too that day, what you went through was way above and beyond the call of duty, Grace. In my book, you’re a fucking hero.”
“I wish I could believe you,” Grace said quietly. “I don’t feel like a hero.” She felt overwhelmed, and guilty, and fucking stupid. But when she looked into Jason’s eyes, she knew he could see what she was struggling with. And that was when he became the real fucking hero in her book.
“You see this phone?” Jason said, holding out his hand set. Grace nodded, as she pulled on a shirt to cover at least some of her naked body.
“I’m setting the clock. You get ten minutes. Ten minutes where you don’t have to worry about proving yourself. Ten minutes where the mind games get put on hold. Ten minutes where you’re not a spy. Ten minutes where you just get to be a girl, and you can be weak, and vulnerable, and scared, and no one is going to take advantage of you or judge you for it. Ten minutes where you can shed all the fucked up shit you’re carrying around with you, and let someone else look after you for a change. I’ve never been good at giving speeches. Nor have I ever been good at giving women what they really need. But if you’ll let me, for the next ten minutes, I’m yours. And I promise you, I’ll be strong enough for the both of us.”
Grace looked into Jason’s face, her chest ready to explode with emotion that she could no longer contain. The things that had happened to her… with Kat, in Soho, with Devonshire and Andreytov … they were too much, too powerful, too fresh for her to keep bottled up inside.
And then she cried.
The Special Agent grabbed onto Jason and hugged him close, and she sobbed … long, hard and mournful, as the past few weeks of hell caught up with her. Jason held her in his arms, stroking the back of her head as she wept, holding her tightly and letting her know that in his embrace, she was safe. She was loved. She was forgiven for her sins. She had given him strength when he’d needed it, and now he was doing the same for her, and Grace was eternally grateful for his kindness. He held her like that as she wept, letting the sadness and anger and pain seep from her body. They shared their grief, silently remembering Ekaterina Novikova, and in those ten minutes, Major Jason Underhill saved Grace’s life, her sanity, and her heart. He truly was her guardian angel, and without him, she would not have had the strength to go on past the events that had transpired in Soho, London.
“Thank you,” she whispered, when she couldn’t cry anymore.
“Grace Miller, you’re one of the best agents I’ve ever had the privilege of working with. Man or woman.” He pulled away from her and cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “You did good, kid,” he said.
To Be Continued …