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Interrogation: Part 3 “So you’re going with the ’too stupid’ defense?” the Redhead asked.
“No! Not too stupid.. Well maybe. Okay, yes. I was too stupid okay?”
The display flashed into life and Thomas saw himself in the chair on screen.
“Valkyrie, yes. That was the client. Uhh, it was a clean gig. It was straight up and down. They had some new drone technology, but their software was for shit. Natasha was acting Chief Technology officer after the main guy took a sabbatical or something. It was easy work. Systems integration, user interface, feature control schemes, back end data collection. Basic stuff, it was all basic stuff!”
His heart froze as his words were replayed to him.
“Now Tom, I hope you don’t think of me as a fucking moron.” She leaned towards him with menace. “Because it sounds like you’ve been feeding me shit and calling it caviar.”
“The WORK! The WORK was SIMPLE! There was nothing..”
Thomas cut himself off as his world ended. At least he wished his world had ended. The pain in his balls was so much worse than last time, it didn’t make any sense. Last time had felt like his balls exploding from the inside, how was this so much worse? What was worse than his balls exploding from the inside? What the fuck was he feeling?
“AAARRRGHGGHGHGHGHG, UGHGGRUGH” his screams echoed thinly in the square room; when they died away only the Redhead’s groan of satisfaction remained.
“Now Tom, I’ve pushed 2 of the buttons on this box. You don’t want me to push any more but let’s just say that I’d get tremendous job satisfaction if that’s the way this goes.”
Thomas tried to lash out. To convey his hurt and fear in violence. But he was only hurting himself more.
“So Tom, so far, you’ve allowed your security cleared device to become compromised by a foreign asset and then become some kind of creepy sex slave for the same woman as you failed to recognise how compromised your code was?”
Thomas just whimpered.
“No use clamming up now Tom. We’re just getting started.”
“I.. I can’t.. Please.. Let me go, please.” Thomas hardly knew what words he was saying.
“Not before you tell me what the fuck was going on with you and Natasha after the gig. Why would she stick around to fuck with you? She had a clean get away and she blew it on your sorry ass. Why!?”
Thomas recognised this as the most earnest emotional register he’d heard from the Redhead. A question with an answer she didn’t already know. Stakes she actually cared about.
Into the Uncanny “Thomas, Daaarrliing.” Her rolling rasp was unmistakable to him. “I know thing didn’t work out how you like. But I have business proposition for you.” His finger hovered over the delete button of the voice mail. “As well, many other uses for you, I have.”
Thomas had very much been enjoying not working with or for Natasha. He was enjoying sleeping in his own bed and jerking his own dick. He was enjoying not waking up with a headache and a boner from hell. But he was and always had been a sucker for beautiful women. So he arranged a date.
Her business proposition felt like it came from the twilight zone. It amounted to a plan to pry the engineering team away from Valkyrie and reconstitute their drone programme under a different corporate identity with her as the sole owner. It was an insane idea. But her pitch about the other stuff was even crazier.
“You want me to do what?” Thomas asked with as much bemusement as he could muster.
“Come Thomas, don’t be stupid with me. You know I like when nothing for you, yes?” Her emphasis on ‘like’ and ‘nothing’ was so sexually calculating that Thomas immediately got an erection.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, I did kind of get that impression.” Thomas said, playing stupid.
“So it’s settled, yes?” The most declarative question. “I hire you from work, you work for me, you work under me, with cage, yes?”
Of all the things Thomas hadn’t anticipated, this was the thing he hadn’t anticipated the most. However, in the moment he found the offer quite intoxicating. There wasn’t any real work to do. All the code was already written. The idea of pulling down day rate to be a sex slave, for this woman, was pretty sweet. In a largely boring, work driven life, this registered as a deeply attractive opportunity.
He moved into her townhouse. She fitted him with a serious looking chastity cage. It was comfortable enough in general but anytime he got an erection was hellish. He’d never worn anything like it before and the pain of arousal within it was shocking to him. On day one of their arrangement he found himself breathless under her pussy as she pounded her hips into his face and he groaned in agony as his dick strained against the cheese grater metal of his cage.
“It beautiful, no?” facing his feet with the flesh of her mighty buttocks pressing against his face and poking a mean finger into the lump of denied erection behind the steel base ring. “Very beautiful for me.”
Thomas had never considered that his sincere enthusiasm for eating pussy could become such a painful liability. It only took a single night for him to start regretting his decision. After smothering him in her ass and stimulating herself to an orgasm by vibrator she had slumped off his breathless body and pulled him in to play the big spoon so that his jutting cage went between her thighs as she passed out in the blissful knowledge of his denial.
It was the worst night's sleep of his life. He exercised all of the mental discipline he could to drag his thoughts away from his dick; to lower the pressure and pain only to be jolted awake by a fresh round of escape attempts. His nostrils still filled with the scent of her sex meant every breath was a reminder. The soft flesh of her dreamy thighs a constant stimulant to his ever twitching dick.
How was he going to survive this? What use was he if he couldn’t sleep? How much of this brutal cockring pressure pain could he endure?
But he found out there were lots of uses for him. Far more than he’d originally envisaged. Because there wasn’t any actual coding work for him to get into, Natasha had decided that his work hours ought to be spent making her life easier. She was still pulling down a paycheque from Valkyrie while she devoted all of her energies to ripping them off. So Thomas spent most of his day pretending to be Natasha in various email exchanges. She also put him to work around the house.
She demanded that he be naked while going about his chores. “I like to see merchandise.” she’d say. She wasn’t even there half the time, but as she’d come and go as she pleased he learned that he had to stay naked at all times to avoid earning her ire. And her ire was quite frightening. With his extremely painful cock cage and her blinding sexual magnificence punishing him was beyond simplicity. She never needed to raise a hand in anger when a sexy glance would have him buckled in pain.
If she really wanted to drive home how disappointed she was she would lie him down and stroke his dick below the base ring. Her small hands hardly wrapped around the fat rod of compressed hydraulics. She’d look him in the eye with deviant delight as she worked him to his maximum expression of arousal within the strictest confines of the painful steel cage..
While Thomas dreaded these bizarre punishments, he had to reckon with the fact that he never raised any objections. She would ask him to lie down and he would. She would take him in hand and he would let her. There were material power dynamics of employment, status and cages; but he knew he was subjectively invested in these on a sexual level. Natasha had him hooked in ways he didn’t know he could be hooked.
And it wasn’t all bad. There were rewards as well as punishments. After he’d managed the first streak of 3 days without earning any punishments she had tied him up to the bed, removed the cage and taken him into her pussy. After all the denial and pain, these moments of captured pleasure were of incredible psychic significance to Thomas. He was beyond elated to be inside her, overwhelmed with physical and psychological excitement to be a functional penis haver once more.
Of course, there was nothing easy about his rewards. The challenge was that he not cum inside her. If he thought he was about to, he had to ask her to stop. If he asked her to stop the game was over and the cage went back on. If he managed to endure the teasing to her satisfaction then she’d jerk him off to completion before locking him back up. There was the promise of a blow job if he ever managed to win 3 of these in a row, but over the two months this went on for, he only managed 3 successful orgasms total.
In all the delirium of his hypersexed denial, he had contributed functionally nothing to the project Natasha had originally pitched him on. She would always report that it was going well, but Thomas became increasingly interested. To the point that he started poking around when she wasn’t there. After a month of the arrangement he’d gotten very quick at doing his chores and her emails and he’d gotten more familiar with the patterns of her comings and goings.
As he dug through documents on her computer he started to feel like he had been played. Potentially from the very start. The scheme as she’d pitched it wasn’t ever going to happen. She was lining up every necessary technical expert to join her programme with the promise of major stock options from the outset and she had a number of big payday contracts to deliver the technology lined up along with venture capital investors on the hook. But it was all a house of cards designed to fall.
Thomas second guessed himself about his read on this a number of times. It was possible that he was wrong, but not likely. If he was right, then at the moment any money changed hands or any experts changed sides, she would disappear. Everyone involved would be disgraced in their professions. Valkyrie would have to rebuild their technical team despite not losing them to any real competition. The money being pumped into a non existent shell company with no staff or products would have to be written off and potentially dumped again somewhere else. The entire thing was a boondoggle and she was going to make bank.
After two months he was too confident in his assessment to let it lay any longer, he had to confront her lest he get caught in its shit storm.
“Nat, I know what you’re doing. I know what’s going on.” Thomas said somberly.
“Oh Tommy relax. I know it’s hard for you to be relaxed in that thing but you really do need to take a chill pill once in a while.” All trace of her broken English had vanished. Her thick Romanian inflections replaced with a broadly American tone. Maybe a hint of Russian.
Thomas stood naked and caged in stunned silence.
“You know I’ve looked out for you right? I hired you via a shell company that has nothing to do with this. When this is over you get to go back to reality with a big bonus from your bosses and memories of more pussy than you’d have eaten this decade.” She was spinning in her computer chair. Flicking her legs about as she went. Her knee high boots going one way and then the other. Thomas found himself transfixed on the dark triangle between them.
“I uhh. I uhh. I don’t know about this Nat, this is serious business. You’re fucking with incredibly powerful people. How can you be sure this won’t come back on me?” Thomas’s tone modulated between reasonable and outraged as he pondered the danger he was likely in.
“Thomas! Sweet Thomas.” Romanian accent back. She stood and walked up close to him. “You know you my special boy, yes?” Thomas gulped as she laid her hands on his naked chest. “I hate to leave without giving you reward, yes?”
Thomas was not a particularly strong willed man at the best of times. His brain was telling him to get out at all costs but his dick was screaming in actual pain and desperation. He talked his brain into the notion that this was already too far gone and he might as well see it through.
She laid him on the bed and tied his wrists and ankles to the bed posts. Thomas noticed that she’d done a far sloppier job of the bondage than usual. There was play in the bonds. Enough wriggling and he’d be out. But getting out was the last thing on his mind.
She kept all her clothes on. Swung her booted leg over his her and turned his world black. She was still wearing a thong but that was all that was between him and her sex. He felt the release and his dick spring to full size. Then he felt the warmth of her mouth on him. In that moment all of Thomas’s regrets melted in her mouth. It had all been worth it for this. He hated himself just a little bit for feeling so strongly about it, for being such a primally motivated loser that a hot girl sucking his dick justified all manner of ills, but there was no denying it. This was the pot of gold at the end of his rainbow. This was his Moby Dick.
He should have caught himself at that literary reference. It should have been a warning. Just as he became certain that he was over the edge; just as the world receded into the single point of energy that was his orgasm, she removed herself. He tried to protest but his shouts were muffled in ass. He felt her fingers coil around the base of his balls.
“Sweet Thomas, always so so stupid.”
He felt pain explode in his balls. The impact of her front knuckles brought down from on high into his compressed ball sack. With nowhere to jostle away to and nowhere for the force to dissipate, his nuts took the full brunt. And she wasn’t done, she kept swinging.
Thomas had no idea how long this went on for. He knew that after 3 hits he was screaming into her ass and pussy. He knew that after 5 hits she was grinding into his screaming face. He knew that at some point in the next 30 or so hits, she had cum to a magnificent climax. The sound of it was indelibly etched on his memory. For all of the overstimulation and painful trauma, he knew the thing that would live on with him was the sound of her pleasure.
That was the last time he’d seen her. She left him there, half conscious and fully hard.
“Say hello to Rachel for me.” was all he heard as she left.
Interrogation: Part 4 “AARRGHRGHR. HGUUGRHGGHG. OWWHRGRJGJ” and on and on like that Thomas went. For how long he wasn’t sure.
In the flashes of his vision he was able to process he could observe the Redhead angrily mashing the button on her box of infinite pain. He knew it was over more by the lack of his own screaming than by his capacity to register if he was still in pain.
“So, Mr Sanders.” her voice a little breathless, possibly a little riled. “You’re telling me that not only did you unwittingly become an accomplice to compromising national security, you also knowingly assisted a foreign asset in her defrauding of the military-industrial complex?”
Thomas couldn’t really argue with that assessment and he didn’t have the strength to speak.
“And that you’ve been LYING TO ME THIS ENTIRE TIME!” She hit a button to punctuate each word and Thomas was lost again in his haze of noises from the netherrealm.
Again, Thomas couldn’t really argue with her, not between his screaming and not on its merits. He had been lying this entire time.
“I hope getting your dick sucked was worth it Mr Sanders.”
In his heart of hearts, it had been worth it to Thomas and it was beginning to show.
“Tom! Are you.. Are you getting an erection?”
The drugs must have been wearing off, Thomas thought.
“You’re going to be going away for a long time Mr Sanders, when we’re through with you you’ll wish you were never born!”
Thomas said nothing. He was exhausted by the pain, just hanging in his bonds.
“Get him out of my sight!”
As they wheeled the chair out of the room Thomas let his head fall back over his shoulder and said
“Natasha says Hello”.
Aftermath In spite of Rachel’s threats, Thomas found himself quite comfortable in the embrace of the American justice system. Ultimately it was a bureaucracy and like all American bureaucratic systems it was completely ineffectual. He got moved from place to place a few times. But his prosecution depended on there being a case, or charges, or the acknowledgement of crimes.
To the best of his knowledge nothing of the sort ever came to pass. The companies involved preferred to hide their incompetence from shareholders. The venture capitalists preferred to conceal their losses in successful portfolios rather than admit to being played. The government departments writing cheques continued to be government departments writing cheques. Thomas was like a remainder in an equation that no one much cared about.
He was released. Not on bail. Not pending charges. Just released. He pondered if either Rachel or Natasha had somehow done him a favour, he wasn’t sure why either would though. His bosses weren’t pleased about his disappearing act but fuck those guys. He could get another job if he needed it.
What he was most interested in was the case. In the files he’d snuck out of Natasha’s computer. In the notes he’d taken about Rachel during his interrogation. As a puzzle it was clearly missing a lot of pieces, but it was far more complete than when he’d embarked on this project. Ultimately his clues didn’t amount to a whole lot. There wasn’t any single killer lead that he could immediately follow up. But his understanding of Natasha’s pattern of behaviour had improved immeasurably. He was confident that he would be able to recognise the next op she pulled and position himself accordingly.
Then he got an email.
“Sweet Thomas. I know you’re looking for me. It's very romantic of you. But you should know that I can have Rachel pick you up any time. Maybe that is not so scary for you, maybe you even think it is my treat to you. Regardless, it warms my heart to think of the two of you together, so we’ll see.
The only thing you must promise me is not to spoil our fun. Otherwise, good hunting.”
It wounded him a little to think that his skulking around was so obvious to her. That he couldn’t even poke around an old op without her knowing about it. Clearly he’d have to up his game. But that was okay. He knew it would be worth it.
Prelude *12 months earlier*
Paul had been working as an analyst at MI6 for almost 10 years. They’d hired him straight out of university and it had been the only job he’d ever really known. After being passed over for field work 8 years in a row he’d finally given up any hope of making it out from behind his desk.
“You’re too good an Analyst Paul.” was the sort of thing his various supervisors over the years had said to him before getting a promotion themselves.
Paul was a good analyst. In his own head he considered himself the best in the business. But he’d learned early on that quality analysis is the last thing anyone wants from an Analyst, so he kept most of his insights to himself.
In his opinion the great powers spy game simply wasn’t what it used to be. The glory days of real stakes and ideological zeal were long gone. It was all essentially different corporate entities competing to justify their budgets. With no profits, no share price and no overt victory conditions, the only way to justify your budget was to spend more than your budget.
A good analyst was someone who could plausibly waste money spinning yarns. A good agent was someone who could run ops at vast expense with little material change. A good organisation was one that made no difference if it was there or not.
That’s why Paul kept it to himself when he first observed the pattern. Russia would run some bizarre ‘Fuck you’ op in the American defense contractor industry. America would run an equally bizarre ‘Fuck you’ op in the Russian private militias. Everything would get quietly investigated before being loudly swept under the rug. There was almost always a fall guy implicated and the stories about what happened to them never failed to give Paul an erection. Poor guys he thought; poor, lucky guys.
So he started putting together a plan. It was, in his own opinion, an extremely stupid plan. The vast likelihood was that he would fall at the first hurdle. But he’d made up his mind. There was no way his superiors would authorise him conducting a real investigation into this. Messing in the American’s back yard was strictly forbidden. So he had no choice really, he told himself. He simply had to go rogue. He had to put his body, his dick and his balls on the line. For Queen and country of course.
He would perform the ultimate sacrifice to see this through. He would become, an American.