Posted by Max5s on July 14, 1999 at 18:07:21:
A Day In Atlanta
Sam McKenna closed his eyes and relaxed as the wind blew through his lightly graying hair. His mind was on Sonya. They had met, what was it, four times now, and each encounter had pushed the limits of sexual experimentation just a little bit further. He glanced at the speedometer needle on the little blue Porsche and watched it hover at just under 110 miles per hour as they slid along the cross-town connector freeway toward Dunwoody. For a few moments, he thought about that Sammy Hagar song, but his concentration shifted to something much more enticing as he watched the hem of Sonya’s dress slide above her knee as she down-shifted into third gear. Her thighs had seen a bit of sun since their last meeting, and he wondered about the shape of the tan lines lying beneath the fabric of her blue, cotton dress.
He didn't really know all that much about Sonya Blair, and she certainly didn't know much about him. It was an arrangement they both felt comfortable with despite their rather intense mutual attraction. There was something about her though that he couldn't quite figure out. She had the ability, conscious or not, to etch away his defenses. It was a bit unnerving to think about, but when he was willing to let himself go, she could take him places he had never been willing to go before.
She was also a doctor. What kind was it? Psychiatry? Most of the technical books in her study were about manic disorders, but there was one shelf that was devoted to interviewing techniques. It set him to wondering how many seemingly innocent questions she'd asked him as they got to know one another. Maybe she knew more about him than he thought. There were also several books on the experimental use of drugs. One in particular had caught his eye. “TiHKAL”. Tryptamines I Have Known And Loved. He looked at her short brown hair and began to wonder. She reminded him of Madeline, the shrink on “La Femme Nikita”. Didn’t SHE use drugs for interrogations? Was Sonya like the make-believe Madeline? Or were the drugs for another purpose? What was it that Alice (Ann Shulgin) had said? With certain psychedelics, “love making can become a truly multidimensional experience, sensuousness interwoven with spirit, jeweled images behind closed eyelids combining with the smell and feel of skin, and the orgasm flowering deep in the mind before it explodes---excruciatingly sweet and long---in the body.”
Slowly, his eyes drifted back to the hem of her dress. She smiled to herself and shifted the positions of her legs sending the hem halfway to her crotch. Sonya glanced to her right just long enough for their eyes to meet, then they both started laughing. It was going to be an interesting night.
Sonya's house was large and exuded a warm, comfortable atmosphere. As they stepped into the entry hall, they were met by her aging Doberman. The animal guarded up at first, but after recognizing the unconcerned attitude of her master, approached them for a few moments of much wanted affection.
"Care for a glass of white zin?" she asked.
"Absolutely," he replied. "You still have some of that Sutter Home variety?"
"I have both the Sutter Home and a new one from Fetzer. It's a bit drier if you want to try it."
"I'll stick with the Sutter," he replied.
A few moments later she emerged from the kitchen with two full glasses of instant tranquillity. Somewhere along the line she'd lost her heels, which was all right by him. He'd long ago discovered that he preferred the easy stride of the barefoot Goddesses at Zuma Beach to the sometimes awkward gait of the business women dressed in high heels downtown.
They clinked their glasses together, then took a drink. He studied her face, paying particular attention to her rich, brown eyes and soft red lips. Seconds later, they were in a tight embrace, his pelvis grinding against her stomach and his lips pressed firmly against hers. She teased him a bit with her tongue, then slid her hand up the inside of his leg and let it come to rest against his erection. Her other hand slid across his chest then her fingers looped around his tie. She kissed him again then slowly pushed him back against the wall. Within moments, she had his zipper down and was freely massaging his penis. She could feel his desire with every beat of his heart. Slowly, Sonya lowered herself to her knees and gently kissed his throbbing organ. She could hear him whispering his delight to her as she teased him with her lips once again. Then just as he thought he'd found ecstasy, she took his cock into her mouth and let her tongue demonstrate its fabulous dexterity.
When he thought he would burst, she stopped. He helped her back onto her feet then picked her up and carried her into the master bedroom. Their lips brushed against one another as their clothes hit the floor. Sonya sat on the edge of the bed then pulled him down on top of her. He kissed her lips once again, then her breasts, her belly and then her mons. His hands gently massaged her thighs while his tongue toyed with her clitoris until he sensed she was ready to receive him, then he entered her and thrust himself against her with a newly discovered passion. Suddenly, her body tensed as the inevitable approached. Her fingernails dug into his back like tiny scalpels. Three seconds, four, Five, SIX. Then the wave broke with both of them cumming at the same time. She half screamed, half moaned as the sensation rolled through her body while he felt himself bursting inside her. With each contraction he pushed himself harder against her, and at the end of each thrust, he could feel her tighten her muscles around his shaft and the ripping sensation of her sharp nails slicing into the tender skin of his shoulders.
When the wave passed, they were left floating together on a sea of white satin. He rolled over onto his back and pulled her against him. It was suddenly quiet. Then the sound of breathing once again crept into their consciousness. Breathing, and for her, the sound of a beating heart as she pressed her head against his chest. Then sleep took over.
After about an hour, Sonya got up and refilled their wineglasses, and they began talking again. She looked at him and asked him why he was going to the Emory Conference Center the following evening. In the past, she’d never asked, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to tell her.
“I’ll bet you have another girlfriend waiting for you,” she remarked with a rather indignant tone.
He was a bit taken back by the remark. Was this part of a game? Was she baiting him? Or was she serious?
“Well do you?” she persisted.
“I, ah,” his lips started to move then she slapped him hard across the face, the sting dulled only by the small amount of wine he’d consumed.
“Answer me you bastard!” she demanded, then she struck him again, this time hard enough to draw blood at the corner of his mouth. He felt his head start to spin a bit, then he dropped the wine glass on the soft carpet. A strange tingling sensation crept up his spine, and the colors of the objects in the room seemed somehow brighter and more vibrant. Sonya’s eyes even turned a deep blue.
He grabbed her by the wrist and twisted it as he reached into the pocket of his discarded slacks with his free hand and pulled out a dark Emerson knife. With a deliberate motion of his thumb, the blade slid into the locked position with an audible click. As he pulled her up against himself, he felt his erection growing and pushing into her stomach. He jammed the tip of the blade against her neck, he looked directly into her eyes. The pupils dilated fully as the rush of fear and adrenaline pumped through her veins.
"I should slit your throat," he scowled, "then rip you up the center."
Sonya’s hair and face seemed to glow as he stared at her, and faint squiggly lines meandered across his field of vision. The entoptics were a pleasant distraction, but beneath them, his desire to engage her sexually was overpowering and penetration of her body was suddenly an obsession.
Sonya's eyes were wide as she watched him. She couldn't speak, and after a few moments, she felt him shift, and his left hand took a fistful of hair and jerk her neck back. Then she felt the tip of the blade cutting into her throat and sliding down between her ample breasts. He hesitated for a moment, leaving her expecting the sensation of her own warm, sticky blood oozing from her chest and trickling down across her abdomen. But instead, she just felt the tip continue down over her belly to her pubic bone. She could feel a deep burning sensation that extended from her solar plexus to her groin. Had he ripped her open with a knife so sharp that she couldn't yet feel the pain? She took a last breath, waiting for her guts to spill out of her belly? Her hands slid across her abdomen expecting to feel her intestines wrapping themselves around her arms and legs as gravity pulled them to the ground. But all she felt was the moisture of her own perspiration and the warmth of his breath on her cheek.
After a few moments, he held the blade up in front of her face. There was no blood dripping from its wicked edge; just sweat dampened, cold black steel jutting above a rounded hilt. Then she felt her nipples go instantly hard and her body shook from deep within. Her mouth opened slightly and she moved her lips to the blade, staring into his eyes as her tongue flicked out and slowly caressed the cold steel from the base to the tip. When her tongue reached the tip she smiled at him as her hand moved up and lightly caressed the back his own...she delicately took the blade from his grasp.
Sonya felt its weight, then after a brief pause she leaned forward and brought her lips to his, kissing him softly, softer than was usual for their heated passion. She explored his mouth gently with her tongue and soon he felt the blade against the side of his face. She moved her mouth lower, licking and nibbling on his throat, savoring his scent, feeling his jugular pulse beneath the surface of his smooth skin, and then allowing the blade to lightly caress the flesh his her wake. She slid the flat side of the blade along his ribcage and lower abdomen. She was still shaking as he closed his eyes and reached out to touch her face and stroke her hair. Slowly the edge found its way to the area between his leg and scrotum. He was fully erect, and she dragged the tip of the blade forward along the underside if his penis, then caressed his throbbing member with her fingers. She knelt down and kissed his swollen cock, sliding her warm lips around it. Then she moved the blade to his inner thigh, where his balls normally rested. She took his cock deeper in her throat and looked up into his face as she began to put pressure on the knife, deliberately letting the sharp edge slice into his skin, creating a shallow cut less than an inch long. The blade dragged though the little tear ever so. She felt him shiver and knew it hurt. In fact it stung like crazy, and he could feel a trickle of blood running down to his knee. But at that point it no longer mattered. He pushed her back onto the bed. The knife was still in her hand, but now HE would penetrate her, and the flower of passion would open deep within her, and with excruciating sweetness.
THE NEXT EVENING
Sonya turned onto Clifton Road and stopped briefly in front of the Emory Conference Center and Hotel. Sam McKenna to got out of the car and asked her to meet him in the lobby in an hour. As she sped off, Sam felt a sharp sting in his leg where she had stitched him up. He wanted more of her, and after this quick little job, they would be back together again.
The Emory Center is surrounded by trees and is relatively quiet most of the time. As McKenna approached room 216, he withdrew his little 9mm Glock and attached the silencer. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a passkey. It had been given to him two days before, and he wondered if it had been obtained by the Agency just for this little operation.
The target was a man named Paul Schaffer. He was in Atlanta attending a conference sponsored by the CDC on biological warfare agents. He was a White House aide that had been passing information to the Iraqis concerning the true employer of certain members of the United Nations inspection team that was roaming their country (Iraq) looking for evidence of the manufacture of weapons of mass destruction. He’d been under surveillance for almost a year, but it remained a mystery as to how he was getting the information out. He had made no observed contact with the Iraqi Embassy or any of their own agents, but information leaked only to him was showing up in Baghdad within days of the leak.
The key slid into the lock, and the door opened without a sound. The plush gold carpet had just recently been put in and his footsteps were completely muffled. As he entered though, he could hear two voices. A female was with him. As he peaked around the corner, he saw them on the bed. Schaffer was naked, blindfolded and handcuffed to the head and foot boards. The woman, a petite blonde, straddled him with her back to the door, and he watched her as she slid onto his shaft. She massaged his chest then picked up a black handled knife with a shiny steel blade. She teased him with it, first circling his nipples, then running it along side his throat.
“You like that, Paul?” she asked. “Or should I cut you up a little bit?”
“Oh I like it just fine,” he replied shaking his head slowly in small arcs. “Cut me a bit, but please don’t stop.”
“Paul,” she asked quietly, “have you told anyone about us? I mean anyone?”
“No. Not a soul. It’s our little secret, and I want to keep it that way,” he replied.
She pressed the blade at the 11:00 position on his erect left nipple and sliced diagonally to five o’clock. He pulled tightly on his bindings as blood streamed out and trickled onto the sheet.
“OH GOD, MYSTI,” he cried as he pushed himself up into her as far as he could. “Oh Jesus that hurts!”
“So no body knows about us?” she whispered as she needled the cut with the tip of the blade.
“Nooooooo!” he moaned.
“Oh baby, that’s what I like about you. You’re sooo discrete.” She moved up and down on him a few times, squeezing his cock with her muscles on the upstroke, and relaxing as she slid back down. She leaned over and tasted his blood with the tip of her tongue. Then she felt her own nipples turning rock hard, and she toyed with them as she watched him squirm.
She placed the knife against his sternum and pressed hard against it. She leaned down close to his face and in a throaty whisper she asked, “What about the money, baby? Did you put it where I told you to?” Then she sliced him vertically along the entire length of the bone. Blood flowed out in all directions over his hairless chest, and a small, but growing pool was accumulating on his stomach.
“Oh Jesus, Mysti,” he cried. “I put it in the safety deposit box, just like you said. Oh Jesus, girl. Cut me again. Oh Jesus.” Paul was as hard as a rock and ready to burst.
Sam recognized her. She worked for the Agency and was known for her subtle brutality. “Love ‘em to death” was her unspoken motto. So she was the vehicle to the Israelis. And she was above suspicion because of her position. She had to have been aware of the fact that the Agency was closing in on him, and she was making sure he wouldn’t be able to implicate her.
Sam thought of Sonya and the night before as he raised his gun, aiming at Mysti’s lower back. Paul was feeling the pain all right, but he knew he was feeling something else too. Something irresistible. McKenna felt the stinging in his leg and saw himself in Paul’s place wondering if Sonya could be that extreme.
Just as Paul started cumming, the blonde seductress drove the knife between her lover’s ribs. His body went suddenly rigid as he pulled against the cuffs. Her hand held onto the knife, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed it with all her might. Sam watched as her hips moved against him with a new intensity, milking him as it were. He could hear her gasping, then her body shook as an orgasm consumed her. Her back arched and her head tilted back and turned a bit to the left. The palm of her left hand pressed flat against the nipple of her left breast while the fingers of both hands were splayed out stretched to their farthest extension. “Ohhhh, OOOOOOOhhhhhhh , AHHHHHH,” she gasped as she speared herself on his still erect cock. “Ohhhhhh.”
Sam wanted to kill her as she came, but couldn’t resist his desire to see her face as his bullet struck. When she was spent, he called out her name. With out missing a beat, she turned with as yet unseen gun in hand and fired. He never heard the noise, but he felt a sharp pain in his chest, and as he spun around, he realized what had happened. When he looked up, she was standing by the side of the bed aiming at him. Her breasts were covered with Paul’s blood, and a trickle of creamy cum oozed from between her lightly tanned legs. As the stainless steel cylinder on her .38 started to turn, two muffled pops went off. Mysti doubled over slightly as two red clover leaves appeared on her lower belly just under her navel. The little Smith and Wesson slipped out of her hand and staggered back a step before dropping to her knees. She stared down at ugly little holes in her gut then clutched herself tightly. She could feel the fire burning deep within her. Mysti looked up, then directly at Sam. He could see the tears welling up in her beautiful green eyes, then watched as they overflowed. She coughed hard, and a trickle of blood spilled out over her lip and onto her chin.
“F-finish it,” she cried as she looked toward the door.
Sam turned to look at the door. A tall, narrow figure filled the doorway. It took him a moment to realize it was Sonya holding a .45 Colt Auto with a silencer attached. The muzzle flashed again, sending a bullet through Mysti’s left breast. Her body shook hard, then dropped flat on the floor. Sonya slowly walked across the room looking coldly professional in a short black linen business suit. She stood towering over the fallen woman, watching her drag in ragged breaths. After a moment Sonya slowly slid the tip of one high heeled shoe under the beautiful crumped form and rolled the woman onto her back. The gold ring piercing Mysti’s navel moved up and down with each irregular breath. Sonya crouched down, letting her eyes take in carnage that had ravaged such a perfect body. Reaching down, her slipped a gloved finger through the loop, playing with it lightly for a moment before quickly yanking it out. Mysti’s winced, her face reflected the sudden additional pain she felt as she tried to clutch herself again. Sonya pointed the muzzle of the gun at Mysti's face. As Mysti's eyes stared down the black barrel they reflected the fear that came with the knowledge of certain death. Mysti prepared herself for the final blast and closed her eyes. But instead of an ear shattering blast she merely felt cold steel brushing against her lower lip and running slowly over her chin, down her throat, and lower still. Sonya watched as the weapon worked it's way through the steaks of blood that covered the woman's chest until the barrel was nestled between Mysti's delicate breasts. Sonya's gaze moved to the bloody crater in the woman's left breast, a small frown crossed her face.
She looked into Mysti's eyes, her left hand moving up to softly caress her tear stained face. Mysti stared back. Finally a faint smile crossed Sonya's lips and a split second later two rounds were fired in quick succession, directly into girl's heart. Sonya watched with calm fascination as the light went out of the Mysti's eyes.
She turned and looked down at Sam. He had managed to get himself into a sitting position. “Thanks,” he muttered as he looked up at her. He was puzzled by her presence, but she’d saved his neck, and for now that was all he cared about. “I guess you work for the Agency, too.”
Sonya nodded. “You fucked up, Sam!” she said as she crouched down beside him.
“Tell me about it,” he replied. “Maybe I need to retire.”
“You aren’t the retiring type, Sam. Somehow I can’t see you running around in a motor home or fishing.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he said as he turned to look out the sliding glass door. Taking a bullet made him a loose end. A cardinal had just landed on the rail of the balcony. He thought about what Sonya had just said.
Another muffled pop echoed through the room. The left side of Sam’s head erupted in cloud of shattered bone and gray matter. He slumped to the side, his right hand still touching Sonya’s knee as his last thoughts oozed out onto the carpet.
Sonya slipped Mysti’s gold ring around Sam’s index finger then wiped her prints off the gun and tossed it on the floor. She stood up and walked to the door, glancing back at Sam's corpse. A moment of regret overcame her, she had honestly liked him. She walked out the door and glanced at her watch. It was a little past eight. If she hurried, she could still pick up Max and make it to the theater before the ballet started.