TASKFORCE

TASKFORCE

A trip to France…Business and pleasure

Part Thirteen

His long awaited vacation has arrived.  It’s time to get away from the everyday bullshit; visit his recent investment across the pond for awhile before getting back to his trade of cleansing the city of its rubbish.  The good fucking news is he’s going to have a travelling companion tagging along.  Demi’s been coerced to accept an offer ‘she can’t refuse’ including traveling as his obedient companion to visit the vineyards of southern France for the next couple weeks on her own quasi work assignment, the emphasis being on ‘obedient’.  More then a subtle hint of the need for his services has also been bandied about while spending some time over there, something about some maybe not so minor and irritating problems that could be handled by his way of doing things.  Thinking that’ll just give him something else to do in his lax time, he doesn’t mind.

As far as Demi, actually, he finds she’s rapidly metamorphosed dramatically since her ill-fated undercover experience at the estate just days before, with her painful and humiliating initiation followed by an immediate, next day meeting behind closed doors with her newspaper’s prominent owner.  Having a couple of his close acquaintances present, even recognizable to her as part of the group that witnessed her treatment, she’s informed they’re both prominent, powerful officials.  The one-way briefing intimidating from the start, her fate’s sealed when they share access to her new and blatant underground triple x videos in her presence.  Explained their obvious legal and even criminal consequences, especially with the young girl, given an unconditional ultimatum, she realizes she can’t refuse and reluctantly agrees to the terms, the first of which is resigning from the paper and writing for another of one of his more discreet publications.  Promised to be fairly compensated when the assignment’s complete along with the promising of the destruction of the videos, she’s to submit a few private articles for their exclusive circle of select members.

The kicker is the second term, much more ominous and nonnegotiable.  She’s advised her initial assignment of articles will be on reporting on the functions of their society located in their wine vineyards in the south of France, a fist hand day to day account if you will on the training of a fresh submissive, with her being that submissive.  And, she’ll be under the tutelage of a certain detective also making the trip, as they emphasize the obedience and submissiveness to him she’s expected to abide by.

Chapter 34

The time’s come, sitting on the transatlantic flight midway over the ocean, her leaning back, restless beside him but now seeming to be that model of obedience, he glances down toward the vast blue water below the sparse clouds under the nearly full moon as his mind drifts over the past few weeks.  The last of the women handled, shipped off to their new obscure destinations, the crimes against both their devastated families will soon be tossed in with the overflowing pile of unsolved files, as they’ll obviously remain.  Now it’s about time for a little break, some R and R.

Glancing over toward her leaning back in her seat, just watching her head tilted away from him on a pillow with the plane dimly lit in the first class section, he smiles at the gesture of the club’s inner circle, his ‘gift’ for the next couple of weeks from them for his appreciated contributions to the society, his very own private submissive to share during the trip.  With a few hours to kill, he thinks, what the fuck.  Already belonging to the mile high club, maybe now’s the time to join the five mile club, he thinks, that’s if there is such a thing.  The plane sparsely filled and the aisle empty, he nudges her arm, taps her hand that’s lying across the armrest between them, might as well keep her busy.

       Groggily turning her head from lack of sleep the past few days, glancing toward him through blurry eyes, he slips his finger toward his lips in a sign to remain silent as he barely rises, slowly glances up and down the aisle toward the closed curtains at either end.  Reaching up behind her head, slipping the pillow further down behind her back, he tilts her forward, forces her chest outward as her hands remain on the armrest.  Another sign with his finger, this time across her lips, he slowly unbuttons the top button of her white silk blouse.  Watching her eyes locking on his fingers as her head tilts back against the seat, he slips his hand across hers on the arm rest, motioning for her hands to remain there.  Fingers again across her blouse, he gently unbuttons the second button, the third and a forth.  Watching her chest slowly rise, lower as the blouse separates across her French cut bra, noticing her fingers gripping the armrests even tighter, slipping his hand between the silk material and bottom of the lace material, he lifts upward, fully exposing the left cup.  Her head tilting hesitantly toward the aisle, back toward his hand, he slides his fingers inside the bra, tweaks her stretching areola between his forefinger and thumb and tugs her breast upward, outward as he twists.  Her back arching as she gently moans, her breast bared, he releases her puckered nipple, cups the firm globe, adjusts it above the stretched brassiere and outside her spread blouse.  Her bare breast totally exposed, it shimmers from the faint light of the moon reflecting off the portal.

       Cupping, melding her breast, tweaking the nipple as she remains virtually motionless, silent, he leans closer to her ear, whispering, nodding while still manipulating the bare globe, his words causing her to glance apprehensively back and forth down the empty aisle.  A momentary hesitation, she slips her right hand up across the lace cup covering her right breast and tugs it downward while arching her back further out from the seat.  Exposing her other breast, slipping the silk blouse further apart, down toward her ribcage, her fingers reluctantly begin tweaking that freshly exposed nipple.  Closing her eyes, tilting her head back against the chair’s headrest, she hesitantly but obediently follows his instructions, follows his lead  as she awkwardly  mimics the manipulations of his fingers on her other breast, tweaking, pinching, massaging, just as he’s suggested for her to do, appearing just a tad harsher even.

       Leaning back himself, head resting, turned comfortably toward her; he watches the quivering silhouette of her arched bare chest glisten in the shadows beneath their mixed pair of roving hands.  Pressing down, feeling the firmness of her globular mound thrusting outward, seeing just the faintest signs of the welt’s remnants from her lashings just a few days before, he’s impressed she’s become so submissive in so short of time as he slides his fingers from across her breast to up behind her neck, turning her eyes toward his crotch while using his other hand to carefully unzip his trousers.  Her lips are looking pretty fucking tempting too.            

Chapter 35        

       Leaving the plane, not its memories, he lets the young, dark toned chauffeur carry and load the luggage inside the trunk of the impressive Bentley limousine parked and waiting in front of the terminal.  Demi’s bra and panties still stuffed in his pants pocket from the overnight intermingling above the Atlantic, he still thinks she looks rather attractive after cleaning up the last half hour of the flight in the woman’s restroom.  Minimal makeup, her hair drawn strictly back from her face and wrapped behind her head in a harried but respectively formed bun, jacketless, the sheer silk blouse, brilliant white, contrasts nicely with her tanned complexion.  Clinging to her svelte body, it virtually forms to her firm breasts, not overly large but with ideal areolas and nipples, actually the kind that seem to make up for lack of abundant size.  Her black leather short skirt also tight, mid thigh, her fingers seem to reflexively tug at its edges as if trying to stretch them a little further down as they walk amongst the number of people using the concourse.  Four inch matching patent leather heels give the impression of her legs appearing impressively long, thoroughbred sleek even.

       Watching the chauffeur help her into the passenger side, smiling at the dumb fuck paying more attention to her almost bared ass as she bends across the seat more then anything else, he figures he may as well give him a little show on the way to the vineyards, after all, from the looks of the maps, it’s a good two, three hour drive through the countryside.  Sliding in next to her, leaning over her shoulder, whispering toward her ear, a quiet list of orders are given as the chauffeur steps around to load the trunk before positioning himself behind the wheel.   A couple nods of her head, even a hesitant groan or two during the one way conversation and flipping down the middle jump seat, she obediently climbs across it to face forward, toward the glass partition between the driver and rear seats.  Even while straddling, positioning herself, the Bentley slowly pulls from the curb.

Leaning well back into the leather seat next to the passenger window, out of sight from the outside but still able to reach out and touch her, he can see the reflection of the driver’s eyes in the limo’s rear view mirror as its adjusted for a perfect angle to watch what’s going on, her.  Flipping the power buttons to the rear door windows, lowering both, he mutters.  “Okay… Now.”  A soft command, almost a whisper, she’s given a gentle nudge on the back side of the skin tight skirt.

Again, just the slightest of a hesitation, she reaches down toward the bottom of her blouse and slowly starts up the row of a half dozen buttons as the limo passes by groups of pedestrians crossing back and forth,  more then a couple getting a glance inside at her.  Unfastening, slowly spreading the virtually translucent blouse as she works her way upward one button at a time, she also arches her back exposing her navel, her flat stomach just above the hem of her skirt.  The blouse spreading across her flattening breasts beneath her hands, just a couple buttons left, she reaches up and unbuttons the top one as she bows her shoulders back, the blouse stretching away, the final button tugging, stretching between her spreading nipples, the white silk material appearing either ready to rip or tear off that last button.

Lowering her hands, unfastening the side of her skirt,  raising her hips while shuffling on the jump seat, her breasts bounce, a nipple poking out from the stretching blouse as she slips the hem of the skirt down across her bare hips, down past her knees.  Slipping the skirt down off one heel, the other, she straightens, spreads her naked thighs back across the clinging warm leather, centering herself.  Gently swaying with the motion of the limo as it slowly maneuvers through the parking area, the mingling pedestrians, she glances down toward the remaining button as she arches her chest outward, slowly fingering, finally flipping it apart.  Letting her breasts jaunt outward as they cling to the fluttering material by the nubs of her hardening nipples, arching her arms back as her thighs part even wider, she lets the blouse slide down off her bare shoulders, clinging to the globular sides of her naked breasts swaying apart as the fluttering blouse drops down across her wrists behind her.

Flushing, staring straight ahead into the mirror, her eyes momentarily connects directly with the chauffeur’s taking in her surreal image as he stops in the traffic.  People crossing in front, in back, stepping between the mounting jam of vehicles get a look, some even seeming to stop, turn and even point into the open windows, staring toward the shocking, but erotic sight of her naked body mounted, straddling across the jump seat facing forward inside of the Bentley.  Finally, the limousine pulls away from the gawking, vocal crowd, onto the highway and toward the estate as the windows roll quietly upward.

A matter of moments, the ride now smoother, feeling her butt cheek unexpectedly pinched, giving a reflexive jerk, she arches herself forward, fully exposed to the eyes again in the mirror as her thighs grip the edges of the leather seat.  Her naked body already spread-eagled, her breasts jaunting outward, spreading across her quivering chest, a second pinch and she bows her body even further, revealing everything she has to reveal as she feels her blouse also being slid on down past her hands.     

Leaning back, actually appreciating her obvious humiliation as she straddles the seat, assuming her pose facing forward as the chauffeur’s eyes are on her more then the road, he glances over her nakedness as she attempts to constantly adjust to the swaying motions of the limo, her hands gripping palms down on the rear of the jump seat behind her spread butt cheeks as her body contorts, sways.  Realizing she’s to be used anyway he desires; he thinks just how damn enjoyable this vacation’s going to be.  If she only knew all the dark secrets, he smiles to himself; on the other hand, he’s not going to treat her like the other sluts, she’s just going to be for his personal amusement for awhile, help break her in for the exclusive club he’s become quite the center of attention for.  Various degrees of pain, that’s for fucking sure, but mainly humiliation, nothing physically severe or permanent, but more in step with how the Mistress abuses her sub missives.  After all, Demi is a rarity for him, not a criminal by any means.  Just too bad for her that she’s got that conniving cunt streak in her, and got on his wrong side, and that certainly ain’t fucking hard to do!  She can just keep that pose for awhile, until they arrive at the vineyard.

A leisurely drive, leaving the main highway, he’s impressed with the rural terrain, the winding roads, finally the guard shack at the gated entrance to the estate.  Watching the long sleeved coated men with shotguns slinged with straps across their shoulders, he smirks at the thought that a ghetto must be close by.  Entering the secured grounds, winding through the vineyards with what seems like acres of real grapes he realizes, for Christ sake, they really do make wine over here.

The Chateau coming into view, not an imitation, the real deal, its more like a fortress, though immaculate with the gardeners doing their thing, the acres of shrubs, hedges perfectly trimmed, shaped along the stone laid walkways, fountains.  Slowing, parking along the veranda in front of the entrance fit for a five star hotel, a doorman steps to the side of the Bentley, opens the door.  Stepping out toward the curb, watching the chauffeur step around to the popped trunk, he turns and watches Demi sliding out, head down, still totally naked except for her stilettos.

Almost appearing bowlegged from the long ride straddling the jump seat, glancing toward him, down toward her feet, she arches her shoulders back, lets her hands lay across her thighs palms out as instructed toward the end of the ride.  Bare breasts gently rising, lowering with each measured breath as she lets her lips part, her flushed face contrasts with the rest of her tanned body glistening in the sunlight as a number of the hired help pause and watch.

Fuck, she learns quick, he thinks as he holds back a grin, really enjoying her obvious humiliation as he watches her remaining virtually motionless with the exception of her breasts slightly swaying and just a tremor rippling up her thighs as she stands on the uneven stone footing beneath her.  Glancing toward the doorman, seeing the meticulous woman stepping out the doorway, he does a second take as she speaks.

“Welcome………… Don’t look so surprised!”

The tone of the voice even eerily familiar, but erotic in a way with its obvious French accent, he again glances toward the Bentley, back toward her as she steps toward him.

“We’re identical… In practically every way.”  She smiles as she reaches out a hand.  “She takes care of the colony while I handle this side of the Atlantic.”  Shaking his hand, a gleam, a piercing stare and she continues.  “Twins… And yes… She’s told me so much about you!... I’m fascinated to see the man who… Well… Let’s just say, has shown her pleasures she’s never experienced before!... Yet… Can also anger her so easily!”

Holy fuck, the Mistress has a twin, he thinks, amazed as he grips her hand, even senses her same unique fragrance.  “Let me guess… You’re left handed?”  He asks as her eyes narrow with an inquisitive smile.

“Well… Yes… How’d you know?”

“Just a hunch… An old myth about identical twins mirroring one another… Your sister’s right handed… You’re left… So with that being said… She’s kinda’ of on the Dykish side!... You?….”

“I guess then we’re not identical in two different areas then!”  She smiles as she gives him a slight peck on the cheek, lifts the back of his hand toward her substantial chest.  “Then again we are so alike in other areas… And by the way… She’s already warned me you’re such an… How should I discreetly say it?... Such an arrogant asshole!”

“Well… Thank her for me the next time you talk to her.”  He smiles as he lets the back of his hand brush firmly across her breast before twisting his wrist, momentarily cupping the firm melon.  “You’re right… There are similarities.”

Stepping past him toward Demi, she smiles.  “So… This is your personal assistant we’re suppose to help train, huh?”  Glancing her up and down as she’s remained stationary, she lets the back of her hand glide across Demi’s left breast, it’s flattened nipple as she adds.  “Looks like you don’t give her much of a clothing allowance… Nice shoes though.”

“She’s mine for the duration of the vacation… Yeh… To be trained for the society by you, too.”  He answers as he steps between them.  “New to her lifestyle… Needs some training… And I’m sure I’ve brought her to just the right person to help while we’re over here!”

“Certainly.”  She smiles.  “Let me have someone show her to her quarters adjacent to yours so she can refresh while I take you a nice little tour to view our little paradise… Then if it’s mutually agreeable with you… After dinner later this evening, we can start on her right away and I can impress you with my skills administering a nice little workout across those breasts standing out so nicely there for us to admire… And we won’t forget that tight looking little cunt too!”  She adds, tapping Demi’s shaven pubic area, glancing back toward him.  “You’ll be welcome to compare me to my sister.”  Glancing, nodding toward the help, back toward Demi, she turns toward the chateau.  “They’ll take her from here… Come with me… Okay?”

“That’ll work… Hopefully, I’ll get to compare you in more ways then one.”  He smiles toward the Mistress, following her.

Strolling into the Chateaux, she leads him through the first floor foyer, the vast banquet room, gathering rooms.  Glancing up the impressive staircase, her brief descriptions of the layout of the upper stories of the main house quickly explained, its corridors leading to separate wings of suites for the guests.  While down below, the other chambers in the basement, the sub basement, she walks with him as they pass antiques, masterful paintings, with the exquisite furniture filling the vast spaces leading to its ominous entryway.

“We like giving our guests, our club members the best atmosphere possible; after all, they do contribute unimaginable sums to our foundation.”  She explains.  “In return, they receive ample compensation with enormous latitude in fulfilling their pleasures… To a degree that is.”  Staring down past the stairway as they start down, she adds.  “The passageways divide below the first level… Separate areas for the nationalities of our sub missives… Seems the more popular group at the moment is the young American girls.”  Glancing toward him, a flashing smile, she adds.  “Seems Americans are feistier… Spunkier… More of a challenge to initially break in for our guests.”

A quick glance around the different hallways leading in different directions, starting down the other flight of stairs, she continues.  “Then of course, the old wine cellars…  Half their space is already converted into the various chambers, themes for our guests… From small isolated discipline cells to the lavish chamber that’ll hold quite a few at a time for our exhibitions.”

A slow stroll past the various rooms, up another flight of stairs, they’re again on the first floor.  Stepping into the rear gardens of the estate, a brief glimpse of the other outbuildings, servant’s quarters all meticulously maintained, she stops, turns and faces him.  Glancing around the grounds, gripping his hand, she stares into his eyes with a different look, almost vulnerable.  “I understand you have a unique way of handling certain situations… I think it’s even been mentioned to you that we may need the service of your skills so to speak… I’d certainly be grateful... And would want to show my appreciation………….”

Glancing around the momentarily vacant grounds himself, then into her eyes, he butts in.  “It’s been discussed… And yes, I’m certainly capable of helping.”  Fucking right, he thinks as he feels her warm grip as she leans against him, her breasts pressing across his chest as she gives him an appreciative hug.  Figuring she’ll show her appreciation all right… Down on her fucking hands and knees, looking up with her mouth open, her legs apart, he’ll show her more then just one of his skills.

“Good… Then we can discuss that little matter later… Maybe in the morning?”  She smiles as she leans back, grips his hand to lead him.  “But for now then.”  She speaks in her delicious French accent.  “Just what can I personally do to help you relax for awhile?… Your trip must have exhausted you… Come with me.”      

End Part 13