Chapter 17
"Ahhh!", the pain! I'm near to passing out...
"Wrong and wrong! Don't call me Diana or darling!", she shouts angrily, rising above me.
"Call me 'Kikka' - it means mistress of all! And you know what else it means!... Kicker... Would you like another session on the floor?"
"Alright, alright... Kikka!"
The agonising pain is subsiding, as she relaxes her grip on my tender balls.
"Good!
She rolls out of bed and begins stalking around the suite. Naked, she's lithe as a puma... y desenfrenada, rampant!
Coming back, she pulls the quilt off the bed and flicks her fingers at me, with an imperious gesture, indicating that I should lie on the floor. I instantly comply.
"Bend you knees and grab your ankles.... Now pull them back hard and arch your back. Harder! I want your heels under your bum. Harder I said."
My thighs are screaming now. My pelvis is thrust up. Amazingly, I'm rock hard.
She nonchalantly steps over me and takes me into her.
I feel her weight in my straining thighs as her crouch becomes a kneel - a leg outside each of my stretching arms. She's leaning forward, her arms straight, her closed fists embedded in the carpet on either side of my head, looking straight down into my face.
"Now, fuck me hard - like you wanted to this morning!" she demands. I find that I can't do anything, I'm helpless under her weight. She's immobilised me at the same time that she's using me as sex toy for her pleasure, moving to and fro.
"Duty number one: From now on, the sex is on my terms."
"Duty number two is simple 003, you must use your licence to kill..."
"Who?"
"Geraldo of course!" sneering his name. "I want him dead."
Searing pain shoots through my thigh muscles as she comes down hard on me.
"Pay attention!"
She begins talking didactically, like a lawyer coaching a guilty client:
"Geraldo will be back tomorrow morning. Before he leaves, I'll ring him and tell him I met an old friend of his today. This friend was acting mysteriously and asked me to mention some more camera cards - plural! He'll guess that you are the old friend and have found the other cameras. That'll ensure that he accepts your invitation for a secret meeting in the park. You will have left him a map marked with a meeting place in his airport locker. He will come early and prepare to kill you. It will be him or you. So, like a good Boy Scout - be prepared! Take the steak knife from last night's dinner. Attack him without warning. Throw the body over the nearby cliff. Remember to bring the steak knife back."
She wasn't joking! She has it all planned! I try to struggle free: "Oh, good boy - that's nice! Do that again. Now let's go through the plan again."
Geraldo will be back tomorrow morning..."
I'm aching all over and can hardly think. But I realise through the fog that I'm soon to become a killer; or to be killed myself. I have a sinking feeling that it's inevitable, inescapable - like her using me like this.
Will you accept this mission 003? Will you take that meeting?
I nod my head.
"Say it."
"Yes, I'll take that meeting for you mistress Kikka."
"Good!" She says, satisfied, standing up. "Follow me."
I find that it hurts to walk. I stagger to the coffee table. I can't believe everything's back in place, as if this morning never happened. But there's a big envelope on the table.
"In that envelope is a map of the park, sent up by the concierge. And this is a sealed packet of small red sticky dots. Take the map out and write across it: 'meet me here this morning' with this pen I found in your jacket."
I do as I'm told.
"Good boy! Now open the dots and stick one on the map here." She's pointing to a position along the cliff path, about a kilometre further on from where she and I first kissed, only yesterday. "Study this map carefully then fold it and put it back in the envelope, your life depends on it."
I do as I'm told, again. I realise that she hasn't touched a thing herself.
"And now Agent 003, it's time to go back to the bed and revise duty number one."
My Mistress Kikka has me on my back and begins to ride me again: from a walk to a trot; and then to a canter. As she looks down her frown softens to a look of satisfaction and her moans become louder cries of delight; or perhaps conquest? As she reaches a full gallop it's as if it's she who's being murdered.
***
As I'm used, my mind is racing. Something is odd: Kikka means mistress! But she used that name when we first met! Could she have planned this from the beginning? But if I had not stolen that camera, she would not have evidence connecting Geraldo and me. Did she already know that he had hired me? Is that how she knew about James Bond? Was the camera just a bonus? Would she have 'discovered' the clock if I'd said nothing? If I go to this meeting for her, I'll either be dead or at her mercy forever. A steak knife - untraceable after its returned to the hotel's cutlery and washed. That's why she ordered us steak in the room last night! She's even demonstrated how to use it. Is this how she got Geraldo? Is Geraldo 002? Maybe Geraldo's under orders, and following her plan? He couldn't have thought all this up himself. Maybe I'm his replacement, until she tires of me? Or maybe this just her idea of a sexy, fun weekend? Is this all part of her performance art? Have there been others before or during her time with Geraldo? She seems to be expert at this. Will he laugh at me and call 'April Fool' when I go to meet him? Too many possibilities!
After that last orgasm, she climbed off me and fell back happily, apparently satisfied that she's made me hers. I find that I'm proud that, despite being completely worn out, I was able to help my Kikka orgasmo, as my first duty requires.
She's lying beside me again, limp but smiling enigmatically. I realise I don't care what her motivations are. I just want to be her 003, for as long as she'll own me and look after me.
My Kikka's so nice! She's gently stroking me now. She owns me. I just want to serve her now and forever. And to satisfy all her cravings.
"Yes, mistress Kikka... I'll do whatever you want..." I find myself saying, with total sincerity.
She's ecstatic. We're both exhausted.