Title: Blues in the Night

Author/Pseudonym: Tinnean

Fandom: La Femme Nikita

Pairing: Hillinger/f; Birkoff/f; Operations/f; ?/f

Rating: NC-17

Status: New/Complete

Archive: yes, just let me know

E-mail for feedback: Tinnean@aol.com

Series/sequel: not really, these characters just meander in and out of my universe.

Other website: http://www.geocities.com/silkntin/warning.htm

Disclaimers: These great characters belong to USA Network and Warner Bros., though we all know they don't deserve them. However, Georgia, Soot and Genesee are my girls.

Notes: This is just a puff piece that kind of got out of hand.

Summary: There's some down time for the hardworking operatives of Section One and everyone is getting laid. Everyone except...

Warning: AU. Underage m/f consenual sex. Although this story contains no slash, other forms of sexual gratification are explored. If white bread sex is your cup of tea, this story won't be.


Blues in the Night
by Tinnean

Greg Hillinger, up and coming comm op at Section, was stretched out on his bed, leaning back against the pillows, calmly observing his shod feet. His witch of a mother would have had a cow about it she could have seen him. She was always on his butt about something inconsequential like that. Who gave a rat's ass if his shoes messed up the bedspread?

Aiming the remote at the TV he thumbed it on. Then he touched a button on the control that Section had no idea was there. Killing the security cams, he turned the set on to channel 185, and prepared to be turned on himself.

****

Channel 185 was something he had inadvertently stumbled upon after a particularly annoying late night shift. Somehow, the plot he had been hatching against Birkoff had backfired, and *he* had taken the heat for it. Operations had reamed him out, but good, and Birkoff had stood smirking behind him.

Sulking in his quarters at Section, he had been restlessly channel surfing when a flash of skin had caught his eye and halted his thumb. And his eyes had grown huge.

There on the screen in front of him, two men and a woman were 'doing it'. Heady stuff for an adolescent! Mouth agape, he pulled up a chair and sat closely studying what was going on. One of the guys was laying on the bed, the woman bent over him, his impossibly huge schlong in her mouth, and he was squeezing her tits. The other guy was pounding away at her from behind, and it was only as the camera zoomed in that he realized she was getting it in the ass!

Almost unable to catch his breath, he found himself rubbing his hand against the hardness in his jeans. As the action on TV got more and more graphic, Greg discovered that the stimulation his hand was providing over his clothes was not enough.

A quick glance at the door revealed it to be locked. He kicked off his shoes and wriggled his toes in feverish excitement. Then he unsnapped his jeans and lowered the zipper, reaching in through his shorts to stroke his bare flesh.

He was hot and hard, and a drop of moisture beaded on the tip of his erection. Freeing himself from his jeans, he leaned back, his eyes fastened unseeing on the TV. His fingers cupped and fondled and probed his body. But it still wasn't enough! Scooting his butt forward, he lowered his jeans to his ankles and propped his feet up on the chair. One hand was busy stroking his arousal, bringing him closer and closer to climax. A daring thought had him wetting a finger and pressing it against the ring of muscle that was his anal sphincter.

The feeling as his finger entered that forbidden spot was so electrifying that a soft moan escaped his lips. Vigorously he began to explore this uncharted territory as he continued stroking his shaft.

A litany of sex words issued from his throat as he thrust his intruding finger fiercely into his butt. His hand, soft and warm as befit a comm operative, fisted his cock harder and faster.

With a keening whine, he began spilling himself as an overwhelming orgasm consumed him. Breathless, he almost toppled from the chair, and reluctantly removed the finger that had been pleasuring his tight butt. His feet landed on the floor with a thud and he sat with his head thrown back, sucking in oxygen and shuddering in the aftermath.

Kicking off his jeans, he had gone into the tiny bath to clean himself up. But that night held the lure of the unusual, and he found himself licking curiously at fingers that had held his erection.

He found that he liked his own taste.

And having always been a nimble lad, he wondered if it was possible to contort himself enough so that he could take his own cock into his mouth and suck himself off.

Blues in the Night
Part 2

Up in the Tower, Operations was on a tear. Striding around the elegant table that Madeline had set for a cozy dinner for two, he waved the pages in his hand.

"Goddamn it, Madeline! How can you sit there so calmly, when these damned operatives are going to bankrupt us?!"

Pouring a glass of white wine to complement the meal she had ordered for them, Madeline pressed it into his hand and removed the offending papers.

"Sit down, Paul, and tell me what this is all about."

He ignored her suggestion and continued to stalk the room, downing healthy swigs from his glass. Shrugging, she took her own seat opposite his, crossing her silk-clad legs and scanning the information on the sheets. Raising a carefully penciled eyebrow, she cast a disconcerted glance his way. "The cable bill? You are this upset by the cable bill??"

"Not just the bill," he tried to justify himself. "Look at the amount they've run up on the adult movie channel! Christ, I didn't even know we had that option! George is going to have my ass in a sling for not keeping better control of my operatives! And to top it off, when I called to have those charges removed from the bill, because, obviously, no one here would watch such things, I was informed, none too sweetly, that someone here was indeed watching these movies, and quite frequently, I might add!"

Madeline rubbed her upper lip very, very hard. If she hadn't, she would have burst into laughter at Operations' outraged expression. He was so like a father disbelieving his children could possibly have an interest in sex.

"So, Paul, have you been able to discover who has been tuning in to this disgusting stuff?"

Huffing moodily, he threw himself into his chair. "Well, I've got it narrowed down to Walter and....Walter."

And Madeline did laugh. "Are you going to approach him about this Paul?"

He sent her a sour look. "The man is old enough to be my father! Almost. How can I call him on this?"

"Suppose you just ask him if he's been watching a lot of pay TV lately, and if, perhaps, he could chip in something toward the bill?"

"Oh right, and look like a total idiot while I'm about it! No, I've got a better idea. I want you to set your pet snoop after him. Tell her I need to know how Walter spends his spare time."

Madeline didn't look too happy now. "I thought you were finished with her?"

Operations had the audacity to look amazed. "I'm having dinner here with you tonight, aren't I?" he asked, a non-response if ever there was one. And the fact that he had not answered her question did not escape Madeline's attention.

"I have a new operative I'd like to try out, if you don't mind. Her name is Georgia, and she's quite the sharp little tool in our shed."

Operations grunted as he sliced into the fish dish before him. Chewing thoughtfully, he decided not to push Madeline further that evening. He had no further use for her body, having found her pet snoop to be much more to his liking. *She* was not averse to the kinky games he seemed to get off on more and more. The thought of playing some of them with Madeline quite frankly left his johnson limp.

"Very well, Madeline. Tell Georgia to keep Walter under surveillance. And keep me posted! This kind of abuse of Section resources will not be tolerated!"

Blues in the Night
Part 3

Georgia definitely was one of the sharper tools in the shed. A valentine op who had just recently completed her training, she had more than qualified before ever being recruited by Section One.

Not yet out of her teens, she was an anomoly, an amoral sociopath from a family that was comfortably off, had no major dysfunctions and actually liked each other.

Except for Georgia, whom they could not understand. A baby Messalina, she had seduced the little boy next door when she was nine and he was ten, cornering him in his playroom and unzipping his fly. She had fondled him for a moment, then brought his little willie into the light of day. Falling to her knees before him, she had taken him in her mouth.

The boy fainted from the pleasure. She had him neatly tucked away before she ran to get help for him, never revealing that she was the cause of his swoon.

From Messalina she graduated to Lolita, making several of her male middle school teachers decidedly nervous, and becoming the darling of her gym teachers. Her clothes were never overtly seductive, but the way she wore them was, and many an eye, female as well as male, was drawn to her as she sauntered through the halls.

She went through a period where she allowed herself to be seduced by males or females and learned much about what pleasured her and what pleasured her partners. By the time she was fifteen, she had a number of lovers who were more than willing to shower expensive gifts on her, which she took as her due.

Georgia came to Oversight's notice when she became the flavor of the month of a known Middle Eastern terrorist who enlarged her knowledge of the exquisitely fine line between pleasure and pain. She embraced his teachings so wholeheartedly that he in turn became enslaved by her.

When Section One brought him down, they had the option of taking Georgia into their fold, which Madeline did with alacrity. There was surprisingly little the new valentine op didn't know in the way of manipulating a sex object, so her training emphasized self-defense. She liked the hand to hand aspect of it so well, that she succeeded in taking each of her instructors to her bed.

She had already been sent out on two successful missions, and having been cleared for some down time, now set out to see what else Section had to offer.

It wasn't long before she cast her enticing gaze on the senior level 5 cold op. However, before she could put any moves on him, he let her know, in no uncertain terms, that if she ever came on to him he would quite simply kill her. This was said in his soft voice, with no heat, no anger, just the unvarnished truth. Which left her impressed and a little in love with him.

So she was at loose ends when she was called to Madeline's office. To Madeline's unending surprise, the girl was dressed quite sedately in jeans and a tank top, although the jeans could have been painted on and the tank top hugged her voluptuous young figure lovingly.

"I understand you have some free time coming to you, Georgia. I have a task I'd like you to undertake. You will, of course, be compensated in the usual fashion..."

The girl's eyes lit up.

"...with additional down time at its completion."

Her interest dwindled. Madeline smiled grimly. Never mind Nikita and Michael; here was a force to be reckoned with. If she should ever decide to overthrow the powers that be at Section, she would have all the male operatives firmly behind her, and probably half of the female ones as well!

"I need you to keep an unobtrusive eye on Walter, the senior weapons operative. Spend time with him; see what he does, where he goes. Observe the kind of movies he's watching."

Georgia's mouth dropped open. "You want me to spend time with him just to check out his taste in videos?" she asked, incredulous.

"It goes a little deeper than that, missy! This order has come down from Operations himself. You would be wise to consider that. I assume you have no problem with dating an older man?"

"Do I get to fuck him?" Georgia retorted.

Madeline's lips tightened. This one enjoyed her work entirely too much. The psych op resolved to keep a close eye on her. If cancellation became necessary, she knew just the operative to handle it.

The male half of the team known as the 'torture twins', Wye would have no compunction in taking her out. And he was so devoted to his female counterpart, Exx, that Madeline didn't fear her teenage Madonna would be able to get to him.

If Madeline had known that Georgia had already considered Wye as a playmate, she would have been dismayed.

If she realized that Georgia had dismissed him as being too stodgy, she would have laughed with relief.

Of course, if Exx had been aware of the path the girl's mind had taken, she would merely have smiled.

And then she would have canceled her.


Blues in the Night
Part 4

Georgia left Madeline's office armed with the knowledge that at this time of day, Walter would most likely be at the commissary tanking up on more caffeine, and maybe a greasy burger. The thought that some people could actually put dead animal flesh in their mouths nauseated her.

She had worked with Walter when she had first been brought to Section, but since, as a valentine op she would have little recourse to weaponry, her time with him had been perfunctory at best. And since she was already working on getting one of her martial arts instructors into her bed, she had not paid much attention to the older operative, save to give him passing consideration as a possible future lover.

Georgia paused in the doorway of the commissary, scanning the tables for the sight of a bandana-quoiffed head. Walter sat by himself, cradling a cup of Section's atrocious coffee in his work-roughed hands, gazing off into space.

Whatever he was thinking was not bringing him any pleasure. If ever a man was looking disgruntled, it was Walter.

Curious, in spite of herself, Georgia approached him and eased her luscious tush into the seat opposite his. "Walter. I hope you don't mind me joining you?"

Walter came back to reality with a jolt to find a most tempting morsel of femininity facing him.

"Georgia!" A crooked grin kicked up the corner of his mouth. "You were on my mind!"

The valentine op had to consciously refrain from rolling her eyes. This was a line she heard more frequently than she liked. What was it about the older generation and Ray Charles?

Stifling a sigh, she pasted a flirtatious smile upon her lips and fluttered her long, long lashes at him.

Walter was nobody's fool. "Georgia, you've never been interested in me before. Why are you coming on to me now?" he demanded.

She reached out to delicately stroke her fingertips along the back of his hand. "Aren't I allowed to expand my circle of ... friends, Wally?"

Walter choked on the mouthful of coffee he had just taken. "Wally?" he repeated. "*Wally*? Listen, little girl, no one, but *no one* calls me Wally!"

Her eyes lowered coyly. "Not even me, Wal...ter?"

Despite himself, Walter felt his ... interest stirring. Deciding to push her, to see how far she was willing to go, he turned his hand under hers and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. "It's...kind of crowded in here, don't you think? Care to go someplace more private?"

She smiled, revealing sharp white teeth. "Sure Wal...ter. Wherever you'd like." A tingle of excitement centered in her core, the feeling she always got when an eminent conquest rose up to challenge her. Her eyes never leaving Walter's, she ran her pointed little tongue over her lips, leaving a sheen of moisture glistening there.

Walter had to remind himself that in spite of her age, the girl before him was an experienced valentine op, whose expertise had far exceeded what Section felt was adequate for their entry level operatives. Although she was technically still a recruit, it was bruited about that she was already in line for a promotion to level 4!

Walter seized her wrist and dragged her behind him as he hurried from the commissary.

Running straight into Birkoff. Literally.

Blues in the Night
Part 5

"Jesus! Seymour, watch where you're going!"

Birkoff's eyes flickered between his friend and the valentine op he was hauling along behind him. "Uhhh, Walter, I need to talk to you."

"Later, Seymour. Later!"

"Walter, this is really important!" Again his eyes bounced restlessly between the two.

Walter finally got the point. "Would you mind waiting for me just a second, sweet thing?" he asked Georgia.

Georgia was not happy about the interruption. When she was hunting she hated anything coming between her and her quarry. Still, unable to afford alienating Walter with a show of temper, she forced a gracious smile and reluctantly found a seat out of earshot.

"Walter, are you out of your freakin' mind? This woman is poison! Do you know how many operatives she's gone through already?"

"Listen, Birkoff: You're not my mother! I'll see who I want, when I want!" Walter was about to turn back to Georgia when his young friend grabbed his arm.

"Walter, Madeline is siccing her on you! Something's going on and Operations suspects you of having a hand in it!"

"What?" Walter was outraged. Hustling Birkoff back to his workshop, he left a petulant Georgia staring after them nonplused. First Michael, now Walter. Was she losing her touch?

She flashed a dazzling smile at an unsuspecting operative who was just passing by. He tripped over his own feet and the loaded tray he carried spilled to the floor. Content that her powers were still to be reckoned with, she smiled complacently and retired to her own quarters to plan her campaign to bring Walter to his knees.

****

Her quarters were in that part of Section where new recruits were housed. Just a corridor over was where the more agoraphobic operatives who preferred the confines of Section kept their rooms.

She had often passed those doors. That was where Birkoff stayed. And that other comm op, Hillinger.

Georgia liked the looks of Hillinger. He reminded her of the first little boy she had seduced. She had never again gotten the feeling of power that had overtaken her when she had caused him to swoon, although she had searched for it endlessly. The thought of taking Hillinger into her mouth caused her to actually grow hot and moist.

On a sudden impulse, she turned down his corridor and found his door. She was about to knock on it, when hoarse whispers filtered through the door. Pressing her ear against it, she heard the unmistakable sounds of passion: flesh slapping wetly against flesh, whimpers, moans.

Her own excitement mounting, she licked her lips and tapped lightly on the door. "Hillinger? Greg? Can I come in?" The room became suddenly silent.

Greg Hillinger opened the door. He was completely dressed, she saw to her disappointment, although his face was slightly flushed and his hair was tousled.

"What do you want?" he scowled at her.

"Who's in there with you, Greg?" she asked curiously.

"No one!" he spluttered. Then he recognized her. "Oh. You're Georgia, aren't you?" He laughed shortly. "You were on my mind!"

"Geez Louise!" Georgia couldn't take it anymore. "Is that all you guys can think of as a pick up line?" Not really considering Hillinger as worthy of conquest, she didn't mind if he saw the real her. She had just wanted to play with him a little, but now she wasn't quite sure.

"No, seriously!" Greg averred. "Come see!"

He pulled her into his rooms and locked the door. The sound on his TV had been muted, but now he restored the volume. Georgia couldn't take her eyes off the small screen. On it, in full, glorious color, was one of the tapes that had been made of her at the start of her training. She felt a flush mount her cheeks and she stepped closer, mesmerized by the sight of her seated on her mentor's lap, facing away from him, caressing her own breasts as he pumped away inside her.

Wide-eyed, she dragged her gaze back to Hillinger's avid face. "How did you get this? I thought they were supposed to be destroyed when training was finished!"

He smirked at her. "Who do you think got elected to wipe out the tapes?"

Her breath sucked in. "And you defied Section by keeping them?"

"My mama didn't raise no fools!" he told her scornfully. "Of course I erased them." Then he spoiled his contemptuous air by adding, "After I made copies!"

"And did you share these copies with all your friends?" she asked breathlessly, unbearably aroused by the thought of all the men in Section One seeing her do what she did best.

"Of course not! Do you think I'm some kind of a sleaze?' He tried to sound righteous. "And besides, I don't have any friends," he concluded in a small voice.

Georgia's fingers went to the hem of the tank top she wore. Grasping it firmly, she swept it off her head, leaving her breasts naked to Hillinger's stunned eyes.

"Georgia!" he whispered through dry lips, "What are you doing?"

"Have you ever made love, Greggie? Have you ever put it into a woman? Have you ever sucked her tits? Have you ever...?"

"Shit!" Hillinger swore. "And I'm not going to now! You just made me come!"

Eyes fever-bright, Georgia took him into the bathroom and opened his jeans. Running a washcloth under warm water, she gently cleaned him off and then dried him. Throwing the used cloth into the sink, she began unbuttoning Hillinger's shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. Rubbing her breasts against the fine sprinkling of hair that was just beginning to cover his chest, Georgia began the task of rousing the young man to readiness again.

Threading her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, she tugged his head down and ground her mouth against his. Nipping and biting, her attack took Hillinger's breath away, and as his lips parted to gulp in more air, she took advantage of that act to slide her tongue into his mouth. Teasing Hillinger's tongue, she lapped daintily at it, laughing smugly as she felt him growing hard against her abdomen.

Her hands smoothed down his body, pushing his jeans down and following them with her mouth. Stinging kisses punished his flat male nipples; her pointed tongue delved into his navel, then licked a path through the thatch of brown hair that arrowed to the arousal that was clamoring for her attention.

Dropping to her knees, she taunted him by running her tongue along his thighs, deliberately avoiding his erection. Mad with desire, Hillinger wound his fingers in her hair and tugged her mouth where he wanted it.

Willingly she engulfed the turgid male flesh with her warm, wet mouth, lightly letting him feel her teeth. Drawing back so only the tip remained encircled by her lips, she reversed the journey until her face was pressed against his groin.

Greg leaned back against the vanity, his hands urging her to go faster, soft moans spilling from him.

"Do you want to come in my mouth, Greg? Do you want me to swallow everything you can give me?"

And Hillinger realized why she was such an excellent valentine op. "Yes!" he cried. "I want you to.... I want to..." And then he was pouring himself into her willing mouth, his hips jerking convulsively as Georgia suckled him until his legs gave way under him.

His lungs working like a bellows, Greg sat with his legs sprawled out, his head flung back. Georgia placed his hands on her naked breasts and he gave a short laugh. "Just...just let me catch my breath, babe. That was incredible!"

"Yes, I am, aren't I?"

He opened his eyes and grinned at her. "Want me to make it worth your while?"

Men had promised her that before. "Sure, baby. Sure. Whatever you want to do," she said negligently.

"Whatever I want to do?" he repeated. "You'll let me do whatever I want to?"

Wondering uneasily what she had unleashed, she nodded agreement.

Greg leaned close to her. "Then I'm going to peel down these very tight jeans. I'm going to leave them around your ankles for now; maybe later I'll let you take them off. But I'm going to put you over my knee." Taking her by the hand, he led her into his bedroom and suited actions to words.

"Then I'm going to pet your delectable derriere."

Georgia liked the feel on his hand on her buttocks. He separated them, and his fingers began exploring the cleft between. She liked the feel of that too. Tingles beginning at her nipples speared down toward her core, and she wriggled voluptuously. "More, Greg; I want to feel more!"

He slid a finger into her and coated it with her natural lubrication. Then, to her surprise, he touched the smaller opening, insinuating his finger past the tight ring of muscle, pushing it in deeper and deeper.

"Do you like this too, Georgia? It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Noooo!" she moaned, excitement tightening her nipples, which stabbed at Greg's hard thighs.

"Good. Because in a few minutes I'm going to replace my finger with my cock. And I'm going to fuck your ass. You'll like that, won't you Georgia? You'll like having a hard cock in your ass!"

"Oh, yesssss!" And grinding herself against his hand, she had a shattering climax.

Gently, he removed his finger and laid her flat on his bed. Lubricating an erection that was almost painful, he pulled her up onto her knees and parted her buttocks. Placing himself in position, he began pushing his way into her. While one hand toyed with her nipples, the other stroked the tiny bundle of nerves at the top of her femininity. She demanded it hot and hard, and he gave it to her that way.

All too soon he began pouring himself into her, while her own essence coated his fingers. She collapsed under him, and he rolled onto his side, his hand firm on her flat abdomen, wanting to keep her snugly joined to him for as long as possible.

With a start, he felt her licking the fingers that had stroked her to a mindshattering climax. And realized he had found a soulmate.

Blues in the Night
Part 6

Walter was not a happy camper. He had come *this close* to sampling the latest valentine op on Section's roster, and that opportunity was dead in the water, thanks to Birkoff's interference. He stalked around his workshop like a caged jungle cat.

"Aw, hell, Seymour. Are you sure? She's such a cute little thing!"

Birkoff put his hand tentatively on Walter's shoulder. Although they were friends, when the older operative was feeling a little...anxious, he could be decidedly dangerous. Backing up a step, he gave the munitions op room to continue his pacing.

"Walter, she's *not* a cute little thing! She's a black widow: she mates and she kills! We have to find out why Madeline wants her playing up to you."

"We?" Walter asked, and Birkoff looked uncomfortable.

"I...I thought I was your friend Walter, and friends stick together. If you don't want me in your corner, just say the word and I'm history!"

Walter rubbed the buzz cut that was Birkoff hairstyle. "You are my friend, Seymour. I'm...tickled that you'd be willing to back me up, even if it means facing Madeline." He gave him a bear hug and for a minute they pounded each other's backs, a typical guy reaction to physical affection.

Then they stepped away from each other, clearing their throats and trying to look casual. "So," Birkoff said, "what do we do now?"

"Now? Now we dig up Operations and find out what he thinks I've been doing. And we try to convince him it wasn't me doing it!"

Blues in the Night
Part 7

Operations was surprised when Walter and Birkoff came pounding up the stairs to the Observation Deck. "You gentlemen wished to see me about something?" he asked cautiously, remembering the last time the two of them had requested an interview. He searched his mind carefully, but he had been so caught up in trying to track the unsanctioned use of Section's cable privileges that he hadn't been up to anything nefarious in days.

"Damn straight, Paul! I want to know why that teenaged temptress is after me!"

Operations looked blank. "Who? Oh you mean Georgia. Funny, she was just on my mind!" he said and smirked.

Walter's mouth dropped open and Birkoff smothered a snort of laughter. "How does the woman stand it? I told her just that when she came up to me in the commissary!"

"So, our Georgia has been coming on to you? What's your complaint? From what I understand she's a firecracker. I wouldn't mind giving her a whirl myself!"

"Oh really?"

Walter and Birkoff were both surprised to see the head of Section flush dully. Who was calling him on a totally male remark?

The female cold op who broke her position by the doorway and entered the Deck was a new operative, just now getting a reputation around Section as 'mad, bad and dangerous to know.' It seemed logical that Operations would already have a claim to her, but it was apparent that she had one on him as well.

"Ummm, can we talk about this later, baby?"

She shrugged. "Sure, no problem. If you think there will be a 'later' for us?"

"Are you threatening me?"

The two operatives watched in fascination as the head of Section fenced with the brunette assassin. This was better than all the adult cable stations rolled into one! They settled in to watch with unbridled enjoyment.

She bared her teeth at Operations in what was no doubt meant to be a smile. It fell far short.

"I wouldn't dream of threatening a superior officer. However, on a strictly personal note, I would have no compunction in slicing off your balls and shoving them down your throat if I find you even *looking* at that little valentine operative."

Having made that statement, she glared at Walter and Birkoff and stalked off, her boots beating a staccato tattoo down the stairs. Operations' eyes held a banked fire as he watched her through the plexiglass that separated the Observation Deck from the rest of Section.

He was about to go after her when he recalled the unfinished business at hand. "You were saying, Walter?"

"Huh? I was?" Distracted by what he had just witnessed and overheard, the munitions op had totally lost his train of thought.

"Sir," Birkoff jumped in helpfully, "Walter needs to know why you sent Georgia to seduce him."

A crooked smile kicked up the corner of Operations' mouth. "Very well, I had hoped to avoid a direct confrontation, but the fact of the matter is this: Walter has been tapping into Section's cable line and is accessing a small fortune in adult films!"

Walter's mouth dropped open. "Me?" he squeaked. "I have been so busy with the latest project you dumped on me, when have I had the time to so much as sleep, let alone watch educational movies?"

"Educational?" both Operations and Birkoff demanded in unison.

Red-faced, Walter ducked his head. "Well, shit, you can learn a lot from those flicks!"

Deciding to ignore that statement, Operations did examine Walter's comment about his limited free time. "That's right, Walter. I have been keeping you exceptionally busy the last few weeks. However, the films have been linked to your quarters. Who could do that, and why?"

Birkoff answered. "Any half-baked comm operator could manage it easily, if no one looked into it too deeply."

As one, the obvious choice came to them. "Hillinger!"

"But why?" Walter repeated. "I have barely anything to do with the little weasel!"

"But you have the rep of being a wild man. It's something you might well do," Birkoff reminded him. "And...you're my friend!"

Operations was getting a little antsy. Since the threat issued by his cold op, he had been growing harder and hotter. Moistening his lips, he managed to speak in a normal voice. "I'll leave you gentlemen to handle this then, shall I? I have ... something that I need to tend to."

Birkoff stared after him in amazement. "Now where the heck did he need to go in such a rush?" he wondered, and Walter laughed.

"Didn't you see the front of his trousers, Seymour?"

"I don't make it a habit to look at men's crotches!" Birkoff sputtered in indignation.

Walter put an arm around his young friend's shoulders and began walking him off the Deck. "Unless I miss my guess, he had a hard on the size of a baseball bat!

"Come on, Seymour. Let's go put our heads together and see what we can come up with that would be a fitting punishment for young Hillinger!"

They had no idea that Georgia was already taking care of it.

part eight

Georgia sighed comfortably in Hillinger's arms. "And you say this is the first time you've ever done this?"

The young comm op shifted restlessly. "Didn't I do it right? I thought I gave you a good time!" he said plaintively.

"Sweetie, you gave me a *great* time! Maybe I should specialize in virgins!" She turned in his embrace and pressed her lush curves full length against him, gratified to feel his...interest...rising once more.

Blushing bright red, he admitted, "I watch a lot of ... instructional videos. And, well, I kind of practice on Isis!"

"Isis?" Georgia frowned irritably. She didn't want any other woman getting her hands on this delectable morsel.

"Yeah, I keep her under my bed!"

Georgia flipped around and angled herself over the edge of the bed, giving Greg an opportunity to admire her shapely backside, which he did while stroking the cleft that divided it. She hummed with pleasure as she peeked underneath.

Then she drew back with a gasp.

Blue eyes stared back at her. Lifeless eyes. A doll's eyes!

Isis was a blow-up doll!

Georgia smiled ferally and leaned back to lick Hillinger's mouth. "Well, sugar, any time you decide you want to practice on a real woman, you come right to me!"

His hands slid around to cup her breasts, capturing the erect nipples between thumb and forefinger and gently teasing them to a higher level of excitement.

"Want to try something a little different, Greggie?"

"Oh yes!" he breathed sibilantly.

Smiling coyly from over her shoulder, she asked him, "Do you have a handkerchief?"

Section was nothing if not thorough. All it's operatives were supplied with laundry service, as well as access to the commissary and free (within limits) cable. So Greg was able to find a clean handkerchief which he presented to Georgia with relish, although no idea of what she needed it for.

Cross-legged, he settled himself on the bed to watch with interest as she whipped it around to make a slim line and then tied a series of knots at intervals along its length. Then his mouth dropped open as she fastidiously inserted it into her body.

"Lean over, Greggie. Let me have your butt!"

Unable to catch his breath from excitement, Greg obeyed her with alacrity, watching over his shoulder to see what she would do next. Removing the handkerchief, which now glistened with her own lubricity, she parted Greg's cheeks and began pressing it into him.

His head dropped onto his arms and he pushed backward toward her, inviting further invasion. "Do you like that, Greg?" she asked, stroking the soft skin between his legs.

"Oh yes!" he moaned. "Oh my God! Georgia! that feels so good!"

"Just wait, Greggie! I'm not half done with you!" Sliding under him, Georgia reached up to encircle his neck with her arms and dragged his head down to hers. Biting at his lips in a frenzy of lust, she rubbed herself against him, offering him another trip to paradise.

Greg thrust his tongue into her mouth as he slid smoothly into her moist, hot depths and began making love to her top and bottom. Tearing his mouth away, he gasped for breath before licking a path down her throat and upper torso to her breasts, taking a pouting nipple between his lips and nipping it demandingly.

Georgia moaned and curled her legs high around his waist, leaving her open and at his mercy. His strokes were quick, hard and deep, measuring again and again the length of his arousal. He reached down and touched the hidden treasure at the top of her femininity, tormenting it with feather brushes.

Rocking each other closer and closer to fulfillment, Greg cried hoarsely, "I'm almost there! Top of the world, Georgia!"

And suddenly, Georgia had him actually screaming from the force if his climax, as her clever fingers pulled the knotted handkerchief through his snug opening, driving him to such heights of pleasure that he actually collapsed onto her, his swoon sending her into a paroxysm of sensation.

Panting with excitement and dizzy with the power of having brought another male to the point of fainting, Georgia trembled beneath the body of the young comm op who had her pinned to the bed with his unconscious weight.

This was the best fuck she had had in a long time, and she ran her fingers through Hillinger's hair, much as she might have fondled the fur of a pet.

She was smiling when Hillinger came back to his senses. He could feel it and was hugely proud of himself for having brought a valentine op to climax.

He might not have been too happy if he could have seen that smile: it was almost evil.

He did not realize that he had just sold his soul to a master far more demanding than Section could ever dream of being!



Blues in the Night
Part 9

Operations strode toward the lifts that descended to the level housing the living quarters of Section's operatives. His arousal was becoming so uncomfortable that he slid a hand into his pocket, pretending to jingle change, and gave himself a surreptitious adjustment. Waiting for the elevator, he rocked on his toes, recalling his first meeting with the brunette assassin known as Soot.

*****

She had been recruited to Section after a particularly impressive hit on a United States senator. Liberated from a federal prison, she had been in Medlab, recovering from the drug given her to simulate death. Her dossier had been somewhat incomplete, and Madeline had paid her a visit to fill in the blanks.

Madeline had found Section's newest recruit extremely difficult to obtain information from, and eventually had to resort to a potent form of sodium pentathal to break her resistance. This precipitated a virulent hostility on both sides, and although Madeline kept a check rein on her 'pet snoop' she knew that to draw it too tightly would result in open rebellion.

Operations had been keeping an unobtrusive tab on the brunette, having long had a weakness for strong women with dark brown hair, and he was disturbed by the reports from various instructors that Soot did not appear to be living up to her potential. It would be a shame to send her to Abeyance before she undertook even one mission.

Rounding up a number of senior operatives, Operations had decided to bring matters to a head. They entered the area where the lead martial arts instructor was working his batch of recruits. "Willem," Operations had called to him, "I'd like to see how Soot is coming along."

Willem had shaken his head. "She's not ready for any type of demonstration, sir. Why don't I select someone else?"

Operations was obdurate. "I want to see what Soot is capable of doing."

The instructor shrugged and gestured for Soot and another recruit to take their places on the mat. She approached the older man courteously and politely declined the match.

Willem was an even-tempered man; he had to be. His skills were at such a level that he could kill man by ripping his larynx out with his stiffened fingers. That a recruit, and one of such limited skills would question his orders, left him mildly perturbed.

"Soot," he stated calmly, " you *will* display whatever ability you have before this group of observers.

"Sir," she just as calmly replied, "I *won't*!"

Michael leaned over and said softly to Operations. "Perhaps this isn't a good time, sir."

He ignored Michael, and signaled the instructor to start the demonstration. With a sigh, for Willem found the female recruit interesting if inept, he nodded at the male and the exhibition began.

To no one's surprise, the brunette was sent flying over the male recruit's shoulder to bounce painfully against a wall. Slowly she got back on her feet. "Please, sir," she begged, one last time. "Please don't make me do this."

Disappointed as well as angry that a mere recruit would question his judgment, Operations barked, "Finish it!" The male took her arm in his grip, and then it appeared as if all hell was breaking loose. Soot seemed to explode in a flurry of arms and legs, and then her opponent lay flat on his back, nursing a broken nose.

The next recruit who attempted to take her on found himself with a compound fracture of the leg, the shattered tibia showing whitely through the flesh. His moans were the only sound as Soot squared off against her next opponent, this time one of the operatives who had accompanied Operations.

He fared a little better, in that he lost no blood. However, he was unconscious and so had no interest in the rest of the altercations.

Operations sent in Michael, who had been closely observing the female recruit's technique. For long minutes they feinted and parried, dodged and ducked. Then Soot's foot stepped backed onto a blood slick and her legs went out from under her.

The force of her landing knocked the wind out of her, and Michael seized that opportunity to straddle her torso, imprisoning her hands at shoulder level. Looking into her brown eyes, he waited for a glimmer that would give him a clue as to how she meant to proceed. To his amazement, her eyes turned molten.

It was obvious to everyone there that the passion of battle had somehow transformed into the passion of lust. Soot stretched up and managed to capture Michael's mouth with her own. Her leg curled around his hip in a bid to bring his body closer to hers. No one doubted that in spite of the audience, she would have screwed Michael senseless.

The only thing that stopped her was Michael's own lack of physical response. Like a bucket of ice water, it quenched the fires that had burned so hotly. Tearing her mouth from his, she turned her head aside, panting to fill her lungs with oxygen.

"Are you all right?" Michael asked softly. At her curt nod, he rose agilely and returned to Operations. "If you don't need me for anything else, I have a mission I need to study the profiles on."

Operations nodded grimly and sent everyone else away as well. "You!" he snarled, glaring at Soot and crooking his finger at her as she slowly climbed to her feet. "I want to see you in my office *now*!"

Nodding, running a restless hand through her disheveled hair, she followed him to his office on the other side of Section One. She was so despondent about the whole incident that she did not hear the lock on the door being engaged.

"What do you think I should do with a recruit who deliberately conceals her abilities, then takes down some of the best men I have?" he demanded.

Her eyes were a muddy brown now, and she shrugged. "No doubt you'll have me canceled."

"And this doesn't bother you?"

Her unconcerned shrug sent his blood pressure through the roof. "You...!" He was on her before she could anticipate a counter move. Slamming her back against a wall, his long fingers found the pressure points on her wrists and held her captive. His body immobilized hers, leaning full length against her.

His eyes glittered dangerously. "I have no use for operatives who think they know more than I do!" he gritted. "You're going to complete your training under me. And I mean that literally!"

"That's sexual harassment!" she gritted from between clenched teeth, trying to angle her face away from his. His breath washed over her mouth, and she felt goosebumps rising.

She tested the strength of his grip on her wrists and found he had her securely imprisoned. And then he leaned full length against her, acquainting her with his growing arousal. Angling his legs between hers, he spread them apart and began rocking against the notch he created.

Soot tried to avoid his mouth, ducking and twisting her head, but to no avail. His lips followed the line of her cheek, forcing her head back against the wall. Trapped by the pressure he was exerting on her face, she was helpless to stop the impending onslaught. Hard lips finally took hers, his tongue imperatively seeking entrance to her mouth.

She locked her jaws and prepared to withstand. When Operations realized what she had done, he drew back enough to examine her. Flushed, furious, fine tremors rippling through her, she glared at her superior, her eyes beginning to go molten.

Operations released a wrist that would sport impressive bruises later and seized the hinge of her jaw, exerting controlled pressure, until finally her mouth opened and he savagely slanted his lips over hers.

Ignoring the wrist he had dropped, he began caressing her breasts, reaching under her mission shirt to find her naked flesh. Stroking and kneading her firm bosom, he teased her into passion. The hand that had been trying to inflict maximum pain was soon petting and fondling him. Seeking the hard length of him, she managed to lower his zipper and free him from the confines of his trousers.

****

It was the approach of one of his subordinates that snapped him out of his lustful daze. Davenport smiled tentatively at the head of Section. "Good afternoon sir," he said politely.

"Where do you think you're going?" Operations barked.

"Um, I have some down time sir. I was going to catch up on some sleep before tonight's mission."

"In your quarters?"

Davenport found this decidedly weird. "Yes, sir."

"Well, this lift is out of order. Go find another one!"

At that moment, the doors slid opened. Operations stepped in and automatically turned to face the front of the car, glaring ferociously at Davenport, as if daring him to question his statement.

Openmouthed, Davenport stared at the closing doors of the obviously functioning elevator. Turning to the two operatives who appeared at his shoulder he murmured, "Did you see that? He had a ..."

Walter and Birkoff finished in unison. "...hard on the size of a baseball bat!"

*******************

Operations arrived at Soot's door just as she was about to leave for someplace else.

Coincidence.

Only coincidences were not permitted to happen in Section One. Soot scowled at him, trying to pull her door shut.

Operations smiled at her, if one could call the baring of teeth that resembled nothing so much as a shark's grin, a smile. He pushed against her pull, and the door flew open to bounce back after its violent contact with the wall.

"Get inside, Soot!" the head of Section ordered softly, and the operative felt a tingle low in her abdomen.

"Or else...?" she queried.

"Or else..." Operations savored the drawn out moment. "Or else, I will strip you naked and roger you right here in the corridor!"

She leaned back against the door frame and ran a taunting tongue over her lips. Her eyes had taken on a slumberous gleam, and a warm flush tinted her cheekbones.

"And you think you're man enough to take me?" she asked in a mocking tone.

His hands reached for the collar of her mission shirt. She ducked under his outstretched arm and bolted into her quarters, wheeling to slam the door on her importunate lover. Unfortunately, he was already in, beside her, as the door swung shut. For a moment she struggled against it, but then dissolved into helpless laughter.

"Oh, Operations, you are just too bad!" She wound her arms around his neck and drew him flush to her body. "Would you really have fucked me in front of that crowd we were drawing?"

His eyes burned with the passion this particular operative was able to arouse so effortlessly. "I'll roger you wherever and whenever I have the opportunity to do so!"

"I love when you talk dirty to me!"

Startled, he pulled back. "Do you really? I never dreamed...!"

"Come on, you never noticed that as soon as you start describing what you're going to do to me I start to burn?"

"Well, actually, no. None of the other women I've been involved with have ever seemed to enjoy my little forays into the realm of fantasy."

A tender smile lit her molten eyes. "Poor baby. You just didn't know what you were missing. Now that I've made you aware, I expect you to pay attention!" She drew him close to her and rubbed her nose alongside his, teasing his cheek with her lips. "Just one thing, Ops: I wasn't kidding about emasculating you if you ever make a play for that valentine operative!"

"Are you threatening me?"

"Damn straight I am! She's bad news, and I'll cancel her just like that," she snapped her fingers under her lover's nose, "if I hear she's even contemplating having her wicked way with you!"

Operations chose to ignore that statement. Instead, he loosened the knot of his tie and pulled it over his head. Then he began unbuttoning his shirt. "Aren't you a little overdressed?" he asked huskily.

The assassin went up to him and pushed the shirt off his shoulders, momentarily trapping his arms. She ran her hands up his lightly-furred chest, letting the soft hairs tickle her palms, tracing the line of his collarbone, then scrapping her nails down to where his flat male nipples were concealed. Dipping her head, her tongue lapped neatly at one before drawing it into her mouth to suckle gently.

Operations groaned as the fire she ignited within him arrowed to his groin, where his arousal was becoming almost painful. With a shrug, his shirt fluttered to the floor, freeing him to encircle her waist and jerk her close to his lower body, inviting her to feel her effect on him.

Rubbing herself against him like a cat, she whispered breathily in his ear, "Talk to me, big man, talk to me!" Cupping his straining erection in caressing fingers, she eased his zipper down and freed him.

His breathing became erratic as she sank to her knees before him. He began to speak, his words first emerging in strangled tones, to become clearer as he forced himself to focus. Winding his fingers in her hair, he positioned her where he needed her most to be.

"Open up, Dynamite! Take me in your mouth. Take all of me!" He rocked as he spoke, sliding his cock deep into her throat and then pulling almost all the way out. "Do you like getting your mouth fucked? Do you want me to pour myself into your hot, sweet mouth? This is just a taste of what I'm going to do to you!"

She sat back on her heels and looked up at him, her eyes so hot he could feel them scorching him. Sliding her gaze down his body in an almost palpable caress, she observed the tiny drop of moisture beading on his hard flesh. She leaned forward and licked it off, almost causing him to explode.

Recalling her request to talk to him, he struggled to continue.

"I'm going to tear off every piece of clothing that you have on! I'm going to carry you into the bedroom and throw you down on that bed of yours that I've never seen! Do you realize that we've never fucked on that bed? I've had you in the Tower, and on the Observation Deck, and in my rooms, but never here in your quarters!"

He dragged her to her feet before he detonated, scooping her up in his arms and striding into her bedroom. As he placed her on her feet, he let her slide the length of his body. And he shuddered as she came into contact with his arousal.

"Then I'm going to..."

"Shut up, sir!" Soot's fingers were flying on her shirt, unbuttoning it and then yanking it off with a rapidity that bordered on manic. Leaving one sleeve still hanging from her wrist, she worked the fastening of her trousers.

Operations stood with his mouth agape, almost forgetting to breath. Soot stepped in close to press her mouth against his lips, sliding in her questing tongue, which began a mating dance with his. Her thumbs hooked the waistband of her trousers and eased them down her legs.

True to his word, Operations tossed her lightly onto the bed and yanked her pants off the rest of the way. Barely taking time to shed his own clothes, he followed her down, covering her body with his needy one.

Catching her legs behind the knees, he placed them high around his waist while he probed for the entrance to her body. Rubbing his length along her folds, he was soon coated in the moisture that he drew forth from her.

He continued to tantalize her, enjoying the frantic twisting of her body to impale itself on his shaft. Seizing his hair, she jerked his head up, her breaths hitching in her throat. "Are..you ... going to ... fuck me or just...whistle...Dixie?" she panted.

With a low growl he plunged into her, raising her up as he settled back onto his haunches, bringing her breasts level with his mouth. He took one tempting nipple between his lips and teased it with tongue and teeth. Almost keening with need, she rode him ruthlessly, taking him deep within her and then rising up until he was almost free.

Her strokes became uneven and disjointed as she approached climax. Angling her head close to his ear, she blew gently into it then licked it with a flat swipe of her tongue. "Harder, big man, fuck me harder!"

Dropping down heavily on top of her, his thumb found the spot at the top of her folds that drove her wild and pressed against it, hurling her into space. As she began her fall, she fastened her teeth on the tendon at the side of his throat.

And she did not fall alone.

**************

Birkoff sat disconsolately in his room. Section One was very quiet.

Everyone was getting laid.

Everyone, that is, except him.

Walter was so horny, he was seeing the profiler, Valerie, who had once played them off against each other. "All cats are gray in the dark," was how he phrased it. "I plan to keep my eyes closed *a lot*!"

Operations was locked away with his operative Soot in her quarters, and from the sounds reported to be coming from there he was having a *very* good time!

Michael and Nikita had managed to slip away, and were no doubt, even now, gazing soulfully into each other's eyes. If they weren't shagging like mink.

Madeline was sequestered in her office, ostensibly evaluating the performance reviews for this quarter. Birkoff had discovered what she really did on those occasions when her door was barred to everyone in Section: she was accessing slash fiction sites on the Internet!

Not that he would ever dare tell anyone!

Well, that gave her a hobby, but it still left him at loose ends!

It was tough being the resident computer geek. No one took him seriously. No one realized that he had a sex drive too, such as it was. Everyone in Section treated him as if he was married to his computer. Well, as much as he loved Ami, which stood, sort of, for Artificial Memory Enhancement, she wasn't much in the cuddling up to department.

He was lonely.

He had studied the films offered on channel 185 just as much as Hillinger had, only he was smart enough not to get caught at it.

And he'd tried sex a couple of times, of course, first with the Abby clone of Nikita, and then with Valerie. If he could just find someone he cared for, he was sure it would be even better. While passion without a purpose was hot and exciting, he wanted more.

A light tap on his door jolted him back to reality. Kicking at the carpet that covered his floor, he took his time answering, hoping whoever was there would get discouraged and just go away. However, the tap became a more persistent knock.

A huge sigh rippled through his frame. Reluctantly, he opened the door. To his amazement, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood there.

"Can I help you?" Birkoff asked, his voice rising to a squeak, wishing he had the nerve to pull her into his apartment, tear off her clothes and have wild monkey sex with her. Walter would have had no problem with that.

"Are you Birkoff?" she asked, too bored for words.

"Ye..yes..." he said hesitantly. She was looking for him?

"You want to let me in?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." This was very weird. "Umm, are you sure you want me?"

She stepped around him and gazed disdainfully at the posters of the latest IMacs, Compaqs and Hewlett Packards that covered his walls. "Wanting you has nothing to do with this. I'm your birthday present."

Birkoff's eyes grew round behind his tinted glasses. "My birthday present? But nobody here knows when my birthday is!"

"Well, somebody does. I was ordered to show up here today and fulfill your every fantasy. So, wild man," her tone of voice was so blasé she could have been a habitué of fin de siecle Paris, "tell me what you want to do." Her fingers reached for the buttons of her blouse and she began sliding them through the holes, slowly displaying the glorious flesh of her bosom.

Birkoff looked as if he was ready to cry. "Please don't do that!"

She paused, a little uneasy. "Don't do what?"

"Don't get undressed. I appreciate the offer, but I don't accept charity from anyone! I don't need a pity fuck!"

"You don't want me?" She was ashen now. If it got back to the person who assigned this project to her that once again she had failed to bed the objective, she faced certain cancellation. She had been so frightened. She had masked it in her usual manner, feigning boredom.

Now it seemed as if that mechanism, instead of protecting her, was going to result in her death! "Don't send me away, please!" she begged. "I'll let you do anything you want, just please don't..."

Her hands went to his waistband and she unfastened his trousers, carefully lowering the zipper and freeing him. Dropping to her knees before him, she ran her tongue along his length, which had hardened as soon as she had touched him. Taking him into her mouth, she suckled him.

Forgetting his objections to a pity fuck, he leaned back against the wall, letting her mouth minister to him. But the whole thing was so bizarre that he found himself unable to maintain his erection, and despite her best efforts, he became soft.

Unbearably mortified, he tucked himself away. A painful blush burned its way to his hairline. Turning to the wall, he banged his head against it.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm so sorry," she said at the same time.

She didn't sound as condescending as before, and he began to hope she wouldn't spread this tale throughout the whole of Section. Facing her once more, he was shocked to see tears flooding her eyes.

Kneeling next to her, he took her in his arms. "Why are you crying? It's not your fault! I'm just no good at this! Maybe I should become a monk!"

That surprised a snicker out of her, and she wiped the tears away with her palms. "I was told this was my last chance. If I couldn't perform up to specs, I'd go into abeyance!"

"I don't want to sound cold, but what could be so hard about being a valentine op?"

She laughed bitterly. "This face!"

"Huh? I'm sorry, you've lost me. Your face is gorgeous!"

"It is now. It wasn't two years ago. Then, it was so plain, not a single man would give me a second look!"

"Do I see Section's fine hand in this?"

She nodded. "I was acceptable collateral. Section decided to alter my looks and make me a valentine op. Unfortunately, outside I may be a femme fatale, but inside I'm still an ugly duckling. I just can't believe these men would want to sleep with me, and I do everything wrong!"

Birkoff found her tale fascinating. It was almost as miserable as the way he himself had been recruited to Section. He helped her to her feet. "Come on into my kitchen. I'll make us some hot chocolate and break out the Oreos."

"Oh yeah," she said sarcastically. "That's a sure cure for everything!"

Birkoff filled a kettle with water and set it on his tiny stove. "Works for me!" he said with a shrug.

Birkoff filled two mugs with chocolate raspberry cocoa and ripped open a new package of Oreos. Offering his guest first choice, he settled himself at the table opposite her.

"What's your name, anyway?" he asked.

"Genesee."

Birkoff choked on a mouthful of hot chocolate. "Like the beer?"

She smiled ruefully. "That's the name Section gave me when I regained consciousness after the surgery."

"So, tell me about your training."

Her mouth twisted. "Prurient little bugger, aren't you, Birkoff? You want all the gory details?"

He knew it had been too good to be true; he reached out a hand in friendship and got slapped down. "Sorry," he said shortly. "For a minute there, I felt like Michael, as if I could make a difference. Who did I think I was kidding? I'm just the computer geek, I'm not a level 5 op!"

The mask of boredom had settled over her face. She was doing it again, lashing out at someone who had no desire to hurt her. Who had no desire for her at all. If she wanted to break this vicious cycle, she would have to make the first move.

"I was ugly as a mud fence as a teenager," she forced out with some difficulty. "No one wanted me. No one wanted to find out what I was like inside. I was a junior in college and I'd never had a boyfriend! Then I was caught on the periphery of an explosion terrorists set off at my college. My face and my body were ruined. For some reason, Section decided to recruit me."

"It's tough when Section gets you in your teens. Did you ever find out why they wanted you?"

"I've got a good idea. I don't remember much about that day, but I do know the campus slut was walking across the quad near me. I think I was mistaken for her."

"I'm surprised someone at Section didn't realize there had been a mistake. They're very conscientious about things like that."

"Well, as I said, my face was ruined."

"But what about the sl...the other girl?"

"There wasn't enough left of her to fill a baggie! Anyway, by the time I was completely healed, I was resigned to staying in Section. There was nothing on the outside for me anyway. I thought they'd put me in computers. That was what I was majoring in. But they decided to make me a valentine operative!"

Her long blue-black hair swung forward to conceal her face. "They finally accepted the fact that they had the wrong person when my first mentor took me to bed to try me out and discovered I was a virgin. He wasn't brutal, but he was expecting someone with experience. He thought I was playing a game."

She was silent for so long that Birkoff thought she wasn't going to tell him anything else. Then she raised her head and looked at him, and hell was looking out of her eyes. "I had to be hospitalized for a week. Oh, he was very apologetic, and of course someone else took over my training, but I don't like what I do, and I always seem to find some way to unconsciously sabotage it. Maybe it's for the best if I get canceled. I can't do this anymore!"

"Why don't you show me what you can do?"

She froze, horrified by his suggestion. He had made her feel so comfortable, but he was just like all men: he lulled a woman into a sense of security and then struck. Very carefully, she put down the mug she had held in a death grip and rose.

Birkoff didn't realize she was leaving until she was almost out the door. "Wait!" he called, striding after her. "Just give me a second to boot up my computer!"

She spun around. "What?"

"I want you to show me what you can do with a computer. What did you think I meant?" He thought back over his words and it dawned on him how ambiguous they must have sounded. Hitting himself in the head with the heel of his hand he said, "I'm sorry Gen. I wouldn't put moves on anyone who's been through what you have. But if you're halfway good, I may be able to get you vetted to my division!"

Her eyes lit up and she threw herself at Birkoff, nearly knocking him over. "Oh, thank you, Seymour, thank you!" And she covered his face with kisses. "It's been a while, but I had a solid 4.0 grade point average! Let me at the little beast!"

Uncomfortable, Birkoff backed away from her, dismayed to find that *now* he would have taken what she was no longer offering. Taking her hand, he led her into the spare bedroom, which he had set up as his personal computer room. His extension of Ami lived here.

Genesee lit up like a Christmas tree the sight of all the peripherals. She cracked her knuckles, seated herself and rested her fingers on the keyboard for a moment. Then in a blur, her fingers flew over the keys as she began typing in commands.

Impressed in spite of himself, Birkoff watched as she easily proved her competency. With a saucy grin, she punched in the order to execute and sat back complacently to watch the program scroll across the screen.

"Pretty good, huh?" she asked.

"Pretty excellent! Who's your division head?"

Her eyes clouded. "Raymonde de Tourneau."

"That p*h*i*n*q*u*e*!!!" Birkoff spelled it out.

"Excuse me?"

"He's a French fink! Smug frog bastard!" Birkoff picked up his comm link and put a call through to the Frenchman. "Ray? Hi. Birkoff. Listen, I had a visit from your little valentine op, and I was wondering what the odds are of having her transferred to my department?"

Birkoff paused as de Tourneau spoke. All Genesee could hear was the sibilance of his remarks.

The comm op purposely made himself sound bored. "Well, I find her awkwardness enchanting. If she's not working out in your division, then I could use her."

Again de Tourneau interrupted him. Birkoff made a yakking motion with his fingers and nodded as if the Frenchman could see him.

"Well, look, Ray, either you vet her to me, or Operations has her canceled. Either way you're out a valentine operative, and Section is short an op. If you send her to communications, at least Section still has a working operative. Listen, Ray, it's your call. I'm putting in the request to Operations as soon as he gets done with Soot; I just thought I'd let you know, sort of a courtesy between division heads. Gotta go!" And he disconnected.

Grinning at Genesee, he dusted his hands off and buffed his nails against his shoulder. "Did good, didn't I?"

"Seymour, you did wonderful! But do you think I'll get the transfer?"

"Soot's bound to have Operations in a good mood. It's in the bag!

"Now let me type out that request!"

While Birkoff stared intently at the computer screen, Genesee was staring just as intently at him.

She had known for quite some time that something about the comm op drew her irresistibly, and now she could indulge herself to her heart's delight, studying his features.

Her eyes followed the line of his brow, the curve of his jaw.

The sight of his tongue peeking between his lips as he concentrated on the intel he keyed into the request caused her breath to catch silently. The sight of those lips themselves, lush, soft, molded for kissing, made the heart of her grow warm and wet.

Although she knew the mechanics of the sex act and indeed, had performed on a number of dismal occasions, it was only while watching Birkoff that she discovered the thrilling tug of desire.

With a satisfied groan, Birkoff gave the command to send and stretched his arms high above his head, his fingers laced together, popping the kinks out of his back. He turned to smile at his gorgeous companion, only to find her attention transfixed, her gaze riveted to the computer.

And he sighed. Of course a woman as beautiful as she, who could have any man in Section, probably including Michael, would never be interested in a computer geek such as himself.

He examined the monitor to see what she found so fascinating, but the blinking cursor was the sole occupant of the screen.

What he missed seeing were Genesee's furtive glances at him.

What did he look like under that bulky pull-over? she wondered. How would his chest feel under her questing fingertips? Was it furry, like some of the terrorists she'd been ordered to fuck? Was it smooth and hairless? Or did only a sprinkling of hair arrow down to his groin, pointing the way to hidden delights?

She forced her gaze back to the screen, just as Birkoff, puzzled by what was intently occupying her mind, swung his own gaze back to her.

Missing her intrigued perusal of his body.

But enabling him to do some perusing of his own.

Her blue-black hair hung to the middle of her back in a riot of curls. Caught behind her shell-like ears, it revealed her heart-shaped face. Midnight blue eyes, oval and slightly slanted at the corner gave her a faintly exotic look. A slightly retrousee nose. A mouth guaranteed to drive a man wild wondering what it would feel like suckling his arousal.

Her breasts were full and high and the nipples impertinently peaked under the soft sweater she wore.

A disturbing thought suddenly blossomed in Birkoff's mind: had Section, when doing all the reconstruction on her ruined face and body, had her surgically altered so that her nipples were permanently erect, destroying all feeling in them?

This time, when Genesee cast a surreptitious glance at Birkoff, her eyes locked with his. He looked furious and she backed away involuntarily, her mouth dry and her heart pounding uncomfortably in her throat.

"I'd better go!" she managed to whisper.

"Wait!" Birkoff ordered, no longer the lonely young man, but the competent head of his own department. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, jolted by the wild pounding of her pulse. "Section is ruthless, and cares nothing about the means to the ends. Did they...?" He extended his hand and gently stroked the tips of her breasts. "Did *they* do this to you?"

Confused, Genesee stared down at her breasts cupped in his warm palms. And blushed a fiery red.

Her eyes vaguely unfocused, she shook her head and moistened her lips, unconsciously leaning into his touch. Her absurdly long lashes drifted down and she hummed in pleased delight.

"No Birkoff. It's you! *You* do this to me!"

Birkoff's thumbs and forefingers closed over her nipples, rolling them, teasing them to tighter points. Then he stilled.

What kind of an animal was he to subject a woman who had undergone the experiences Genesee had to his unwanted attentions?

He dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back from her. "I'm sorry, Gen. That was inexcusable! Maybe you better had go!"

"Go?" she echoed dumbly. "You want me to go? You don't want me?"

"Want you? I want you so badly I'd like nothing better than to strip that sweater off your body and take those sweet nipples into my mouth!

"I want to sift that gorgeous hair of yours through my fingers; I want to feel it against my skin. I want you naked on my bed! I want to lick my way up those legs of yours that seem to go on forever! I want to settle my mouth on you here," and he let her feel his hand where her legs joined, "and take you with my teeth and my tongue! I want to..." he paused, amazed that she hadn't run screaming from his quarters.

A misty smile lightened the blue of her eyes. "Oh, Birkoff, I want that too! Would you give it to me?"

Almost unable to catch his breath, the comm op took her in his arms as if she was made of spun glass. Tentatively he moistened his lips and pressed a light kiss on her mouth. Drawing back to judge her reaction, he found her eyes wide and stunned.

Disappointed, he released her. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"Maybe you'd better kiss me harder!" she retorted. She slid his glasses off and tossed them carelessly aside, then took his face in her hands, holding him still while she slanted her lips across his.

Her kisses were not inexperienced: Section required all its operatives to be familiar with every aspect of their specialty. But there was an aura of newness about them that surrounded Birkoff's arousal with fingers of desire.

She swallowed the moan he couldn't suppress, teasing his tongue to come out and play with hers. Somehow, Birkoff managed to get them both into his bedroom.

Stepping back only far enough to yank his sweatshirt over his head, he wrestled with the fastening of his trousers as Genesee just stood and watched.

Wiry light brown hair covered his chest and groin. She reached out trembling fingers to follow the line down past his navel, down to where his arousal sprang hard and hot. Running her fingertips along his length, she caught the drop of dew that beaded there.

"Do I...please you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh yes!" she breathed. "Your body is beautiful!"

He blushed and would have turned aside, uncomfortable with her words.

"No, seriously! Your chest is so nice! It's not like some of the operatives who bulk up on steroids. And it's not like some of the targets who are so soft it's almost as if they have breasts!"

"Oh. That's okay, then. I guess. How about if I just lay down before my legs give out? You can play with me. And when you feel like it, *if* you feel like it, you can get undressed and join me?"

"Silly me!" she giggled. "I got such pleasure looking at you that I forgot I still have all my clothes on!"

While Birkoff got himself settled on the bed Genesee tore feverishly at her clothes, flinging them away with abandon.

Kneeling next to him, she let her hair rain over his thighs and chest. Birkoff seized handfuls of the silky stuff, letting it thread through his fingers, then pulled her head down so he could nip hungrily at her mouth. Soft moans filled the room.

His.

Hers.

Theirs.

She straddled his hips, her heat luring him like a siren song.

"Gen... Let me...?"

Sinking slowly down on his erection, she bathed him in her moisture. Her breath hitched as he surged within her, filling her completely.

Knowing he was too far gone to wait for her to reach her pinnacle, Birkoff eased his fingers between their bodies and touched the treasure nestled in her curls. He matched his thrusts to the pressure he exerted there. Harder. And harder. And harder still.

And then he felt her inner muscles tighten around him, her spasms milking him, drawing him after her as she toppled helplessly into the void.

Still firmly joined, they let the aftershocks ripple through them, wafting them to a gentle landing.

And then to Birkoff's utter amazement, he found himself hard and ready to rock all over again!

****************************

Greg Hillinger was lying sprawled on his bed, in an exhausted slumber. His lips parted to emit soft snores.

Seated cross-legged next to his hips, Georgia let proprietary eyes wander over her newest slave. Cynically she wondered how long it would last.

Her attention span could be notoriously brief.

Rising lithely to her feet, she stepped over the young comm operative and dropped to the floor. It was time to put aside her toys for the moment and return to the task Madeline had set for her.

The first order of business was a shower. It would never do to approach a new target while still wearing the scent of the old one.

She had ridden Greg so long and so hard that he was still out cold when she quietly let herself out of his quarters. A mild soreness kept her aware of the unexpected activity Greg had visited upon her buttocks. Just thinking about it caused her nipples to pebble and heat to pool between her thighs, leaving her flushed and aroused.

Georgia found Walter's rooms. She was in such a state of excitement that she quite looked forward to sampling the wares of the older weapons operative. Maybe she'd let him have her butt too! She rapped imperatively on his door.

"Hold on a second, sweet thing!" she heard Walter call through the door, and she was pleased that he was waiting for her. She draped herself seductively against his door frame and posed expectantly.

"Hi there, big guy!" she purred as an eye peered around the opening.

"Uhhh, hi yourself Georgia. Can I help you with something?" Walter asked, seeming a little uncomfortable.

"Sure can, big guy! You going to ask me in for a drink? Or something?"

"Gee, I'd really like to, sweet thing, but, you see, I already have somebody in here for a drink. Or something."

"What?" All her honeyed sweetness vanished and the real Georgia was revealed.

"Maybe some other time, sweet thing?" He gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders, which she could now see were bare. "You were gone so long, I just couldn't wait anymore!" Of course, that wasn't the truth, but he wasn't about to tell this baby Borgia that he wouldn't have her gift-wrapped!

"Walter?" A faintly foreign-accented voice called to him from within his rooms. Georgia pushed the door slightly and got an eyeful of Walter's naked hip and thigh. The towel he wore slipped as he turned to answer his guest.

"Half a sec, Valerie. I'll see you some other time, okay, Georgia?" Before she could gather her scattered wits, the weapons op closed the door in her face.

Her mouth agape, Georgia stared with stunned eyes at the door that separated her from her victim. Ready to fight for what she deemed rightly hers, she was about to start pounding on the door, prepared to slash her rival to ribbons. A firm hand gripped her upper arm before she could do anything rash.

Wheeling to face her captor, a snarl twisting her lips, Georgia recoiled sharply. "Madeline!"

"Yes, dear, your worst nightmare!"

"I was just trying to complete my mission but Walter is not being the least little bit cooperative!"

"If you would answer your pages, you would have discovered we no longer need to have Walter under surveillance."

Looking a little ill at ease, Georgia mumbled something.

"What was that, dear? I couldn't quite make that out."

"I said... I was sorry if I was blunt," she offered with a sickly grin.

"Yes. I'm sure," Madeline responded. "Why don't you go take your down time?"

"You don't need me to trail anyone else?"

"No, Georgia, that's quite all right. We know who the responsible party is. You can go and play now," and Madeline waved her away as if she was an annoying insect that needed to be brushed off.

Madeline watched the young valentine op as she made her way down the corridor, her hips swaying with the promise of sultry sex. Then the psych op turned on her heel and made her way back to her office, distinctly out of sorts.

She *hated* it when her Internet surfing was interrupted!

***********************

Georgia was not happy. Madeline had pulled the plug on her mission to bed Walter. Hillinger was sleeping off her effects on him. And her reputation as something of a voracious lover was spreading to the point where not many operatives were willing to take her on.

And to top it off, she was so horny the mere brushing of her thighs together had her on the verge of coming as she stalked the corridors of Section One.

She sighed. She'd just have to rely on her trusty vibrator. While she much preferred a flesh and blood cock fucking her senseless, sometimes she had no choice.

Georgia shoved open the door to her apartment. Located in that part of Section where the more senior operatives resided, she had been given those quarters as a token of her dedication to her job.

She slammed the door so hard it bounced back and smacked her in the butt. Her volatile temper exploded and she swore at it as she hit it with the palm of her hand.

Muttering under her breath, she stormed into her bedroom, yanking up the tank top she wore. But before she could pull it over her head, a masculine hand caught her wrists and held her prisoner. Unable to see, she went very still, waiting for the next move her assailant would make.

A callused hand toyed with her naked breasts and a rough voice whispered in her ear, "I hear you've been a very naughty little girl! Do you know what I do to naughty little girls?"

She shook her head, becoming so aroused she was afraid her legs would buckle.

"I can't hear you, little girl. Answer me when I talk to you!"

"I...I don't know what you do to naughty little girls," she managed to whisper through lips dry with excitement.

The hand continued to fondle her. "I very slowly pull down their jeans. Then I rub my hand between their legs over their pretty panties. When I have them nice and wet, I take the panties off and I position those naughty little girls over my knee. Do you want me to do that to you?"

"Why would I want you to touch me?" she demanded.

A warm mouth replaced the hand that was teasing her nipples, drawing her deep between his lips, letting her feel the edges of his teeth. Involuntarily she cried out as her excitement dampened her lacy briefs. Then the mouth left her and she moaned its loss.

"That's why you're going to want me to touch you: because I'm going to give you the most mind-blowing orgasm you've ever had!"

"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" she panted and she twisted toward his voice, hoping to lure his mouth onto her once more.

"I am!"

She could hear the smile in his words and she shivered. All of a sudden she felt something encircle her wrists, securing them tightly and snapping shut. "What are you doing?"

"Well, honey bunch, I'm going to make sure you don't try to stop me in any way. This is my ball game, and you're just along for the ride!" He released his grip on her, but she was still unable to see; her tank top obscured her vision.

Scooping her up, he carried her over to the bed and set her down so he could remove her shoes. Then he pulled her back to her feet and he made quick work of the fastening of her jeans. True to his word, he eased them down just far enough so his fingers could caress her through her panties.

Her previous state of arousal was nothing compared to what she felt as she realized he was following his own scenario. "What...what are you going to do to me now?"

Huge thumbs hooked the waistband of her briefs, tugged them down, and swept them along with her jeans off her legs. Then her world upended as he pulled her over his knees.

She felt deliciously exposed and at the mercy of this large man, whoever he was. His callused hands palmed the curves of her shapely derriere and worked closer to the shadowy cleft that separated her buttocks. One long finger began pressing the tight ring of muscle there. "Do you like that, little girl?"

"Yes!"

And he withdrew his finger.

She twisted in his grip. "More!" she begged.

And she jerked as his heavy hand came down hard on her upturned buttocks.

"Be careful what you wish for little girl!" He reached over and pulled something out of the bag he had placed beside the bed.

Georgia startled as something cool touched the opening between her legs and then was inserted completely in. The object began to buzz and vibrate and she tightened her muscles to contain it. A moan whispered past her lips.

His hand began a rhythmic rise and fall as he spanked her, turning her buttocks first pink and then bright red. When he was satisfied with the shade he had produced, he paused and pulled something else out of his bag.

"Don't stop!" she pleaded.

"No, I'm not going to stop!" He parted her buttocks and she felt a hard, slim object pressing into her there.

She tried to wriggle back onto it and he administered a sharp spank. "If you move one more time, I promise you you will not enjoy what I do to you!" he told her sternly.

"Ohhh!" she moaned. "I need you to fuck me!"

"Where, little girl? Where do you want to be fucked? Here, or here?" and he touched first one opening and then the other.

"Either! Both! Yes!" Almost incoherent with desire, she rubbed her breasts against his thigh.

"I warned you!" he said sadly, and he began to plunge the slimmer vibrator into the tight channel.

A keening started deep in Georgia's throat as she began to come. Leaving that vibrator in place, the stranger withdrew the one between her thighs and Georgia shook from the force of her orgasm. She barely had time to enjoy the aftermath when she heard him unzip his trousers.

Hard, aroused flesh butted against her abdomen, and then she was lifted and settled onto his lap, his erection sliding easily into her. He pulled her manacled wrists over his neck. His arms surrounded her and together they established a rhythm that nudged them closer and closer to the mountaintop.

He braced her legs wide apart and stood, still buried deep inside her. Leaning her back against the wall, he held her motionless as his lower body pounded into her. Doubly invaded, by both him and the vibrator, she was helpless to do anything but enjoy his forceful possession of her body.

His hard cock tantalized her, withdrawing, almost leaving her empty, and then surging forward to fill her deeply, stretching her to take all his thick girth. The fingers of one hand found the bundle of sensation hidden in her curls and he pinched and stroked it until he could feel her inner muscles clenching around him.

It was only then that she realized he had not allowed himself to come.

But as her intruder had promised, he had given her a mind-blowing orgasm!

Georgia was helpless, impaled by the intruder's hard, hot cock between her thighs, violated by the vibrator imbedded between her shapely buttocks. Her legs forced wide apart and her wrists manacled by softly lined handcuffs, she was at the mercy of the large male body that was taking its pleasure of her.

She groaned with repletion. Then blunt fingers touched the spot hidden in her folds and her nipples peaked and heat pooled in her abdomen.

"I'm not nearly finished with you, little girl!" he whispered. Large palms covered her breasts and teased her nipples until they tightened almost painfully.

He slipped a soft strip of material over her eyes and tied it snugly, then pulled the tank top over her head and let it dangle from her imprisoned arms. For the first time his mouth touched hers. Pulling back slightly, he ran his tongue over his lips, then transferred the moisture to her lips. Letting them glide back and forth, exerting a steady pressure, he compelled her mouth to open and admit him. For long moments he stroked her tongue, then lured it into his mouth and suckled it voraciously.

As suddenly as he had seized her mouth, he released it. "No!" she moaned.

"No," he agreed, his voice so low she knew she would never be able to recognize it from all the voices of Section.

He raised her up off his rigid length and let her feel the contours of his body as he set her on her feet. He was still fully dressed. Concentrating on the senses that remained available to her, she leaned back against the wall and fought to bring her breathing under control, listening carefully. A whisper of sound indicated that he was quickly shedding his clothing.

She started as strong hands cupped her shoulders and pressed her down onto her knees. "Now, little girl, you're going to take me into your hot mouth and you're going to show me how much you like sucking cock!"

Her lips parted in excitement and he took advantage of that to slide his length into her mouth. Bracing herself against his thighs, she began licking him, exploring the tip of his aroused flesh, tasting the dew that beaded there. Her hands cupped and fondled the twin sacks that swung between his legs.

He rocked faster and faster into her mouth, his fingers restlessly massaging her scalp. She eased a finger between his buttocks and searched for the tight opening there, then drove her finger all the way in.

He groaned and jerked out of her mouth, then pulled her hand away from him, wincing as her finger freed him. "Damn!"

She realized she had hurt him. He must be a stranger to activity in that area, and she sneered. "Get used to it, *honey bunch*, if you want to play in the big leagues!"

A low growl was the only signal that she had gone too far. He dragged her up to her feet and hauled her along behind him. A hard shove sent her backward onto the bed. Her hands scrabbled for the blindfold, but he was on her before she could yank it off. Flipping her over onto her stomach, he removed the slim vibrator and flung it across the room.

A large hand on her lower back held her firmly in place. One knee rested on the bed next to her hips, giving him the leverage he needed. With unvaried repetition, his other hand rose and fell, punishing the valentine op with hard spanks that turned her derriere rosy red. She kicked her legs in protest, and earned herself one last swat.

The intruder hoisted her up on her knees and positioned himself behind her. Parting her buttocks, he pressed his thick cock into her snug opening and slowly began to fuck her ass. His arms went around her and he kneaded her breasts, pinching her nipples. He leaned over her back and found the spot where her neck and shoulder joined. Brushing her long hair aside, he fastened his teeth there. As he bit and sucked, driving her to madness, he continued measuring his length in her, stroking harder and faster.

His fingers curved around her hip and plunged into her, enabling him to feel himself through the thin layer of tissue that separated her two passageways. The movements brought them both closer and closer to climax.

Georgia's intruder felt his balls tighten and then he began coming inside her ass, his hips jerking convulsively. "Take it all!" he whispered hoarsely. "Take everything I can give you!"

That order was all Georgia needed to topple her over the edge. As he continued fucking her with his fingers, a high-pitched keening filled the room.

****

With a deep groan, the intruder separated himself from Georgia. That had been the best fuck of his life! If it resulted in his cancellation, it would be well worth it!

Now, was he going to be able to get out of Georgia's quarters without revealing his identity? Cautiously he propped himself up. The valentine op was sprawled slackly upon her bed. Her thick lashes fanned across her cheeks concealing the ennui that usually stared out at the world. He had caused her to faint!

Not daring to question his luck, he gathered up his clothing and let himself out of her quarters.

The gods were truly favoring him. There was no one around to observe his naked dash to his own quarters. Quickly he showered and changed into his white work uniform.

The clothes he had carried back from Georgia's still bore her scent. Carefully he folded them, running his fingers almost reverently over them. Then he placed them in a box and tucked it away at the back of his cupboard.

A glance at the clock told him he was running slightly behind, but that was one of the perks of being head of your department: no one would dare question him if he was late.

****

Georgia's lashes fluttered open. For a moment she couldn't recall where she was. He body ached pleasurably and she stretched with a satisfied groan. The constriction of her hands brought her total recall. The blindfold hung lopsidedly over one ear. A flush of desire mounted her cheeks and she sat up quickly, searching the room for her assailant, but she was alone.

A wave of disappointment swept over her. Glumly she rose to her feet, wincing slightly. She pulled at the handcuffs, wondering how she was going to explain this to her department head. Then she saw she wouldn't need to: he had left the tiny key to the cuffs on the night stand.

Observing it for a brief moment, she picked it up and removed the handcuffs. Her tank top fluttered to the floor, ignored. Stroking the cuffs with a curiously hesitant finger, she decided to keep silent about the whole incident. She gathered up the two vibrators and tucked all the paraphernalia away in her trophy drawer.

Bruises were blooming all over her body. Her arms and legs felt stiff, the bite on the side of her neck stung, her ass was a little sore and her buttocks felt warm from her spanking. A hot shower would be just the thing to ease her aches.

As she stood under the spray, she considered all the men she knew in Section. One of them had just fucked her silly.

Now if she could just figure out who it was.

And how she could get him to do it again!

********************

Greg Hillinger, up and coming comm op at Section One, was stretched out on his bed, leaning back against his pillows. He heaved a huge sigh and shifted uncomfortably, having fallen asleep fully clothed.

The front of his jeans was saturated with his own semen.

He had had the mother of all wet dreams!

Well, that's what he got from eating a heavy late night snack and watching Channel 185. And now that he thought of it, the food had tasted slightly...off.

He plucked at his jeans, then slid off the bed and made his way into the bathroom.

It only took a moment to shed his sticky clothing and turn on the shower. He stepped under the spray and let the tepid water pound against his body, teasing his cock into a state of semi arousal. He lathered up and covered himself with a slick layer of soap.

His hands carefully massaged the twin sacks between his thighs, and worked the suds into the cleft between his buttocks. As the water pelted down on him, rinsing him clean, his erection became harder and he was unable to resist touching it.

His fingers encircled his cock and he began stroking faster and faster. Images of his dream flashed before his mind's eye, raising his level of excitement. What he had done to the valentine op, what she had done to him. He felt the pressure building up, and he wanted more.

Sliding a soaped finger into his ass, he bent at the waist, as if offering his butt for the use of a partner. His hand gripped harder and his finger went deeper and he fell to his knees as the water poured over him. And then his balls tightened and he was coming, spurting between his fingers, shaking and trembling. Soft moans whimpered past his lips.

It was only when the water took on a distinct chill that he was able to rouse himself and climb out of the shower. His movements sluggish from satisfaction, he dried himself off and toweled the moisture from his hair. Tying the bath sheet around his waist, he staggered into his bedroom and pulled out clean clothes.

A new day had started and he needed to get some breakfast and head over to see how he could torment Birkoff today. He dressed and combed his hair neatly, then went to the commissary to see what Christopher, the chef, was offering for the morning meal.

On the way he passed Walter's quarters. The weapons op was just pulling his door closed quietly. "Greg, m'boy! How ya be?" he whispered.

"Ummmm, I'm fine Walter. Why are we whispering?"

Walter flashed a rakish grin. "Got a lady in there!" he nodded toward his rooms, looking smugly proud. "Poor thing's all worn out! I thought I'd pick up something from the commissary and offer her breakfast in bed!"

Greg felt a frisson of unease tiptoe down his spine, but decided to ignore it. "I was just going down there myself," he remarked.

"Well, then, I'll tag along!" Walter gave him an avuncular slap on the back, and Hillinger stumbled forward, nearly losing his balance.

The comm op smiled weakly and waited as the older man fell into step beside him.

"So, watch any good TV lately, Greg?"

Hillinger swallowed his gasp wrong and began to choke.

"You okay, boy?"

All he could do was nod helplessly as he continued trying to catch his breath.

They entered the commissary and Hillinger came to a dead halt, causing Walter to step on his heels. The room wasn't overly crowded with operatives, but it seemed that way to the comm op.

Birkoff was seated across from the most beautiful woman Greg had ever seen. And despite the fact that Michael was next to Birkoff, the woman only had eyes for his department head.

Michael had Nikita's hand secured in his own. His fingers caressed hers in what had to be a prelude to lovemaking. Never had Hillinger seen anything so erotic with the participants fully clothed!

Operations and his brunette assassin were side by side, and she was actually feeding him slices of fruit from her plate. From where he stood, Greg could see that the head of Section One was fondling her thigh under the table!

Madeline was off to the side, intently examining a file of what *looked* to be reports. Greg discovered he didn't want to know exactly what the reports might actually be.

And then he spotted the valentine op, Georgia. She sat next to a very large man dressed in the whites of a dietary op: Christopher, the martinet who ran the commissary as if it was his own private kingdom. Their forks were poised in midair, and their gazes were locked. They were devouring each other with their eyes.

He remembered the odd taste of his snack.

He remembered the astounding vividness of that dream.

And Greg couldn't help but wonder: had it been a dream?

Or had his unauthorized use of Section's cable access been discovered.

Greg took a seat away from everyone else and tried to make himself as small as possible.

If that had been his punishment, then it had been made to fit the crime.

~Fin~