The client's request was a little unusual. When Bob first told me, I thought he was kidding.
"They are serious. I know that because they have already wired $200,000 to our account." Bob liked to use the word "our" to refer to the business we were both in. I did not share his enthusiasm.
"There is no 'our', Bob. You know how much I dislike how that word sounded. It is as if we are in a relationship." I stepped out of bed and pulled back the blinds. The sun was peeking out of the morning clouds.
"Correction, the business has just received a transfusion of cash. They agreed to our usual arrangement, half up front, half after the job is completed." Bob liked to use the plural "they" to refer to the client, even it was just one person.
Bob and I had been business partners for the last five and the half years. He did the brain work. I was the muscle. We were successful because very few people could visualize an attractive white woman killing with her bare hands. This was as true in the Far East as anywhere else in the world.
Bob and I argued about many things, mostly about operational details and tactics. But we never disagreed about how we would split the money. When it's time to go separate ways, we agreed that it would be right down the middle.
We both knew the risks were substantial in this business. I did all the physical work. So the risk of injury or death if something went wrong fell squarely on my shoulders. If I were captured, it was understood that Bob would hire someone to rescue me. But if I died, Bob would pocket all the money.
Similarly, if Bob died, I would be the only heir of the secret account we had set up in the Bahamas. In quiet moments, Bob let me know he thought he was shouldering his fair share of the risks. After all, I was invisible to our clients, who never knew who carried out the hit. They only know Bob.
"The client does not want him to be killed. They only want him to be humiliated, in a way he would never forget." Bob wrapped his arms around me. He moved a few strands of my blonde hair behind my right ear. No matter high many times we've been in this hotel, the stunning Hong Kong skyline never failed to amaze us.
"What does the client want me to do to him?" I turned around and asked. Bob was naked except for his boxers. I had my black bra and faded blue jeans.
"They want you to lure him to a hotel room, force him to masturbate, and then swallow his own semen." Bob took out his Kindle Fire and clicked on a picture. The target was an Asian man in his fifties, overweight with a pot belly, with narrow eyes, fleshy face, and a double chin.
"Any information on how tall he is? It's hard to tell from the picture."
"He's about five foot six at most." Bob moved his index finger across the seven-inch screen, bringing up another picture of the target. This time, the target was standing next to Mr. Leung, the chief executive of Hong Kong. It looked like some kind of fund raising event.
"What has he done to deserve our services?" I had used the word 'our' accidentally. But he did not pick it up.
"He must have stepped on the toes of some very powerful people. Maybe he said something in public that he shouldn't have. Or maybe he embarrass someone but not giving them the proper respect." We usually do not ask any questions about motive. All the client had to have was the cash.
"You mean he did not give face to an important man in Hong Kong?"
"Yeah, face no good and no give, or whatever fucking way the locals would say." Bob did not like it that I spoke fluent Cantonese. My parents had given me an upbringing that was invaluable in this business.
"How am I supposed to get in touch with this man?" I pointed to the JPEG picture on Bob's new tablet.
With a flick of his hairy wrist, Bob brought up a picture of an office building. The Bank of China building, designed by the famous American architect I.M. Pei, was one of the most recognizable landmarks in Hong Kong.
"The target's name is Mr. Henry Chen. Tomorrow afternoon at four, you have an appointment to interview for the job of translator. Mr. Chen is fluent only in Cantonese and Mandarin. He is planning to travel to Arkansas next month for an important meeting with the largest retailer in the world."
"Am I the only candidate?"
"No. I hacked into his calendar and found out he will be interviewing four women. Two of them are brunettes, and one of them a redhead. You are the only one that is his type." Bob winked at me as he said that. It seemed that gentlemen preferred blondes, even in China.
"I show up at four, charm the hell out of him, let him take me out to dinner, have too many drinks, and then check into a hotel." We were used to rehearsing the steps the night before the action. Over planning did not work for us. There had to be room for improvisation.
"The client wants the action to be videotaped," Bob handed me a smart phone. "Save it under this file." Bob clicked on a folder marked "Confidential – do not delete!"
"So this is about blackmail in addition to humiliation?"
"I think so. Anyway, the client also wants me to travel with him to Arkansas. We are leaving first thing in the morning." He handed me my return tickets to the states. "I will meet you at the Dallas airport."
The hotel phone screamed at five in the morning. It was Bob's wakeup call from the operator downstairs. We ordered room service before he left for the airport.
After a hot shower, I discovered that Bob had left a card under my pillow. It simply said happy birthday. My birthday was next week, on the day I would return to Dallas. Bob was sweet, and he was good in bed, but I never wanted the complications that came with a relationship.
I spent the rest of the morning shopping for the right outfit. It had to be both professional enough not to arouse any suspicions. But it also had to be sexy enough to catch Mr. Chen's eye.
The top was easy. I found a cream-colored blouse that was a little translucent. He would see a silhouette of my bra, and a peek of my cleavage if I leave the top button undone. With a dark jacket, I could shrug my shoulders and display just the right dosage of skin.
The pencil skirt was tougher to find. The typical Chinese woman was shorter than my five foot nine frame. I had a narrow waist, so the skirts I tried on came down to only mid-thigh, leaving six inches of bare skin above my knee, even when I was standing up. Factoring the three inch hike, the hem of the skirt would move dangerously close to my panty line when I sat, especially if Mr. Chen had a low chair in his office.
It took me until lunch to find the right skirt in an obscure corner of a shopping mall in Kowloon, a subway ride away from Hong Kong. I returned to the hotel, ordered room service again, and took a nap. An hour before the appointment, I showered again, dressed, and called downstairs to have a taxi ready for me.
Arriving ten minutes early, I rode the elevator to the sixty-ninth floor. There were security personnel and security cameras everywhere, but nobody stopped me to check my purse. Even if anyone did, I did not bring any weapons.
A petite woman greeted me at the lobby of the sixty-ninth floor. Within a minute, I was in the presence of Henry Chen. His eyes zeroed in on my legs as soon as I walked in.
"Please sit down." He waited for me to sink into the large chair opposite him before he sat down.
"I spent the first sixteen years of my life living in Hong Kong, so I speak fluent Cantonese and Mandarin." I spoke to him using Cantonese.
"Very impressive." He replied, also in Cantonese. "None of the other candidates today spoke as fluently as you." He switched to Mandarin.
"Thank you. I had the opportunity of total immersion. My parents were missionaries who believed in learning the local language to be effective." I switched to Mandarin as well.
"I have decided to offer you the job. What does it take to convince you to take the job?"
"Well, a girl has to eat. Are there any good restaurants around here?"
"Hong Kong has the best restaurants in the world? May I have the pleasure of buying you dinner?"
"Sure," I said, hoping he did not suspect that I was too easy. "Where are you taking me?"
"Peninsula Hotel, where the Queen of England dined on her last trip. I am calling my driver to take us there now."
Peninsula Hotel, Hong Kong
Henry ordered way too many dishes, trying to show off his purchasing power. He also had too many drinks. I had a few drinks, but stayed sober. When he thought I was drunk, he suggested that we talked more about the job in another location.
He closed the door to the hotel room as I pretended to slump on the bed. He removed my five-inch heels carefully, then removed his own shirt and pants. When he was down to his underpants, I sat up on the bed.
"Henry, let me freshen up in the bathroom."
"Okay, I'll be waiting." He helped me to my feet.
I closed the bathroom door, opened my purse, and removed the knife I had stolen during dinner.
Henry knocked on the door. "Everything okay inside?"
"Just a minute." I flushed the toilet.
"Can you come in and help me?" I opened the door a crack.
When Henry stuck his face in, I punched him. He bent over and coughed. Without letting him recover, I kicked him in the crouch. He coughed again.
"Listen carefully," I made sure he can see the knife. "You will not be hurt if you do exactly as I say." I switched on the television and turned up the volume.
"What do you want? I have plenty of money and will pay you twice what they pay."
"I am not interested in your money. Like I said, do what I tell you and you will walk out of here tonight." I did not need to tell him the alternative. He was shaking.
"Strip off your underwear," I took out the smart phone and activated the camera.
He was obedient. When he was completely naked, I resumed my commands. "Get on your knees." I adjusted the cell phone camera on the bed.
"Play with yourself by using your right hand. See a song while doing it." The commands sounded cartoonish in Cantonese. But they worked.
Henry Chen closed his eyes and sang a song I was not familiar with. His breathing became more rapid. It was over in just two minutes. Fear was a powerful aphrodisiac.
"Don't lose a drop of it. I want to see you lick every drop of it."
Again, he complied without a hint of protest. I held the knife's edge against his neck until he swallowed every last drop.
"When I walk out of here, go take a shower and stay in your room until the next day. Understand?" He nodded meekly, looking more like a six-year old child then a fully-grown man.
The flight back was long but uneventful. Miraculously, every connection was on time. During the layover in Chicago, I left the airport, went to the Magnificent Mile, and bought new clothes and shoes. Bob and I had recently started a new tradition. Each time a mission was completed, I would surprise him.
All eyes were on me as I walked through the long airport concourse. Bob was double parked outside the terminal. Leaning against the passenger's door, he waved at me and smiled. I struggled a little on my six-inch stilettos, holding my miniskirt down when a wind gust hit me sideways.
Bob handed me the keys. He knew I liked the thrill of pushing the BMW to its limits after an overseas mission.
"Our client was very happy. The second half already in our account." Bob used the word "our" again. But I let it go.
"Awesome," I said as I gunned the engine. As I headed north toward the Oklahoma border, Bob unzipped my jacket, revealing a lacy red bra. He reached behind me to find the hook. I elbowed him away.
"Anything wrong?" He asked.
"Nope. But I'm driving and it's dangerous."
He ignored me and extended his right palm on my thigh. His left hand hiked up my skirt, revealing a pair of red G-string panties.
I stepped on the accelerator and moved the needle to ninety. Holding the wheel with one hand, I let my other hand wander to his chest. With one quick movement, I tore off the buttons on his shirt.
"Continue?" He asked.
I responded by unzipping his fly.
"I guess that's a yes." He mumbled to himself.
"Just shut up and act like a man. I'm done making the decisions." My tone was playful.
With that, he buried his head between my thighs, just under the steering wheel. He bit on my panties, ripping them out.
"Don't stop there." I cried out.
He slapped my thighs a few times, then planted his lips on the wet folds of skin. His wicked tongue plunged into me.
"Ouch." I dragged the word out and moaned in a flirty way.
The full moon was visible and the street lights occasionally appeared. Otherwise, it was dark in the car, except for the reflected light from the dashboard. Bob decided to push his pants down to his knees. I let him guide my free hand to his crotch.
"Can you feel my heart beating for you?" Bob surrounded his fingers around the fingers of my right hand, pressing hard against his own throbbing cock.
"I could both hear and feel your fucking heartbeat." I laughed as I transferred control of the gas pedal from the right foot to my left. The car was now completely driven by my left foot and my left hand.
Bob caught my right ankle and held it up to spread my legs. He lowered his neck until it was below the back of my right knee. When he sat upright again, my legs were forced apart, with one ankle trapped behind his neck, and another on the gas pedal. I eased up so the car was moving just below the speed limit of sixty-five.
With my free hand, I stroked his slowly enlarging dick. Bob returned the favor by inserting a finger into my wet cunt. We synchronized the rhythm, trying not to move too fast, saving ourselves until we could pull over at the next gas station.
"Let's pulled over here." Bob pointed to a gas station on the outskirts of Sherman, Texas, some ten miles south of the Oklahoma border. As I drove to the exit ramp, another car drove next to us. The brightly lit gas station threw some light into both our vehicles. There were two occupants in the Ford Taurus.
Bob bent down his head so I could put my legs together. I was too busy to see whether they had noticed what we were doing. Both my hands were now on the steering wheel.
"I need to go to the bathroom." Bob pulled up his pants and hopped out of the car.
I pulled down my skirt, zipped out my jacket, and filled up the gas tank. The only other car in the gas station was the Taurus. When Bob returned, I went to the bathroom as well.
When I emerged from the bathroom, the two strangers had handguns in their hands. One of them was pointed at Bob. The other at me. The clerk behind the counter had mysteriously disappeared.
The two men looked like brothers, one of them two or three inches taller than the other.
"Whore, turn around to face the wall, drop your bag on the floor, and place both hands high above your head where I can see them." The accent was Hispanic, matching the face.
I looked around to see who he was talking to. I was the only woman.
"Do it now, or say goodbye to Bob."
I realized what was going on. If they knew Bob's name, they also knew how dangerous I was, diminishing the chance of counter action. I did everything he said.
My bag was kicked away from me. A hood was immediately placed over my head. I could no longer see what was happening to Bob. After a rough search, my jacket was removed, leaving only my bra and miniskirt. My arms were twisted behind me and secured with plastic cuffs.
The next thing I could feel was a needle inserted in my neck.
When I regained consciousness, I was tied spread eagled to the four corners of a king-sized bed. The bed was in the middle of a basement. Two cameras, with blinking red lights, were mounted on the ceiling.
"Don't move," the taller brother straddled my stomach. His knife followed the outline of my bra. With one quick motion, he cut the thin strap linking the two cups together. My breathing became shallow and erratic.
"Ready for a good time?" the younger brother continued. The accent was identical.
I was gagged and could not reply. But I shook my head in defiance.
The brothers smiled and winked at each other.
"Let's make sure she understands she is in no position to say no." The shorter said to the taller.
The hem of my skirt was gathered together and tucked into the waistband. My bra straps were pushed over my shoulders, the back hook still holding it together. I was pushed until my head hung off the edge of the bed. The world looked upside down.
Singing the same song as Henry in Hong Kong, both men circled the bed. A minute later, the tall man jumped on the bed, knelt on my thighs, and squeezed my nipples until I cried out behind the gag.
"Let's hear her screams," the shorter said as he removed my gag. He yanked at my hair so my head slid down as far as my tied ankles would allow me. He knelt down and slapped me with his hard cock.
"Let me go, you two motherfuckers, and fight me like real men." I yelled.
The tall man shifted his weight so he was no longer on my thighs. He spit on his fingers and inserted two of them into my cunt.
"Shut up or I start removing body parts." A knife was held between my breasts. I froze.
The rapid movement of his fingers opened me up. I was so wet I could feel it on my inner thighs. He sensed it as well, inserting more fingers, until eventually his entire fist was inside me.
"Open up." The short brother squeezed my cheeks to force apart my lips. He tried to push his cock into my mouth, but I pushed him out with my tongue.
"Do what he says," the knife moved from my cleavage to the right tit.
I opened my mouth as wide as it could go, accepting the throbbing organ. At the same time, the other cock entered my cunt. This was the first time I had been fucked from both ends. The endorphins in my body shot through the roof.
I wanted to scream, but choked whenever I tried to. Breathing was now possible only through my nose. I fought for oxygen, my chest heaving and struggling, the cold steel of the knife preventing me from breathing too hard.
The brothers timed their movements so they both came at the same time.
"Swallow all of it." My nose was pinched and the knife pressed harder on my chest. They remained inside me until they saw my neck muscles moved to accept every drop.
"Let's check the video to make sure we got a crystal clear recording. Otherwise we'll fuck her again."
They ejected the tape, and placed both copies on the bed.
A minute later, the brothers cut the ropes. The door to the basement opened and Bob walked in.
The brothers left, leaving me alone with Bob.
"Thank you. This is the best birthday present anyone had given me."
I jumped on top of him and fucked him until we both passed out.
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