Red X: Captives

"Please... Mr Pryce," she teased him, snickering. "Please? I really want you to, Mr Pryce." She grinned like faerie magic, everytime she said "Mr Pryce." She was cute, but dangerously sexy.

"Can you have me... as your little pet slut?" She tilted her head coyly.

"Uhh," he objected, "I can't describe you like that, right now."

Hell. The yacht, and the rich pigs, and the dozens of women trained to be fuck-slaves. Pryce had uncovered that chain, and broken it apart. 'Bedroom whore' wasn't a cute game anymore. Prija slinked back with embarrassment.

Pryce wouldn't mention Selene, or how he said this to her... to test her. Selene's secret wasn't about being promiscuous. It was about treason.

Prija was beyond all this.

"Could I be your lover, then? Could it be love?" The words were clear like music.

He let her words drift. He took a breath before answering.

"Perfect." It sounded complete, like total agreement. He said something in the silence between words.

She sat straight, and looked at him. Her mouth hung open. She shook her head slowly and loosely.

"I want you."

His hand sculpted around her face, and guided her back to his kiss. He licked broadly inside her mouth, holding her head with his hands. He groaned lightly, like falling. He paused, and pressed his forehead to hers. This was something they shared.

She was smart, honest, sweet... a beauty, with rivers of dark hair, and long shiny glances. And she liked him, even knowing about his work...

Would she forgive him, when she learned about his reputation? Would she be afraid? She wanted him, right now. She wanted to be in his bed, to be warmed by his hands, and to be touched by his skin. He knew what this was. He didn't want it to slip by. Not for another second. This was the moment. It wouldn't be tomorrow, or any other time. Only now.

He slid away his boxers. He sucked her lips once, twice, then laid her out on the bed. He stopped, and simply admired her. She was naked, spread open on his bed. Somehow, she looked warm... like a dinner. Like something welcoming. Like home.

Horrible guilt loomed inside him, like a growing black monster. He dreaded who he was - HOW he was - as an agent. "The Sixth Bullet." The death knell...

He looked at her, and his vision swam. God - this was really happening. She'd laid her body out for him. She spread herself, and would let him fuck her... and this was his Prija, his only love in so many empty years.

She only grinned naughtily. She fumbled with the TV remote, flipped to a porn channel, and giggled. She tossed the remote aside.

On TV, two white women were taking turns blowing a well-hung black man.

Prija widened her legs, then curled her pelvis up to meet him. Her labia were such lovely, coffee-dark treats. They were glistening from within - from somewhere, in deeper flesh. Their wetness came from a place where only emotion has control. If she desired him, her body would drool. She couldn't fake that. She really wanted him. Her shining crease said it all.

She humped her pelvis slowly, like she to wanted to gulp him.

She slid her palms up to caress her body. Her thighs were spread, blooming open like a flower. Her belly was taut, and smooth, and light brown. Her ribs were little cages that strained when she inhaled. Her breasts were smooth, round bubbles that bobbed when she turned. They were like cute jellies with rich, dark points. Her tits were tender and precious. They were treasures kept close to her lovely heart.

Her palms warmed her hips, and sides, and coasted up her stretching ribs. She clenched and kneaded her boobs enticingly.

He knelt on the bed, then crouched down like a predator. He stared up, hotly, and prowled closer to her thighs. His hands fit under her knees, and lifted her legs back. His face met with long, smooth skin, and her firm little ass. He bent her farther, pressing her back, and he found the little dark cakes hidden between her legs. Their colour was like a black blush, and they were layered with pink and honey.

To Pryce, she tasted divine, but her sprawling limbs were even better. The more she writhed, the more he loved it. He was inspired to suck her, and clean her lips with his tongue. This was Prija, and now he could express everything to her. He moved to her slippery nub, and slurped it like a noodle.

She tucked, and squirmed down the bed. He followed her around, and they were sucking each other in turn. Pryce's erection heightened, whenever she moved it. To her, it was something like a thick, heavy carpenter's tool... but warm and salty. And slowly throbbing. Pulsing. It filled itself stiffer and stiffer, and harder than ordinary flesh. This wasn't just a long, thick, dense man-thing. It absolutely bloated with girth... and it clenched its mass, and it was all because of her. She was the magic ingredient that summoned this insane beast. She and Pryce came together like an eclipse. This sex would be phenomenal.

She paused.

"Please, Lover... lie on me, and fuck me..."

Pryce's manhood was tapping up to his belly. Tapping, pulling, flexing hard... Impatient surges, tipped with dribbles of hot white.

He climbed over her. Her brow rose with anticipation. She smiled a little, and nodded... more like shivering.

"Please... screw me. Please? SCREW me, Lover. Right now."

He bent close, and his face hovered over hers. He was compelled to dip into her mouth. It wasn't just a kiss. He wanted to lick through her saliva. He wanted to savour her wet tongue. He wanted to taste her shining teeth.

Ohh, Prija...

His hands guided her. She felt him positioning her, holding her by the hip.

He lined her up, and it happened.

"AWGH!" she grunted, as his cock skewered in. In the first lunge, she grabbed at the sides of the bed. Too big! WAYYY too big - oh, fuck - oh, god... it was going to stretch her out, till she was hollow. She felt like her bones would split. All her cum smeared to squeeze him in. She gulped back her breath. She struggled with the shock.

He drew back some of his length.

"MLUHH!" she heaved. Every shove of his cock jolted her along the mattress. He fucked with force. With need.

Inside him, inside his desire, Pryce wanted to hammer his nail fully through the wall and out the other side. He wanted to dig his root so deep, any seed would plant into the absolute heart of the world. He wanted it to wallow in that deep warmth for generations. Her pussy was the coin slot, and he'd penetrate so far he'd rob the goddamn bank. This was lust that precedes language. His desire? He wanted to bury himself in her.

On TV, one of the women was kissing the black man, as he sat. She swished her hair aside and necked with him. He reached over to slowly, firmly clench her breasts. The other woman rode his standing cock, all the way up, and then all the way in... Long, smooth pumping. Like a white marshmallow, slowly impaling on a stick.

Pryce hovered over Prija's gentle tits, then lapped his tongue around one. He tasted the salt of sweat, and then the subtler hints of her skin. Her soft, caramel skin curved the bulge of her breasts. He slurped long and warm over her boob, and began suckling at her nipple. He looped it with his tongue, and pulled it with his wet mouth. He pulled it into his mouth, and whorled her dark nipple with saliva.

"Ohhhh..." she smiled. There was sweat on her brow, from the intensity of penetration. She closed her eyes. "You like my tits? Baby? Mmm? I like... like how you suck them."

She lifted her arms slowly, and cradled his head. She held him, dearly, while he tasted her. Slowly, she bridged her body upward, pushing her breasts proudly to his face. They were smaller, and smooth, and elegant - like she was. She had beautiful breasts, and they were natural. They were pure. They were hers.

The TV had harder moaning, as the black man mounted a woman and railed in deep. He fed her long, dark iron, and she groaned desperately. His cock filled her. She strained every time it entered - that massive dick pushed right up to her guts. The other woman lay close behind and licked at the man's balls. She held his leg, and slurped his nuts and taint while he humped. She reached in, and licked the sex right at the point of penetration. She gave long, sloppy licks, and moaned through her open mouth. Pussy-cum dribbled from her chin. It was base, hard-core fucking. Late-night TV.

Pryce pumped longer, and harder. He reached down to her, and thumbed her tiny clit.

Like the red button on the president's desk, this was the sweet pink button. The president makes nukes fall from the sky. Pryce summoned a holy miracle with her one, cute, pink button.

She only gasped once. Then she shrieked, she clawed, she jumped up to his shoulder, she bit - and he slapped her back down by the chest. She gritted her little teeth, and strained, and ejaculated over his swinging balls. He kept fucking, never stopping, even as her juices trickled off his genitals.

He still held her down, his hand over her clavicle. His other thumb finished her off. She came twice... three times... maybe a fourth, but the intensity burned her out like a lightbulb. Her eyes glazed over, and her head lilted to the side.

He grappled close, and ratcheted his penis inside her. It was her, just trying to breathe, against the strength of his entire body.

She swallowed, and panted. His humping was accelerating. Faster - sharper - harder. Her ass and thighs spanked under his fucking. Her lower body nearly vibrated.

She watched the TV - more black men joined in, walking onto the set, taking turns fucking the two women. Five men total, all fucking these women, pumping them constantly. One man would climb off, and another quickly took his place. The first man jerked his cum all over a woman's cheeks, ear, and neck. The second reamed her pussy with long, steady humps. She crawled and writhed under him. His dick was long like a pole, and it smoothly lanced into her vagina. Then he'd drag his cock out, jerking himself to keep hard, and another man slid inside and bucked her. The other woman had been fucking the same partner, but sucked three different men in the last minute. Five men, two women - constant blowjobs and deep vaginal sex. After this scene, those women would be fucked limp.

Prija loved all of this. She wanted him to love it, also...

She tried to catch her breath. "Baby? Cum onto me? Onto my tits? Please? I want to see it. I want to see it fly out, all over my boobs. Everywhere. Cum, everywhere..."

Pryce rose up on his arms, and held her by the shoulders. It was like framing a picture. His favourite picture.

He made his knees into a bipod, and curled his lower body to pierce her. His legs tightened. His ass clenched smoothly, like a strong sexual athlete. His testicles were still wet from her ejaculation, and they bobbed quickly to his rhythm. He looked physically impressive, but only Prija could know about the rigid length of him inside her body. Only she experienced that hungry, bulging mass that insisted on plunging her... barging past her labia, bloating her pink tunnel, and testing her limit.

His manhood invaded her. They were both nakedly honest, and his strongest need was to seize her body and impale her vagina.

"Yes... Cum, please. You made me cum so much - I want your cum. I want to see, all over my tits." She leaned her head back, exposing her softest, most vulnerable skin.

"Spurt it everywhere, Lover. My breasts. My body. Splatter me."

Pryce climbed, grunting in every hard shove. He grit his teeth and panted desperately.

"Yessss... your semen, all over my breasts. My tits are waiting for you..."

He withdrew, like he was fucking Excalibur. He pulled her up by the arm as his cock shot her. His cock shot her, hard, and shot straight into her chest. There was a wet sound like "teppt" as it hit and gobbed aside.

He growled basely. Semen bolted from his raging cock, and slapped her skin. Streams of it milked out, and squirted her skin. His cum pelted her, then dribbled down her boobs. White slings decorated her young breasts. It strung in lagging, thick webs, and crawled lazily downward. It dropped slowly from her nipples. It drooped like messy white snot, like an embarrassing, sticky accident that had blown across her tits.

She wore so much of his enthusiastic cum, it was either insanely hot or absolutely fucking disgusting. She had pretty, pretty breasts that were now steaming from lines of sperm. This was something he couldn't fake, either. This was physical honesty. His body desired her so much, it exploded.

"...Unngh," he concluded. He held her shoulder, and his head bowed down.

She said nothing. Cum dribbled beneath her armpits, striped down her belly, and shone clearly from her two breasts, where they heaved... panting. Her boobs gleamed like moonlight, in the growing dawn.

She was quiet. She just sat with him, as he breathed. She reached her hand to his arm, then his shoulder... finally his cheek.

This was a heartbreaking moment.

"Come with you?" she asked meekly.

Pryce knew. She wasn't talking about cumming, or simultaneous orgasm. She wanted to follow him. To be with him.

Of course she couldn't. Not to The Agency. But she knew him, now, and what he did for a living. There'd be compromise. Would she be given a gag-order? No. More like witness protection. She'd seen faces in the underworld. She knew names and hierarchies. She had actively helped a field agent, during a crisis.

Pryce did what he was known to do - and by now, The Agency owed him. They'd have to accept her, because now she was part of his deal. And The Agency couldn't lose Pryce... they couldn't afford to.

Maybe he could find her a better arrangement. Maybe he could earn a better place for her?

Hell. Maybe he could pull some higher-profile ops for them, in exchange...?

He looked at her, and thought about her life. Her future. The freedom she now had, and what she might do.

She nodded at him, smiling brightly. Brighter and sweeter than dawn.

"I've missed you too, Prija."

She was quiet. She looked intrigued.

"Kid teung," he added. She exhaled. She looked like she'd held her breath for years.

Pryce stood, naked and sweaty, and stretched. His body was as tight as carved wood. His legs were vaguely shiny, and his penis still wagged forward... stiff, even now. His footpads seemed sudden and loud in that early hour.

"No," he told her, pacing the room. "You can't come with me... yet. I think I'll have a word with management, though."

His pacing became stalking. His mind was already on the hunt, finding the way for Prija.

He retrieved Selene's knife. He looked at it, balanced it in his hands, and laid it on the TV.

"Management... yeah, we'll have words." He sucked his teeth, and squinted.

"Why do you do this job? How are you so good?" She could tell he wasn't content with his work, and she tried to comfort him.

He turned to her again. He stood there, nude as a Greek statue, and tried to explain. He was explaining himself; he spoke with tones of exasperation:

"Okay. Let's say... let's say you're a werewolf. You don't want to be a werewolf, and everybody knows you're a werewolf. Eventually, you turn into a werewolf on the full moon, and you freak out. Everybody hates you for it. Y'know what? You get pissy, after a while. You get fuckin' resentful. What do you do? You fuckin' tear things up, as a werewolf. It's ironic, but it's your nature. You're a goddamned werewolf, and it just comes out... and now it comes out worse.

"Now - I'm good at what I do. Really good. People know I'm good. But it sets me apart, and marks me, and I hate that. I fuckin' hate it. I hate being an outsider. Right? They send me everywhere, because... I'm that good. I'm a freak, to them. I'm a fucking freak. I'm a victim of success... I'm a victim of my own damned success."

He took a breath.

"See, it tears me away from people. And I'm lonely, Prija. Really. And I'm angry. And the people who know this the most? My enemies. Because I take it out on THEM.

"Now, The Agency loves this... they see energy, and commitment. They love this heated, violent, toxic relationship I have with my enemies. I vent on my targets, Prija. It's destructive as hell... and it's pointed at the bad guys. My personal burden always comes down on them. It's my nature. I have nowhere else to put this...

"...rage."

He took a breath.

"The truth sucks, Sweetheart: you are what you are, whether you like it or not. I am... a badass agent. And I'm lonely. And I'm angry. All I can do is vent, and this makes me a badass. I'm trapped... in myself."

She sat up. Her hand found his arm. Her words lifted him with care, like cotton gloves:

"I like you... Devin. And I think I love you."

There was a stillness. He dropped his head. He had to travel to the other side of the planet to find closeness, but he found it.

"And besides... werewolves are sexy." She broke the tension.

He scoffed, then looked back at her affectionately. The wise, naked Thai girl in his bed. She liked werewolves.

He changed the subject.

"I guess we can order-in some food... watch TV... and I guess *AHEM* you've picked your favourite channel... Yeah, I think we can relax a bit."

She turned her head thoughtfully. "Devin? I don't think you relax. I noticed that, when we first met."

She knew who he was... and yet, here they were.

Chapter Seven: Cover-Up

"Ohh, you two are so CUUUUTE..." Ginny clapped her palms over her heart, and tilted her head. She sang this out in a playful voice, but she was sincere. She wore a snappy, fuchsia-coloured blazer.

"Ahh, shut up..." Pryce drawled back. He almost flicked a cocktail olive at her. His shirt collar widened as he sat back in the booth. Tendons in his neck stood out like bowstrings.

"Seriously, babe? I think she's a keeper. You gotta treat her right. Chocolates! First thing on the list! Be sweet - don't turn into 'Mr Gruffypants' with her, okay?" Ginny swallowed an unhealthy amount of her drink. It was something ridiculous, and polysyllabic, and very potent. She turned back to him.

"Pryce? Y'know what?" She licked her lips, and settled her eyes on him. She had a look of resolve.

"What." He spat this out plainly. He loved his friend Ginny, but her banter was like a fly in a lampshade.

"Maybe you should go with her."

"Like what," he scoffed, "like 'go to the prom?' Is that what you mean?"

"No. Undercover. Start in Thailand. She knows lots, already. And she's already off-the-grid, 'cuz that Li-Tien jerk abducted her. You two could be a lovely couple, operating from the shadows. You'd get some privacy, too. Man - your rep would disappear..."

Pryce's jaw went slack. In his mind, strange pieces clicked together.

"But... okay, well, what do you know about undercover, Ginny?"

"Plenty. I go all the time. It's what I do. The Agency sends me in, and I cozy up to the target, or his subordinates. The difference? It's long-term. You aren't deployed here for a week, and there for a month..."

Pryce shook his head.

"Uhh - spies? They're already 'undercover,' Ginny. You get that, right? By the way, uh... gimme your car keys."

"No, no - you play WITH the bad guys. That's the difference. See, you're always fighting your inner demons by taking assassination contracts, or wiping out some terrorist cell... Maybe you should try more cloak, less dagger. And your personal shit could just chill out, for once. 'Cuz you're always fighting yourself, y'know..."

She tipped her spectacles, and raised her glass. She'd just won a solid point. She turned aside, casually.

"I dunno, Pryce - it's just what I do. It's 'deep cover.' You get results... but with less effort. It's less stress, and more art. I'll find you a placement in Thailand. It's easy to get lost there. Just take a different approach." She sounded chirpy and helpful.