Exclusive Enterprise Pt. 01

They got back behind their lines just before four the following morning. He stopped into the medical tent and the surgeon there sewed him up and rebandaged his arm with waterproof wrappings. When he finally stumbled back to his bunk, exhausted, it was a little after six in the morning. He rolled into the bunk, not even bothering with the covers, and immediately fell asleep.

Later that day, when he finally awoke, he was on rest from his injury. Pulling out the kindle, he opened up her book and began to read. The very first thing he noticed was her excellent grammar and ability to write in an evocative way. The story was good, and the plot was well-developed as were the characters. The steamy parts, though. "Oh, Jesus," he breathed, imagining himself in the novel along with a certain red-haired woman he knew. He had to shift in his bunk so that no one would see how the book was affecting him. Finally, when he finished, a quick reader, he got up and had to go to the shower.

He was in the shower for a long while, the warm water cascading down his body in sheets as he slowly stroked his cock, thinking about the story and what it said about who Red was and what she liked. His grunted release, spraying the ground and then being washed away by the water caused him to smile and chuckle. It had been a while since he'd done that. And the thought of controlling her in such a way as her male character controlled his slave was not unappealing in the least. He dried off, checked the bandages to ensure they hadn't shifted or loosened, and put on fresh clothes before going to eat something, the images still floating around in his head. They wouldn't leave soon at all, he determined, and he didn't particularly mind.

Isabella found herself working hard on her next book. She was hoping that she'd make enough to be able to buy the lounge but didn't actually think she would. She wrote, edited, and then wrote again. Finally, she drew up her courage and sent another email.

My Soldier,

I hope you're doing well. I've missed you. I've been working on my second book. I'm hoping that I'll be able to buy the lounge. I'm going to miss this place when it's under new ownership. I'm not as young as I once was. I'm turning twenty-four next month.

Now, the purpose of this email isn't to belabor about my woes but to wish you a happy birthday. Becca said it was coming up soon, so I wanted to wish you well. If I have to move, I'll probably be without internet for a bit, but I'll try to get down to the coffee shop once in a while to send you an email.

All my love,

Your Angel,

Red

P.S. Since you're coming home soon. I'll give you my real name. Isabella "Red" McCallen

It was shortly after this email that he received another one, he had made a fairly healthy profit the past round or two. He wasn't stupid rich now, but a million in liquidity was sitting cool and pretty. That was on top of the original money still working to produce more. He had his friend set up an account that would give him enough interest to supplement his retirement from the Military and then started thinking about what he might do after he got out. The idea of trying to find a certain redhead and make a go of things sounded more and more appealing by the day.

They wrote back and forth a couple of times in the few weeks he had left, then found himself shipped back to Rammstein Air Force Base in Germany. His squad was sad to see him go, despite their continued opinion that he was a tech geek. Truth be told, he was sad to leave them. It is a strange thing, the way battle forges brothers, he mused. They had experienced hardship and pain together. And no one on the outside would ever truly understand. That alone made them close.

In Germany, he was put in a holding pattern for a few weeks while they awaited a few others that were going home and arranged transport. Some gear and materiel was heading back to the states with them. As he wandered the city one day, he found a small tattoo parlor and decided on a whim to get a tattoo. Instead of a unit insignia or something like that, though, he pulled out one of the images Red... Isabella, he corrected himself, had sent it to him. It was an image of a dragon, ice blue, coiled around and protecting a sleeping princess with red hair. Walking into the shop, he knocked on the door.

"Hello?" he called.

From the back, a deep voice answered, "Ja, ich kann dir helfen?"

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I don't speak German..."

"Oh! You are American, yes? Welcome. I asked... can I help you?" the man who walked out said. He was wearing a leather vest over a white, short-sleeved t-shirt and black denim jeans. Wiping his hand with a towel, he looked up at Vince, who had him by at least a foot.

Holding out the printed image so the man could see, he asked. "Can you do this one?" he asked, touching his upper chest over his heart. "Here?"

The man looked at it for a moment, then at Vince. "Yes, yes of course. I can do that one there." He gestured at the walls that had images of various pieces of skin with tattoos on them. "This is my work, yes? Yours will be just fine, I think..."

Vince nodded, then when the man held out his hand, he took a wad of francs out of his pocket and handed it to him. The man smiled and put it in his pocket without counting it and gestured toward a chair. Vince began pulling off his shirt and then sat down as the man got to work. He was there for seven hours. When he was finished, the man put a sanitary cover over it and gave him some wound care products and instructions before sending him on his way.

Isabella debated the whole sending him her real name for about a week, then moved on. He was on his way back to the states now. She didn't really expect to hear from him again but sent off a message. It basically said that he was welcome to keep emailing her when he got back to the states.

The munch was a bust. Too many bedroom Dominants and not enough real Masters. She sighed as she walked home, lost in thought. She was tired, tired of fighting, tired of singing, tired of everything. Maybe she should take a week or two off and just go reset in the mountains. She'd wait another month and then do that. She decided finally that she would see what happened with the lounge and if he contacted her once he was back in the states.

++++++++++

~~ Fort Bragg, North Carolina, 2077 ~~

When he got back to the states, he found himself some temporary housing on-base at Fort Bragg in North Carolina while he plotted out his next move. The first thing he did was pick out a used car in good condition, and purchase it for cash. The second thing he did was go and pick up a top-of-the-line laptop. He wasn't entirely sure what he was going to do, but whatever it was, he was certain it was going to involve computers. Then he got to work. Using her name and some skills he had picked up while in the Army, he tracked her down.

Isabella McCallen lived in Redwood Grove, California. She worked as a lounge singer for The Fox Club in Saratoga, California, about 35 minutes away. He nodded to himself as he began his deep dive on the Fox Club. He investigated the business, the owner, the location, all of it. The lounge was owned by Vernel and Doris Phelps. Both of them were in their seventies and were likely looking to retire. He couldn't blame them for that. Besides, San Jose and the surrounding area, while the area typically had nice weather, was not a place to retire without loads of cash reserves.

He reached out and made a few contacts. An inspector to look at and value the place, a general contractor that could take a look once he made the initial offer to see if any major repairs were needed, and a videographer to take some pictures of it for him. Then he made the phone call.

"Mister Phelps?" he asked when the line picked up.

"This is Mister Phelps," came the soft old voice, "How can I help you?"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. My name is Vince Fullbright. I understand you are interested in selling your business, The Fox Club, in Saratoga. I might be interested in purchasing it," he stated.

"Oh?" There was quiet for a moment, then Phelps continued, "I'd be interested, but there's one caveat in my contract that most people seem to be against. I've got a girl, she's worked here for going on six years as my lounge singer. She's got a ten-year contract. She'd need to stay for at least another four years with pay. She's a big draw, but... people have a problem with her lifestyle."

"Oh?" he asked, "I don't think that will be a problem. I hadn't really planned on making many changes. Maybe some advertising or something to drum up more business, but... I wasn't planning on cutting staff or anything," he observed. "I would like to have a couple of people come out and look at it to send me some information and pictures and video. See, I'm currently in North Carolina, but I'm not tied here. I'm sort of looking for my next... step in life, if you take my meaning."

"Oh sure, just let me know ahead of time. I'll have Red show them around, she's a good soul. We don't get around very easily anymore. California traffic is horrible." He was quiet, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Just have them call me and I'll arrange it."

"That sounds wonderful Mister Phelps. I'll give them your number. I look forward to seeing if we can do business together," Vince replied, smiling.

He then sent off an email to Isabella, telling her that he was back in the states and starting to arrange his life. Buying a car, trying to figure out what to do for work. Where he was going to live. All of that boring adult stuff. He told her that he thought about her daily and hoped she was doing well. He ended with the statement that he would like to work it out so that they could meet at some point, signing it, as he had become accustomed to: "Semper Fidelis, Your Soldier". But then adding his name, Vince Fullbright.

It was two weeks later that everything was arranged and he got the video and reports from the inspector. The building was sound and a good investment. The video, however, was what really opened his eyes. There was a walkthrough of it empty, but the videographer took it a step forward and videotaped it during the evening show so he could get an idea of how packed the place was.

His Angel was on stage and dressed to the nines, a slinky black dress that caressed her every curve. The sides were split to her thighs and around her neck was a sexy black collar with a heart-shaped locket. Her voice was low, sultry as she sang to the crowd, then she wrapped up and bowed, when she turned to clap for the band, her back was completely bare.

He paused the video and used the bathroom to relieve himself, the image of her body burned into his brain. When he sprayed into the sink with a growled, "BELLA!" he found himself gasping, seeing stars. Staring in the mirror, he chuckled, "Oh Vince... You've got it bad... You're so fucked," before he started cleaning up and re-composing himself.

A little while later his email chimed, it was from Isabella.

My Soldier,

I'm glad you're back in the states. Oh, adulting... sounds so much fun. Now, with regards to meeting up, I'd enjoy that. I'm in California so, if you're ever on the West Coast, send me an email and we can meet up. I don't expect you to come all the way out here for little old me. However, I've got tickets to GenCon in July of next year. If you're interested and can get a hotel, I'll give you the other ticket. It'd be nice to go with a friend.

Other news: My lounge owner is super excited, we had someone checking the place out. I'm going to miss him and his wife. She gave me a copy of her recipes, so I won't have to be without her cookies. They're hoping to move to Texas if the place sells. Evidently, it's cheaper there.

That's all for now on my end. Oh, I included a preview copy of my second book. Please let me know what you think but be kind, my editor hasn't seen it yet.

All my love,

Your Angel

Isabella 'Red' McCallen

After sending the email, she laid back in bed to think, after a few moments, she rolled to the side and pulled out her favorite vibrator. She relaxed back and gave herself numerous orgasms until she was breathless and her panties were drenched, but her fantasies and thoughts revolved around a man she didn't even have a picture of.

The valuation of the club came back at just over six hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It was not in a great location, but the foot traffic added value. He offered seven hundred, putting three hundred thousand down and financing the other four. When the deal was inked, he packed up his few belongings and tossed them into his car to begin the journey to California. When he stopped in Missouri, he checked his email and saw one from Isabella and one from his financial advisor. He opened the second one first. His advisor had taken a risk and locked a huge deal, taking his seed money and making him another two million in return after his friend took his cut. He shifted the money around, augmenting his retirement fund and then starting another that he would use for investment purposes. With a broad grin on his lips, he read Isabella's email.

Another book, he blinked. "Oh, Gods... if you only knew, Bella...," he breathed. He composed a quick email to her by way of reply.

My Angel,

I would love to go to GenCon, or anywhere else with you. We should absolutely plan for that. I am glad that your owner is happy about the idea of selling and retiring. I hope you are as happy with whoever purchases it as you were with them. I can't wait to read your new book. If it's half as good as the last one, I'm certain it will do remarkably well. You are an amazing woman, Isabella, and I am glad I can at least call you 'friend'. Will be a bit busy the next few days, but it shouldn't last too long. Hope this finds you well.

Semper Fidelis,

Your Soldier,

Vince Fullbright

He clicked send, and then set the laptop next to him to drive through a place to get some breakfast before driving on, simply enjoying being alive. The hotel he found in California wasn't extravagant but it wasn't overly expensive, either. It was still better than the military bunk, with hot running water.

++++++++++

~~ Saratoga, California. Just outside of San Jose, July 2077 ~~

The lounge was packed when he got there on Sunday. He could hear her singing on the stage, "I get dirty thoughts about you. They get worse when I'm without you. Does that mean that I'm going to hell? Or are you thinking them as well? Oh, I get dirty thoughts about you. They're so strong that I'm about to, say them all to you out loud. God can't save me now, oh. I'm frustrated. Do you really look good naked? And I know that it ain't that holy. But Lord I need this one night only."

The crowd was dancing and happily moving around as she sang, she wrapped up and bowed, "Thank you, thank you. So glad you could come out tonight. I'm going to take ten, you should all get a drink and relax. When I get back, we'll take it down a notch and relax. Slow dancing is on the table." Tonight she was dressed in a slinky gold dress that came to mid-thigh and was strapless and backless. She looked like sex on legs with her long red hair curled loose and floating down her back.

Vernel and Doris led him backstage and to her lounge area where she was drinking a bottle of water. "Isabella, my dear?" Vernel called, knocking on the frame of the open door.

"Master Vernel," her smile brightened, "I'm glad you could make it tonight." She quickly walked over to greet them. Her hands came up to take his, then his wife's. Doris pulled her down to kiss her cheek. "Now, as exciting as this is, I want you to meet someone. This is Vince, he's going to be buying the old place."

Vince smiled at her, a light brown, short beard on his face framing the soft look. "It's a pleasure to meet you finally Miss McCallen. Mister and Missus Phelps here can't stop talking about you and from what I heard out there, they are understating your talents."

"Please, call me Isabella," she paused, then a playful smile appeared, "Or Red is fine too." She held out her hand to him. "It's a pleasure to meet you Vince, or would you prefer Master Vince?"

He looked into her eyes, and with a twinkle in his, he murmured, "If you feel comfortable..."

"I would like us both to be comfortable," she riposted, just as clever in person as she had been in the emails they exchanged. "If you're not comfortable being called Master Vince, then I will refrain, if you would prefer it then I will do so. It's not rocket science," she winked, "That has more math."

He blinked, then began to laugh. "Oh, she IS a rare one. I love it...," he managed. When he stopped again. "Master Vince will be just fine for now," he smiled at her, lifting her hand and brushing his lips across the back briefly before letting it go.

A faint blush dusted her cheeks, "And a gentleman as well." She sighed as the calls began, "Now, as delightful as this is, I need to go back out there, but if you'd like I'd be happy to converse with you more after I'm finished, Master Vince. Otherwise, Master Vernel has my number and you're welcome to text me."

He thought for a moment, then murmured, "You're going to be off late, I presume. We'll have plenty of opportunities to talk over the next weeks, I'm sure. No rush. I'm staying here in town at a motel until I can find a more permanent arrangement, but I'm not going anywhere." He glanced past her toward the stage. "Go. Your fans await. It was an indescribable pleasure to meet you... Isabella."

She smiled, and turned to walk back out onto the stage, Vernel watched her go, "Oh son, you've got it bad."

He was silent for a moment. "Is it that obvious?" he asked.

"Probably not to her, but us? You look at her the same way I looked at my Doris. I wish you luck in your pursuit." Vernel smiled, "Why don't we wrap up the contract and make this place yours."

The elderly couple transferred the rest of the paperwork and the keys to him and left, getting home early. He stayed until almost close before he left to go back to the motel. Before he left, he wandered around the building, looking at it for a moment. It was old, but still in good shape. He decided it could use some touchups and resolved to buy a couple of cans of outdoor paint in the morning to put some on and see how it looked. With that, he went back to the motel, a big smile on his face as things seemed to be progressing according to the way he had thought them out.

Isabella went back to her home and sprawled out. Something about Vince intrigued her but she wasn't sure what. She pulled up her laptop and decided to write an email.

My Soldier,

I hope this email is finding you well and that you've gotten your feet under you. I knew when you were over there you couldn't respond as much, but now that I know you're in the states I find myself missing you more and more every day. It probably sounds weird but you've become one of my best friends and I've never seen your face.

The lounge has a new owner, fun fact, his first name is Vince too. I offered to call him Master Vince. Unlike the bedrooms I've fussed about in the past he told me only if I was comfortable with it. He's got the prettiest green eyes like pieces of the ocean at sunrise. Heh, but the way he stood and commanded attention made me think of you. I don't know why, except that Master Vernel said he was a soldier. But enough about him.

I would really like to go to Gencon with you. I want to meet you someday and hope that we can. I'm going to get off here, I need sleep.

All my love,

Your Angel,

Isabella.

The email woke him, he read it over and over and worried that his surprise and presence would upset her, but he wanted to make sure her life was taken care of. She had already done so much for him and like she had said, had become his best friend as well. He turned around and replied to her.