Miss Masters Ch. 03: The Assassin

Author's Note: If you hate spoilers of any kind please skip this note.

This chapter contains homosexual themes, pegging, noncon/reluctance, female domination; if any of these a turn-off for you, probably best to skip this story.

This chapter was an interesting one to write, it kept wanting to go off its own way. Thanks everyone for reading, and as always, any feedback is welcome.

Miss Masters, Ch.3: The Assassin

Once again, Miss Masters was sat in the back seat of the black sedan, being chauffeured by Special Agent Dutch Taylor. But this time the passenger seat was empty, and the young agent was delivering the sexy gangster to a destination of her choosing.

The remarkable lady was trying to puzzle out the previous day's events, but no matter how she arranged the pieces, they just wouldn't come together for her. The police weren't behaving as they should, and neither was the Bureau. She was always careful not to leave loose ends, so why had they suddenly decided to arrest her - none of it made sense.

When they arrived back in the city, she had Taylor drive her down to the waterfront. If there was any talk in the city about what was going on, then her man at the docks would have heard it. She pointed out a decaying building at the end of a one-way street and instructed Dutch to pull up at the front.

There were two huge men at the door, who bristled noticeably at the car's arrival. Both men moved forward, intending to tell the driver of the car that he'd better leave now while he had the chance. Then Miss Masters stepped out.

Both hoodlums, instantly recognised their employer's boss, they glanced worriedly at each other, before rushing to open the door for her.

Miss Masters looked left and right at the two men. "Which one of you is the brains?"

There was a moment of glancing back and forth, then a little head-scratching before the taller one raised his hand, whilst the other one sheepishly pointed at his partner in agreement.

She looked at the nominated genius. "Fine, then I'm dealing with you. Is Donnie here?" She asked, in no mood for dealing with these two.

"Y- Yeah, Mr. Kirkland is inside." Answered the taller brute.

She glanced back at Dutch in the car and then back to the two gorillas. "Take my friend inside and sit with him. Don't let him wander off. I'll send Mr. Kirkland down with further instructions soon. Understand?"

"Don't let him wander off." Said the shorter man, trying to show, that even if he wasn't the smart one, he had also been listening.

Without a further word, she simply walked straight past them as if they didn't matter - which of course, they didn't.

Miss Masters and her lieutenants talked for hours, but nobody had any useful information about her arrest. Then the news broke about the ruthless murder of Senior Special Agent Jack Blake by the nefarious gangster known as 'The Lady'. It was all over town, and the fact that it wasn't true didn't seem to stop the story spreading.

Realising that by morning she'd be on the front page of every newspaper in the city, Miss Masters decided to make for her own private bolthole and lay low. She gave her instructions to Kirkland, telling him to keep Dutch nice and safe, since he could testify that Blake was still alive when she left.

Aware now that she would soon be the focus of a state-wide manhunt, Miss Masters was keen to get off the streets. She sent for her own private car and when it arrived, she got in and tapped her personal aide on the shoulder. Without a word, he drove off, careful as always, not to give his mistress an uncomfortable ride.

The sexy gangster nestled her head into the sumptuous leather seat and closed her eyes, it was a short enough drive but any rest she could get was welcome.

As the white car headed towards its destination, unseen by anyone, a car started its engine and began to follow them. The mysterious car drove with its headlights off, shadowing Miss Masters along the dark rain-soaked streets.

* * *

The lady's car drove through the large wrought-iron gate and then up the pristine white gravel driveway that led to her private mansion. The grounds were bounded on all four sides by a twelve-foot-high wall. Once the car pulled up, her aide got out and opened her door.

"Thank you, Ramon." She said, taking hold of his huge hand and stepping out of the car.

Ramon was a tall, swarthy Hispanic man, who towered over his mistress. He rushed to the entrance before Miss Masters and opened the door of the large house. She walked into the hallway, her heels striking loudly against the black and white tiled floor.

In the middle of a white marble hallway, standing with their feet apart and their hands clasped behind their back, were two large men. Both were only wearing tiny, black lace-up briefs which looked much too small for them. The skin-tight undergarments left nothing to the imagination.

The first man, upon seeing his mistress, moved forward to take her coat. He was handsome, blond, tall, and athletic, with long lean muscles.

"Thank you, Erik." She said shrugging the garment from her shoulders for him to take.

The second man, Carlos, stood patiently waiting. He was shorter than his associate, but much more powerful, his body was swollen with round, defined muscles and his olive skin was covered with small dark hairs. He was older than Erik, his dark hair was highlighted by streaks of grey at both his temples.

Ramon closed the door behind him and instantly began to shed his chauffeur's attire. Once indoors, like all of Miss Masters household staff, he had to get himself into uniform. It wasn't long until just like his colleagues, the huge man was standing barefoot on the tiled floor wearing only the skimpiest of black briefs.

"You look tired Mistress, shall I run you a bath?" asked Ramon.

"No, I think I'll have a shower tonight."

"Very good. There are fresh towels and a robe in your room."

"Thank you, Ramon."

"And shall you be requiring anything else." Asked her large personal aide and driver. All three men stood motionless, trying to contain their hopeful anticipation.

"Not tonight boys, I'm a little tired."

"As you say Mistress." Said Ramon. His deep voice, barely concealing his disappointment.

"But you know me, I my change my mind later." She said, playfully blowing them a kiss and winking.

She made her way up the long-curved staircase to the upper floor and then proceeded into the east wing of the house towards her master bedroom. She threw the large doors open and went inside. It was a large, lushly appointed room, with its own connected bathroom, French windows that led to a balcony, and an enormous steel framed bed.

Miss Masters undressed carelessly, leaving her clothes in the bedroom floor - knowing that her housemen would collect her discarded garments while she showered. She'd been wearing her suit for two days and she couldn't wait to choose something fresh. Walking naked, the sexy gangster made her way into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the room filled with steam, she smiled, remembering the night before.

She stepped under the powerful jets and let the hot water pour over her. It had been a difficult few days, and for a time she did nothing but stand with her hands against the tiled wall as the water pummelled her skin and invigorated her limbs. She lowered her head, letting the water hit the back of her neck and then run down her spine. Enjoying the sensation of the hot water running between the cheeks of her ass and then down the inside of her thighs.

Eventually, she reached for some creamy coconut scented soap and began working it carefully and slowly over her soft supple skin. She worked the bar over her ample breasts, circling the soap over her proud nipples, before sliding the bar down and washing lazily between her legs, enjoying the sensation of the slippery bar as it slid over her mound and then through her lips. The hot water continued to pour down as Miss Masters sensually massaged her pussy with the soap, stopping just short of playing with herself.

Finally, she rinsed the sweet-smelling coconut lather from her body, letting the powerful stream of water reveal her deliciously tanned skin. Finally, reluctantly, she turned off the shower.

Miss Masters stepped out and slid her lithesome frame inside a white, luxuriant robe and then tied the oversized belt around her slender waist. She picked up a towel and began to gently dry her hair. She was about to walk back into her bedroom when out of the corner of her left eye she caught sight of the white curtains billowing in the wind.

"I don't remember opening the French windows." She thought.

Assuming the worst, she reminded herself that there was a gun in her bedside dresser. But she was going to have to cross the whole room to reach it.

"Come out from behind the door Miss Masters." Said a deep, growling voice.

She was reluctant to leave the protection of the door, but she was also aware that one inch of wood would not stop a bullet. With a perfectly performed air of confidence she strode into the bedroom.

"That's far enough!" Said the owner of the growl.

Slowly, trying not to provoke the threatening voice with any sudden moves she turned and looked at him. A long-barrelled pistol was pointed precisely at the sexy gangster's head. He was standing fifteen feet away, too far to rush him, and too close for him to miss.

He was a giant of a man, well over six and a half feet tall and wider than a door. He was wearing a long brown overcoat that went all the way to the floor, he looked like death.

"Bruno De Luca." She thought. Her skin flushed cold.

Arguably, he was the most-feared professional killer in organised crime. He was a sort of bogeyman, people talked about him in hushed tones, almost like he wasn't human. Masters dismissed the fanciful rumours; what she knew to be true was terrifying enough. He was a ruthless sadist, who enjoyed killing people and unfortunately, he was also exceptionally good at it.

"You should get a real lock on those windows." He said, his voice mocking.

"Why is he talking? He could just kill me where I stand." She asked herself.

"I'll inform my house staff." Said Masters, continuing to feign confidence.

The giant snorted with laughter, knowing that soon she wouldn't be informing anyone of anything.

"How much are they paying you to kill me?"

"A hundred grand."

"I should be flattered." She said raising an eyebrow.

"Don't be. The price reflects my talent - not your worth." Said the enormous killer. "But I would have taken this contract for nothing."

"It's personal then!" She thought, frantically trying to add it all up.

"I wondered why I was still alive. Why don't you tell me why you feel the need to gloat before you shoot?"

"Do you remember being in New York about three months ago?"

Miss Masters nodded, her mind desperately trying to remember every detail of the visit. "As I recall, apart from someone else trying to kill me, that was a fairly uneventful trip." She said, appearing completely at ease.

Bruno's frame shook with anger, the gun barrel quivered with rage. "So, you do remember."

"Remember what?"

"Killing my little Emilio!" He said his teeth bared.

Miss Masters mind raced quickly adding up all the details, now that the giant had revealed his motive, he would be seconds from pulling the trigger. She needed a strategy, a plan, anything.

"Well, he did try to kill me." She said, deciding to try a desperate gamble. "But I don't think I would describe your Emilio as little, as I recall he was rather a big boy." She said, suggestively stroking her bottom lip as if recalling a pleasant memory.

Bruno flinched with annoyance at the obvious suggestion.

"Besides, I didn't kill him, I just made him an offer he couldn't resist."

"Never!" he said, his voice flaring with anger. "Emilio would never betray me!"

"Oh Mr. De Luca, I can be very persuasive."

"Nice and easy, don't push him too far." She thought.

The enormous hitman lowered the barrel of his pistol and looked directly into her eyes. "I know all about your supposed talents. But Emilio was like me, we don't like women. It's because we're immune to your charms that we were chosen for this job."

"That's right, past-tense - Emilio was just like you." She said shaking her head, as if correcting a child. "Pleasure isn't interested in labels." Masters took her first half-step towards the gunman.

"My sexual taste is not a label, I like men, women do nothing for me - and they did nothing for Emilio." Barked the huge hitman.

"Well, I did something for him." She said placing her hands on her hips, accentuating her figure.

"Is that right?" Said Bruno, amazed by the arrogance of this woman.

"Mmm-hmm" She said nodding. "In fact, we still enjoy one another's company from time to time. I can understand why you miss him, he's a wonderful lover, he's so very blessed."

"Shut up!"

"Why don't I call New York, he could fly in, maybe the three of us could have some fun together?" said Miss Masters her voice, sounded so steady and reasonable.

"I still don't believe that my Emilio would- " He couldn't say the word. "-with a woman. And I don't believe he's still alive" His voice dripped with contempt.

"Believe what you like. But that first night, I took Emilio to heights of pleasure he didn't know existed. If you'll let me, I'll do the same for you."

"I'm not some naive bureau agent you can toy with Miss Masters." He said, raising his gun again, aiming it with measured precision. "I'm a professional."

"Yes, you are. You don't even need that gun; you could kill me with your bare hands. What would you have to lose, if I'm not as good as I claim, then there's no way I could stop you from killing me afterwards? Is there?" Asked the sultry gangster, flattering the sadist's ego.

"Just two more steps, to get close enough." She thought.

"Besides, Emilio told me you're packing a much bigger gun than that pistol in your hand."

Almost involuntarily, the corners of Bruno's lips twisted into a boastful grin.

"Why is it, gay or straight, no man can resist flattery about his size?" She thought. "Just one more step."

"Why don't I show you exactly what Emilio betrayed you for." She said, as she seductively untied the belt of her robe.

Miss Masters enticingly peeled back the soft white fabric of her robe, and with a shrug, allowed the robe to tumble to the floor. Revealing her exquisite nakedness to the ruthless killer's gaze. With sensual fluidity, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, accentuating her lithe curves as she did. Winking playfully at him, she stood confidently and boldly before the dangerous hitman.

Even to Bruno, who was dis-interested, almost disdainful of women, Miss Masters exuded a raw erotic promise. His eyes wandered briefly from the tip of his pistol, following the fluid flowing lines of her perfect body.

At precisely that moment, Masters gave the tiniest nod. Behind the hitman, Ramon, the gangster's powerful personal aide, thumped the assassin hard over the head with a cudgel. A shot rang out from Bruno's pistol, but his aim had wandered in his distraction and the shot missed, breaking a window. The enormous hitman spun round enraged, intending to crush his attacker, only for another crashing blow to strike him hard on the temple. The big man's world turned red, and he crumpled down on the floor next to the naked gangster's discarded robe.

Miss Masters sighed with relief and looked at Ramon. "I'm glad you came in; I really don't know if he was going to go for it."

"I'm just glad he went down after the second hit." Said the powerful Ramon. "Never had to club someone twice before, just to knock them out. What do you want me to do with him?"

Miss Masters grinned wickedly.

* * *

When Bruno awoke, the first thing he noticed was that he had been stripped down to his briefs; and was lying spread-eagled, almost naked on the huge bed. The second thing he noticed was that each one of his ankles and wrists were tied to a bedpost at each corner using long silk scarves. On his left, his clothes were neatly folded and piled beside the bed, his large pistol placed tantalisingly on top - he was only a few feet from reaching his gun. He turned his head and looked across the room, there was Miss Masters sitting at her dressing table. She was sitting legs crossed, wearing black stockings and lingerie, looking into the mirror whilst rolling a red lipstick over her full lips.

"Ah, you're awake." She said without turning around.

"What the hell's going on?" he asked, before pulling powerfully on all the scarves at once.

The bed creaked under the immense pressure applied by the assassin; his muscles tightened into harsh definition as he applied his full strength against his bonds. His face flushed red, veins throbbed and beads of sweat formed on his brow as he strained against his restraints, but the bed held firm and the silken straps refused to yield.

"Mmm, very impressive." Said Masters, now standing at the foot of the bed, seemingly looking on in admiration at the muscular man.

"My servants wanted me to use these." She said, holding up some handcuffs. "But I thought the silk would be much more comfortable."

The enormous hitman tried again, pulling hard, his hold body suspended above the bed. But the scarves, and the bed refused to yield to his unbelievable strength. Finally, reluctantly, Bruno De Luca relaxed. He glared up in fury at his lithe captor. She was smirking at his failed attempts to break free.

"Why haven't you killed me?" He asked, almost spitting the words at her. His mind unable to accept that such a slight and slender woman had caught him.

"Because I need information. I want you to tell me who hired you."

The bound assassin laughed out loud. "I've been tortured by professionals and said nothing - you think a weak woman like you, can do anything to me?"

"A sadist and a chauvinist, I'll cure him of those little problems." Thought the sexy gangster.

"Torture, is ineffective." She said, walking around the foot of the bed. "It often gives unreliable results; besides, I need the information sooner rather than later and a big powerful man like you, would take a lot of time to break."

"Well, what are you going to do then?" Asked the prone assassin.

With a smile, Masters reached into the top of her stocking and produced a small glittering blade.

"Well first, I'm going to cut something off." She said leaning over the bed, her hand reaching for his crotch.

Gripped by a sudden terror he twisted and squirmed, trying to avoid her reaching hand, but it was useless. In an instant the lingerie-clad mobster had a firm grasp of his briefs. She blew a kiss at him before flashing out with the knife. Bruno closed his eyes preparing for the agony. But it never came. instead, he heard splitting fabric as the blade cut away his underwear, leaving him completely naked and exposed.

"Now isn't that more, comfortable." She said sliding the knife back into her stockings, and then carelessly tossing the slashed underwear onto the bedside table.

Bruno looked up at the gangster, standing over him in her revealing underwear and stockings, and suddenly realised her intentions.

"You don't actually think you can seduce me?" He said, his voice incredulous.

Miss Masters ran her red-painted nails over the hitman's tight stomach muscles.

"Well, I don't know Bruno, but before I try, I'd like to find out if Emilio was right." She said, languidly stroking her fingers through the bush of black curly hair above Bruno's cock.

"Right about what?" He said, squirming on the bed.