tagMind ControlMy Only Talent Ch. 13

My Only Talent Ch. 13


Chapter 13

Slave Training, Horse Trading, and F1 Entertaining

Note: The descriptions and accounts in these stories are fictional and do not portray any actual people or events.

My mood improved slowly on the way to Lara's place as the girls regaled Rodney Driver with tales of our adventures at the party, and Lara asked him about doing some driving for an unexpected set of new visitors that her dad was entertaining next week during the run up to the Formula One race. He said he has some gigs already but he would hand them off to his cousin Hollywood or another driver and cover Lara himself if he could. He also said he was working on some special deals for transportation to the race from downtown hotels, and he had deals to drive a bunch of politicians around this week from now until the day after the election. He also related his information from what he called the limo driver gossip network about some of the party attendees who were Russian mobster types and that there were lots of FBI and DPS guys in town watching them.

Suzanne suddenly said something like, "Dolbo yeb!" and slapped her own forehead. "That's what they were talking about! There were some very suspicious looking guys speaking street Russian, including that guy 'Pavel' that was coming on to you, Lara. I think you should stay away from him. He is trouble!"

Lara said, "But he was so sweet to me. He called me his 'pretty pizda'!"

Suzanne looked angry. "That's slang for 'cunt' and not in a nice way!"

Lara looked aghast. Rodney took up the conversation again. "Do you speak Russian Suzanne? The other drivers say these Russian guys are stone killers, looking for some kind of score during the race."

She looked worried. "Yes, I speak it fluently. My grandparents grew up in Russia and they taught me when I was an infant, and then I lived there for four years with my parents when my father was posted in Moscow when I was still very young and got total immersion and lots practice. My grandparents also taught me why they were so desperate to get to America!"

"What did you hear the Russians saying, Suzanne?" I was wondering what 'score' they might have in mind.

"Something about an Italian package to keep hidden, and there was plenty of excess testosterone and emotion when Pavel told the other Russian guy to keep his mouth shut!"

We rolled up to Lara's and got out, thanked Rodney, and headed upstairs.


Unnoticed across the street, a windowless van with a cable TV logo on the side pulled into a parking space, and antennas and some telescope looking things swiveled toward Lara's apartment and stayed pointed there. There was a guy in a cable company uniform shirt much like Eddie Estigoy's who was driving, but there were three other guys in suits in the back sitting in comfortable swivel chairs with headphones and lots of video screens and keyboards that settled in for the night.

The oldest looking guy said, "You guys are sure the blonde with the fancy apartment is the one that our 'translator' came on to?"

"Yes, boss", said the most junior agent. "He's got good taste in women, at least. I wonder if she is stupid enough to let him fool with her. I'm using facial recognition to try to ID her by crossing the name with the leases in the building."

"Run all the others that rode with her to the party, too, assuming they are ESU students, let's see who our DPS friends are following and why!" All three agents then studied their computer screens and typed frantically.


When we got up to the apartment, I gave Lara a little kiss and said, "Did you once tell me that you had a massage table in the closet?"

She smiled. "Yes, my father sent it to me when I told him I was signing up for one of the ESU informal classes for massage, but the schedule conflicted with the only section offered of the language lab I needed, so I couldn't take the massage class."

"Would you and Mille please get it out and set it up? I might want to give some special massages this afternoon." Her Suzie spiked and she went looking for Millie. I told Suzanne I needed to make a quick phone call, and ducked into the kitchen, and dialed on my mobile.

"Mom? Yes it's me. Yes I still live and breathe. I need to ask you about bringing a guest for Thanksgiving."

"No, it's not my roommate; she's a friend of a friend. Yes, she. No, I'm not sleeping with her, but I am dating her friend. Yes, she knows all about my relationship with her friend."

"Well, sometimes she does and sometimes she doesn't, so it's complicated. I want to talk to Dad about it, too. When does he get back?"

"Uh-huh. OK. Well we expect to ride with Alley Shitty... What? OK, OK. Anyway we expect to leave Wednesday about noon so should be there by 6 at the latest even if Alley drives. OK. Love you, and tell Dad we need to have a long talk with just the three of us when I am there. What? Oh, I think we will go back Sunday about noon. OK. Love you too!"


In the van outside of Lara's apartment, the young agent who had intercepted the call pulled up the caller ID data and address for the landline phone on the other end of the call and quickly had an ID on the 'Master' who was in fact an ESU freshman. "Fuck me!" the now whining agent exclaimed. "That guy is a freaking first semester freshman in engineering. I never even saw girls that hot until I was a senior!'

His boss chortled. "There weren't any girls that hot at MIT, Dweeb Boy, and when you were a freshman you were only 15, so even if there had been they wouldn't have been caught dead with you!" The other agents roared. Dweeb Boy kicked off a software spider that would monitor Robbie's phone, crawl the agency database for any other recorded conversations, and build a table of all his other calls and texts try to connect them to names and addresses. He watched the network node icons fill up the screen, and other bots began to crawl all the other phones he had touched, and waited patiently for Bayesian inference to work. In the meantime, he wished he had video and thermal from upstairs, not just audio.


My mother had chastised me on the phone for using such a derogatory nickname for the daughter of one of our neighbors that I went to high school with. The daughter looked like Ally Sheedy, the actress, but she was such a controlling bitch that all the kids called her Alley Shitty. She naturally had a crush on me all through high school, but I couldn't stand her. She was very nice looking, and smart as hell, but she was also a pushy mega-bitch that always wanted things her way and had to have the last word on everything. But she did have her dad's old SUV, and her mother made her promise to give me a ride up and back for both Thanksgiving and Christmas break. I had already emailed her and she said she had plenty of room in the Suburban so bringing a guest would be no problem. Like my mom, she seemed to assume that I was bringing my roommate, and I did not make any effort to disabuse her of that notion.

By this time Lara and Millie had the massage table set up, and it was the kind that unfolded and rolled in like a hospital bed, and then sat on locking casters. It had multiple height adjustments and replaceable pads that could be set up for a chin rest, back angle blocks, and stuff I had never even seen before. Top of the line all the way, including a thermostatic heater, and it was easily the finest table I had ever seen. I set the thermostat to 38, put a big cotton towel on it, and gave it a few minutes to warm up. My plan was to start with Suzanne, who did not yet fully realize the extent of my massage skills since I had only given her a brief and limited one on her couch. I had Suzanne get up on the table on her tummy and covered her with another towel, and told her to just relax for a few minutes.

Once I got Suzanne fully relaxed with a traditional therapeutic massage I was going to give her the full Suzie signal treatment, too, using my talent to sense every nuance of her response to my touch, and try to give her intense and plentiful orgasms in the shortest possible time, to make sure when we had our little talk about wants and needs later tonight that she kept things in proper perspective. While doing that, I was going to let Millie warm-up Lara, treating her very roughly and taking her right to the razor's edge of too much kink and pain and getting her frantic, before I would come in and try to give her as many orgasms as I had Suzanne, to give her something very memorable to think about the next time some Russian asshole tried to flirt with her, but still leave her wanting more when I left to take Suzanne home.

Millie and I began strapping Lara to the trapeze in the bedroom, with Suzanne out of sight but within earshot in the entry hall, relaxing on the massage table, but hardly patiently. Millie went to work on Lara, and I went in to start on Suzanne.


Outside in the van, all the little software bots began to stitch the big picture together, and ID's and collateral data began to pop into green windows on the screen. The youngest agent whistled loudly. "Oh, fuck, boss, our lives just got a lot more complicated!"

The older agent looked irritated. "For a kid with a supposed genius level IQ, you certainly have a narrow and predictable vocabulary. Expand and expound, please, Dweebo."

"The blonde is the daughter of an insurance billionaire from Dallas who does hundreds of millions in business with most of the F1 sponsors, but that's not the half of it. The hot looking dark haired girl in the red leather outfit is on our facial recognition watch list! She's Ambassador Pliskin's daughter!"

"Holy Fuck!" exclaimed the much more senior agent Jones, all evaluation of vocabularies now forgotten. How far up the line did he have to take this to save his own ass? He was all for showing initiative, but if anything happened to that girl the shit would fly from all directions and most if it would land on him. He told the other guys to keep digging, while he began to review his options.


I had given Millie very specific instructions on how to work Lara up into a frenzy, which should take about 90 minutes before I needed to be there, which also defined my window of opportunity with Suzanne. She was now surprisingly relaxed and comfortable, in a way that only a woman on a well heated massage table can be. I listened briefly to her Suzie signal, and she was hoping for some rapid escalation and hard fucking sooner rather than later, so I was going to give her total relaxation, followed by slow ramping excitement until she literally begged me to fuck her. I knew I could not refuse a lady.

I shut down my Suzie receiver, and just concentrated on pure massage technique, and feeling Suzanne's incredible musculature. I was fortunate to have such a delightful subject, and everyone who learned massage should get to work on someone in that kind of shape at least once just to understand how the body should and could respond. She was tight, she was pumped, but she also had circulatory responses most other people could only dream about, and I felt her body instantly respond as I worked on her. As I started at her feet and worked her muscles with almost as much force as I could use, she relaxed even further and just let my hands carry her away on a flood of pleasure, opening capillaries, and endorphins slipping into her bloodstream from released tension. Her breathing became steady and strong, and her features relaxed and she appeared very calm. I then tuned into her Suzie, and began a lighter and slightly teasing touch that was as much a caress as a massage.

I had such a connection to her that I could sense her responses through her Suzie signals at the same time she herself recognized what was stimulating her, and I took full advantage of that. Her thighs were sensitized now, and she was very conscious of my alternating light and strong touch. I found a particular grip across the top of her thighs that seemed to speak directly to her pussy, and shared her astonishment at how wet she was becoming and how quickly my touch increased her flow. She was surprised at the pungent smell she was producing, but I was delighted. I sent her a Suzie blast that combined acceptance, trust, admiration, and just about everything I could send her short of just screaming out "I love you" which might produce unknown and undesirable consequences. She smiled, then looked a little worried, but did not open her eyes. I increased the strength of my motions on her thighs, using enough force to begin to slightly displace her nether lips and stimulate them. My hands were still 8 inches away from them, but my intentions were clear, and she liked my plan. Doing my best to tantalize her, I would move my hands up her thighs getting closer and closer to direct contact with her outer lips, manipulate her muscles to make them move a little more, then move back down to just above her knee and start the whole process again.

I could read her Suzie increasing in anticipation as my fingers moved north, and she began to tighten up her thigh muscles to try to stimulate herself before my hands could get there. Every time she did it, I reduced the forcefulness of my massage to frustrate her. My only challenge was that the pheromones that her preternaturally perfect pussy was releasing into the air were acting directly on my lizard brain, clouding my judgment. But I had to get some information out of her before I went literally went completely fucking crazy on her. I forced my still functioning speech centers to begin the interrogation, starting my questions when my hands were at the bottom of her thighs, and kept moving up as long as I was getting answers. When she hesitated to answer, my upward progress would stop.

"So, Suzanne, everybody at the party seemed to already know at lot more about Erminia and Sapiento Gallo than I did, huh?"

She laughed, saying, "Well, you are not exactly a euro-centric business man, auto racing nut, or soccer aficionado. They might not have known who Paul Allen is, or Stephen Ross, or Alex Spanos, or James Irsay, or Stan Kroenke, for example, but you do, don't you?"

"Billionaires who also own NFL teams?" I asked.

"Right the first time, my animal! Sapiento probably tops the European billionaire list, although he hates publicity, and he owns two premiere European football clubs, a top rated Formula One team, and a basketball team. Those are just his hobbies, as he also owns several global shipping lines and industrial companies, and such significant stakes in most publicly traded companies worldwide that hedge fund managers often have to go through him to plan hostile takeovers. When he married the much younger Erminia, the beautiful widow of a famous fiery footballer and champion coach who died prematurely of a heart attack a few years ago, it was all over the popular press in Europe. It was almost as big a deal as when Jackie Kennedy married Aristotle Onassis. Spear Overtop scored a major coup when he got them to that party, and I am sure they found it refreshing that you didn't obsequiously suck up to them like most people do."

I considered this for a moment. My father had taught me very few absolutes, but never sucking up to anybody was one of them. It was a combination of his egalitarian American values and his salesman's equivalent of the old military saying that he verbalized as, 'Those who know don't actually say anything, and those that say something don't actually know anything.' His idea was that if you want to sell something to someone important, don't suck up to them because if they do respond to it then they probably aren't all that important. Real decision makers appreciate direct and honest communications, not bullshit. If they are the decision makers and you can sell them with bullshit, they will soon be replaced by better decision makers anyway. "That explains a few things. So Brujo Lagoria manages Sapiento's money?"

"Yep, he is his most trusted advisor, and most of the business executives, money managers, and entrepreneurs in Europe would cut off a finger to get to talk to either of them one on one for five minutes, much less play a sex game with their wives and then sit with all four of them at lunch for an hour like we did. I will have a story to tell at the dinner table during Christmas break that will impress even my father! And most of the younger crowd that spoke romance languages was either part of Sapiento's entourage or trying desperately to meet him. The two young couples that I managed to enslave in the game all worked for Sapiento; for his holding company, his shipping line, or his F1 team. The fact that they got invited here this many days before the first American F1 race in years means that Sapiento and Brujo consider them very promising executives, indeed.

That gave me an opening. "So will you tell your father what they whispered in your ear?" When she hesitated, I slowed my progress up her leg, and she stretched toward me a little, urging me on. I waited her out.

"Well", she smiled like a Cheshire cat, her eyes still closed, "They propositioned me, inviting me to spend the rest of the week in bed with all four of them, or any combination of them that caught my fancy!" She opened her eyes and gave me a smoking hot look that made me blush. "And naive little Suzanne, perhaps foolishly, told them that they would have to talk to you about it, in the spirit of risk and return and sexual honesty, and all that jazz. That's why they looked at you like you were from Mars, because they just couldn't believe my response."

I sent her another adoring Suzie blast, and continued my progress up toward the top of her thighs. "Well it certainly sounds titillating, but maybe not the best idea from a risk standpoint. I would rather keep working on Nora. By the way, I am going to invite her to Thanksgiving as soon as I see her. On another subject, I did not like the look of the Russian guy that came after Lara."

She snorted. "Oh I liked the way he looked just fine, but I wouldn't want to turn my back on him for a femtosecond. I don't trust him and neither should Lara or anyone else. He's got those 'dead eyes' that make me shiver, and his Russian dialect was pure Siberian gutter snipe, even though his English was very polished. That makes me doubly nervous about his background and training." She paused and drew in a deep breath. "Are you ever going to actually touch my pussy?"


Out in the van, Dweeb Boy was frantic to try to improve his reception from the microphones they had placed in the apartment and the lasers they were bouncing off the windows. Unfortunately, wherever Robbie and Ms. Pliskin were was nowhere close to their good microphone locations, and he was only getting about every tenth word of their conversation. He caught reference to 'Sapiento' and his working botset quickly made that connection, and he tried changing the phasing and diversity mix relationships between his sources just as he heard Ms. Pliskin say, "Are you ever going to actually touch my pussy?" The other agents looked askance at him when he spit out his coffee and sputtered and coughed. Then he tried to look serious again and concentrate.


"Maybe", I said pointedly. "What exactly did you mean by stretching the rules a bit with regard to those two couples?

She laughed again. "They begged and begged and when they all got a several questions right and we won a challenge because of it, staving off me losing them as slaves, I gave them a little reward. I unzipped my nipple covers and let them suck on my nipples for a while. I suppose that really was inside the boundaries of the soft swing rules, wasn't it?" I said nothing, then she continued, "But I was a good girl and left both of the bottom zippers closed when they kissed my leather pants, even through those two women were about ready to chew through the leather to get to my pussy! I think that talented Tammy could have made me come in a few more seconds, even through the leather. That was pretty hot, and it's why I was so horny when I saw you on the way to brunch!"

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