My Only Talent Ch. 17

The TMZ segment went out as teaser commercial for tonight's show, and Tessa's video went out about 30 minutes later, just about time for the early afternoon news shows in the EU. I saw Tessa pile into the limo with Little Hollywood and two taller women. Rodney found us and asked if we would like to come to an orgy, and I said I had mid terms this afternoon, so he drove us back to Lara's place where we had left our regular clothes.

When we got to Lara's place Millie crawled into the trapeze and strapped herself in, yelling at me "I defy you Master! I dare you to punish me!" I raised my whip and a pulse shot through her pussy and her Suzie. I moved closer and tightened all her restraints so she was absolutely helpless, and she literally dripped with excitement. I got out a crop, a flail, and a set of nipple clips, laying them out on a table where she could see them all.

"Suzanne, Lara, come here at once! I need help to properly punish Millie!" Mille quivered in anticipation.

Lara and Suzanne arrived almost simultaneously, and stopped and stared at Millie. "She has openly defied me, and I must punish her severely, but I want to make sure I get it right. So I want to try things out on you two first before I work on Millie."

I went behind Suzanne and pinned her arms behind her. "Lara, put a nipple clip on one of her nipples and kiss the other one tenderly for contrast. Millie looked on in frustration, as Lara bent happily and worked on Suzanne. I then grabbed Lara by the hair and directed her mouth to my cock, and took over rolling Suzanne's nipple between thumb and forefinger. Lara kneeled and worked me in and out of her mouth, and still managed to reach a hand over to Suzanne's pussy. None of us had showered yet, and we were still pretty pungent from our dancing exertions.

I could wait no longer. I tied Suzanne up to the trapezes next to Millie, spread her legs, and dove into her sweet pussy. She was wet and wild, and the stimulation from her show at the party had not worn off in the least. I could tell I had even more exquisite sensitivity through her Suzie, and soon my smart bomb tongue was hitting it right out of Orgasm Park, and sweet Suzanne was sneezing and twisting. Lara continued to suck my cock, and Millie watched and shivered, the only motion she could make locked in her restraints. Fully erect, I turned Suzanne slightly and entered her from underneath. Lara moved above her and stuck her long pink tongue into Suzanne's ass. Millie keened in desperate need.

Soon Suzanne was on her third or fourth orgasm, and I took her down, kissed her, and strapped Lara in, right next to Millie. The Millie was forced to watch me take Lara, while Suzanne held Lara's legs apart for me. I felt like a part of Lara now each time I touched her, and I felt her heartbeat and her heat in my bones. My cock felt perfectly at home in her, and I looked haughtily at Millie as she could only watch me surge in and out of Lara. Soon I felt a wave of wetness from her, and her marvelous smell wafted up to me. For me it was sweet perfume, but I Millie's woebegone Suzie screamed need and torture. I would teach her to defy me. Suzanne moved where she could watch me slide in and out of Lara, and kissed her from time to time on the abdomen and thighs. Lara made another groan and magically she was coming again. Suzanne leaned in to taste Lara's sweet juices and Millie groaned even louder. Soon I was ready to come. I winked at Suzanne and she winked back, complicit in my plot to torture Millie even more. I groaned a flexed my legs, signaling that an ejaculation was building, and pulled out of Lara, aiming my shot at Millie's breasts. She leaned her neck out toward me in anticipation, and just as I came, Suzanne swooped in and engulfed me with her mouth, making sure Millie didn't get even see what happened, much less be touched by it. I groaned and pumped into Suzanne's mouth, and I could feel Millie's Suzie lament with each guttural noise I made. Suzanne could not resist rubbing it in. She smiled at Millie and said "Thank you Master! That was a nice big one."

Lara kissed Suzanne, and I kissed them both, and then slapped Millie once strongly on the butt. "I'm going to take quick shower. You two may serve me in the bath. Millie, you just hang out in here for a while." I could hear her screaming Suzie's frustration all the way into the bathroom. After the girls washed me, and I washed them, I just could not resist some ass worship. When I got out getting a towel and drying off, they were starting in on each other again.

My phone beeped and I picked it up. I had received an email from Asa Weltschmerz telling me that they had already stopped the sedative drip and he expected Dwight to wake up soon. Suzanne had to go proctor the exam she had written, so I would take off to cover Dwight while she did that, and then she would cover Dwight this afternoon while I took my last exams. The three of us said a tearful goodbye, since we would not see each other again until after the break. We left Millie literally hanging, although Lara had instructions to release her later.

.....

Dwight the Dweeb Boy woke up, but he kept his eyes closed. It was a trick he learned early in life to convince his grandmother that he was too sick to go to his very boring elementary school. The last thing he remembered was jumping off the rooftop towards Pavel. He tried not to change his facial expression, in case someone was watching, because he wanted to take in all the information he could without moving. He smelled soap, some sort of institutional disinfectant, and floor wax. He listened carefully and heard phones ringing, but very faintly, and at least three different kinds of soft electronic beeping and booping noises. He tried to wriggle his fingers and toes, and it felt like they were moving, and that was a good sign. He tried to move his legs and discovered he could not. That was not good. Then he realized the muscles were moving, but the legs were not -- he was somehow restrained. Same story with his arms, but he could turn his neck from side to side very slightly.

He waited and listened and heard a few voices, both male and female, muffled, as if they were on the other side of a door. They seemed somehow familiar but he could not place them with certainty. He was not ready to open his eyes yet, for several reasons. He wanted to gather all the information he could about where he was now, and try to remember whatever he could, because if he opened his eyes, and someone from the agency was there to debrief him, they would never let up until he had gone over every detail ten times. He decided to give it a few more minutes. His big worry was what happened after he jumped, and how exactly he ended up here in what he presumed was a hospital room. He was wondering what would happen to him and his $100M worth of training. If he had been picked up by the local EMS, and there would be all sorts of photos, medical records, blood draws, x-rays, maybe DNA samples and even fingerprints, and associated police reports. He would be through as a 'no such agent' in the field. He would be doomed to the backroom: become a scenario geek, or a trainer, or homeroom cyber warrior, complete with an actual ID with his real picture and name on it, and commute to work every day from little house somewhere. But he would top out at GS15 and never achieve his goal of a really responsible executive position, and the kind of clearance he needed to satisfy his insatiable curiosity.

Only if he retained his anonymity could that dream continue. He was just about to open his eyes and start asking questions, when he heard a bump and detected air moving, and decided a door was being opened, as a totally unfamiliar voice was speaking as it moved briskly into the room.

"It is beyond strange. We have no idea who he is. We took all sorts of photos and samples, but they all just disappeared, along with his records. Dr. Weltschmerz told us to stop asking questions, and that someone will pick him up once we release him to travel and take him to a military hospital in San Antonio, but that officially he was never here, we never treated him, and he does not exist! He also says if he hears any of us talking about this patient, it will come up as a big minus on our next performance review."

Relief flooded through Dwight's body. The stranger made a few clicking noises near the bed, and some more of the beeping sounds were heard, and then he exited the door and all was silent again. He wondered who the voice had been speaking to. He stayed still and silent, and counted out 5 minutes, then opened his eyes. It was a hospital room. He was in a big bed surrounded by an IV pump, a heart monitor, and some other stuff he did not recognize. There was a nurse call box and speaker, TV remote control, and a landline telephone on a little stand next to the bed. There was a device on the ceiling above his bed that looked like a cross between a small rolling crane and an engine hoist, and his arms and legs were trapped in a big body cast, leaving only his head and neck and his pelvic region free. The region just below his waist was covered with a hospital gown folded up and stuck to the body cast with plastic clips, and several big metal hooks were molded into the cast, and facing up toward the ceiling, and several other directions.

He looked to the left and saw the back of the door, and a little mirror and sink combo, with a toilet attached to the wall. He looked to the right and saw a window. Sitting next to the window, relaxing in a chair, was that ass clown punk, the ESU freshman and so called Master, with a pleasant smile on his face!

"Welcome back, Dwight!" he said enthusiastically.

Dwight was crestfallen. If this freshman loser knew his real name, then all was lost!

"Don't worry, Buddy. Those nice clean cut fellows in Brooks Brothers suits that blocked off the catering trucks called somebody and before the local cops and ambulances got there, a real authentic looking ambulance showed up right pronto, and they strapped you and that Russkie piece of shit Pavel to backboards like when they take a player off the football field on Friday nights, and then took off with a siren goin' and everything. It was pretty early and there weren't that many people around to notice. Ain't it a fine co inky dink that all those guys were just standin' by waitin' for something to happen? Shazam! Then some guys in bunny suits and booties that Suzanne said ya' call 'scrapers' came and took all the evidence that you were ever there away in a big fake Cintas uniform company step van, with all sorts of special equipment hidden inside. So Suzanne knows your real story, and I do, and her father sure does. He gave me a truly amazing and totally serious ass come to Jesus talkin' to on the telephone about national security and what he called 'aggressive compartmentalization', and he told me to tell you that nobody else knows! Said that would sho' nuff be 'portant to ya!"

Well, that answers another question, Dwight thought. Pavel was in for some serious interrogation.

Dwight noted that Robbie had suddenly adopted an exaggerated Texas drawl and spoke much more slowly than usual. Maybe it made people take him lightly, or stop worrying, or something. Anyway, hopefully Pavel was in worse shape than Dwight was, and had a much darker future ahead of him. That would be somewhat satisfying.

"Shucks, Dwight, if you hadn't landed on Pavel's head to break your fall, that sidewalk might a killed ya! Plus he was just about to shoot me with that little .22 pistola of his. But all in all, I'm glad you finally woke up. We've had someone sitting up with you since early this morning. They had you on a sugar drip and some happy juice to keep you sleepin' and make sure your brain didn't swell up against your skull. Although Suzanne's dad did tell me that some of the guys where you work always have swelled heads! We had a good laugh on that one!

Perhaps Ambassador Pliskin really had met the current top management team, after all. He smiled, and when he opened his mouth to speak he realized that his throat was really sore and dry, and his voice was hoarse. "By the way, Robbie, you got away with it once, but don't ever take a .22 lightly again!" He searched for the right Texas metaphor. "If he had put a round in your head, it would have zipped around inside your skull like a BB fired into a bait bucket, and your brain would have been the shredded shrimp!"

Robbie actually looked thoughtful for a minute. "Yeah, you're right about that. I got the same lecture from some red headed guy who said he was your boss, and Ambassador Pliskin, and from Dr. Weltschmerz, all with a much more precise discussion of the dispersion of kinetic energy and much better anatomical detail. But on a happier note, Dwight, it was pretty boring sitting with you, but it was sorta like study hall, so I studied for all my classes! I aced my exam yesterday, and I have to take two more in a little while, and then I'm ready to head out for Thanksgiving break. You did miss some really cool stuff, though."

"Like what?" Dwight asked.

"Well, the Saturday qualifying, the race on Sunday, and the big gala event Sunday night where Sapiento and Erminia announced that they were giving $100M for a neuroscience institute at the new med school, the huge long lines at the airport when most of the race fans left, and ...."

Dwight had to interrupt. "Just how long was I out?"

"The tennis tournament was Friday morning, and this is Tuesday."

"What else did I miss?"

"The after party of all after parties! The mother of all after parties! It was epic. You can catch some video on the TMZ website, if you want. Suzanne's going to come over in a few minutes to watch you while I take my last exams. She said she was going to bring the party over to you. Maybe she's bringing you a piece of cake!"

Dwight had nothing to say to that.

Robbie drawled on: "So after I leave here, I am supposed to forget all about you. Suzanne says she will never forget you for saving my ass from gettin' shot, though, but officially, you were never here!"

That was somewhat comforting, but now Dwight was even more confused. What was going to happen to him next?

Robbie stood up and showed Dwight some printed pictures. "Thought ya'll might want these for your little ol' scrap book, pahdner, but Suzanne says you will probably memorize 'em and then dissolve them in acid or something. There's more to you than meets the eye, ain't there, Dwighto?"

There was a print of the picture Dwight had received from HQ showing Pavel and his team out in the bright sunlight. How the hell did Robbie get that? And another picture of Suzanne, Lara, and Millie posed against a railing in bright sunlight. Did Robbie take those pictures? What was going on with this kid? Actually, even though Dwight had five years in the field, he was still only 25, so he was a kid too, he supposed. Guess there was more to Robbie than meets the eye, too.

"Let me ask ya' one little pregunta, there, buddy. I was hopin' Pavel would get a one way ticket to Guantanamo. Can you tell me straight up what is likely to happen to that Russkie bastard?"

Dwight considered that. Robbie already seemed to know most of the story. There was no risk in answering his question, as long as he did it carefully. "Well, I can't be sure, because that is going to be fully compartmentalized too, but I can give you a pretty good guess. First off, I don't think he will ever see anyplace as comfortable as Gitmo, or meet anyone that will be as nice to him as the USMC!"

Robbie smiled an openly feral smile. That look was a little scary, Dwight thought.

Robbie said "Tell me more, please!"

Dwight didn't get to tell many stories, so he warmed to the task. "My guess is that our Pavel is going to take a long and circuitous international cruise. Only it won't be on a cruise ship with a cabin on the Lido deck near the international casino! It will be a beat up looking freighter, probably Liberian registration with a mostly eastern European crew. Under that scruffy exterior, it will have perfectly maintained propulsion and communications systems, and very good radar and navigation equipment, and the crew will really know how to mind their own business. Pavel's cabin will be very nicely insulated and well down below the water line and he will be attended to by several specialists, probably from Serbia or Bulgaria, with very interesting skill sets. They will be fluent in the languages that Pavel speaks, with some practical training in 'electro-physiology' and 'aqua-massage', and there will be one MD and a paramedic to come in from time to time and check on Pavel. They will have a long list of questions they want answered, and they will be patient and very, very results oriented. They will all sail around together, never reaching port, until all their questions are answered. Then Pavel will go for a swim!"

Robbie smiled again, widely. "You paint a very pretty picture, my friend!"

"Oh, and after you leave here, you are going somewhere for rehab, under some other name, but none of us will know where or your alias." He stood and walked close to Dwight. "Guess we can't shake hands until you get out of that cast, but Asa says you'll be fine after a little while! Thanks again, pahdner, I owe you one, and remember the Alamo!" He walked out the door without looking back.

Dwight was lost in thought for a few minutes. He apparently had lots of broken bones, and was going to have lots of painful scar tissue to break up, but there must be no serious nerve damage. He heard about an agent who fell down an elevator shaft and even with six months of tortuous rehab, he never passed the tests to go out in the field again. Dwight would work his hardest to get back to duty.

Then he heard footsteps approaching in the hallway. Loud, clicking steps, in the unmistakable rhythm of a woman's high heels as she strutted on a linoleum floor. At least that was the image that came to his mind.

The door to his room opened, and Suzanne Pliskin strutted in. "Hi Dwight! Robbie texted me that you were awake, and you certainly have impeccable timing. I just finished proctoring my exam, and Robbie is off to take his last ones, so it's a perfect time for us to have a nice little talk!" She smiled, and then the locked the door behind her. She picked up a little wash basin by the sink, and put a washrag and some warm water in it, and then put a dry towel over her shoulder. It looked good there. Anything would look good there.

"I was in a full leg cast once when I was a little girl. Not as extensive and that one, of course, but it did itch, and it was hard to get to where I felt clean. I'm going to give you a little sponge bath while we talk. It shouldn't bother your sense of modesty, after all, you have been watching me for a while, haven't you, Dwight?

Dwight started to answer, but never got the chance.

"You have seen it all, haven't you Dwight? My dad told me about what you 'OGA' guys do, but I never really thought about it in personal terms or experienced it until lately. Did you like what you saw, Dwight?"

He opened his mouth, but as it turned out, just to draw a breath.

"You seem like a nice guy Dwight. My dad told me a little about your background, and that you should get a little better 'management optics' at your agency after this."

She set the washbasin on the little table by the bed, and began to unclip the hospital gown that was draped over the areas his cast did not cover. She folded the gown almost primly, and began to systematically wash him below his waist. It felt really nice, maybe a little too nice for comfort.

"Dr. Weltschmerz says there is no permanent damage from your little leap from the roof, at least to you, but you will have to work hard at rehab. That was a very brave thing to do, Dwight."