No Honor Ch. 01

He stepped closer to her. "I said, strip. Now." His fist clenched. He was going to make sure she did as he said. She flinched when she saw him come closer, and took another step back. She bumped against the wall. She was now trapped between a china cabinet, the refrigerator, and him. She shook her head no.

His glare darkened when she opposed him a second time. "Either you strip yourself, or I strip you. And I can't guarantee your clothes will be in any condition to wear after that." He didn't care, all that mattered was that data.

"Go fuck yourself," she repeated weakly. She didn't want to die, dammit. She couldn't lose the data or... well, Sara didn't know what would happen if she returned without it, but she knew it wouldn't be anything good. It would likely involve heat, needles, and that frightening German doctor that reminded her of a female Mengele.

Mikhail snarled, taking another step closer. "Do you want me to rip that suit off of your body? You comply and this might not involve a cavity search." He hoped that convinced her. He sure as hell didn't want to do that.

Her heart was pounding fast, and suddenly she was all too aware of the little flash drive that rested in the left cup of her bra. An image of this frightening man tearing her clothes from her body flashed into her mind, decided it liked the view, and stayed there. And Sara was even more terrified.

"I'm not letting you have it," she whispered. Had she spoken any louder her voice would have been strangled. Mikhail was getting annoyed. How stubborn was this girl? As a field agent, that was all she had going for her. Stubbornness. Something that could easily get one killed. He grabbed for the zipper of her suit, intentionally missing it.

"One last chance. This doesn't have to be hard."

The tears were coming again. She shut her eyes tight and held onto the zipper, refusing to give in. Maybe they wouldn't hurt her if she gave it her best shot? Doubtful. Mikhail growled at her. He grabbed her arm holding onto her zipper, pinning it against the refrigerator after some struggle. "You made me do this. Do not forget," he said.

He grabbed hold of the zipper and began bringing it down her body. She struggled even as he pulled the zipper down, revealing first a snug black bra that barely restrained her large breasts, and skin that was so fair that it wouldn't survive half an hour in the sun without reddening. She snarled and snapped at him more when he pulled it lower. Her belly was toned, but had a bit of lingering baby fat that even years of training couldn't get rid of. In fact, all of her body was like that. Toned, but very soft feeling.

He was looking her body up and down as he unzipped her suit. He found himself surprised. Her breasts hadn't looked that big under the suit, and her body was toned, likely a result from her training. She was extremely white as well. She'd be right at home in cold Russia. He pulled the zipper down all the way to the point where she only had to slip the suit off of her shoulders. Her struggling had the suit slipping off one shoulder. She barely noticed the chill that hit her, since she was too busy trying to hit him, and failing miserably. She was too panicked to aim or put power behind her punches, not that there was much power in her to begin with. She clearly wasn't trained to be a field agent, despite a few of her skills. She was more like tech support, or the kind of pretty, innocent looking girl the CIA would send out if they wanted information off a lecherous diplomat. Her breasts jiggled with every jerking movement she made. The slight rectangular outline of the flash drive was visible in the silk and foam of her bra.

Mikhail looked her body over, searching for where she could be hiding it. His eyes suddenly came upon the outline of the flash drive in her bra. How clever. He pressed his finger against the outline. "What might this be?" He smirked slightly.

She was silent. He had found it, he had found it and she couldn't protect it and she was going to be killed. "It's nothing at all. A tracking device. Birth control. A thing." She wasn't even bothering to sound convincing now. He rolled his eyes. She knew she'd lost.

He was tempted to take it for himself, but wanted her to do it instead. "Take it out and show me, then." He grinned. Her face flushed red again, and again she refused him.

"No. If you're so damn eager then you can get it yourself," she hissed. He was embarrassed and frightened and dammit, why was he grinning like that?! "Let go. I'm never giving it to you," she said, continuing to struggle.

He shook his head. "Too bad then, American." He reached one hand into her bra, fishing around inside of it till his fingers closed around the flash drive. Wow, her breasts felt good. Soft, full... He quickly shoved these thoughts aside as he pulled out the flash drive. Her face had only blushed a darker red when he started searching around for the little device. No male had been that close to her breasts since... well, years ago.

"No... give that back," she growled, lunging for it and not getting very far, since her still held one arm against the refrigerator. Was she going to die now? He held the flash drive up, keeping her from getting it.

"I think not. It's mine, remember? You stole it." He was beginning to wish he could feel her breasts some more, but quickly eliminated that idea. She was a prisoner, nothing more.

"Finally. I'm going to need this for the trip tomorrow..." he said to himself out loud.

"You aren't going anywhere with that," she snarled, wrenching free of his hold and jumping for the flash drive. Her body was rubbing against his, but she barely noticed. Her only thoughts were to get the flash drive.

"Give it!" it was almost cute, how desperate she looked. The fabric of her bra was rubbing up against his bare chest, as was her soft, toned stomach. But he was just focused on holding the flash drive high up where she couldn't reach it. They must've looked like two siblings fighting over a toy.

"Not a chance. You have no idea what this is and why your superiors must never have it," he said with a dark expression.

"It's Odessa, and they need to have it so they won't hurt me!" she snapped desperately, her eyes welling with tears of frustration again. Mikhail was beginning to lose patience. He glared down at her and used his free hand to shove her, knocking her to the floor.

"That's not all it is. If this fell into the wrong hands, the world would be thrust into World War III!" She fell to the floor with a startled gasp, and quickly pushed herself back to her feet, cradling her bruised elbow with her opposite hand.

"Then let it be thrust. I only care about myself." That was also a lie, but Sara was terrified enough of her employers that she wished it were true. He growled at her, putting the flash drive away in his pocket.

"Well, then you're in luck. It just so happens I need to take this to Odessa tomorrow. I am curious how much your superiors are willing to negotiate for your return," Mikhail said.

Sara wasn't sure how much she was worth to them. It was a small program, and she knew for a fact that quite a bit of cash was spent on training her and others, but people vanished all the time... Mikhail motioned to her. "I hope you dressed warmly. Tomorrow I'm leaving for Odessa, and you're coming with me." No way was he leaving her here.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," she growled, backing toward the front door.

"You've got your information, now let me go!"

Mikhail glared, stepping closer to Sara. "You broke into my house. And you think I am about to let you go? The government will pay me for your release. Plus, I'd like you to be there when I bring the package to my superiors. Then they will know America is our primary enemy."

His superiors?! She didn't want to get anywhere near those people, they would kill her for sure! "They'll berate you for letting a kid defeat your security system. You don't really want to take me with you. I'll cause trouble!" She wanted to run back to camp. At least there everything was sort of familiar. He frowned at her, grabbing her by her arm.

"Listen, you've caused me enough trouble as it is, and there's no way in hell I'm letting you go. You broke into my house once; you could do it again. And how do I know you won't call for backup agents to take me down once you're free? You're my insurance against your superiors." She didn't think he actually wanted an answer, so she kept her mouth shut, glaring up at him hatefully. She wanted to zip up again and go hide somewhere warm.

He was glad her obnoxious mouth wasn't going to spout any more complaints. He released her arm. "Good. Now go back to your room and don't bother me unless it's an emergency." He felt like a babysitter; an unwilling babysitter.

"Bite me, bastard," she hissed. She HATED being talked down to like she was some naughty little girl. She got enough of that at the camp.

He growled, raising a hand and smacking it against her ass almost violently. "I said, go to your room." He'd hit her if he had to. He didn't want her becoming too out of hand.

She yelped and blushed. "You did not just spank me," she said angrily, clenching her fists. "What are you going to do next, take me over your knee?!"

He was standing over her with the most menacing look possible. He'd learned it from his father. "I will if you don't start listening to me. You're the prisoner and I'm the warden. So you either do as I say, or you face the consequences."

She was only marginally cowed by his expression. She'd been given menacing looks for years. It would take more than that to make her back down, especially now that she was freaked out enough to get mouthy. "Is this your fetish or something, pervert?" she asked.

He wasn't enjoying being talked back to like this. He clenched his fist. "No, but it must be yours if you're still arguing with me. If it'd satisfy your sick mind I can do it again." And he did, delivering another blow to her ass.

"Stop that!" she cried, red with embarrassment. "I'm not some child you can just beat into submission!" Yes, she was. One well placed slap and she would be as meek as a mouse and as skittish as a doe.

He smirked slightly down at her. "Want to bet?" he asked. He didn't want to hit her. It was against his morals to hit a female, especially one so young, but she was an agent, trained for the field. Her eyes ran over his body briefly. No. No she really did not want to bet. He was big, and muscular, and even the slightest slap from him would hurt, she knew. But she also didn't want to be a prisoner, and she was sick and tired of following orders...

"Fine, take me over your knee, sick pervert, I've had worse done to me," Sara challenged. Mikhail frowned. He really didn't want to, but this was getting out of hand. She was so damn stubborn and obstinate; he needed to do something. He sat down on the chair, grabbing her by the back of the head and bent her over his knee.

"Hey! Hey, I didn't actually mean it!" She squeaked the second he grabbed her head. She felt the pressure of his leg on her abdomen and squirmed angrily. The last time she had been in this position she had been six, dammit. Mikhail didn't care. She was really getting on his nerves. He wanted to put her in her place. He couldn't get the suit down any lower, so he deemed it best to just do it over her suit. He raised his hand and delivered a hard spank to her ass. He found himself liking the feeling of it. Round, toned but with enough fat to give it that shake. He groped one of her ass cheeks briefly before letting go. She gasped as a flash of pain erupted on her ass cheek. She thought she felt his hand linger, but she couldn't be sure. She clutched at his knee with one hand, wriggling, trying to escape his hold on her. He raised his hand again, spanking her a second time. Her ass was very impressive. He gave it another squeeze this time as well. He was tempted to undo her bra while she was in this position.

"Are you done being a little brat?"

This time she yelped, her entire body stiffening from the force of the blow. "I am not a brat, nor am I little!" she snapped, kicking her legs and trying to make contact with his head. "And stop molesting me!" No one had ever grabbed her like that before. Despite the sting of it, Sara was close to considering this to be erotic.

He rolled his eyes. "Then stop acting like one!" He spanked her again, this time groping her ass cheek and fondling it just to spite her.

"Your ass feels very nice." Mikhail didn't show it often, but he had a perverted side: a result of him being locked away for years in a government facility. She whimpered, but the sound cut off abruptly once she realized she was the source of it. Pleasure was her weakness, since she got so little of it, and his fondling soothed the ache of the spanking enough to feel really good. But this wasn't a time to be thinking about that!

"Fuck off!"

He chuckled. She enjoyed this more than he thought, or more than she wanted to. He reached down, fumbling with the straps of her bra. "Let's see if we can get this off too." This was just to show her he was in charge.

"No!" Touch me more. "Don't you dare undo those clasps!" Give me more pleasure. "I'm warning you!" Don't stop. Her mind was a mess of confusion. Just giving up was a wonderful thought. Give up and get all the pleasure she had missed out on in the five years she had been at that damn camp.

He delivered another hard spank. "You do not tell me what to do. You are the prisoner." It took some struggle, as this was not something he'd done in some time, but he was able to undo the clasps and release them. As he did, his hand was absentmindedly fondling her ass. She whined and squirmed again, and as she squirmed the bra slipped down her arms and dropped to the floor, and her large, creamy, pale breasts swung free.

"Please stop!" she cried, clawing at his leg. There was the confusion in her voice that could only come from a confused, horny, and frustrated virgin. He looked down, unable to see her breasts from this perspective but he tried not to care. This was just to annoy her.

He spanked her ass a fourth time. "Are you done being so bratty?" he asked her.

"Are you done being a pedophile?!" She was just calling him the first things that came to mind now, even if it didn't make sense. Yes, she was young, but she had the full, luscious body of a woman that just begged to be touched. She didn't know how old he was, nor did she know his name. She only knew that he was a genius who was older than she, with gorgeous eyes and soft looking hair.

He rolled his eyes. "Please. No underage girl has breasts that big." He simply stood up, letting her fall off his knee onto the ground. He dangled her bra over her.

"Want this?" He smirked. This was more fun than it was supposed to be.

Humiliated, half naked and upset, Sara only frowned at him and turned away, fumbling with her sleeves and trying to cover herself again. "I'm not begging you for my bra, bastard," she mumbled sullenly.

He smirked, continuing to dangle it. "Well then you're not going to get it. You'll be awfully cold without it," he said. Her attempts to cover up were being hindered by the size of her breasts, and her nipples had already hardened into tight, sensitive little nubs. Why was his house so cold?!

"Please. Give me my bra. Right now," she said, not turning to face him. She crossed her arms over her chest and shuddered as they scraped against her nipples. The only things that she was succeeding in covering were her nipples. The rest of the pale flesh of her breasts was clearly visible.

He chuckled. "Well since you asked so nicely," he said as he tossed it to her callously. "Next time it'll be your panties." He smirked.

"And again I say 'fuck you, bastard'!" she turned away from him and fumbled with her bra until it was on properly, and hastily zipped up her suit. That had been humiliating. And exciting.

He chuckled again. "I suggest you rethink your attitude. I'll be more than willing to do that again if you continue to disrespect me," he said. And just for fun. She seemed to get flushed when he touched her like that.

Her sexual, kinky side, a part of her mind that had long been dormant suddenly woke up. Again? Sara blushed. She shouldn't want that. Even though it had felt really good. "Just stay away from me," she said weakly as she backed towards the stairs.

He smiled. "That will depend on the nature of your behavior." He stretched his arms, going to the kitchen to clean up the dishes.

The kinky side stood up in her mind, begging like a dog. Moremoremore. Touch me more. Give me more good feelings. Sara squashed that side down viciously as her blush deepened. She shouldn't want to be taken over his knee again and embarrassed. She shouldn't want to have been turned over so he could see and fondle her breasts. But she did want that.

Mikhail began cleaning the plates in the kitchen. He'd seen her body language when he was spanking her. She didn't seem to have been fighting it. When she did it was very haphazardly. He knew nothing about this girl. He decided he needed to do some investigating.

Once his back was turned Sara made her way up to the guest room sullenly, shutting and locking the door behind her. She sat down beside the window, and thought. And ten minutes later she decided that there was probably something wrong with her. For five years she had been held in a place where she got very little affection, and even fewer touches that could be considered kind or even pleasurable. So, she thought, perhaps those lacks of touch made her react oddly when she was touched in a sexual way. After another few minutes of thought, Sara came to the conclusion that she was probably sexually frustrated. There weren't any chances to touch herself in a place with so many cameras.

Mikhail was beginning to wish he hadn't taken the security cameras out of the guest room. He'd come to the conclusion that he was just being paranoid, but now he had a reason to have them there. He sighed, putting the dishes away on the shelves. He had to start packing for the trip tomorrow. And now he had additional package with her.

She glanced around the bedroom. She stood up and very thoroughly checked the mattress, under the bed, in the little bathroom, and even under the lampshade. No recording devices that she could detect. Maybe... no. You're a prisoner, she reminded herself. Prisoners don't... do that! She growled in frustration. She could feel the slick lubricate in her panties. Jesus, how long had it been since she had been this turned on? Forever, it seemed. And by a spanking, of all things! A spanking by a very pretty looking man, she was reminded by that part of her deep in her mind. Sara told that part to shut up.

Mikhail walked back up the stairs, stretching his arms as he walked past Sara's room. He did have motion detectors in the hall that would know if she left the room. But for now, she had privacy. Something he doubted she'd had in the CIA. He went back to his bedroom to pack. He shut the door behind him so he could pack. The walls of the house were very thin, so if something happened outside of his room, he could hear it from the inside. That was part of how he found Sara so easily. His room was almost right next to hers, but he wasn't paying attention. He got out his duffle bag and started packing essentials for the road trip.

The more she thought about it. About masturbating in her captor's home and possibly getting caught, the wetter she got. "Dammit, what is wrong with me?" she asked herself quietly. She shifted position and blushed when she caught the musky scent of her own arousal. Dear god, she was so fucked up. She glanced at the door, then at the window. Then she stood up and walked into the little bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind her. She took a deep breath and turned on the shower. As it heated up she stripped out of her suit and underwear almost nervously. When the water was steaming she stepped in the little stall and just let the water wash over her.