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He stood her up. "You're not going to try to hit me again if I let your wrists go, right?" She shook her head no. "Good." He uncinched the cord and took it off her wrists. She brought her arms to her chest and covered herself with her bra while rubbing her wrists.

Walker smiled. "I'll be having that," he said, gesturing at her bra. Reluctantly, she let go, and was standing before him now, totally nude except for her shoes.

As Walker took a step toward her, Camilla had to bend her head back slightly to keep eye contact. He started again, leaning in, almost whispering in her ear, "So you came to the party, flirted a bit to see if you could overhear the ambassador, you struck out, and you left, is that right?" "Yes," she replied. She shivered a little. "Then what were you doing in the ambassador's office?" He whispered, playfully this time. "Fuck," she thought. Maybe it was the drug. Maybe it had been being stripped nude. Maybe it had been the spanking, or having his hand inside her. Camilla had forgotten that one of the first things he'd told her was that he'd seen her leaving the ambassador's office. "No, well, I.." He cut her off. "What did I say about lying to me?" He slapped one of her breasts, but not hard. "That you don't like it," she said quickly. She wasn't ready to be up over his knee again. "That I don't like it, exactly. And yet you're still lying to me." "No," she said, "I.. I forgot. Being here, like this, It's got me confused."

"Then let's see what we can do to clear your head and help you remember." He started looking around the room. "Stay right there." She started looking around too - trying to understand what he was looking for. His eyes stopped and he focused on... a handheld mixer? He went and got it, as well as another kitchen towel. "Under different circumstances, I'd find sugar and egg whites and make us a meringue," he said. He walked past her and plugged it into the wall, wrapped it tightly in the towel and turned it on. The mixer hummed dutifully, and Camilla took her shot. She bolted toward the door and grabbed his jacket off of the table--it would have to do. She heard the mixer clang as it was dropped on the counter and footsteps bounding behind her. She grabbed the door handle and started to pull when he caught her, wrapping his arms around her torso under her breasts in a bear hug, pinning her arms to her side. He lifted her off the ground and she kicked with her feet. "Let go of the door!" he barked at her, slightly out of breath. Camilla yelled in frustration. She tried to hold tight, but he squeezed tighter, lifted higher, and she lost her grip.

They almost fell to the floor, but Walker regained his balance. Still holding her up, as she struggled wildly, he brought her back to the table where she'd grabbed the jacket and pinned her waist against it. He let go of her torso and forced her down onto it, a powerful hand pressing flatly between her shoulder blades. Her feet were on the floor again and he kicked them apart so that she couldn't get any leverage. With his free hand he got one arm into the cord tie, then eventually the other, and he pulled it taut again. Camilla was strong, but he was simply stronger. He held her wrists to her back and stepped to the side so that his weight was no longer up against her and the table.

They were both still for several seconds, catching their breath. Camilla stifled a whimper, frustrated by the failed attempt at escape. "We're going to finish what we started," he said, and he grabbed her by the hair and wrists and pulled her up, roughly. Walker marched her back over to the counter and the mixer, holding her hair tightly. He leaned back against the counter, and pulled her weight back onto him, his left arm now reaching around her and grabbing her right breast. His right hand let go of her hair and grabbed the mixer. He brought it between her legs and pressed the body of the motor up against her, and turned it on.

She felt the vibrations immediately, and let out a little gasp. She tried to move her arms, but they were stuck between her body and his. Her hands were pressed up his crotch, and she felt his cock again. "This is the first setting," he said, "In a moment, I'm going to turn it all the way up, and we're going to see if your memory improves. You're not going to say a word until I tell you, or your panties are going back in your mouth. You aren't getting a free pass on that little stunt you just pulled, and I need a minute to think while your attitude improves. Is that clear?" She nodded. She didn't know what else to do. He clicked the mixer to its highest setting, and it hummed loudly through the cloth against her pussy. She tried to think of other things: baseball (too boring), the mission (couldn't focus on any details), the ambassador (that bought her some time). Camilla's breathing became faster and shallower as the mixer purred along. It felt a bit like the Stim-U-Lax one of the typists at Berlin had told her about. She'd smiled and nodded, and then ordered one by telephone as soon as she was home, an operation that felt at the time as clandestine as anything she was doing for the Company. It had provided her with more than one good night's sleep. Then her thoughts turned to Walker, who was groping her breast and playing with her nipple, moving the mixer slowly up and down and pressing it into her. His cock was getting harder, and she put her hand around it, almost absently. She felt it jump slightly as she did.

She worked with spies, wrote reports for senior officials, sat in meetings with the assistant chief, who sat in meetings with the President. Somehow, this man, Walker, whatever he actually did for a living, was more commanding with far less bluster. It felt too good. She started to stroke his cock through his pants. It felt like the rest of him. As frustrating as it was to be picked up, tossed around, treated like a toy, it turned her on. Her legs were starting to feel weak, her body gave a quiver here and there, and still the mixer hummed, and she was further encouraged by the man holding her. Pressed up against his body, she felt his warmth. She felt it from his cock, and she felt her own heat growing between her legs. She leaned back harder into him and moved her hands away so she could grind against him. She grabbed his shirt and held on, like she could pull him inside her if she wanted it badly enough. He responded by holding her tighter, squeezing her breast harder, moving the mixer against her a little faster. The dam broke, and a cascade of pleasure rose up from within her, and she fell into him. She came in his arms, and he held her up. After a few moments of feeling her shake, he turned the mixer off, set it on the counter, and he moved his empty hand to her pussy. He slipped his fingers between her again and then inside her, and gripped her firmly.

"If you have something to say to me, now's the time to say it," he whispered in her ear. "Why were you in the office?"

She was still breathing hard, still pressing up against him, still lost in her orgasm. "That was better than Marrakech," Camilla whispered after a few moments.

"Danger is apparently an aphrodisiac for one of us," Walker responded. "If they find out we know each other, you're going to a dark hole, and I'm going to end up in the Aare with a.32 ACP in the back of my head."

"Don't be ridiculous," she mused. "You're worth at least 9mm." A second later, "I thought you said you were going to make this look good? What are you waiting for?"

Walker rolled his eyes. "Okay then," he said, picking her up. "My turn."

Walker took her over to an island in the middle of the kitchen and set her down on the edge. It was warm in the kitchen, but the stainless steel imparted a welcome coolness to her ass. Camilla sat as Walker rummaged through a box on a shelf on the wall opposite her. He came back with a fold of cloth and a bottle of schnapps. The cloth had a modern pattern on it: burnt oranges and browns in repeating overlapping stripes on a white background. He unfolded it behind her on the island - it was a table runner. Walker took a large swig from the bottle. He picked her up again, brought her to the end of the table, and set her on the runner. Sateen? He stepped back and started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Why were you in the office, Camilla?" he asked. Four buttons down now. She could see a peek of his chest. Thick hair that had been trimmed short--a mix of brown, but the salt was new, like on his temples.

"You can let me go," she said, "you searched me--I don't have anything you want."

"You have answers," he said. His shirt was off, and he dropped it and the jacket on a different table, not bothering to fold them this time. He came back over and, putting one hand on each knee, spread her legs apart, and stepped in between them. Her nipples brushed his chest hair. Walker put his face next to Camilla's, one hand on the side of her head under her ear, gently holding her cheek to cheek. His other hand wandered up her ribs and under her breast. His thumb found her nipple and played with it idly.

"I want an explanation," he whispered in her ear. "But as far as the ambassador is concerned, I believe your story and decided to take you up on your offer."

"You have plenty that I want." He said, loudly.

She turned and glanced at the CCTV, then back at him, and gave him a withering, sarcastic look.

He took a half step back so her legs could close. "Slide your hands under your butt when I pick you up." He leaned behind her and loosened the ties on her wrists. He picked her up under the arms and Camilla slipped the cord under her hips. Her hands were still tied, but under her thighs now. She had to bend slightly, but the change in position made her shoulders feel better. She had some slack, but not enough to get it over her feet, especially not with heels.

He put one hand on her chest and the other cradling her head, and he pushed her over onto her back. Camilla made a little "Oop!" sound in surprise. Walker had a way of doing things both suddenly and gently that crept around her thoughts. Her legs were in the air, bent, her arms tied under her knees. She could have rolled to one side or the other with some concentration, but was otherwise at his mercy, as she had been for most of the evening.

"You tried to run. You're going to make it up to me." He said, not so much for her benefit as for anyone listening. He walked to the opposite end of the table and began pulling the runner, and Camilla, toward him. She could just see him if she craned her neck. He pulled until her head was perched on the edge of the table, and he leaned down over her. He gave her a little peck on the nose.

He stood back up out of sight and she heard him unbuttoning his belt and pulling a zipper down. A shuffle of fabric. She saw his arms on either side of her on the runner, and then her head was off the edge of the table.

Walker stroked his cock a few inches from her face. It did not take long before he was fully erect. Camilla felt her face begin to flush. She wasn't sure if it was from being upside down, or his Very. Large. Cock. "Oooookay," she thought to herself. She had the memory, but it didn't do him justice. He put his thumb on her chin, brushing her lower lip. "Open your mouth," he said, guiding her with his thumb. "Marrakech was nothing," he whispered.

Camilla opened her mouth.

"Call this a trust exercise," he said. "You're not going to do anything foolish like try to bite me, and I'm not going to hurt you. If you behave and you give me the answers I'm looking for, you can go." He slipped the head of his cock between her lips. She moved her tongue around him. "How does that sound?" he asked. She couldn't nod, so, mouth full, she made a "mhmm" sound. He pushed himself a little deeper into her mouth and she felt him take her breasts in both his hands. He squeezed them, then pushed them together, and then pulled them back up toward him. Camilla remembered how much he had liked her breasts. He had been so in control the whole evening, and now, as she sucked gently on him, she sensed it slipping.

She pushed her shoulder blades together so that her chest stuck out. Walker noticed her effort and massaged her breasts more gently as he began to move his hips. He was moving in short, smooth strokes, thrusting his cock into her mouth just a hair quicker than pulling back. He let out a long sigh, punctuated by a soft grunt. She swirled her tongue around the head of his cock, and under his breath, she got, "...fuuck.." in response. He played with her nipples and her body started responding more to his. They got hard and sensitive to his touch, she felt more flushed, and she started to ache softly between her legs. He pushed his cock in deeper, almost to the back of her mouth, and she held her breath. He held there, and took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and held them just firmly enough to lift them up.

She took a second deep breath, and before she could exhale, he'd put his cock back in her mouth, even deeper than before. Instead of being still, he was moving his hips again, flirting with her throat. He was pinching her nipples now, but not very hard. He stayed in for a few seconds, pulled out, let her take a breath, and then thrust in again. Each time, he went a little deeper, thrust a little more, and stayed a little longer. Each time, she took her breath a little faster. Four seconds. Breath. Then five. When he pulled out, he let her take several deep breaths, and she felt a little dizzy as fresh oxygen filled her lungs.

"Why were you in the office?" he asked her again, his cock resting just outside her mouth. She could touch it with her tongue if she wanted, she thought, or take the head of it in her mouth if she reached. He bent down, took a handful of her hair firmly, and kissed her. Plum schnapps. "Focus, Camilla," he said, making eye contact.

"I was looking for anything," she lied, "papers, notes... mmphf!" She finished her sentence with his cock in her mouth. He began his pattern again. "You weren't looking for papers," Walker said. "The papers were undisturbed." Camilla felt herself pulled into a liminal space. She felt neither frightened nor safe. Neither in control nor completely out of it. Restrained but not helpless. It was difficult to concentrate on anything except what was right in front of her, in her. She became less and less concerned about keeping the truth from him. The aching part of her wanted him to know that she'd succeeded, and she let out a little moan.

Walker pulled out and asked her, "Did you have something to say?" She shook her head no. "Then open your mouth," he replied, with a tinge of frustration in his voice. When he put his cock in this time, he didn't stop at the back of her mouth. He pushed past and into her throat. She squeezed her thumbs between her fists and swallowed around him to keep from gagging, but he was really big. He started thrusting as he grabbed her breasts again. He was playing with them, seemingly more for his own benefit than to elicit a particular response in her. He dropped his pattern completely. He still pulled out to let her take deep breaths, but it wasn't regular and predictable. He was using her. Camilla could only think about the way it felt to have Walker fucking her throat. It did not seem like he could think about anything else, either.

He was making more noise now and squeezing her breasts harder. She wasn't sure how much time had passed. Maybe two minutes, maybe three. He gave a couple hard, deep thrusts that made her eyes start to water, and then pulled out of her mouth. He didn't move back much--he was resting his glistening cock on her lips, but he leaned back and moved a hand down to her face and stroked her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I got a bit carried away." He walked around to the other side of the table and began pulling on the runner. Very slowly at first until her head was back up on the table, and then a firm jerk that brought her hips back to the other edge. He put the head of his cock between the lips of her pussy and worked it up and down gently. Walker looked like he was trying to decide something as he did. He brought his tip up to her clit and then slid his whole cock between her thighs. He put his right hand on the outside of her right knee and moved it to her left until her hips were sideways on the table. Her thighs were squeezing his cock now. Now that her legs were out of the way he looked her in the eyes.

"I'm going to level with you," he said. "You took something from the ambassador's office, but I have no idea what it is. He didn't tell me. He actually told me very little." The look in his eyes told her it was the truth. He really had no idea why she was here. He was moving between her thighs. Still very hard, she thought. "I'll back up. Anna had a friend with her on the plane that saw her get arrested. If her friend hadn't stopped to flirt with the pilot, she would have been picked up at the same time as Anna, and you likely would have gotten away with this whole thing. Her friend made some phone calls, and when you showed up tonight, as Anna, the BKA called me. Next thing you know, it's tuxedos and spiked cocktails and a beautiful woman over my knee." He smiled at her, his thoughts clearly turning to earlier activities. "Obviously you no longer have whatever you took, which means you probably already handed it off to another person, and the BKA didn't see you do it. It must have been when I was fixing your drink, or I would have seen. You've had an interesting mix of luck tonight."

"It must be important, or you likely would have told me already, but it can't be too important, or we'd be having this conversation in a basement with armed guards outside instead of a kitchen. My guess is it's something that the ambassador shouldn't have had in the first place, which is why he handed me a roll of Francs instead of a check. This piques my curiosity, because in my line of work, it never hurts to have something to hold over a high-ranking official. I'll make you a deal. Tell me what it is," he paused to rub her clit with his fingers. "And I give you the cock you're so clearly hungry for and then let you go. I'll tell them that Anna's friend made a mistake. She didn't know the Agency had a lookalike." He stressed the 'A' in Agency for her benefit. "You'll be free and clear and never have to worry about the Germans again." He looked her up and down. "Actually I'm going to fuck you either way, so just the first part is your call. Though you'll enjoy the second far more if you tell me."

Camilla did not find this a particularly difficult decision. She'd delayed long enough, she wanted him, and she knew if he hadn't blown her cover by now, he wasn't going to.

"Pinwheels for a Crypto AG CX-52 cipher." Walker stopped moving between her thighs and stroked his chin for a moment, tapping his index finger on his cheek. Camilla saw the wheels turning in his head as he was working everything out. "The ambassador was in Steinhausen last week..." he trailed off. "The CIA has someone inside Crypto AG," he said, half-statement, half-question. Camilla gave as much as a shrug as she could with her hands still bound. He smiled. "Very, very good." She didn't see the need to tell him that the CIA had the entire company, not just one employee. He'd figure it out, or she could tell him later just to see his reaction.

His attention turned back to her. Without saying anything, he took his cock from between her thighs and slid it between her lips. He lowered his eyes a bit and gave her a particularly smoky look. He took one of her wrists in his hand and put the other on her hip and pushed himself all the way inside her. A wave washed over her, pleasure erupted from between her thighs, pick a metaphor, she thought. His cock felt amazing. Camilla arched her back and closed her eyes, squeezing him tightly and concentrating on the feeling. She knew she'd won. Maybe he'd worn her down. Maybe he knew things he shouldn't. Maybe she was going to have a little trouble sitting down tomorrow. With any luck, he was about to make it harder for her to walk straight, she thought.