Zero Fifty or One Hundred, a sequel

****

It had been weeks since the traumatic conclusion to Sharon and Bob's ordeal, and life had resumed it's usual course in their little household.

Well - it's usual course, with a few notable exceptions.

On this particular afternoon Bob found himself strapped spread eagled and naked to the bed with his rock-hard manhood standing up straight in anticipation. He would have been quite a sight for anybody who were to enter the bedroom, but since Casey was sleeping over at her grandparents house, there was only one possible person in the frame.

As on cue the door opened and Sharon appeared in the doorway. She was a vision to behold, wearing nothing but the jacket of her old uniform, a garterbelt with long black stockings and shiny riding boots. In her hand she held a short whip that was definitely not standard military issue.

"Greetings you nasty spy," she drawled in a mock Slavic accent. "I trust that you are comfortable, yes?"

Bob just nodded, his eyes burning with lust.

"I see. Well, we shall soon change that," she continued and ran the whip teasingly over the head of his cock making him gasp from the sudden sensation.

She stepped onto the bed and sat down astride him. He could feel his cock sliding along her ass-crack, as she bent forward and whispered into his ear.

"I will now present you with three choices mr. Spy. You must choose one, and you better choose wisely."

She sat back up and started to doodle on his chest with the whip.

"Option one. You can tell me all your secrets voluntarily and I will reward you with a blowjob for offering zero resistance. In fact, let's call this option zero."

Sharon held up two fingers.

"Your second option is to have me repeatedly tease you to the edge of orgasm, but never allowing you to cum unless you tell me what I want to know. It will require a little more work on my part, but I am at least fifty percent sure that you will break eventually. Let's refer to this as option fifty."

She held up one more finger.

"Or you can choose the final option: To have me alternate between whipping your cock and power-fucking it until you have spilled absolutely everything you have, secrets as well as bodily fluids. It could take a long time to make sure that I get it all, but I am a very dedicated and thorough interrogator. This is the hundred percent solution, so lets call it option one hundred. "

Sharon bent down again and whispered right next to his ear sending shivers down his spine.

"So what's it gonna be mr. Spy? Zero, fifty or one hundred?"

"H-hundred..." Bob gasped.

****

Epilogue - Undisclosed location. Debriefing session Tango Alpha Three Four Nine.

"And we basically have no idea who eliminated the subject?" the elderly man wearing the insignia of a general asked.

"No sir," Brad replied. "I can assure the board that it was none of my men. I have conducted a thorough investigation, including a complete ammo status, and none of them fired a weapon on that night."

Another elderly man in civilian clothes seated next to the general wanted to know why none of the snipers had fired in the first place.

"According to your report the operative did call out the abort code, correct?"

"Yes," Brad admitted. "But I judged the value of the subject - who was our only lead to a major international information broker - to be higher than our operative. The snipers were present in order to make the operative feel comfortable, but they had specific instructions to not interfere. Even at the cost of the life of our operative. She is retired anyway and was only recalled for temporary duty, so she is a low value asset."

The man in civilian clothes nodded in agreement.

"Well, I have no further questions. How about you general?"

The old man shook his head.

"In that case I will declare this hearing concluded. I thank you all for your participation and colonel?"

"Yes Sir?" Brad said snapping to attention.

"Please continue your efforts to identify the source of the shot that took out our subject."

"Aye Sir!"

****

Epilogue - The Algarve Coast, Portugal. Somewhere on the beach.

The woman formerly known as Vicki stretched lazily in her beach chair and took a sip of her Margarita.

"Did the second half of the payment go through properly?" she asked, the question obviously directed at the man lounging in the chair beside her. The man formerly known as Ron.

"Sure did. I guess our client is satisfied with the quality of the merchandise."

"Of course he is, "the woman formerly known as Vicki remarked dryly. "He got everything, including blueprints, dev notes and all test results. It will save them millions and several years of development. Only fair that we are well compensated for such a treasure trove."

The man formerly known as Ron laughed in agreement.

"And you are absolutely sure that Luke Jonas is out of the picture for good?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," the man assured her. "I took care of him myself and watched his skull explode through the scope. Nothing leads back to us."

"Yuck!" the woman formerly known as Vicki exclaimed. "Way too much information! I trust you to tie up all loose ends. No need for gory details."

After a few minutes of silence the man formerly known as Ron asked in a somber voice, "Do you regret leaving? We lived in that place for a long time after all."

"It was time, "she replied. "In our line of work you can't grow too attached to anywhere or anyone. If you do, it will come back to bite you in the ass sooner or later."

She took another sip of her drink.

"Think about it - how long would it have taken Sharon to realize that Luke used her as a way of keeping her husband distracted so we could secure the merchandise without raising suspicion at a critical time? And how long before she figured out that I fed her husband information indicating that she was having an affair? Not to mention the fact that they both were under the impression that Gail was my sister and you were my husband."

"And that you were kind of an airhead," the man added.

"Yep, that too. When you play a role 24/7 you constantly have to invent new stories to cover various contingencies as they arise. The complex of lies you need to juggle grows exponentially larger over time, making it ever harder to keep your ducks in a row. The timing was perfect, don't you see? We needed to pull the plug and the big score was ripe for the taking."

"Can't fault your logic," the man formerly known as Ron said. "But I kinda liked being your husband. Shouldn't we consider making that part of the story real?"

The woman snorted in her drink and slipped into a coughing fit.

"Fuck! Don't make me laugh while I'm drinking, " she gasped between coughs.

"And what if I was serious?" he added.

She drained her glass in one gulp and put it down on the sand, after which she turned to look him straight in the eyes.

"Then I would politely but firmly decline. I am not marriage material, and neither are you. We work great as partners in business and friends with benefits, but as partners in life we would be a total disaster. And you know it too."

The man couldn't help smiling. He completely agreed.

"Besides," the woman formerly known as Vicki continued, "if we were married I wouldn't be able to seduce and fuck the living shit out of that hunky surfer over there. And I am tipsy, horny and eager to check out whether he is carrying a flashlight in his boxers or if that bulge contains something more pleasurable."

"In that case I will go explore the town and see if I can find an attractive senorita who will appreciate my flashlight," the man formerly known as Ron remarked and rose from his chair. "Enjoy your surfer and look out for sharks."

He winked, blew her a kiss and went on his way.

"Oh, I think the sharks had better look out for me," the woman formerly known as Vicki thought to herself and smiled predatorily in the direction of the surfer.

With hungry eyes fixed on her prey, she rose slowly from her chair...