Sex is a Job Description? Ch. 10byGalloglaich©
Tom hadn't quite expected this last assignment before going to Hell to be such a complicated one. After a night with Sohm, which was actually more pleasant than he would have guessed it was going to be, he'd been contacted by the French Special Divisions and told that a plane was ready for take-off at the Memphis International Airport and that he was supposed to be on it in twenty minutes.
Tom, of course, had no prior warning and was required to dress properly to be presented before foreign dignitaries, grab something to eat, and find his case file before running out the door and speeding most of the way to the airport to make the plane trip even halfway late instead of totally off schedule.
On the plane, two armed riflemen asked for his weapons and he handed over his pistol, being seated across from a man who was reading through several packets of papers. Tom had nothing to do but wait for him to finish what he was doing. It seemed like almost an hour before the Frenchman set the packets aside and removed his glasses.
"Monsieur Lanzig, tell me how much you know about acquiring prostitutes," he said bluntly.
Tom was completely confused. "What?"
"Do you know anything about the subject?" the man asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about picking up hookers. It's illegal in America."
"I am aware of that," the Frenchman shot back testily. "But you are the only agent we can find within reasonable acquisition that can help us. So, it seems we have a lot of work to do in the next eight hours."
Tom sighed. "Look, just tell me what I need to do and let's get beyond all these unpleasantries and crap. What am I here to do?"
The Frenchman tapped the case file twice. "Did you read this?"
"Yeah," Tom replied. "Find a hooker, get her in bed with me, wait until you guys show up to capture her, don't get killed. Real hard. So why did you ask for me?"
"Because she is a succubus."
Tom rolled his eyes. "And you guys don't have any way of subduing her, right?"
The two guards stiffened at that, clearly offended. "I have with me photographs from the murder scenes. As you'll see, this succubus is on the warpath." The Frenchman removed a small case from overhead and opened it, handing Tom a stack of photos.
In each photo, a man lay on a bed with his skin lacerated all across his body, and a message written in his blood on the wall where the headboard of the bed stood. 'Withering Sex Drive' 'Disappointing Stamina' 'Unequalled Pacifism' 'Too Easily Dominated' 'Scared' 'No Back' 'He Is A Robot' 'Is This All You Have To Feed Me?' 'I Hunger For A Man' 'I Grow Weary Of These Children' 'Bring Me A Challenge' 'I'm Still Waiting...'
"And what makes you think that I can do anything about this?" Tom asked.
"Because you have been trained by a succubus, and you have a particularly helpful curse placed on you."
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Tom said, shaking his head. "I have not been trained by a succubus. I got an unofficial lesson on how to be dominant. I am in no way qualified to take on an actual succubus. And if she's thinking about putting her hand through my skull, how the fuck does my curse help me?"
"You have been particularly successful in pacifying hostile case subjects. We will provide all the necessary equipment, tools, and anything else you may need in your assignment. You have full cooperation of the French government and Special Divisions."
Tom rolled his eyes. "That didn't answer my questions."
"She kills because of the inadequacy of the men she couples with. You may be able to pacify her enough to be apprehended."
Tom let out a long, displeased sigh. Okay, another freak without any sense of humanity whatsoever, and this one had killed a dozen agents from France. Now, it was Tom's turn to have a swing at her. If this was his last assignment, at least he wouldn't have to face Ceria in Hell. A silver lining to everything, Tom mused to himself.
"So tell me more about this full cooperation? If I'm supposed to pose as a rich whatever, I need to know how far I can take it."
"Any and all requests will be met without question up to one million euros total. We have constructed an identity for you to use while hiring the succubus." The Frenchman pulled a folder out of his case and opened it, sliding several legal documents and identification cards and a passport, all with the name 'Wallace Price' on everything. Tom almost winced at the description they had given him.
He was supposed to be the de-facto owner of a mechanical engineering company called Bottom Line Engineering, and apparently that made him a snobby asshole who spent his time meandering around classy prostitutes and spending all his money. Apparently, they thought that throwing money around and acting like a jerk would get him into bed with this succubus faster than anything else.
"Study this and let's go over your delivery of it," the French agent said, waiting patiently as Tom started to go over everything to himself and fit himself into the fake persona. The idea of having money to do whatever you wanted was really something anybody could run with, but executing it without being conspicuously new to it was another matter entirely.
The rest of the flight to Paris consisted of Tom literally rehearsing how to deliver lines, his attitude, and the types of things to do. The agent, whose name Tom learned was Henri, said that everything would be taken care of for Tom and that the succubus would be hanging out in the Casino Le Lyon Vert. He would be taken there, and then taken back to Paris by limousine so Tom could woo the succubus.
Obviously they didn't think his opulence and generally self-important attitude would be enough to sway the prostitute's opinion. Not to mention they thought leaving him alone with a succubus for four hours was a good idea, despite his persona being less than a day old and flimsy at best.
The casino was absolutely beautiful both inside and out, but Tom had a hard time enjoying it as he searched for the succubus. He'd been given a photo of her and told to study her face so he could recognize her in a crowd, but with so many people here, and with a less-than-photographic memory, he was having a hard time finding her.
It would have been nice to know her measurements too, to find out what kind of shape he was looking for of course.
Tom made his way to the bar and ordered a glass of wine, shelling out enough money to buy a motorcycle to keep the drinks coming. The only problem with coming here was that he spoke no French whatsoever and it was going to be very difficult to talk to this succubus if she didn't speak English.
He figured he'd wait a while before looking, hoping that the woman was somewhere trolling for a client and would check the bar. It seemed like the best place to go pick up a guy, while he was sitting here drinking alone.
Occasionally, the agent would glance around the large casino, hoping that he would catch a glimpse of her. He didn't know how he'd be able to find her like that, but it was the same brand of blind hope that drove stranded hikers into the snow when they got lost.
He downed the rest of his wine and set the glass on the table, turning around to face the bar.
"Hello handsome," a silky voice drifted into Tom's ears.
He found the voice's owner and was almost surprised to find the succubus smiling at him seductively. He only remembered his persona the last second before he spoke.
"I'm surprised you can speak English," came smoothly out of his mouth.
The succubus looked surprised and insulted. "I've never heard that one before."
"You must not meet a lot of foreigners then," the agent replied, dismissing her almost entirely as his next drink came to him. The succubus took it instead and laid it gently down on the countertop.
"He'll be needing one for himself," she said to the bartender, who nodded and went to get another glass. "And you'll be needing my name soon enough," she continued.
Tom thought better of scoffing. "Listen, small talk is real fun and all, but cut to the chase. Are we leaving here soon or not? I have a flight tomorrow I don't need to miss and a night I'd like to spend somewhere nice with someone who doesn't beat around the bush."
The smile that she gave him was almost feral. "Then let us be done with this noisy place and have your night in France." She looped her arm with his and he led her out of the casino and into the limousine that came around to pick them up.
In the limo, Tom whispered to the driver to move forward with the evening and the man nodded, starting the four-hour trip to Paris. The succubus sipped at the drink she had brought with her, idly watching Tom's features as he sat boredly and looked at his watch. The thing must have cost at least two thousand dollars for all the gold and diamonds it was made of.
Clearly, he had interested the woman enough to play along with the game. He wasn't sure of how to approach things now that they had a long ride ahead of them. Was she going to try something here? They hadn't prepared well for this contingency. The only other person here to cover Tom's ass in case of trouble was the driver, and though he was armed with a sub-machinegun, she could easily take them both out if she needed to.
"You're the most interesting client I've had in quite a while, mister..." the succubus said to break the silence.
"Price," Tom answered as he adjusted his tie.
"Mister Price, how interesting that you would come all the way out here to pick up a girl you didn't even know was going to be there. It seems a bit...suspicious." She was trying to be coy about it, but Tom could see she knew what was going on, or at least guessed what was up.
"If you hadn't been first, I would be sitting across from someone else. Possibly someone with a bit more taste than to wear a black stone with a black dress. You're quite possibly the most monochromatic woman I've ever had approach me."
The succubus looked stunned. "What if I take offense to what you said? Would you let me leave like that?" She snapped her fingers for emphasis.
Tom leaned back and told the driver to return to the casino. He looked at the succubus smugly. "You're free to leave when we get there. Just don't make a scene please. It's maddening to have to change locations because of that."
"You're completely serious, aren't you?" she asked, clearly perplexed.
"I've done this before," he replied.
The succubus allowed herself to grin. "You know, it might have ended differently had you not been such a smug ass. We could be on our way to tangling ourselves in a pile of limbs, sweating, moaning in passion..."
She began to influence him with her power, her irises gleaming as she forced herself into his desires.
"Stop the car," he commanded the driver. He turned back to the succubus and glared at her.
"Get out," he said firmly.
"Over a suggestion?" she asked, pouring herself into his desires now. Tom fought her, his expression becoming more and more annoyed.
"Get out!" he shouted. "I am not a plaything for you to make dance like a puppet. I've done my research. I've put time and care and effort into coming here. And I will not have you treat me like a joke!"
The succubus was taken entirely by surprise at his tone, and immediately withdrew any attempt at forcing her way into his mind. She raised her hands in surrender and sighed, discontent with the outcome of her efforts.
"Fine, turn us around. We'll play this your way," she said, relenting.
Tom asked the driver to turn around again, which got him a very annoyed look.
"Now that that's out of the way, what is your price range?" Tom asked as calmly and professionally as he could. He only held onto his demeanor by a thread, still trying to shake off the succubus' influence.
"That was a quick change of pace," she remarked.
Tom nodded. "I wasn't lying when I said I have done this before. Your price range please?"
"Usually twenty thousand euros. Or do you want the preferred customer discount for all the work you did to find me?"
"Is fifty thousand enough? Two times and compensation for your entire night," Tom asked without waiting to look at her face as he reached beneath his seat and pulled out a small case full of money. He tossed it to her and she opened it, surprised by the amount of money she found within.
"And you expect me to just take fifty thousand?"
Tom smirked. "I trust you will if you plan to keep your veneer of being nothing more than a classy prostitute."
The succubus smiled broadly, almost cunningly. "Is that blackmail I'm hearing?"
"Succubi have few repeat customers for a reason, and I intent to not be one of those unfortunates. I trust you understand what I'm getting at." Tom watched her expression with feigned boredom, watching the stacks of euros come out of the case and into the seat next to her. More money than Tom could have hoped to save in a decade exchanged hands in less than thirty seconds.
"So that part earlier about choosing me because I was first, was it a lie?"
Tom smirked. "I'm surprised you didn't see through it immediately."
The succubus counted the stacks she had collected, closed the case, and tossed it back to Tom.
"I have a name if you'd like to call me by it. I'd like to hear it later on tonight, if you understand what I'm getting at." Her eyes shone with intrigue.
"I beg thee, grace mine ears with thy name, milady," Tom said with all the politeness he could muster, bowing with exaggerated motion.
The succubus put her hand over her mouth and tried to stifle the laughter that came out of her like he'd told her the punchline to her favorite joke. It took her a few moments of concentration to regain her composure and look him in the face without cracking a wide smile.
"I haven't heard that in years!" she said, almost breaking into laughter again. "Lamoren, my name is Lamoren." While she was composing herself again, Tom was taken almost completely aback. That wasn't the name he'd been informed of. Had she given him her real name?
"Well, Lamoren," Tom began. "I hope that this evening will be one you will remember long after the sun rises tomorrow morning."
She nodded in agreement. "I expect it will be."
------------ Hôtel Plaza Athénée, Paris ------------
"Usually these kinds of places aren't open on Saturdays, especially not at two in the morning," Lamoren remarked as she and Tom left the Alain Ducasse and waited for the limousine to pull around for them. "And you'd think it would be busier than just us two."
"Usually a quarter million euros aren't being offered for a private dinner at odd hours," Tom replied even as Lamoren gave him a look telling him she knew already.
"I would never have guessed things would be that easy."
Tom shrugged and the valet opened the door of the limo that had finally made its way around. "Connections are essential to keeping a fortune after you've made it." He gave the valet three hundred euros and sat down across from Lamoren as the door closed behind him.
"Where to now?" the succubus asked.
"Wherever you'd like," Tom replied smoothly, allowing a grin.
The succubus bit her bottom lip teasingly, replying, "What about your bedroom?"
Tom opened the door and motioned with his hand for Lamoren to get out with him. She hooked her arm with his and they reentered the Hôtel Plaza Athénée.
The elevator took them to the eighth floor and they made their way to the suite Tom had been told was prepared for the final stage of the operation. Here, all he had to do was wait for the team to come in and subdue Lamoren and then he could spend the night here and go back home on a flight tomorrow morning.
Inside the suite, Lamoren pondered the décor for a few minutes, walking from room to room as Tom went to the bar and retrieved a bottle of Champagne and two glasses, pouring them as Lamoren returned from the extraordinary bathroom.
"This place has changed so much since I last saw it a century ago. Time really does fly I suppose." They moved to the couch and made themselves comfortable. Tom handed the succubus her glass and she clinked it against Tom's before downing it all in one long drag like a shot.
"At two thousand euros a bottle and two hundred years in the making I thought you'd want to at least taste it," Tom remarked, sipping his champagne absentmindedly.
Lamoren shrugged. "I've had wine five hundred years old almost two thousand years ago. It's not a very new or interesting thing. Wine is wine no matter what you pay for it." She paused for a moment to set the glass down on the table. "But humans that are new and interesting, they are very rare and difficult to find."
She gently slipped Tom's glass out of his hand and placed it on the table, sitting back up to lean against him and put her chin on his shoulder. She let out a low, sultry chuckle and nibbled at his ear.
"And it is even rarer to have one of them find me." She put a hand on his thigh and he turned to face her, unsure of how to proceed. What were they waiting for? She was ready to be taken in right now!
"Close your eyes," said Tom. Lamoren closed her eyes and the agent leaned down slowly.
In four years of working in the Special Divisions, he had found that the one thing he was trained not to do was the one thing that made every intimate action memorable and worthwhile. Sex without even one kiss just felt empty and lackluster.
Lamoren's mood changed and she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pressing herself against him as she rubbed his inner thigh gently. Tom put a hand around her waist and pulled her snugly against him, watching her black dress slide up her legs. The agent slid his tongue along her teeth, tasting the wine as their lips mingled. Lamoren obliged after a moment and parted her teeth, allowing Tom's tongue to entangle itself with hers in a fight for the joint space of their mouths.
Realizing that there was a full, king-sized bed in the bedroom, Tom attempted to slid his arm beneath Lamoren's legs and lift her, but she just smiled at that and guided his hand between her legs instead.
"Let it be as natural as it can be. Things lie where they fall," she whispered, kissing him hard as her free hand left his wrist and moved to unbutton his shirt. Her ring was on the floor already, and her thin golden necklace beside it.
Tom removed his jacket with some effort, trying not to break their kiss and using only one hand. He traced the lacy undergarment she had on with his fingers and only stopped to remove his jacket. When he resumed, the succubus inhaled sharply and then giggled with satisfaction.
"Just get rid of my shirt. I have more," the agent said as she finished unbuttoning it. She gave him a look like she thought he was kidding, but he returned it with a serious one, so she pinched the fabric with her nails and the proceeded to tear his shirt down the sleeves and literally cut it off his body. He tossed it aside and gently lowered the succubus onto her back.
She slid her dress up her thighs slowly, over her hips to reveal her lacy thong.
"This is the part where we have to stop to undress," Lamoren said with a hint of playfulness in her voice. Tom nodded and their lips parted. He repositioned himself and took hold of her hands gently, putting them over her head slowly. She lay stretched out before him on the couch, like a lioness in heat, curvy, hungry, beautiful.
Tom lowered himself to her body and began to slide his hands up her hips, catching the end of her dress as his hands moved higher and higher. He kissed her stomach just beneath her navel, and the succubus shuddered with delight, anticipating more. Tom then kissed her navel, gently dipping his tongue into the jeweled depression. Lamoren raked her nails on the arm of the couch and grabbed it for dear life.