3 comments/ 39400 views/ 14 favorites Agents By: crialia As Sarah awoke, she briefly remembered what it was like before her sentence had been carried out. This was part of the punishment. She was meant to remember, to understand what had been taken from her, and why. The memories imposed themselves on her conscious mind as vivid as though they dated from only yesterday. She remembered her boyfriend, Miguel, remembered how she'd felt when she'd realised he'd cheated on her. She remembered the white powder, mixed in with his tequila, and how he'd looked so confused and afraid as the chemicals attacked his brain. She remembered how she'd used those last few moments of lucidity to explain what was happening to him, how his brain function was being impaired, how the damage would be permanent. She remembered explaining why, telling him how hurt she'd been, how he deserved what was coming to him. By the time her explanations were over, he was in considerable pain, and two hours later, when the pain had passed, he'd lacked the intelligence to hate her for what she'd done, or to realise what he'd lost. He looked completely unchanged on the outside, and she'd taken advantage of that. Stripping him of his intelligence had made him a much better lover. Far less self-conscious, and far less gentle. Then she'd left him in the motel. After all, he'd checked them in, and the receptionist didn't even have her name. She'd never looked back. These thoughts, remembered so vividly every time she awoke, were the prosecution's case. They were engraved on her consciousness so that she would forever remember the reason why the rest of her day was not entirely within her control. The rest only kicked in once the memories were done. She felt the low heat beginning in her loins. Well within her ability to master. They hadn't taken her self-control. She knew she would be able to function for another hour or so. Enough time to have breakfast and get cleaned up. But the heat would continue to grow. Within minutes it would be an effort to ignore, within the hour it would be impossible. From experience she knew that ninety minutes after she'd awoken, she'd have sex with any person willing to take her, and that nothing else would allow her to reclaim her reason. Then she'd have a period of relative sanity before it started all over again. The only way to sate the hunger she'd feel would be to have an orgasm. Luckily they'd made that pretty easy for her. In a way though, that was part of the ingenuity of what they'd done. Every orgasm merely reinforced the changes, and ensured their lasting influence. They'd turned her into her own jailor. They'd made her love what she'd been turned into. Breakfast was a coffee and a croissant, quickly devoured to leave ample time for her to clean up and get ready for her first client. He was an elegant but young businessman, South American, a regular. They were all regulars at this point. No doubt a pretty young wife or girlfriend at home, looking for an experience or an enthusiasm that she couldn't provide. A two hour session for this gentleman, and Sarah felt the butterflies in her stomach, just as she always did, the excitement at the coming carnality thrumming through her. When she saw him, she was smiling happily, her eyes glancing at his crotch and wondering if he'd let her take him in her mouth. She was in the mood for that today, and there'd be plenty of time for some cruder stuff later - she had a client with simpler desires coming for lunch, but Benito, who was presently standing at the threshold of her bedroom, had more sophisticated tastes. She giggled involuntarily and her brunette curls bounced about her shoulders and over her breasts, completely lost to the role she had been given. The role she had become. After crippling Miguel, she'd travelled north to Los Angeles, but the couple of thousand dollars she'd saved up didn't last long. She'd reluctantly taken her first client in a nightclub. A case of mistaken identity, he'd thought she was an escort because of the way she was dressed. She'd been hoping to hook some guy who'd take care of her for a few days, take her back to his hotel room in one of the casinos and keep her for the week, feeding and housing her. She'd needed the money, or at least some solution to her problem, quickly. The offer had been too good to pass up, and she'd let him take her back to the Atlantic casino, where he had a standard room, but enough cash to pay her the six hundred dollars he'd promised her for the night. If he'd been a less good lover, she might never have considered the career she'd finally chosen. But he turned out to be the best she'd ever had. After a solid two hours of sex games, he'd held her by the hips as he finished inside her, and she'd been so wonderfully fucked that she hadn't even cared that he'd not been wearing a condom. Luck meant she didn't have to spend the six hundred on an abortion. She learned to identify the type that paid well, loved sex and treated her decently. A couple of early mistakes had provided her with the necessary lessons in survival. She still had one discreet scar on her right wrist to show for it. Her body had provided the lure necessary to bring in enough cash that within two years she'd had the apartment, the car, the cleaner and two other girls in town to which she could send the clients she didn't want who paid her significant kickbacks for the referrals. Life had been good. She'd been thinking about retirement in a couple of years. She never thought about Miguel the retard anymore. With hindsight, she should have seen it coming. After all, she was supposed to have good instincts for identifying bad clients. It had also been her first female client. What had she been thinking? The girl, Melissa, had come up to her in a nightclub. Blonde hair, blue eyes, thin because of the sport she practiced rather than the food she didn't eat. Absolutely gorgeous. She'd known the names of three of her clients and said they'd referred her to Sarah, saying that she was the best. She wanted to know if two girls might get together for some fun. "I want to know what it feels like to see you coming as I slide my fingers over your clit. I want to know what if feels like to orgasm with your tongue between my legs." In short, Sarah had been seduced by the girl as much as by the enormous amount of cash she'd offered: two thousand dollars for the night. Sarah had never done another woman, but with her knowledge of how to get herself off, she knew she could please Melissa in every way. She wasn't really into girls, but didn't care given the amount of money on offer. Sex had become a way to earn money, she didn't get much pleasure from it any more. Even orgasms felt almost routine. They'd gone back to Sarah's apartment. "I'm too horny to think straight - do you mind just doing me once before we get started? I promise I'll return the favour several times over." Sarah didn't mind at all. She was, after all, on the clock, and she believed in giving the best service possible, which meant pretty much anything the client wanted. She'd gone slowly, loosening Melissa's hair, scratching her scalp, caressing her neck and down her sides before bringing her hands around her sides to lift and caress her perfectly proportioned and extremely firm breasts. She unzipped the other girl's skirt and, kneeling behind her on the bed, caressed up her thighs teasing and raising the temperature. Melissa seemed to get into it with ease, letting herself go in Sarah's hands and accepting everything that was done to her, letting her arousal ratchet, even moaning when a well lubricated finger teased around her anus. Melissa was soon lying naked on the bed with her legs apart as Sarah worked her with her tongue. Within half an hour, she squealed and thrashed gently on the bed, before settling down and pulling the other girl into a hug, latching onto a nipple with her mouth and gently sucking as she recovered from the orgasm. Sarah waited for her client to recover, enjoying the gentle sucking on her breast more than she thought she would. Gradually, she felt the pleasure spread outwards and downwards. Her other nipple puckered and she felt gentle shivers in her belly. Melissa's hands began to move, ever so gently, around Sarah's body, exploring and discovering the curves and softness of her skin. It felt like a combination of soothing and arousing, and Sarah felt herself gradually letting go to the sensations, her efforts to stroke Melissa's hair falling away as the sensations enveloped her like a warm, gently erotic blanket. As she let go, the movements became slightly firmer, tracing tense muscles on the one hand and caressing newly-discovered erogenous zones on the other. Her limbs relaxed but the sensations built. A hand would flow down her back and caress a buttock before kneading the slightly tense muscle in her thigh, while the other hand could caress the nape of her neck and then rub a thumb gently over her lips. And always that mouth sucking on her nipple, gently and insistently, lighting a slow fire in her loins. After fifteen minutes, Sarah was lost in the sensations, sighing occasionally as a hand found a new spot to caress. She offered no resistance at all as she was gently encouraged onto her back, the mouth following her impossibly sensitive left breast as she went. On her back, the sensations began to escalate, a hand encircling and caressing her other breast, the combination of softness on one side and wetness on the other lifting her arousal smoothly and inexorably while the other hand caressed over her belly, not yet honouring the unspoken promise to move lower, to more sensitive places. Floating on a cloud, Sarah was not aware of time passing. Melissa built her arousal with consummate skill, always delivering just enough to keep her immobile, waiting for the next wonderful sensation, but never any more, certainly never enough to give her a sense that a conclusion was approaching. Soon, Sarah had even stopped thinking of orgasm as the destination, and just floated on a cushion of pleasure. When the mouth moved away from her breast, it was immediately replaced by slick fingers that continued the stimulation, another gasp in an ocean of gentle sighs and quiet moans. The gentle kiss on her lips indicated the next movement in the symphony, and Sarah arched slightly as the tongue entered her mouth, caressing her lips in time with the fingers on her nipple, the caresses on her other breast. She felt a thigh slide between hers, and she spread her legs slightly without thinking about it. A hand moved down her tummy towards the juncture of her thighs, and the kiss ended as gently as it had started. Sarah was beginning to breathe deeply, panting as her heart rate rose, an hour of constant arousal washing through her nervous system and her drifting mind. She sucked instinctively on the finger that was placed against her lips, her thoughts a blur of pleasure. The finger moved down towards a breast, wet with her saliva, moistening the nipple again, and she felt kisses on her belly, moving down, following the hand which had passed her hips and moved teasingly to her parted knees. Now the tongue was moving south, and the hand moving north, caressing the impossibly sensitive skin on an inner thigh. They were destined to meet at her wet and heated core. Sarah's hips began to move up and down, anticipating the sensations that were promised by everything she'd felt so far. She was incredibly wet, lifted expertly onto a high-wire of arousal, and only now beginning to realise how incredibly close to orgasm she already was, despite not once having been touched between her legs. The finger moved up the top of her inner thighs to her sex, and slid into her vagina just as the tongue moved around the hood of her clitoris. Sarah let out a ragged moan and her hands clenched at the sheets, but the finger was moving too slowly, and providing too little friction, and the tongue drove her still upwards, but the lack of direct contact with her clit denied her the orgasm. Her hips moved in slight desperation, but the stimulation remained constant, Melissa holding her at this level of arousal. Minutes passed. Sarah didn't speak, didn't touch herself, what she was feeling was too perfect and she was terrified of breaking the spell. She lay there and submitted to what was being done to her, and Melissa edged her closer again to her orgasm with a quick flick of her tongue at the tip of her clit, and a slow curling of the finger inside her, drawing from her another desperate gasp, followed by a long, ragged moan. An hour and a half had passed since Melissa's orgasm and the moment when that beautiful little mouth had closed around Sarah's nipple, but Sarah felt as though she'd been floating in pleasure for an eternity. Sarah was past the point where she had any control over herself at all. Melissa led the dance, with Sarah's body responding perfectly to every little stimulation. Suddenly, the tongue disappeared, and the fingers inside her curled with more strength than before, causing a shudder to run through Sarah's body and some fluid to escape around the hand between her legs. Her eyes flew open, somehow sensing the end approaching, and what she saw was Melissa, naked with one hand down between her legs, kneeling between her parted thighs, and looking straight into her eyes with smile and a look of concentration. For the first time Sarah became aware of a vague blurring at the periphery of her thoughts, like someone looking at a window, waiting for the curtain to be drawn back. She had never felt this before, but part of her quickly realised what was happening. Panic spread in the small part of her rational brain that was still operational, but the fingers inside her carried on moving carefully to keep her just short of orgasm. Her arousal was so acute that her fear, and her sudden understanding of what was happening, was insufficient to overcome her body's desperate need for release, and two fingers moving ever so gently inside her were sufficient to keep the fire of arousal burning and the door to her mind ajar. "Sarah Trammond, as part of the Psychiatric Enforcement Division of the Federal Penitentiary Service, I am authorised to carry out Adjustment on your person by virtue of a judgement duly rendered by the Courts of the State of Texas, and on their behalf, for the crime of mental mutilation of Miguel Jorge Figuera." She was in a blind panic, her eyes wide and staring as she lay prone, her need for orgasm unabated and her hips helplessly squirming under the Agent's ministrations. They were supposed to be urban legends, humans were telepathically shielded by nature, and the fact that you could crack that shielding with orgasm was supposed to be a myth. Everyone tried it when they were in their late teens and twenties, but it never worked. This scene was something drawn from a surreal erotic nightmare, but if that was true, why did she feel so helplessly close to orgasm? Melissa smiled, as gorgeous carrying out her sentence as she had been when she'd first seduced Sarah in the nightclub, her lips and face damp from Sarah's fluids. "There's nothing you can do honey, we're trained for years to do this to people, just lie back and enjoy it." Her breathing was coming in hard gasps, the orgasm building inside her despite her fear that it would crack open her mind and allow Melissa to make any adjustment she wanted, or in this case, an adjustment mandated by the court. The myths about Agents suggested that these punishments were often very creative. "Puh.... haa... pl...ease? Oh God that's .... help... please don't." "I am drawing out these last moments in the execution of your punishment because of the circumstances of Mr. Figuera's mutilation. You made him understand what you had done to him before it was complete. He was a witness to his own mental crippling. He is, even in his simple, present state, quite deeply scarred by the experience. It is my job to inflict a similar experience on you, although yours will be far more pleasant physically than his." Melissa's other hand came down on Sarah's lower belly, just above her mons, and massaged gently, releasing waves of pent-up pleasure that washed over her, causing her to pull back her shoulders. As her breasts moved, she felt their sensitive flesh as their weight shifted, stimulating the nerves in the skin that Melissa had so carefully sensitised. She came to within a razor's width of orgasm, but Melissa pulled her back from the brink. "I will change you. You will orgasm when and how I will it. The moment of greatest pleasure of your life will determine your fate for the rest of it. You are as helpless to me as Miguel was to you." She let long seconds pass, floating Sarah on the brink of orgasm, to allow her a full understanding of her predicament. Sarah hadn't even thought of letting go of the sheets, which were still clenched within her fists. Her pelvis humped the hand between her legs, and the only reason she didn't involuntarily drive herself to orgasm was that Melissa's hand was moving with her, reducing the stimulation to the gentlest of sensations. Melissa leaned forwards, keeping the fingers inside Sarah moving, and placing another on her breast, caressing the taut soft flesh. "It's time, Sarah." She placed a gentle kiss on Sarah's mouth, caressing the inside of her lips with her tongue, and then as she drew back, she arched two fingers upwards in Sarah's pussy, and her thumb rode up the length of her entrance and came into direct contact with the other girl's clitoris, rubbing gently but firmly, and pulling the trigger on the arousal she had built in the other girl. Sarah felt the sensations shatter through any hope she had of containing her orgasm. Almost two hours of expert sexual techniques, beyond anything she had ever learned as an escort, had brought her to a state of arousal far beyond what she had previously thought possible. She was hurled over the edge and the orgasm took her like a hurricane. Pleasure exploded in her body, not so much from her loins, but from everywhere. An all-encompassing orgasm seized her from the tips of her breasts to the ends of her toes. A short sharp sound escaped from her lips and her hips arched violently off the bed. Her natural mental shield collapsed, and Melissa had many long seconds to exercise her influence over the confused, pliant mind behind it. To Sarah, the invasion felt like the mental equivalent of sex, a wet foreign presence in her most intimate place, leaving behind its seed of change inside her. Her orgasm went on and on, and she felt more and more changes being made, but had no ability to stop them, or understand what they meant, as the pleasure continued to paralyse and occupy her conscious mind. She collapsed on the bed like a rag doll and Melissa removed her hand from between the other girl's legs. Despite no longer being stimulated, Sarah continued to contort herself on the bed, as the orgasm rolled on inside her, her hips and legs seeming to have a mind of their own. The pleasure faded only slowly, and her first conscious thought was that even if she was lobotomised, it might actually have been worth it. When she opened her eyes, she saw Sarah still sitting on the bed between her legs, watching as the mental shields naturally sprang back into place, locking her out of her victim's mind once more. "What... ugh... did you do?" She managed between orgasmic aftershocks. "Oh... you'll find out." Melissa stood up and began putting her clothes back on, lacy underwear first, miniskirt second, and the tight top third. By the time she was dressed, a very shaky Sarah had managed to make it to her feet, and staggered across the room to push Sarah against the door. Agents of SHIELD: The Mentorship A/N: This fic is made possible by contributions from readers like you. Skye still thought SHIELD was the jackbooted fist of a despotic international hegemony, but they gave great hours. After two nonstop, touch and go months in Kiev trying to keep anyone from exploding things that were better off not exploding, they were finally being given a couple weeks of R&R. The moment the Bus was parked, the men were off along with Jemma, duffel bags packed and headed for parts unknown. Skye stayed behind while May powered down the aircraft and gave it a walk-around. Skye knew May would check it again before she powered it back up, and woe betide any changes that had been made without being cleared by her first. Skye didn't approach her then. She waited onboard, going over her speech again and again, and almost missed May finally leaving. She ran down the stairs, narrowly missing the maintenance crews coming onboard, and wore her heels toward nubs on the tarmac, running after May. "Hey! Hey, May, wait up!" she called, and May turned, looking perfectly cool even wearing black leather in Colorado, mid-summer. It was the aviator sunglasses, had to be. "So hey, what're you doing this weekend?" "It's classified." Skye laughed. "Good one!" "Not a joke." Skye coughed. "'Course. But hey, after that, how about a girls' night out—" "What do you want?" May asked, the intonation of a robot in a fifties B-movie. "Well, it's like this. I was going through a list of all the foster homes I was placed in, and it turns out that in one of them, in Florida of course, there was some weird stuff reported at the same time. I got shipped out, like, twice as fast as usual—" "Imagine that," May muttered. "So I'm thinking, what if it was one of the original agents? What if one of them came to check up on me when they heard and personally got me out of there? This could be her, May, this could be my mother, or at least a clue, you never know." "And therefore you want me to take you all the way to Florida, and during my time off, get into the usual half-baked shenanigans with you." "I don't plan on there being shenanigans," Skye said, eyes wide. "Plus, it'll be a great chance for us to spend some time together! We never spend any time together—van girl and plane woman." May crossed her arms as she slithered closer, regarding Skye like some not particularly interesting new species of bug. "No." "No?" Skye cried. "Why not?" "Are you asking or just whining?" "I want to know!" Skye protested. "Coulson would do it." "I'm not Coulson. I don't give a shit about your hackneyed backstory, your inane hijinks, or your puppy dog eyes. The fact is, it offends me that all you care about is how to resolve your mommy issues, rather than this organization's mandate." "Hey, I care about SHIELD. I want to be the best SHIELD agent I can be! You guys are like a family to me." "And you're a parasite." May craned her head, her lips sinking into Skye's vision. "You clown around, pretending to be useful with your 'social media skills', but all you really do is wonder about your past, as if it could make up for what a waste you've turned out to be now. You have no place in SHIELD, no interest or understanding in our agency, and if I were Coulson, I would've kicked you off my plane a long time ago." "Don't say that!" Skye cried, vitally ashamed as she felt tears rushing to her eyes like blood from a wound. "How can you say that?" "You're incompetent and unmotivated. You've had enough chances to prove your worth, and I'm still left waiting to be impressed. Right now, the best thing you could do for this team is tender a resignation so we can give your room to someone who pulls their weight." "I just—I'm sorry, alright?" The tears flowed free, like a levee had broken. As Skye became aware of their heat spreading across her face, she turned and ran. May watched her go. In a moment, she followed after. *** May didn't mean to be so rude. She liked the kid, to a point. It was just that Skye made her downright irritable. She seemed like she was a flavor of fucked up that May wasn't familiar with, and that put her on edge. Always trying to make Coulson happy, and it came so easy. All she had to do was breathe and daddy Phil was proud. And then trying to make May happy, but never succeeding. It ignored May, how ingratiating Skye could be. She should've been satisfied with Coulson's praise. He was team leader, after all. It was his job to gladhand the troops, not May's. And May wasn't immune to Skye's charms. Half the time Skye was just this little puppy, running around with her tongue out for attention, yapping about anything and everything, and May found her enthusiasm as entertaining as the next agent. But she could also be an entitled little brat, getting on May's nerves with her constant disregard for rules and regulations, thinking she was the first person in SHIELD's seventy-year history to have a brain. And the clothes she wore... The tight T-shirts, the belly-baring tops, the painted on jeans. So the Bus was her home and they were all one big happy family. She should still be aware of how she affected group morale, walking around in jean cut-offs that let her legs go up forever. May was still surprised one of the boys hadn't fucked her yet. Still, it wasn't Skye's fault that Coulson was spoiling her rotten. Five minutes at the Academy would've been enough to break her in, but because of her free ride, she was left thinking that field agents were supposed to be uppity bitches like her. May felt for her. Someday, she'd be part of a real team, not Coulson's barbershop quarter, and she'd have to face front like all the rest. But that rude awakening could be put off. May went after her, wondering how she could apologize when she'd meant every word she'd said. *** In the first empty room she could find, Skye struggled to get her breathing under control, stop the tears from flowing. She was a strong, independent woman, a hacktivist, a SHIELD trainee. So why did she get so turned on when Melinda May talked down to her? She wasn't a masochist or anything. When other people insulted or dismissed her or called her names, she got mad, she stood up for herself. But with May, she had faulty wiring. Every disapproving glare made Skye want to prove herself to May, please her, and that was just her mind. Her body truly went off the rails. All told, she must've spent several cumulative hours in the Bus's bathroom, splashing cold water on her face just to stay in control. Even then, she went through more than a few pairs of panties. And at night, lying alone in bed, she thought of May with her controlled rage and her dismissive attitude, and her body short-circuited. As much as she tried to resist, nine times out of ten she ended up relieving herself. The next morning, May always seemed to know, looking at Skye like she'd become even more offensive. And even if Skye was just projecting, that simply humiliated her more, made her want to run back to her bed and hump the mattress until she came. May was just so perfect, an ice sculpture, and her voice only gained any sharpness when she was talking down to Skye. Maybe it was that only Skye got that reaction—that attention—from the pilot. God, she was such a freak. A pervert. A slut. If May knew, she'd hate her even more. She'd jam her finger into Skye's chest, right over her heart, and tell her she was an embarrassment to SHIELD, a complete fucking loser. Hot tears burned their way down Skye's face like lava from a volcano. Her hands mirrored them, running down her body over swollen nipples and tensing stomach, down under her skirt. If only it were May touching her. *** It was easy to follow Skye. She'd stepped in a puddle and her footprints dappled the floor, pointing like an arrow to the hangar's supply closet. May went inside, shutting the door behind her. Skye was in the corner, nearly fetal, her back turned to May and heaving with sobs. Wonderful, Melinda, you've made her cry. May stepped closer, trying to announce herself with her echoing footprints, but Skye was lost in her own world of grief. She didn't notice May until the older woman put her hand on her shoulder. Then her head whipped around, looking up at Skye with a face so red and so heated it could've been on fire. Christ, how bad did I traumatize her? "I'm..." Skye stammered. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I wasn't—" May didn't know what to say. She wasn't Coulson. She didn't care about touchy-feely bullshit. So she just coiled her hands on Skye's shoulders and rubbed insistently, soothingly. A fresh batch of tears dripped off Skye's face, but she relaxed into May's touch, finally dipping her head against May's hip. *** Skye was completely confused. May had caught her masturbating, and the shame of that burnt in her core, but May wasn't yelling at her—under these circumstances, that probably would've made her gush in her panties. Instead, May was touching her, and it felt so good, but it was so wrong, so embarrassing. The longer it went on, the more and more ashamed Skye felt, the more she wanted to drop into the Earth and die while at the same time never wanting this humiliating interlude to stop. May crouched down on her haunches, gently running her fingers through Skye's hair, caressing her face with cooling fingers, and Skye actually felt unashamed for once. She felt good. And she felt so thankful all of a sudden, that May understood, accepted her, that she couldn't hold it in. Turning, she wrapped her arms around May's neck and jammed their lips together. *** May didn't react to the kiss. She filed that away for later. What did concern her was the sharp smell on the hand Skye was currently cupping her cheek with. Once Skye had finished her expression of... whatever, May caught her hand and sniffed. As Skye's expression changed to one of dawning horror, May reached under her skirt and cupped her crotch. Wet. "Enjoying yourself?" May asked. Her lip actually wobbling, Skye backed away, tripped on her own heels, and landed on that firm ass she was so proud of. The impact jolted her skirt up her thighs, exposing the white cotton panties that May had just handled. May had a lifetime of experience to draw on, more than one in fact, having done more missions in her forty-odd years than a score of other agents. If Skye were a contact, an enemy agent she was trying to turn, a source to be squeezed for information, she would've known exactly what to do. Her instincts were screaming at her that Skye was vulnerable, that now was the time to press her advantage. Indulge that fantasy she'd been entertaining in quiet moments. And May saw no reason not to. In the same time it took for May to decide on her plan of attack, Skye realized her skirt was practically up to her waist. She reached to pull it down. "Don't!" May ordered, her voice as stern as Skye had ever heard it. The older woman straightened, arms crossed, long legs taking small steps toward the fallen girl. "Stay down." Skye looked up at her, seeing her own tear-strewn face in the reflection of May's aviator sunglasses. Stop crying, stop crying, she ordered herself, but it was no use. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, please don't tell anyone, it won't happen again, promise." "Oh, I think it will." Her boots falling between Skye's open legs, May stopped her advance. She crouched down. The crying reflection loomed larger on her sunglasses. "I think it'll happen whenever I say it happens, from now on." "What?" Skye asked, her confusion growing. Her mind jumped to the obvious conclusion and her cheeks burned at her own mental insinuation. God, she really was a freak, thinking May would want to have anything to do with. "I don't explain myself to you. If you want to know, figure it out." With no further words, May reached under Skye's skirt and drew out her panties. Skye whimpered in embarrassment as they came down to her thighs. She actually squealed when May ripped them off. The pilot neatly filed them away in one of her jacket pockets. "These are mine now." "Okay," Skye agreed, nodding desperately. Anything to have this over with. She wondered why the worst embarrassments were the ones she didn't want to end. "Don't tense up," May ordered. Her hand was back between Skye's legs. "I want you relaxed and breathing normally. This won't hurt if you do that." Skye gasped as she felt a finger, two, inside her. May... "I don't want to hurt you, Skye, but I will if that proves necessary." Skye could only nod, her breathing high-pitched with shock, pleasure, and more than a little pain. May descended on her, clamping the forearm of her free hand across Skye's throat to hold her in place as her other hand went to work between Skye's thighs. Her legs topped Skye's, holding them in place. Skye was pinned down by the other woman, and there was no place she would've rather been. She had to actually work to keep from being moved by the savage thrusting of May's arm against her body, her breasts shaking violently under her shirt, her voice reduced to a series of gasping cries that she fought to contain. It was useless. Just as useless as resisting the orgasm that arrived just a few short seconds after May penetrated her. She mewled like a wounded animal and May did not slow down. She went harder and faster. Skye remembered, of all things, her last sexual encounter with Miles. It'd been good, she wouldn't have been dating him if it hadn't, but when May had caught her afterward, seen her next to naked and known what she'd been doing, the attention she'd gotten from her—the feeling of being the focus of all that tightly controlled power—it had aroused her more than all her time with Miles put together. And now, that focus was on pleasuring her. No, on fucking her, dominating her. Skye was practically May's prison bitch and she couldn't hate a single second of it. She thought this had to be the best sex she would ever have. She was wrong. May added another finger, and after another half-dozen thrusts, Skye was screaming out another orgasm. It echoed through the small room, surely through the thin walls, and Skye wondered if anyone could hear it. If they would come to see her, getting railed by May. Her bitch. Skye came again. And she couldn't believe it, but barely a minute later, she was coming again. Then once more. Soon, she lost track of her orgasmic pleasure, of time passing. All she was aware of was that she was the focus of May's attention, that May was entirely focused on her, on humiliating her by making her come like a whore with next to no effort, and Skye didn't mind at all. She loved being in May's power, having someone taking all control from her only to be entirely devoted to her pleasure. She didn't care if the hanger's entire maintenance crew came to watch her get fucked. Her only fear was that May would stop. She needn't have worried. May had two more fingers to add. Not to mention a thumb. Skye made it to four fingers before May took pity on her, deciding to rub her clit instead of fisting her. Skye had moaned herself hoarse in her time with May, but she found her voice once more, and her scream filled May's ears like an opera aria until she finally lost consciousness. May only made her come once more after that. Skye was so cute when she was sleeping and getting fucked. *** Skye woke up slowly. The first thing she was aware of was the satisfied smile on her face, so big it hurt her cheeks. A pleasantly intense ache covered her body like a suntan in summer, and when she moved the muscles of her thighs it sent pain out into her body. She didn't know how long she'd been unconscious, but she was still exhausted. Heavy-eyed, but with a flush of being sated. It took her a while to realize the sex wasn't over. She was sitting in the passenger seat of a car, May at the wheel. One of the senior agent's black-gloved hands was on the wheel. The other was between Skye's legs. That, more than anything else, had woken her. "Up and at 'em," May said, her voice as bright as it ever got. "We're almost here." "Almost... almost..." Skye squeezed her thighs shut on May's hand as she came for what felt like the hundredth time, her well-used body registering pain with the pleasure—it actually hurt to feel this good. Though tears gathered in her eyes, she didn't let them fall. She wouldn't disappoint May by appearing ungracious. "Good girl," May said simply as she wiped her hand on Skye's skirt. Once it was dry, she returned it to the wheel to guide them smoothly into a parking space. For the first time, Skye looked around. Everywhere there was blue sky and the orange terrain of the desert. They were in a suburban neighborhood, but there were no signs of life. In the distance, she could see several houses under construction, or lots that were simply vacant. "A new subdivision?" she asked. May nodded. "Very good." She got out of the car, and some instinct kept Skye in her seat as May circled around, opened her door for her, and simply scooped Skye up in her arms like a husband about to carry his bride over the threshold. Skye gently acquiesced to May's hold on her. It seemed unbelievable that she had gone from the mortification of earlier to this absolute comfort and security, draped across May's arms like a little kid, totally at ease. She wrapped her arms securely around May's neck as the woman effortlessly carried her to the front door of the house they'd parked at. May was actually able to temporarily hold Skye one-handed while she closed the car door and when she unlocked the house. Skye sighed in admiration of her lover—if that was what May was now. May did not let Skye down once they were inside, instead carrying her up the stairs. Skye didn't mind. She enjoyed looking around at what had to be a little piece of May, even if it were only a bolt-hole or safe house. It was as spartan as she would've expected, but there were little mementos strewn around—meaningless to Skye, but obviously something to May. She wondered if the Captain America action figure on one of the shelves had been a gift from Coulson. Again holding Skye in one arm, May let them into the room at the top of the stairs. It was a cozy room of minimalist furniture, dominated by a great round bed. Only one other door, which was open, allowing Skye to see it led to a small bathroom. That was all Skye could make out before she was deposited on the bed. Again, she knew to hold herself still as May undressed her, working her out of her boots and clothes until she was bare naked. And then, May simply pulled out the sheets and drew them up to Skye's chin, tucking her in most comfortably. A throb in Skye's groin had her asking "Aren't we going to... you know?" May shook her head, and actually gave Skye a fond smile that had the hacker feel like she was walking on clouds. "You've had enough. In the morning, maybe. For now, I want you to sleep and get your strength up." "May, is this your home?" May bent to kiss Skye on the temple—the first time her lips had touched Skye's body. "No more questions. You're in for a long day tomorrow. You'll need your strength." "Okay..." Skye said sleepily, then segued into a yawn. She really was tired. But as she snuggled into her pillow, something bothered her. Something wasn't quite right. She realized what it was upon waking. It was the manacles ringing the bed. The ones now around her wrists. *** "May! May!" Skye called, thrashing around. After a few minutes of trying her bonds, she'd concluded they were inescapable. Her only hope was to get May to unlock her. She worked her body as hard as she could, making the mattress groan and creak until May strutted into the room, holding a breakfast smoothie in either hand. Agents of SHIELD: The Mentorship "Oh, good, you're up." May set the drinks down on a dresser. "You're a late sleeper, Skye. We'll have to work on that." "May, what's going on? I didn't agree to this!" May's arms crossed. "I know you didn't. Consider it a test. You're naked, and you've been chained to a bed. Your feet are free. Lucky for you. Or not. If someone wants to part your legs, that could be taken as a bad sign." Skye bit her lip. "Please, May..." "Pretend I'm not even here. All you know is you've been taken captive. You're an agent of SHIELD. The benefit of the doubt does not exist for you. Assume hostile intent. Fortunately, you're being held without monitoring, at least none that you're aware of. But your captor could be back at any moment. What's your escape plan?" "I don't—I don't know—May, this isn't fair!" Skye felt her cheeks coloring as she realized she was exposed to May, her naked body totally visible in the harsh light of day. And May was watching. "What is your escape plan, agent!?" May barked. "I don't have a—HELP!" She cried suddenly. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" "Your captor has heard you." May banged her fist on the wall. "He's coming down the hall." "PLEASE, SOMEBODY, I NEED HELP!" "Sticking with that, then? Alright." May opened the door, and even though there was no one there, Skye felt even more exposed. Humiliated. If someone just walked by, they'd be able to see everything. "HELP!" Skye sobbed, tears coming now, rattling her voice. "PLEASE HELP ME!" "Your captor is in the room." May stalked toward the bed. "He's coming toward you." "DON'T HURT ME!" Skye pleaded, closing her eyes. She felt May pouncing onto the bed, the heat of her body and of her breath upon Skye. She opened her eyes slowly to see May staring into her, nose almost touching hers. "Pathetic," May drawled. "You yourself saw this was a new subdivision. No one's moved in yet except for me. It'll be weeks yet before the real estate agents even came by. There were easily fourteen ways out of that situation, thirty-two if you had made any preparations." "What preparations?" Skye sobbed. "I was with you! I thought you were—" "And if I were a double agent? An imposter? Under mind control? What then?" Skye felt May's leather-clad hand sliding up her leg. "You'd be at my mercy. Mine to do with as I please." "You've made your point, okay?" Skye sniffled, trying to get her crying under control. "Please stop." "Tell me, Skye—are you thirsty?" Tight-lipped, Skye nodded. "Hungry?" "Uh-huh." "Alright then." Getting up, May went back to the dresser and retrieved one of the smoothies. Once she'd returned, she held the straw up to Skye's mouth. "Drink." "Please uncuff me, I—I won't tell anyone what happened, I promise." "I said drink." Skye drank. It wasn't a milkshake or anything, but it tasted alright. A bit like liquid grapefruit. "That's your breakfast," May said. "Now, let me be blunt. You're a piss-poor agent. Coulson's been going easy on you, and you've taken that as permission to fail, repeatedly. That is unacceptable to me. In the field, when you let down me or another one of the team, you risk our lives. If you're not giving a hundred and ten percent, everyone on my team is in danger. So I can either replace you or I can make you an agent who's actually worth a damn." Skye stopped sucking on the straw. "You can't replace me! I—SHIELD is my home." "Stop crying. I find it a turn-on. So unless you want me to fuck you again—oh, that's right." May's eyebrow jumped. "You do." "Stop it!" she pleaded. "Drink your smoothie," May said. "You're right. I can't replace you. Coulson likes you. The thing is, Coulson helped a high-profile KGB asset defect from the Soviet Union. I myself have three black belts. Fitzsimmons have eight PhDs between them. Grant served two tours of duty in Iraq; he has the Presidential Medal of Freedom. What do you have, Skye? What have you done to earn a place on the team?" Skye took a deep breath. She had to be assertive. May would respect her assertiveness. "You can't just keep me here—" "Oh? Does anyone else know you're here? Or have you already told people that you're going on a long trip to find mommy?" May smiled darkly. "That's another thing to work on. Little Skye's mommy issues..." "Please..." "I suggest you finish your smoothie. It's all you're getting until lunch." Skye couldn't take it anymore. The thought of being chained-up until midday—"Why are you doing this?" "Because I'm giving you a choice. I can make you a SHIELD agent, Skye. Just last night, I found a very effective motivator. I can break you. Reshape you. Mold you. It'll be the hardest few weeks of your life, but I can get you to the point where you won't get yourself or your teammates killed out in the field. I said drink." Skye obediently wrapped her lips around the straw and followed instructions. "I want you to understand. You will be mine. I will use positive and negative reinforcement on you. Positive reinforcement will be like last night. I can make you come, Skye. I find it quite easy. And I was being soft with you back there. I have instruments here that can do things to you, you can't imagine. I know how to use them. I know what you like." The straw sucked empty. May took the smoothie away and set it on the floor. She sat on the bed like a sensitive mother having a talk with a moody teenage girl. "I'll also use negative reinforcement. Your punishments will be sexual in nature. I have eclectic tastes, Skye. I will use whichever of your holes I see fit, in whatever way brings me pleasure. Whether you enjoy this or not is tangential to me. You will definitely feel pain. This is not lovemaking. It is either punishment or reward. I have no feelings for you. I will not shy from hurting you, any more than I will from bringing you pleasure. It is whatever I deem best for continuing your training." "And I—uh—I can refuse?" Skye said, her breathing already coming in heavy. So much of what May said—the words themselves were frightening, they'd be terrifying coming from someone like Quinn, but from May? They had her breathing sharply, her sex burning, her body violently and unwillingly aroused. "What happens if I refuse?" "Then I unlock your bonds, return your clothes to you—I've had them washed—and drive you back to the Bus. I won't hold this against you. I won't mention it to anyone else. If you feel the need to tell someone about it, I won't even deny it. But I won't lie for you. You are a bad agent and a risk to this team. Whatever meager respect you've won from me will be destroyed by your refusal. I will speak to you about pertinent mission objectives, but otherwise, you'll be dead to me. I don't waste my time with shitty agents. In fact, I'll do everything in my power to get Coulson to replace you with a more suitable agent. Maybe after eight years at the Academy, you'll be at a satisfactory level to join the team." "Eight years!? You can't—" "I did," May said quietly. "Make your choice, Skye. Become my apprentice or leave. Whatever you decide, I suggest you stick to it. If you do decide to be trained by me, I'll be throwing you into the deep end. If you can't take it, better to quit now and spare yourself the embarrassment." Skye felt tears flowing. She hated it. Hated how helpless she was and how powerless she was. A fantasy ran through her mind of slipping these cuffs, grabbing May, and kissing her passionately. But she couldn't. She wasn't a real SHIELD agent. She was just Coulson's pet project. "Do you want to train me?" Skye asked, hating how her voice shook. May spoke evenly. "Yes, I do. I believe you can be a fine agent, but you'll never make it there if you keep allowing yourself to be coddled and spoiled." Skye forced herself to be brave. She'd done it before. It'd taken balls to join the team, but it'd brought her a family. She wouldn't lose that. No matter what it took. And she did—like the thought of being like May. Like she had with Rothman, that feeling of power she had being inventive and audacious and resourceful. She wanted to be like that all the time. An agent of SHIELD. "I'll do it," she said. "I'll do it!" May actually smiled, and Skye felt a sunray got through her. She'd actually done it. She'd made May happy. The woman got up and went back to the dresser, to drink her own smoothie. "Good. First order of business: this obsession with your mother." "I'm sorry, I never meant to annoy you with that—" May held up her hand, silencing Skye. "Coulson is looking into your origins. When he has something, he'll let you know. Do you believe he'd withhold information from you?" "No, but I can help—" "Your insistence on 'your real mommy' is a dangerous distraction. From this point onward, it's not allowed. To remind you of this, you'll refer to me as your mother. Privately, that is. In public, you may refer to me as Agent May. Show your understanding." "I... call you mom in private and Agent May around other people," Skye replied, still confused. "But that's—" "You were the one who wanted a mother. I'm giving you one. It's important for you to understand: I'm not a sadist, Skye. I won't punish you at random or for things that aren't your fault. Whenever you are disciplined, you'll understand why. So believe me when I say that not referring to me as your mother, or alternately Agent May, is a punishable offense. Am I clear?" "Yes... mommy." "Good girl." May took a drag on her smoothie. "Now, my belief is that the key thing holding you back from being a great SHIELD agent is a lack of consequences. Your bad behavior and insubordination in the past have been overlooked or dismissed. This is no longer the case. In fact, I'll be going a step further, and punishing you now for past infractions you skated on at the time." "What?" Skye had no idea what punishment entailed, but with May, she didn't want to find out. "But that's not fair!" "Life isn't fair. Surely you've been in enough shitty foster homes to notice." May finished off her smoothie, then took both it and Skye's to the waste bin. "Now then, I'll forgive your actions on the Mike Peterson case, as you weren't yet a SHIELD agent. Then your work in Malta was adequate. But then there's Hong Kong. And your collusion with Miles Lydon." "I said I was sorry!" popped out of Skye's mouth. She had no idea how it got there. "Yes. It still has to be dealt with. As well as the fiasco you perpetuated while Fitz and Ward were dealing with the Overkill Device." "I helped save their lives!" Skye protested. May gave her a look that could've made a grown man cry. "I should note that interruption is a punishable offense. Try it again and you will be disciplined. Now, it is true that by hacking into Level 8 files, Fitz and Ward were given help they may not otherwise have gotten. However, you were sloppy. You involved Agent Simmons and nearly got her kicked out of SHIELD along with yourself. If nothing else, I will punish you for the sheer incompetence with which you 'hacked'. That should be your area of expertise, should it not?" Skye kept her mouth shut. She was afraid of saying anything more. "Isn't it?" May pressed. "Yes!" "Yes, what?" Skye pinched her lips together for a moment. "Yes, mommy. Sorry, mommy." May's nostrils flared. "Such a willful child. And then there is the Tobias Ford case, in which again you showed willful insubordination. That's an offense. The Edison Po case, you were more concerned with your maternal issues than hunting down Centipede. And finally, there's your performance today, which has landed you chained up naked in the middle of nowhere. Am I missing anything?" Skye shook her head. "That's five demerits. So, fifty spanks." "S-spanks?" Skye wished she wouldn't stammer. "Yes, Skye. You've been acting like a child, so I'll be treating you like a child. Are you ready?" Skye squared her jaw. She'd committed to this. She wouldn't back down in the first ten minutes. She'd just—power through this and then never give May any reason to discipline her ever again. "Yes, I—yes." "Good. Relax your body." May took Skye's left foot and exercised her leg a little, pushing it back toward her body and extending it back out to limber Skye up, then repeating the process with her right leg. "I want you to know," May said evenly, "that it's perfectly acceptable for you to cry or scream. I won't think any less of you. Not yet, at any rate. And seeing as you agreed so readily to your training, I'm in a generous mood. As long as you take your spanking like a good little girl, I'll grant you a merit." Skye nodded her head shakily, already embarrassed—mortified. She hoped May would say this was all a joke, a game, but she was right. May was right about everything. She was a bad agent. It was a wonder she hadn't gotten anyone killed. If May thought that being spanked would make her a good agent, even a little... God, why did she have to be so turned on by this? May was trying to help her be a real agent and here she was, becoming aroused. What kind of filthy bitch was she? May went to the head of the bed and dragged up two manacles from where they were embedded and coiled on the side of the bedframe. She set the clasps by Skye's shoulders. Then she took Skye's legs and maneuvered them up, up, up until Skye was bent in two like she was going a yoga pose. Still on her back with her arms chained, May chained Skye's feet to the area of the bed beside Skye's head, keeping her doubled over with her ass on display. Skye tried not to think of how embarrassingly exposed she was. It was worse than just being naked and tied up. Now her cooch was practically being shoved in the face of anyone downwind of her. May walked softly around the circular bed, staring at the very sight Skye was so ashamed of. She nearly whistled in appreciation, reaching out to run a finger over those two perfect cheeks. Automatically, Skye wiggled and struggled, though she clamped down on the squeal of protest that rose in her throat. "Be a good girl," May said warningly. "Take your punishment like a good girl or it'll be worse." Skye nodded frantically, just wanting it over with. And before she knew it, May had delivered three stiff blows to her bare ass, making it bloom in pain. Skye moaned gently, but hurt, taking a deep breath to gird herself for more. May didn't give her the chance. In mid-breath she cut Skye off, smacking her ass again and again. Skye kicked and jerked her legs, cursing painfully, her scissoring legs giving May a glimpse of her pussy that embarrassed her even further. Noticing her discomfort, May dragged Skye's hips down and forced her head back, getting a better look between her legs. Skye hummed in embarrassment, her lips tightly shut, her eyes bleeding tears. May gave her a second more to squirm, then went at the other cheek, spanking it a good five times before stopping abruptly to softly stroke the reddened cheek. "Ready to say you're sorry?" Skye sobbed out in relief before being able to speak. "I'm sorry, mommy!" "For?" "For everything! I'm sorry I'm such a bad agent! I'm sorry I made such a mess of everything!" Again, May softly rubbed at Skye's sore bottom, bringing sweet relief. "Do you think I'm enjoying this? More than anything, I want to slide this hand between those thighs of yours. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" "Yes, mommy." "But you haven't earned that. And you haven't learned your lesson. We still have thirty-eight to go. Now, I don't think you like making all the noise you've been making. I think it embarrasses you. Would you like me to gag you, so you don't make any noise no matter how much it hurts?" Tears were brimming in Skye's eyes, but her voice was steady. "Yes, mommy. Please." "Alright, dear." May reached between Skye's trussed legs, down to her mouth, clamping her hand over it. "Just thirty-eight more. You're doing great so far. You're being a very good girl." Skye's teary eyes shone up at May. It was almost painful when they closed with the first touch of May's free hand to her ass. Skye squealed into May's hand, her body jerked and writhed, her pussy actually slamming against the arm May had holding her mouth shut. The first time, May supposed it was an accident. But soon, the rubbing became too steady and too fast for May to believe it wasn't deliberate. "Getting off on this, aren't you?" she asked with a wicked half-smile. "That's okay. It's one way to deal with pain. Let's see if you can come from me spanking you." And with that, May slapped harder than ever, physically assaulting Skye's ass. The girl sobbed, tears wetting the sheets under her head as she jerked and ground herself against May's arm. It was then that May felt a series of grunts, low and fast, explode against the hand covering Skye's mouth. "Coming already?" May observed, pausing again to muss up Skye's hair. Skye was breathing hard, her exhales hitting May's hand like the exhaust from an engine. "You really are quite the whore, aren't you?" Skye whimpered in shame. She was a pale girl. Spent more time behind a computer than on the beach. Her skin reddened quickly, which May appreciated. She didn't let up now, on the home stretch. Sometimes she smacked the same two or three times just to feel Skye's pained cries against her hand. Eventually, Skye stopped tensing at every smack, lost in her pain. The choked grunts she had been releasing with each hit turned into sobs. "That's it," May cooed. "Let it out. It'll get worse before it gets better." Skye kept crying for the next five minutes that May doled out her punishment, jerking around like a puppet with tangled strings as the pain grew and grew. At the end, her ass was a uniform red in color, which pleased the anal-retentive in May. Her tears continued, satisfying May. It was good for her to get them all out. The older woman could've been much harsher, using a hairbrush or paddle, even her own belt, as she'd commonly fantasized about. But she didn't want to torture Skye, just discipline her. After fluffing a pillow, May set it under Skye's ass, letting her relax and calm down relatively painlessly. She took out a tissue and very gently wiped the tears from Skye's face. Skye continued to hyperventilate, but there was an enjoyable aspect to it, like someone screaming as they rid a roller coaster. May put the tissue before Skye's nose. "Blow." Skye did, then unabashedly let May wipe her nose and throw the wadded-up tissue away. She could barely talk. Couldn't say how much it meant to her to have May clean her up. "It's not quite resisting torture," May said, "but it's a start. Now, let's have something light for your first lesson. A SHIELD agent should speak at least four languages, so I'm going to start you off with a Russian language tape. When I get back, I want you to be able to have a three-sentence conversation in Russian with me. Failure will earn another demerit, so don't slack off." Skye shook her head, inwardly promising not to. May took a pair of headphones from the nightstand and set them neatly on Skye's head, then pressed play on the iPod that lay beside the bed. Though Skye paid close attention to the first few English words introducing the lesson, she paid more attention to May as she walked out of the room. Agents of the Cardinal Ep. 01 Agents of the Cardinal - Episode 1 How to meet a musketeer Louise was waiting for her opponent. The blonde girl was wearing a short black latex dress with a nice cleavage, short black latex gloves and knee high black leather boots. Her left hand was on the pommel of her rapier while her right one held a cigarette. The jardins du Luxembourg were not crowded at this hour, just one hour before sunset and her opponent had told her that end of the jardins was not usually patrolled by Cardinal's guards, so they could settle their matter by dueling without being disturbed. Louise heard footsteps coming closer. Angélique was coming with her witness. Wearing a white shirt, dark leather corset and wetlook leggings, Angélique was a medium sized girl with small breasts. Her long dark hair was free and her green eyes looked like they wanted some excitement. Beside her was a tall man with blonde hair, dressed in brown leather jacket and pants. The musketeers' uniform. Angélique presented the man as being François de Poncy, a member of the King's musketeer regiment and fine swordsman. He agreed to be witness to Angélique in the matter of her duel with Louise. "Nice to meet you, monsieur," said Louise. "I'm sorry that I didn't bring a witness, and am new here so I didn't know anyone. I hope it does not bother you." Acting as referee François asked each girl if she still wanted to have that duel then explained the rules for the duel : the one to draw first blood, wins, one can ask to stop at any moment, each girl knew that first -blood could still be deadly. "Now take your positions mesdemoiselles." Louise stepped away and turned to face Angélique, as she unsheathed her rapier. They saluted each other with their blades. "En garde!" said François. Louise took stance, ready to let Angélique attack first, which she did rather quickly. Louise parried her blade then tried a slash to make her opponent move back before doing a simple lunge, aiming for her stomach. Angélique wasn't an amateur and dodged the blade easily. The fight was proving to be a challenge and was starting to get interesting; Louise thought. "What is that? Isn't it some kind of duel?" Both women stopped their attacks and look at the people coming towards them. Five Cardinal's guards, dressed in black latex catsuits and black leather thigh boots. A redheaded girl with big breasts was leading the group. Louise knew her as Bianca, one of the most dangerous guards. "Given that you're with one of those pretentious musketeers I guess you're perfectly aware that duels are forbidden in Paris and in the whole kingdom. So I'll ask to you to give us your blades and follow us to be put in detention. But if you choose to resist us..." She taps the pommel of her rapier with her left hand, showing perfectly what was going to happen in the event that they decided not to cooperate. Louise noticed the look that Angélique and François shared, trying to decide if they should continue their fight. She decided to give them some help in making their decision. "I'm ready to teach to your boys how to properly use their swords, milady." She said to Bianca. Louise heard François unsheathing his blade and said "We'll stand our ground as any musketeers do when facing the Cardinal's dogs and bitches". The five guards unsheathed their rapiers and the fight begin. Louise was facing a short girl with brown hair and a medium sized blonde haired guy, both looking eager to put their blade in through her chest. The man's excitement was already visible thru his latex catsuit. Angélique was against Bianca, while François fought the last two guys. Louise decided to eliminate her opponents and reduce them to a single one quickly, then play with the remaining one while waiting to see how things go with the other fights. The girl was the first to make a mistake and she cried out in pain as Louise's blade run her thru heart without mercy. The woman removed her rapier quickly enough to parry the one of the man who seemed upset that his female companion had been killed. Then Louise begins to play with her opponent. She let him try a few attacks, emphasizing her own parry as it was proving to be difficult to fight against him. Then she decided to show who was in charge of the fight as she hit him, lightly, on then thigh. As the fight continued the man seemed less and less excited and more and more angry. Louise kept an eye on what was happening in the other duels. François had killed one of his opponents and seemed in good position against the last one. As for Angélique it looked more difficult. Louise didn't hear exactly what the girl and Bianca were talking about while fighting but it seemed there was some personal matter between the two women. Louise decided to hit her opponent a second time, this time on the shoulder of his free hand. She allowed herself to laugh lightly, saying "seems you guards don't really know how to properly use a rapier". Fate decide to show that it was possible for a guard to know something about fencing as Bianca succeed in disarming Angélique. Before the girl could ask for any mercy the redheaded guard lunged forward and ran her sword thru Angélique's heart. The duelist placed both hands to the wound as she cried mainly in pain but Louise thought that there was some pleasure in it too. As for Bianca there was no doubt that her face showed pleasure as she twisted her blade before removing it. Her smiles was one of a girl whose pussy was wet. Angélique tried to step sideways as if leaving could still save her life, then reality won as she falls on her knee then eventually face on the ground. Bianca takes a look at the two other duels were left to decide who she was going to help. Louise settled the matter for her as she put an end to her game with the man she was fighting, running him thru the stomach, a deadly wound that would take some time to kill him but still deadly nonetheless. After having removed her blade from the body of the dying guard Louise saluted Bianca with her rapier and takes stance, ready to fight and to win or to die. Once again Louise let her opponent attack first. With the first guard it wasn't really dangerous but with Bianca that kind of play could cost her her life, but she liked a challenge, it made winning more much exciting. Bianca tried a hard thrust that Louise parried just inches away from her chest. Then the guard tried to lure her in with a false attack before spinning their wrist and lunging, aiming for her heart. Louise succeeded in parrying it, blade sliding against blade, until the two women were locked one against the other, guard against guard. "I like to fight bitches like you," said Louise, "It makes me so wet." Then she tries to kiss Bianca. The guard reacted and kissed back, Louise could also feel the free hand of the guard rubbing her crotch thru the latex of her dress. "It seems you're right about being wet like a bitch," replied Bianca, "But I can't ask you to be decent when I'm ready to cum while I kill you." Smiling Louise broke contact and tried an attack of her own, testing the skill of Bianca as she found herself pleased to see that her opponent was a worthy one. When she heard François finishing his last opponent she knew it was time to end Bianca's winning record. As the redhead tried to strike back after a thrust by Louise, the duelist put one knee on the ground, letting her opponent's blade pass just over her head, and lunge. The tip of her blade pierced the latex of Bianca's catsuit just under her left breast and penetrated her breast, ran her thru and came out her back. Louise could see surprise and pleasure on the guard's face. She felt really excited and when she twisted her blade and removed it she released a small cry of pleasure, unheard as Bianca came at the same moment, her free hand on the breast that Louise just removed her blade from, the other hand still holding her rapier. "You're such... a fucking good... fencer, bitch. Too bad... I didn't... fuck you... before you killed me." Then Bianca falls, eyes closed and a smile on her face. Louise saluted her with her blade before sheathing it. "It's sad for Angélique," said a voice behind her, "but I'm really glad you could make it. And with some style." "You're welcome monsieur." said the young woman as she turned to face François. "On your side you seemed to have no problem dealing with your opponents. I guess that's to be expected from a musketeer." She takes a step toward the swordsman. "Well there was only one fencer worthy of a duel in that group and killed her, mademoiselle. Bianca having killed Angélique before I guess it settled the matter between you two." "We could say so. Now I'm wondering..." begins Louise. "Wondering what?" "If you could help me." "Help? But you seem in a perfect condition and I see no more enemies around you, I mean living ones." Louise closed the gap between her and François, and takes his hand with her own, leading it under her latex dress, to her pussy. "I've some wetness that needs to be taken care of, could you do something monsieur le mousquetaire?" A smile spread on François' face as he closed in to kiss Louise. "At least I can try." *** Louise entered her room, a small place suitable for a girl newly arrived in a big city, the kind where you'll stay while waiting to find a proper place and job. She removed the belt holding her rapier and put it on a nail on the wall. "I know you're there, you can show yourself." As she turned to look toward her bed a man come out of the shadows. Tall and thin, wearing black leather pants, light brown leather jacket, knee high brown leather boots and black latex gloves. Jacques Tallandier, the Cardinal's master spy himself. "So, how did it happen?" "As you suggested I defy Angélique and indeed she came with a musketeer, a François de Poncy, as a witness. The duel was a first-blood one and I was planning to do a first blood-last breath one to the girl when some guards interrupted us." Tallandier raised an eyebrow. "Who was leading?" "Bianca." "She's a very skilled one." "She was. She disarmed and killed Angélique, seems there was something between them. It was a real pleasure to fight and kill that one." "And the musketeer?" "He made it through, wasn't too sad to have lost the girl and now seems quite pleased to have a new fuck mate one able to kill people like Bianca." "So you just need to continue that way." "And for the guards?" "Your only concern is to succeed in your mission, kill as many guards as necessary for it, and don't tell me it really bothers you." Louise just answers by smiling. That spy really knew people. He moved back into the shadows and Louise and was almost instantly out of her room. Now she needed to find a way to further gain the trust of François and some of other musketeers. She was sure there was a way involving some dueling and running a sword through some hearts. Agents of the Cardinal Ep. 02 The way to handle stupid people Le fleur de chardon wasn't a big tavern but it was a lovely place to have a drink with some friends. Louise was in company of François de Poncy and three others musketeers. It was almost two weeks since Louise met François and she was beginning to wonder if there wasn't a way to earn some trust. The musketeer had presented the duellist to some of his colleague and they all seemed interested in her duel against Bianca. "Congratulations on your victory mademoiselle", said Arnaud de Nemous, a rather small man with long dark hair. The woman besides him, as tall as him and with very long red hair, added : "And that guard, Bianca, was really a dangerous opponent. That poor Angélique wasn't her first victim." "She is, I mean she was known to have fight and killed at least three musketeers" said the other woman, a named Alexandra de Mirecourt, while she passed her hand in her short hair dark as a raven. You would be more precise by saying eight musketeers killed, thought Louise. But as she wasn't supposed to have access to files from the Garde, she kept her thought to her. Finally, an occasion came to help her in her mission. "It seems that now musketeers can be excited by some fencing rookie." It was told just loud enough to be heard from the musketeer's table. François and his colleagues turned immediately to see who just insulted them. At the next table sat a tall dark haired man with two female companions. By the way they surrounded him, Louise guessed that the trio was lovers. "I think you're trying to insult us, monsieur, and I don't really like that. I think you'll need us an apology." said Arnaud, with an hand already on the hilt of his rapier. The man from the next table was smiling. Louise decided to call him Wannabe, as he was wearing a dark blue catsuit, almost as black as a guard's uniform. His girlfriends would then be Maid and Nurse, given their latex uniforms. "Just name a time and a place and I'm your man", answered Wannabe. Before Arnaud could add anything, Louise had stood up. "I think I'm the one in need of apology here. I'm the one whose fencing skill you're doubting after all." Both men looked at each other before agreeing she had her word in this. "So mademoiselle, do you have a witness to organise our 'meeting'?" asked Wannabe. Louise caught its eyes taking a look at her wetlook leggings. You think it'll be an easy fight? She let him have his full share of looking before answering. "Well, I was thinking of something else, something we could do here and now, if we're allowed to practice some fencing in the room?" She took a look at the musketeers. Besides them and Wannabe and his girls there were no customers. The evening was already becoming night and the usual patrons had already gone home. François nodded at her, looking curious, like the rest of the audience. Ok, let's see if that guy rise to the bait. "I propose a small challenge monsieur. We're going to have some fencing here and if you succeed to hit or disarm me once before I do thrice then you'll prove that I'm not such a good fencer and can continue to say whatever you want about me." Wannabe raised an eyebrow. "And if you touch me thrice?" "Then I'll hear no more of you, monsieur." answered the blonde duellist. She saw Wannabe thinking about it for a second. The challenge looked easier for him and perhaps he would say no, but she couldn't resist trying something like that. Come on guy, don't disappoint me. "I'm ok with your idea, mademoiselle. You want to do it now?" "Yes, here and now." Louise moved away from the tables and unsheathed her rapier, taking position. Wannabe gave a kiss to both girls, then faced Louise and took his blade. "En garde, monsieur!" Louise attacked the first, trying something not too easy, but not really difficult, just to evaluate her opponent. The man parried with his blade then slashed at Louise's thigh. The young women just dodged it and stepped back. Ok, you know fencing 101. At their table, the musketeers gave an interested eyes to the move of the blades. Nurse and Maid seemed less interested by the art of fencing than by the way their man moved. Louise parried some attacks by Wannabe but eventually she dodged his blade and lunged to his left shoulder. The tip of her blade pierced lightly into the latex catsuit of the swordsman and a few drops of blood came out from the wound. Louise stepped back. "That's one for me, monsieur." said the duellist. The man looked quite disturbed by the hitting. Louise's moves had been really fast for a few seconds. The musketeers seemed to appreciate the action, Wannabe's girlfriends not really. Louise's opponent took back stance and attacked first this time. He tried a couple of attacks before Louise regained control of the exchange. Her blade missed his hand by an inch before he riposted. This time Louise parried the blade and she did a short thrust that hit his right thigh, dropping a little blood again. "Now that's twice for me, monsieur." Now Wannabe looked angry. Nurse and Maid had stopped smiling at all and looked doubtful about the duel. Faces looked more happy on the musketeers' side. Nice but that's not enough to give a really interesting impression. Again, the blonde duellist attacked first. This time, her opponent put everything he had in it and Louise had to step back a little. It finally became serious for you, didn't it boy? She managed quite easily to block or to dodge his thrusts. Now, let's see what you have in mind. She gave him an opportunity to hit her, lightly, just the same kind she did to him. And Wannabe ignored it. To be sure she did it again twice. Each time the guy could have hit her, made her drop a little blood and won the fight. And each time he didn't rise to the bait. Once it could have been possible that the man didn't notice the opportunity. Thrice it meant he didn't want it. Ok, now see what's really on your mind. This time, Louise left an opening in her guard that could be used to lunge at her chest. Wannabe immediately lunged forward and the duellist barely dodged it by turning sideways. So, you don't just want to win that challenge, you're after a killing blow, you dirty guy. Louise knew that every skilled fencer in the audience would have understood it. Time to put an end to this. The blonde duellist suddenly accelerated her attacks, forcing her opponent to step back, again, and again, until he finally found himself back against a wall. The man suddenly seemed to realise what was going to happen but it was too late, Louise had pushed his blade aside, centred her own and was already lunging. The tip of her blade pierced the latex catsuit of the man on the left side of his chest, entered his flesh, ran thru his heart, and came off of his back to pin him on the wall. "And thrice for me, monsieur." The look of surprise and pain on her opponent's face was a real teaser for her. Not the way you excepted it to end, monsieur. Louise felt her crotch wetness against her wetlook legging's inside. "As I said, I'll hear no more of you." She removed her blade from the man's chest, and watched him slide down against the wall, his two hands on his chest as if it would prevent his life to leave him. "Bitch!" Louise turned just in time to see Maid trying to unsheathe her blade. But Nurse prevented her from doing so. "No Elodie, don't do this. Pierre accepted the challenge and all went in a regularly way, you need to respect that." Elodie, as it seemed it was Maid's name, hesitated for a second, while Louise cleaned blood from her blade with a handkerchief. Then she finally released the hilt of her rapier. Tears were rolling on her cheeks. "But she murdered him, Jeanne, she's a murderous whore." said Elodie in a small voice. Jeanne, the nurse girl, tried to comfort her friend. The musketeers advised Louise not to stay too long, as some guards could come in at any moment now. The duellist saluted them quickly, put on her black leather jacket and left the tavern while lighting a cigarette. *** On her way back home Louise thought about the fighting. She was quite arrogant in the challenge she proposed to the man, she gave him opportunities to end it without killing, she showed how far better she was than her opponent before finally finishing him. The musketeers looked like they enjoyed the fight and appreciated her skill. But it wasn't the big opportunity she was waiting for. You can't fight Cardinal's guards every time. At least it was already some good point taken. A silhouette came from the shadows. A girl with long strawberry blonde hair, wearing a simple black latex maid outfit with thigh high boots. The crying one named Elodie. She had her rapier at hand, ready to fight. "En garde bitch! You're going to pay for your murder!" Louise barely had time to unsheathe her blade to parry the attack of the swordswoman. Her opponent was attacking fast but she wasn't skilled enough to be a real danger to the duellist. "I'm going to kill you, fucking slut, I'll make you beg for mercy before finishing you!" Elodie spent as much energy in insult than in fighting. Louise dodged a new attack from the maid before striking back. Quickly she forced the girl to step back. "Your man was an idiot. He had opportunities to hit me without danger and he didn't take them, all he wants was a killing thrust. If he wasn't that arrogant he would still be alive, so don't complain to me for his stupidity." Louise had the feeling that her opponent didn't really listen to her. The maid continued to insult her without paying attention to what the swordswoman answered back. Her attacks were already slowing and she was more on a defensive mode, as if waiting for something. She didn't look focused on her fencing, her eyes were as if looking behind Louise. Louise suddenly moved to her right, just in time to avoid Jeanne's blade. The girl in nurse outfit had waited silently in the shadows that her friend attacked Louise and focused her attention, then she has sneaked behind her to kill her. Not a bad plan. Louise was not just skilled, she was lucky too, as every great duellist needs to be. There was a small moment of uncertainty for the swordsgirls as Jeanne's trick failed. Louise used one of her secret thrust : she pushed Elodie's blade aside, and did a fleche. Her blade hit the maid in the throat. That way, you'll stop insulting me. The woman dropped her rapier and put both hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding which was filling her lungs and killing her. Louise focused on her remaining opponent, the one named Jeanne that she continued to call Nurse in her mind. She seems to be the clever of the two girls. The two swordsgirls crossed blades for about a minute, giving time to Louise to see that Jeanne's was also the most skilled of Pierre's girlfriends. "Too bad for you Elodie wasn't as skilled and disciplined as you. If she hadn't looked for you as she fought you would have succeeded into killing me." The swordswoman in nurse uniform tried to fight back, but she couldn't force Louise to step back. "My fencing master gave me a few important advice, and "stay disciplined" was one of the most important." Time to end this. Using one of her preferred thrust Louise disarmed her opponent then pointed her blade to Jeanne's throat. "His arrogance costed his life to your man and her thirst of vengeance costed the life of your friend." Jeanne's stood still. Louise closed in to her, blade still pointed at her throat. "You're such a gorgeous girl, it would be a shame to not taste you." Louise kissed Jeanne's lips. The swordswoman hesitated for a second and eventually opened her lips and let her tongue play with Louise's one. The blonde duellist caressed her opponent's back with her free hand, the other one still holding her rapier. Then Louise whispered into Jeanne's ear. "And here's one of the most important advice of my master." Still holding the nurse's back with her free hand, Louise pushed her rapier into her left breast, running her thru chest. "Never spare an opponent you can kill." Jeanne cried of pain, but in her voice Louise also heard a little pleasure. She gave a last kiss to Jeanne then removed her blade. The nurse had her hands on each her breast, the left one could look like trying to hold her life, but the right one was really on the breast as if arousing herself. Louise saluted the dying girl with her rapier, and while she cleaned the blade Jeanne finally gave her last breath and felt to the ground. The swordswoman sheathed her weapon and turned to another part of the street in shadows. "You can come out of there now, monsieur." The silhouette of Arnaud de Nemours came into the moonlight while Louise, who'd thrown her cigarette at the beginning of the duel, lighted a new one. "You knew I was there milady?" The musketeer raised an eyebrow. "I'm the one who should ask you why you didn't come to help me. Aren't musketeers the kind to help a young woman ambushed?" Louise blew some smoke to his face. "I suppose I should have. But I had the feeling you didn't really needed my help, mademoiselle. Your presentation at the tavern, with that swordsguy, was interesting, but that ambush was really something else. I think now I understand why François spoke so highly of you." Louise closed to the musketeer and put an hand on his side, then closed her lips to his own. While they kissed she put her other hand to Arnaud's crotch and felt his excitement thru his leather pants. "If you want I can show the other reasons he speaks that way of me, monsieur." "It would be a pleasure, milady", answered Arnaud as he put a hand on her bottom. Agents "What. Did. You. Do?" Sarah looked at the panicked and angry girl and was unafraid. "Many things. For example, this..." A few seconds went by, and nothing happened, Sarah had a brief flash of hope, and lifted her arm to strike the other girl as hard as she could in the face. The second the intention was fully formed, when her arm should have whipped forwards to strike Melissa in the face, the opposite happened instead. Her perception of this raven-haired girl who had just raped her mind changed in an instant, the anger metamorphosing inexplicably into a deep and immediate attraction. Her breathing became heavy, her eyes dilated, and her strength abandoned her. Melissa looked on, a small smile at the corners of her lips. "Poor darling. Violence towards others will forever trigger feelings of love, devotion..." Sarah was confused, her head reeling from the sudden change in her emotions, unable to understand what was going on in her head. Melissa's hand reached up ever so gently to her chest, soft fingers caressing gently over the skin and then over the nipple, and Sarah's world turned once again into a blurry haze of arousal. "... and lust." Fingers pinched a nipple, warmth spread to her lower belly, and her legs shook briefly before she sank to her knees, moaning, her right arm still hanging back, as though ready to strike. Melissa broke the contact with her breast, leaving her aroused and unsatisfied, and it took a few long moments before the pleasure abated, leaving frustration in its wake, allowing her thoughts to begin to clear. The last words she heard were, "Have a pleasurable life," and then the sound of a door slamming, and she was alone in her home, sprawled on the ground in her bedroom, her thighs soaked with her own juices.