January Story 1-The Price of Doing Business (Patreon)

So, I am really happy with the way this one turned out. I thought this would just be a one off but I really like these characters. 

On the update side, this bad throat isn't going away, in fact it's getting worse so I'm going to see the doctor. Will keep you updated. I don't want to continue promising audios I can't deliver. 

Meeting a client in person has its pros and cons. Pros can be getting to know more about said client because information is priceless in this business. Cons are; they know what you look like and you are more exposed. Wet work was a nasty business and being an assassin wasn’t as glamourous as the movies made it look. There were much less encounters with seductively dangerous boys and much more camping out in cheap motels waiting for your target to make a move. Every now and then though there was a client who liked the dramatics.

This client was a named Aleksandra Bolovna. She was a high ranking crime boss who had climbed her way up to second in the Russian mob underneath her cousin. She had invited Valentina to a strip club to discuss the removal of her competition.

Valentina spotted her waiting in one of the booths stroking the arse of one of the serving boys who was just standing there with a smile on his face that (to a women of Valentina’s intelligence) was obviously insincere.

As soon as Aleksandra spotted her she waved her over. “Pretty one,” said Aleksandra, addressing the boy. “Do go and fetch us two glasses of the bar’s finest whiskey.”

She punctuated the order with a slap on the boy’s arse before turning to Valentia and switching from English to Russian. “I never was one for Vodka.”

Sighing would have been unprofessional so Valentina just said, “May I ask why we are meeting here?”

“Well, we are conducting very delicate business. It is impossible to record anything in this club with the dampeners in place to protect the boy’s modesty,” the eye roll illustrated exactly what she thought of that policy. “And I highly doubt these American sluts have heard a single word of Russian in their lives. It is the perfect place for us to talk.”

The boy chose that moment to come back with the whiskeys, placing them elegantly on the table, “Besides,” Aleksandra continued, eyeing the boy as she picked up her drink. “It is nice to have something pretty to look at to offset the unpleasantness of the topic.”

The boy’s head swiveled between Aleksandra and Valentina, looking pathetically confused, “I-I’m sorry. I don’t speak Russian. Is there anything else I can get you?”

Aleksandra turned to the assassin with an ‘I told you so’ look before turning back to the boy and saying in English, “Yes, pretty one. In fact you can get on this table and dance for us while we discuss our boring business.”

Every booth in the club had a poll through the center that reached up to the ceiling. Valentina fought the urge to roll her eyes again. When she had complained silently that her job was boring she wasn’t angling for it to turn into a cheesy spy movie either. She liked to get her jobs, do her jobs, collect her money, and then go home. Don’t get her wrong, the boy was beautiful. He had wavy, brown hair that was neither long nor short, and fell into his bright green eyes. It served to highlight them rather than hide them and it was clear he knew how to tilt his head just right to make himself look as comely as possible. His body was lean and toned, especially his arse, the firmness of which was only enhanced by the tight blue short he was wearing. He caught Valentina’s eye and gave her a charming but still insincere smile, before hoping onto the table and starting his routine.

“Now,” Aleksandra continued in her native language. “I have said that I want my cousin out of the way but a simple assassination won’t cut it.”

Maybe this mobster was smarter that she looked, “No, that would bring the whole organisation down on your back looking for revenge,” said the assassin.

“Precisely. I want her loyal lieutenants picked off one by one. Some may look like accidents, some may look like the work of other crime families. Whatever it is, it needs to be slow and bring upon me as little suspicion as possible while I finish consolidating my power. Once it is obvious that I am able to take the throne from her by force she will have no choice but to step down or engage in a battle she can’t possibly win.”

It was an impressive plan born of a true politician, because that is all mobsters were when it came down to it, business women and politicians who were just born on the other side of the law.

Then Valentina saw it. The thing that would make this job infinitely more interesting and profitable. Aleksandra didn’t see it. Perhaps the boy himself didn’t see it but it was there. The almost imperceptible tilt of the head, the angle of the body, the tension upon certain words being spoken … the boy, for all he claimed otherwise understood Russian and was listening.

Valentina had two choices, she could point this out to Aleksandra then and there and lose out on the job, also possibly condemning the boy to death or she could wait and play things her own way. As usual Valentina decided to do things her own way.

Once business was concluded and the deal was shook upon she said, “If you don’t mind I’d like to stick around a while, this place is growing on me.”

Aleksandra gave a quick look to the, still dancing boy before shooting a knowing eye towards the assassin. “Oh please,” she said, throwing a few fifties onto the table. “Enjoy yourself on me. I look forward to concluding our business.”

“As do I.”

Valentina continued watching the dancing for around half a minute when her client left before saying, “I assume this place has private rooms.”

“Yes ma’am,” replied the boy leaning against the poll seductively. “Would you like a private dance?”

“Oh, very much so,” she replied with a vicious smile.

It seemed the boy was smart enough to know something was up because his eye twitched slightly. It was close to fear but he was clearly too controlled to show anything more than that.

‘Interesting,’ she thought. ‘So this probably isn’t just a nosey kid who happens to speak Russian and is just stupid enough to get himself into real trouble. There is something more here.’

The walk to the private room was full of tension. As soon as the door closed Valentina thought about speaking right away but instead decided to play with her food. She sat in the chair of the dimly lit room and waited expectantly for him to start performing. He did so beautifully, swinging hips and running her hands down his toned chest as the music guided his every move.

Valentina rested her cheek on one fist while the other hand rested on a hidden knife in her trousers. As the boy got closer the grip on the knife got tighter, as one of his knees lifted up to rest beside her thigh the knife came out of the sheath, and when he was fully straddling her she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and held the knife to his throat hissing, “начинай говорить, красавчик.” Start talking, pretty one.

The assassin saw a small swallow go down the boy’s throat and if the knife had been any closer it would have probably penetrated the skin with that movement. She expected him to panic or even start crying and begging for his life in hopes that his pretty words and pretty face would evoke sympathy. He did none of those things. Instead he said, “Nathaniel Jones, FBI. You lay a hand on me and you’ll have the entire bureau after you. I know how good you are Valentina Romanova … and that is why I know that even youare not that good.”

Valentina was not too proud to admit that she was stunned for a moment. This had been far from what she was expecting. Firstly, the nerves of steel on this guy … goddess. Secondly, she was quite insulted that he thought she couldn’t outrun American law enforcement no matter how high up they were. She most certainly could but that wasn’t an argument she was going to make right now. Though, whether or not she could run from them was irrelevant. It was more trouble than she needed.

“So I see we are at an impasse,” she said. “I won’t get rid of you because it’s too much trouble but as soon as I let you go you are going to take that sweet arse of your back to your bosses and tattle on me, making my job harder. So what are we going to do?”

She said the last sentence in a sing-song tone to emphasize just how little she was worried about the situation. Still, she wasn’t the only one keeping her cool. The cocky little son of bitch had even settled himself in her lap rather than holding himself rigid. “Let me propose something to you,” she said, moving one hand from the nape of his neck, down his chest to grab his delicate balls. “I know you are not here with back up. This is a long term undercover operation. Believe me I know what each looks like. Plus, if this was planned surveillance of our meeting I would have had five officers on me as soon as I tried to take you out of their line of vision, or at the very least they should have been here by now. So I am in no danger of being arrested.

“Also, far from your involvement being an inconvenience to me it is actually an opportunity. All I have to do is call my client and tell her that the ‘brainless American slut’ she was so unconcerned about was a Fed. I will just act a bit annoyed and call the job off on the grounds that the parameters have changed. She will panic for fear of people finding out and I can demand double the price. Plus,” she continued, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I like a bit of a challenge.”

His brows furrowed in impatience, “So what is your proposal?”

She chuckled a little and squeezed his balls tighter, eliciting a slight groan from him. Good that is what she wanted to hear. “You have done me a disservice of getting me all hot and bothered with your little ploy. So either, I knock you out a make a run for it or, you have the common courtesy to take care of it. In exchange for this, any contact the FBI tries to make with me I will insist goes through you. I’m sure a shrewd boy like you will be able to use this to advance your career.”

He seemed to think about it for a long moment before slowly raising his hands to settle on her hips, “Well Ms. Romanova,” he said, slipping back into his stripper persona but keeping his feisty shrewdness front and center this time. “What can I do to ease the suffering I have so carelessly caused you?”

Valentina smirked. Oh, she was going to like this one. “To start off, you can get on your knees.”

He gracefully slid off her lap and down onto the floor, looking up at her with eyes that might have been innocent if they weren’t so knowing. “Pull your cock out of your shorts but don’t touch it any further.”

He obeyed, freeing his very pleasant looking cock to the air. She was delighted to see that it was already half hard. “Now take off my trousers and put your face in my cunt. I assume you know what you’re doing since you seem to know everything else.”

He bristled at the comment which was Valentina’s intention, but in truth she really didn’t care that he wielded sex as a weapon. If it worked for him then … hell, she was even impressed by it.

He made a point of going slow as he pulled down her trousers, he deliberately poked out his tongue before he moved in to flick her clit with it. Maybe another time she would be willing to take it slow and enjoy this guy a little more but even if he didn’t have any backup, it wasn’t smart staying in the same room as a Fed for too long. So she grabbed his hair and pushed him further into her cunt saying in Russian, “I don’t have all day, pretty one.”

He looked up at her with an expression that could only be described as ‘put out’ but he continued flicking his tongue slowly, as if to defy her. Again, this may have been fun if she was not eager to get out this decency forsaken whorehouse. “I wonder how you do with the chain of command if you can’t even follow simple instructions,” she said, moving her knife to where he could see it again, but she made the movement deliberately casual. “I could just throw our deal out the window, knock you out and get back to work.”

His brows furrowed in annoyance but he seemed to decide that it wasn’t worth arguing about and started to quicken his pace. He ran his tongue around her labia, teasing the opening gently before thrusting his tongue in with a surprising amount of force. Valentina moaned, throwing her head back, enjoying his talented ministrations.

Once her head was clear and she had settled into the pace she poked out her leg that was covered from toe to knee in leather and placed it between Nathaniel’s thighs. “If you want to get yourself off you are going to have ride this. I want your hands where I can see them at all times.”

She didn’t really think he was stupid enough to try anything no matter how much training he had received but it was still smart not to underestimate people. She needed to stay in control of this interaction. Especially if their … working relationship was going to continue. He looked incredibly put out by the indignity of the order but nevertheless obeyed, pushing his, now full hard cock into the leather of the boot and thrusting. That sight certainly spurred Valentina’s own arousal. She just loved watching men’s hips slamming back and forth especially with the added desperation of having nothing to enter. It released something primal in men that was so hot.

Maybe living in a sexy spy movie wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Nathaniel did a particularly arousing maneuver with his tongue that had Valentina moaning again and Nathaniel himself thrusting his hips harder.

“Oh, that’s so good, you are so talented with that tongue of yours. I expect you’ve had many a suitor wanting to take advantage of it. But you are clever enough to use it to your own advantage aren’t you, my dear?”

He repeated the maneuver and quickened his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm. Valentina could feel the pleasure building inside her. She even felt a slight temptation to draw it out. She at least wanted him to cum first out of a sense of pride but it was difficult while looking at his arse bouncing up and down.

Thankfully he seemed to want this to be a quicky as much as she did so it wasn’t long before he released, spurting the hot, white liquid all over her leather boot. He then did something she didn’t expect. He took his mouth off her cunt, and leaned down to lick her boots clean of his own mess, maintaining eye contact all the while. This was an odd power move but it was effective. He resented being ordered to debase himself but he was willing to do it of his own volition if it got him the results he wanted. And it certainly did that. It made her so hot that she didn’t care if his tongue was still covered in semen, she could take the pill later. She grabbed his hair again and shoved his face back into her cunt and said, “If you don’t make me cum in the next thirty seconds I am going to stab you in the neck.”

He gave a small, throaty chuckle but obliged, pushing that tongue back where it belonged and thrusting it deep. Valentina gave him thirty seconds but she barely lasted twenty. She threw her head back and came, Nathaniel working her through the orgasm, not letting up his ministrations in the slightest. Her vision blacked out for a second but as soon as she got back to earth she saw a very self-satisfied boy standing in front of her, saying, “I believe this concludes our business for the moment. I look forward to your call.”

She wasn’t one of those insecure woman who couldn’t handle a bit of lip from a guy, in fact a bit of feistiness and impertinence tended to turn her on. And oh boy, did this one get her gears turning. So instead of giving him a well-deserved smack, she instead fixed her trousers, picked up her coat and said, “As do I Agent Jones. As do I,” before leaving the room, satiated but excited for the challenge to come.