The Flight Attendant

Chapter One

Her flight to Paris was two hours late, but Aya Lyon should still be okay. She is a flight attendant on Virgin Airlines, and she arrived at Charles De Gaulle Airport around 5 P.M., local time. She was supposed to meet him at 7 P.M. She would just have time to drop her bag off at the hotel and change her clothes.

Two hours later her and Robert St Claire entered L'Arc, one of the most exclusive clubs in Paris. It was located under the Arche de Triumph. You had to know someone, and she means SOMEONE to get in. Fortunately, Robert St Claire was SOMEONE. Once they were inside, she split away from him and headed for the bar. There were several rich and powerful members of High French Society there. She stepped between two middle-aged men in tuxes.

One spoke immediately, "Cherie, I have not seen you here before. If you may pardon an old line, are you new here?" She knew who he was. He was Andre Bardot. A very successful French industrialist.

She answered in perfect French, "Yes, monsieur, I arrived only this afternoon."

"And, how long are you planning on staying?"

"Not long, I am afraid. I have a friend who works here, and he said I HAD to see this place before I go home to New York tomorrow."

"Your friend is absolutely correct, my Cherie. This is a wonderful place. Have you eaten yet?"

Aya smiled her best smile and spoke. "I'm afraid I have not."

Then the man stood up, bowed, and said, "Then I must insist you have dinner with me tonight before you leave." He held out his arm. She put her hand on his arm and smiled.

"That would be wonderful, thank you so much. My name is Celia Dumas, and yours is?"

"It is not important, but you can call me Andre. Let me take you to a wonderful little café. The food is magnific, and the atmosphere is Parie."

He went out into the street. A car appeared as soon as they got to the curb. They were off. She conducted small talk on the trip. By the time they had arrived, Andre was laughing and had a twinkle in his eye. She had seen that look many times before. She had him hooked.

She took a moment to survey his team. Besides the driver, he had two security men, very capable looking. He also had what was obviously a secretary of some type. He sent the secretary ahead and by the time they were inside, a manager type was there to guide them to the best table in the establishment.

The dinner was very good, and Aya made sure the conversation was better. She made a point of touching his arm and hand on more than one occasion. Every time she did, he jumped just a little more.

After dinner and drinks, she yawned, "It's getting late. I really must be getting back to my hotel. Thank you for an unforgettable evening." Time to set the hook.

He stood up and pulled her chair out for her as she got up. "The night is still young. It is Paris, after all. You can't go so early."

"What would you suggest instead?" She smiled her best smile.

"If it would not be too forward of me, I have some very fine wines in my cellar. I would be honored to have you sample a couple with me."

She waited just the right amount of time before she smiled. "That would be very nice, thank you."

He led her back to the car, and they were off. They passed though the winding streets of Paris. They eventually came to a very nice part of Paris. She knew where he lived and had seen the interior layout beforehand. The chauffer stopped at the front door where a butler met them. The butler took

his coat and her shawl. They went into his den. After she sat down, he went to a bookcase, pulled a certain book out, and a hidden door opened. It would have been important for her to know that if there was anything other than a wine cellar behind the bookcase. It was a fine wine cellar. He hurried down the stairs and returned with a couple of wine bottles.

"This first one is a little 2014 bottle of Clos Rougeard. Nice wine. The second is better. It is a 2015 Champayne of Clos Rougeard. I suggest we start with the first and work our way to the second."

Aya smiled. Nice wines, not over the top. Each worth approximately two thousand American. Not a rare one. Just enough, he hoped, to get the job done.

The next couple of hours were spent in drinking a couple of bottles of nice wine. She made sure the conversation was fine too. Finally, he appeared to be done with foreplay.

He stepped up to her and kissed her on the mouth. This is what she had been waiting for. "My dear Andre. Please. I don't know you."

"You are in Paris, my love. You can have a memory to last a lifetime if you choose."

She looked down just for a second. "Maybe it's the wine talking, but I think I would like that." She reached up and kissed him back.

He took her by the hand and headed upstairs. The butler cleaned up the room as they disappeared up the stairs.

They passed a room she knew was his den. There was a door from his room into that room. Security had stayed downstairs, out of sight. She knew there was a closed-circuit system. It was everywhere except his bedroom and den. He didn't want any snooping there.

They entered his bedroom. It was everything she thought a macho man would have. Wood everywhere and a huge four-poster bed. The bathroom

was obvious, as was the door to his den. "If you would like to freshen up, my dear." He pointed to the bathroom. She headed in and closed the door.

She stood looking at herself in the mirror. She was a thirty-three-year-old woman that looked like a twenty-five-year-old woman. She had strikingly brunette hair that night, a face that turns heads, and a body that was perfect. She thought about that as she stripped her dress and slip off until she was down to her bra and panties. She thought of taking everything off now but figured it wouldn't look correct for what she was supposed to be. That can come later. Let him take them off. He'd enjoy that, anyway.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, he was already in the bed. He stopped what he was doing when she came out. She smiled, not at him, but at the fact she could still stop a room with an entrance.

She put her arm over her breasts, a bluff of modesty. "Why, Andre, you appear to be ready for me."

He held out his hand and helped her into bed. He was naked, and, for a man of his fifties, not too flabby. She could tell the look of her had done the trick. He was as hard as he was ever going to be. "My dear, we won't need those things."

She was right. He enjoyed removing the last remaining clothes. He slowly moved his hands over her breasts. The nipples were perfectly hard, and he was hard. He pulled her over to him and kissed her on the lips. He then bent down and began kissing each breast, one at a time. She let him play as long as he wanted. She had all night, and she could tell by his member he didn't.

After a couple of minutes, she bent down and took his dick in her mouth. If she wanted to, she could bring him to conclusion in a minute or two, but she didn't want him cheated. She wanted him to be tired out. She went very slowly, teasing him, playing with his balls, and biting him lightly in the crotch. The more she did, the more he strained to explode. She finally pulled him on top of her and whispered, "Fuck me, darling" in perfect French.

That was all it took. She guided him into her and let him enjoy the fruits of his "conquest." He exploded within a couple of minutes. He collapsed on top of her, and she nibbled on his ear and whispered quiet nothings to him. She waited until she was sure he was asleep. She then twisted her ring to reveal a little needle. She pricked him in the back of the neck. It was a sedative that would guarantee he would stay asleep for at least two hours.

Once that was done, she got up, went into the bathroom, and took a small flash drive out of the lining of the dress and headed for the den. She double checked for security. This was no time to trip a new security warning. Everything was quiet. She turned the computer on, inserted the drive, and hit copy. She didn't know what she was copying, and she didn't care. It would be encrypted, but she didn't care. Her job was to get it and get out. Twenty minutes later, it was done. She turned his computer off and went back into the bedroom. He was still sound asleep. She replaced the drive in the lining of her dress and climbed back into bed. She would wait for him to wake up, and then fuck him again. She would fuck him as many times as she could between now and dawn. She wanted him to think of nothing but her pussy until she could get out of there.

By dawn, she had fucked him three more times. He finally had to ask to stop. He couldn't get it up any longer.

She smiled. "Andre, I must admit, you are a very virile man for your age. I couldn't take another fucking like that for a while. I must get back to my hotel and check out before I miss my flight."

All he could do was smile. She went into the bathroom, got dressed, and came out. She bent down and kissed him on the lips.

"Thank you, Andre, for a memory I will cherish for the rest of my life."

"When you get downstairs, tell the butler to have the car take you to your hotel."

He collapsed back on the bed, and she went downstairs.

She just had time to get back. She threw the brown wig in the trash bin, changed back into her Virgin uniform, and headed for the airport. The flight was uneventful.

The little mousey man she knew only as Fred met her at the airport. They performed one of their standard "drops" and she gave him the drive. She then headed home. It had been a long couple of days, and she was tired.

Once home, she took a long shower to reflect on her life. She was born in Paris of a French mother and an American father. She had dual citizenship. She went to her father's alma mater, Georgetown in D.C. and studied linguistics. She could speak French, Spanish, German, and was presently studying Russian. They were the "villains" of the moment, and she wanted to know if one of them was talking about killing her. She had been recruited during her Senior year by the CIA. Apparently, her father worked for the CIA and had failed to mention that during their twenty years together. She had performed several tasks for them, but her specialty was seducing overconfident men. That was just about all of them. She thought she could seduce any man alive. She had a bet once that she could seduce a Catholic Priest, but she didn't take it because she thought it was too easy. She did have a rule against "wet" work. Not that she had any morality about killing. She just didn't think it was necessary. She was confident she would be able if needed. She preferred sex. It was more fun, and to her, more reliable. Besides, if she ever did kill someone for them, they would have her over a barrel. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life killing people. She would rather just fuck them.

She got out of the shower and dried off. Her natural hair color was black, coal black. Andre had been like most men. He never noticed the carpet didn't match the drapes. They never do. She had been a blonde, a brunette, even a redhead once. She normally cut the carpet off to save the problem but hadn't had time on this job.

Her normal job was as a flight attendant for Virgin Airlines. It was a real job, and it enabled her to travel the world whenever she needed to.

The CIA made sure she would get assigned to the flight she needed. She didn't know how, nor cared much. Most of her flights were normal assignments by Virgin. She would get her notice if the next one was "special".

The next assignment was entirely different. It was in Germany and involved a labor activist. The CIA wanted to compromise him to get him out of leadership. Her job was to get him in compromising positions so they could blackmail him to force him out. Compromising was her specialty.

Her flight to Berlin landed by noon. She went to the assigned apartment to find her contact. Huerter laid it all out. "His name is Gunther Wagner. He is the thirty-two-year-old leader of the largest fascist party in Germany. We can't kill him right now, but we need to discredit him with his own people. His second in command has already agreed to help us sabotage the next election if he is in charge. Wagner had to be out in less than a month to give his successor the time he needs. We know he has a few private kinks that should play into your hands. He visits a private sex club in Berlin. You will have to get him to take you there as they do not allow anyone they do not know personally. We will start with you and him in this apartment, if you can get him here. He usually doesn't go to an unknown location. If we can get the pictures and video we need here, we don't need the club. We must do this as quickly as we can to give the public outcry time to work.

The clothes they had for her was a world apart from her last assignment. Leather and whips and chains. "Really. I have to use this stuff?"

"This is what he is into. You will have to play it by ear. We don't know if he is the submissive or dominant player in his little games. You will have to figure it out as you go. If you are here, we will be watching. If not, all we will have for you is a tracker and bug. It will take us a few minutes to rescue you if you are in a bad position. We can start in a kink bar that he frequents. You should be able to make contact there."

That night she was sitting at the bar of the establishment in question. Huerter didn't do it justice. Most of the people in the bar were dressed in some form of leather. She wanted to stand out, so she wore a plain, but revealing mini skirt with a halter top. She had a short, blonde wig on. She knew if nothing else, she stood out. Most of the night was spent fending off creeps and losers. Finally, around eleven, Wagner strolled in with a couple of buddies. Great, reinforcements. In a drunk group, men are unpredictable and dangerous. She quietly spoke up. "He's here, with friends."

"Understood. Be careful and have fun."

"Asshole."

It didn't take Wagner long to figure out the only interesting target in the bar was the new girl. He sauntered over and stopped in front of her. "What do we have here?" She ignored him. "Are you too rude to speak to me when I speak to you?"

She turned on her stool and faced him. "Not rude, just disinterested."

"You don't even know me."

She looked him up and down. "I've seen enough." She had already figured out he was a submissive. She couldn't explain how, but she knew.

He then surprised her and told his friends to leave them alone. "So, if you don't like our type..." He swung his arm around the bar to include everyone there. "..why are you here? You don't look like us. You German isn't great, so you aren't German. Why are you here?"

He had sent his friends away, so she had a chance. "Just because I don't see something that interests me at the moment, doesn't mean I'm not interested in the atmosphere."

He stopped and looked at her for a moment. "I see. You like the atmosphere, but not the present occupants?"

"Something like that. I'm from out of town, obviously. So, I am not familiar with your establishments that may bend the way I like. I picked this place because I was told this is where I could meet people of a certain lifestyle. I am here for only a short time, but I need a little something."

She had him hooked, and she knew it. "A little something. You think you can walk in here and we will give you whatever you want?"

She smiled at him for the first time. It was a radiant smile. "Nothing in the world is free. I am prepared to pay the price for what I want."

"What if we don't need your money?"

She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Who said anything about money?"

That stopped him cold. He began licking his lips. She could tell he was calculating if he could score with her, and what her kink might be. "Look, I don't do any drugs, or anything that is illegal. No minors, nothing like that."

"Then we are good. I have no interest in drugs or kids. I just like sex a little rougher than most people, and I was told I could find someone here that might know how I could scratch my itch before I leave."

"We might be able to help you." He reached out and laid his hand on her knee. She left it there and smiled. He turned and called his friends back. They talked for a few minutes, and he came back to her.

"If you are willing to go with us, we can fix you up."

So far so good. She hoped Huerter and his men could really keep up with wherever they were going. "Why not?" She stood up and followed them out the door. They led her out to a car and headed off. After driving for a few minutes, they pulled up to a small house in a quiet neighborhood. It was in a suburb of Berlin. Everyone went inside. It looked like any other residential house.

"Welcome to our little home. Make yourself comfortable. There are beers in the fridge."

They left her in the living room of the house for a few minutes. When they returned, they were dressed in a leather attire. Wagner was dressed in a short vest with a collar on. He had short shorts that barely covered his crotch. His friends were also in leather of various types. "My dear, you may go into the next room and pick some clothes that might suit you."

She got up and went into the bedroom. It was full of all types of sex game clothes. She stripped her clothes off and selected a bustier of fake studded diamonds and a v shaped panty that attached to the bustier. Nice set. She added a whip for an extra touch.

When she came out of the room, there were a couple of new girls there. They were obviously not new girls. Everyone was talking excitedly about the new girl.

One of the girls who couldn't be more than eighteen came up to her excitedly, "What are you into, sweetie? I'm into bondage myself. I like to be tied up, or stringed up, and whipped and fucked like a prisoner. It turns me on to be helpless with my captor."

The other girl, a little older chimed in, "I'm into sex dolls. Being one. I like being handled and fucked while I play like I'm a doll."

Aya looked at these young women and mourned their future. She hoped they would escape this mess in time.

Aya snapped her whip. "I'm more into domination myself." The two girls jumped back and huddled excitedly.

The three men were watching the show. They were obviously waiting to hear about Aya's predilection. Once they knew, they huddled.

Wagner spoke. "Okay, I guess we have our couples. I am taking Lidia, the sex doll girl, Bert is with our BDSM girl, and Guenter is going to be dominated tonight. There are three rooms upstairs, one for each of us."

Guenter led Aya up to their room. She didn't really know how to be a dominate, technically, but she had been playing on men her whole life. This would just be a little more direct.

She snapped her whip and said, "On your knees on the bed, Muschi." That is the German word for "pussy." He immediately climbed on the bed and got on his knees. "Turn around and bend over. I want to see that ass."

He bent over, exposing his ass. She pulled his shorts down, revealing a good-sized dick. She began lightly whipping his ass and balls. After several minutes of this, she reached out and grabbed his dick. She began pulling on it as it grew. "That's it. Let's see how big you can get."

The more she worked him, the harder he got. She knew he was not going to last long, so she stopped. "That's enough for you, worm. Now, it's time you service me. Get up." He got off the bed and she took his place. She then snapped the bottom of her panties and spread her legs. The poor man almost lost his load when he saw that perfectly shaved, dripping pussy. He climbed down and began working on her. "You will continue until I tell you to stop."

If he slowed down, she hit him on the head with her whip. She was going to make him work on her for as long as she could take it. She wanted to get this night over with. Wagner was her target, not this moron. After twenty minutes, she gave up. He couldn't take her home. "Stop, worm. You obviously are lousy at giving head, maybe you are better at fucking. Get up here and fuck me right. Do not come until I tell you." She turned around and got on her knees. He hurriedly climbed onto the bed and onto her. Once he found the honey spot, he began working her over in earnest. This was better. At least he could hit the correct spots. After several minutes, she told him to come. He came immediately. When he finally finished, he fell off her onto the bed. He looked spent, so she snapped her panties back in place and went looking for Wagner.