The Organization

Copyright 2012, 2020 Lisa Summers

When I returned to the office, I found Melissa working on a case regarding the CFO of a mid-size grain company who was suspected of embezzling company pension funds.

"Have you got a minute?" I asked her. She pulled back her medium length brown hair, and took off her glasses. She managed to look beautiful with or without them, and I was jealous of that.

"Certainly," she replied. "What's up?" I filled her in on the details of Laughlin's situation.

"God, that sounds terrible," she said. "What do you think is going on?"

"Hard to say," I said. "But I believe he was sincere. The question is, do we want to get involved. There's risk..."

"Yeah, we'd need to make it very clear that our services only include finding his wife and daughter - not to include this mysterious Boss character. Laughlin said he was like Fu Manchu, the Chinese super villain from the movies?" she asked. "Also, I'd suggest something else," Melissa said.

"Laughlin never made it clear that the guy was Chinese, or Asian," I said. "I'd just as soon we don't start out thinking he is, or we might miss an entire line of investigation if it turns out he isn't. Plus, it would certainly be racist to assume he's 'like Fu Manchu' until we get proof. So, what's the 'something else' you mentioned?" I asked.

"We'd need to make it clear that we would not be 'rescuing,' or 'freeing,' or any other action that stated or implied that we were moving the wife and daughter - what were their names?"

"Audrey, the wife, and Sara, the daughter," I said.

"-that we were moving Audrey and Sara from wherever they are. That could open us up to kidnaping charges if this were a voluntary situation, as with cults. They're both adults, and have the right to go wherever they damn well please."

"Good thought," I said. "But, goodness...to go from being 'boring hetero' to 'lesbian porn stars' in apparently a week or so..."

Melissa shrugged. "This is probably a boring, straightforward, 'find the missing person' case, we just need to be careful. But the timing is perfect for us, we were running into some cash flow issues. We still haven't been paid by the Ecuadorean government on that Felipe Sanchez thing."

"Not to mention the 'behind the scenes' work we did exposing Jeffery Epstein. Okay, I'll start some inquiries," I said, "and get a written agreement from Laughlin. Otherwise, I'm headed home. Michael is making dinner."

"Nice," Melissa said. "Neither Arthur or Cliff are that talented...at least culinarily. But I am taking Cliff to my Mom's for dinner this weekend."

Melissa's mother was a federal judge, but also a great cook, and still in her mid-forties.

"Lucky you," I said.

****

"Hi, I'm home," I announced.

"Hey, babe," Michael said, sauntering out of the kitchen, a small spot of some red sauce on his shirt. Michael was my longtime boyfriend. We'd talked about marriage, and I was sure it was in our future, but I was in no rush to get there. He kissed me lingeringly, and I could feel myself wetting. After the filth and degradation of the Laughlin videos, somebody normal and sexy was a welcome relief.

I spoke generally of my day, leaving out the identity and character of our new client, and the seamy nature of the evidence.

"Abducted, or wife left and took the kid?" he said, clarifying the issue immensely. Although neither of those scenarios would come close to explaining the videos. I decided to put the case out of my mind for the evening, and just enjoy my time with Michael - it's not like I got that much time alone with him.

After Michael's spaghetti, we cuddled and watched TV, sipping on Chianti, and then moved to the bedroom.

Michael watched as I slipped out of my skirt and blouse, leaving me in bra and panties.

"God, I love your body, baby," he said. I looked back over my shoulder at him, my long blonde hair falling sexily across my back.

"Really?" I said, innocently.

"Oh god, yes," he said, rising from the bed to take me in his arms from behind, and nuzzling my neck. I could feel his hard on pressing into my ass, and giggled.

"It seems as though something has come between us," I cooed, as my hand went to the slit in his boxer shorts, my fingers wrapping around the hot, pulsing shaft of his cock.

"Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about," he sighed, as I turned around, pushing him back onto the bed, and sinking to my knees. I slipped his boxers down, off his hips, his cute dick spring up to point at me. I giggled again. His piss slit was oozing his clear, viscous pre-cum, the salty and sweet juice he produced that I loved so.

I licked the head of his cock, plump and dark pink, almost red. Michael was circumcised, and I circled around his heart-shaped dick head with my tongue, savoring the feel of his tight, smooth skin there, and inhaling the hot, fresh, masculine smell of his crotch, then surrounding his meat with my lips, and slowly sinking my mouth over his six inch long rod.

"Mmmm," I moaned as I sucked gently on his cock, loving the feel of my man's hot meat in my mouth, lewdly sucking his cock, or as he liked to describe it to me, spoken slowly and lasciviously, 'giving me a blow job.' My head bobbed up and down on his penis for a few minutes, his hips thrusting as he tried to fuck my mouth with his sweet Italian cock. His balls, in their hairy sack, hung heavily below, swinging into my chin as I swallowed his masculine goodness.

I could feel his fingers twining through my hair, slipping effortlessly through my glossy coif, as he responded to the pleasure my lips and tongue were bringing him. My fingers teased his balls, caressing their sensitive underside, even as they began to pull up as his readiness to cum approached.

"Whoah, Kacey," he said, "I don't wanna cum yet." As I slipped my mouth off him, he smiled.

"I want some of that honey between your legs, too," he murmured. "Then I want to fuck the crap out of you."

"That sounds nice," I whispered, as I leaned in to him, kissing him, loving the feel of his stubbly face on mine. He almost literally picked me up, steering me onto the bed, where I sprawled on my back, laughing. He immediately covered me with his strong form, smelling of male sweat, so exciting and hot. We kissed, my nipples almost painful with their extension, my pussy nearly gushing with my excitement.

"Oh please, lick me," I begged. He grinned.

"The very tastiest dessert," he growled, reaching under me to unhook my bra, then gently kissing and biting my pink nipples, causing me to arch my back in an effort to diffuse the intense pleasure already coursing through me. The gentle suction of his mouth on my nipples was the sweetest kind of pain, shooting pain and pleasure both to my clit - I thought that it'd explode with pleasure.

"Oh GOD!" I gasped. I could feel something hot and wet dripping from my pussy. Michael brought his face down between my legs.

"Mmm, I smell hot pussy," he said, teasingly. He kissed my inner thighs just next to the gusset of my white, lace panties. My butt squirmed around as I ached to feel his rough tongue fucking my tender little hole. He slipped his tongue under the fabric, licking the creamy juice all over my vee, just outside of my labia.

"Eat me," I demanded. "Eat my cunt, fuck me with your tongue, then with your big, fat cock." I was both demanding and pleading, hot to cum under him. I lifted my legs up, pushing my swollen vulva against the thin fabric of my panties, and opening up my vagina under the fabric.

Michael took pity on me - partially - and pulled my panties off my hips up to mid-thigh, when what I really wanted was to be completely naked and exposed to him. Michael pressed his nose and mouth into the torrid swamp of my cunt, his nose on my landing strip, his tongue and lips licking up the copious flow of my hot, sweet lubrication, smacking his lips, and groaning to show his appreciation for the taste, texture and heat of my pussy, primed to cum.

"Oh god oh god oh god," I moaned, as he swirled his tongue inside me, then up and down my slick pussy lips, and finally over my clit, making me cry out with pleasure. "Fuck!" I screamed, as the touch of his rough tongue over my swollen, hot clit brought waves of euphoria crashing over me, my thighs quivering and shaking from an overdose of pure pleasure.

Michael slowed his pleasurable torture of my clit, kissing the fronts of my thighs, then raised himself up over me and brought his mouth to mine. Ordinarily, I can't think of anything that would be weirder or more bizarre than the taste of my own pussy, or god forbid, another woman's, but when he has me so excited, the thought of tasting pussy cream on his mouth revs me up even more.

He slipped his tongue, wet and hot, and tasting of cunt, between my lips, exciting me, as we kissed hotly and passionately, slowly slipping himself into the space between my legs, the desirable feel of him against me there making me open up further. I brought my hand down to his pulsating heat, guiding his plump cock head and stiff rod into my tight little pussy, groaning as he easily slipped inside me.

"Ohhh," I moaned, feeling the excitement and pleasure of my man filling me, heightening my passions and excitement once again.

"Aaaah, your pussy...so hot and tight...I love fucking your sweet little hole," he moaned into my ear, thrusting, his hard meat filling me, making me feel tiny under him. My hips moved on their own, rocking and making him jerk from spasms of pleasure.

"Yeah, fuck me, Michael, fuck my little hole...take me, make cum, fill my little pussy with all your hot cum...fuck, fuck, fuck..." I whispered, as he gave me hard thrusts, too many to count, our ecstasy building, our bodies and souls as one. I bit his shoulder as the sweetness of my cum filled me, and moaned and babbled with happiness, as I felt his heat and wetness fill me inside, loving the feel of his hot man cum inside of me.

"Oh baby, I love you so," I whispered, holding him close to me, as we came, together.

"I love you, too, baby," he whispered as he quickly slid off to sleep, and off my body. I cuddled next to him, then fell asleep myself.

****

The next few days I spent tracking down the meager leads I was able to develop, based on the information that Laughlin was able to give me. Melissa was working her leads, as we'd both agreed that if we went after this case intensively, we ought to be able to break it open quickly, and locate the two women - assuming that they were both still in the country.

If they had been smuggled out, overseas, then we were in trouble.

Finally, I got word from an associate (read, "criminal associate") of Laughlin's, that a Melanie Cain, a porn actress, had been brought into town about a month before Laughlin's family had disappeared, and she, too, had then dropped out of sight. Her picture resembled the actress I had seen in the lesbian videos with the Laughlin women. I had the address of her sister in Queens, so I thought I'd give it a shot.

As it turned out, her sister was pretty talkative, and not at all secretive about what she knew of her sister's doings - which, unfortunately, wasn't all that much. She didn't seem to be aware that Melanie was involved in the X-rated part of the wonderful world of cinema, telling me that Melanie told her that she mainly acted in industrial training films, and that she was in town doing some work along those lines in a studio on Staten Island.

She was kind enough to give me the general area - New Dorp, on Sterling Avenue. I decided to check the area out, after letting Melissa know where I was going. The supposed 'studio' turned out to be a small, converted disco, with no signage. I made up a general purpose, "I was looking for-" story, and walked in. There was a receptionist, and three small offices off the small lobby.

"Hello, can I help you?" the receptionist said, in the worst-sounding New York accent I've ever heard. I laid my story on her, while looking around. The whole place looked about as anonymous as an office can look, with no business cards, pictures of products sold, teams sponsored... nothing. That's kind of suspicious, but it doesn't give you much to go on.

As she was explaining how to get to the plumbing supply down the street, a tall Asian man of about fifty with a, I swear to God, Fu Manchu type of droopy mustache like Christopher Lee wore in the 1966 movie "The Brides of Fu Manchu", walked out of one of the offices, walked up to me, and said, "Welcome, Miss Andrews," as he quickly spritzed something bitter smelling in my face.

Then I blacked out.

I woke up, naked and shivering, bound as securely as a death row inmate on the table waiting for the needle, on a low slung leather kind of recliner, in a room about 20' by 20',with blank walls and a tile floor. My legs were spread wide, and tied to stanchions, my feet and legs, like the rest of me, immobile. There was a slot in the recliner, between my legs, as well as an opening under my butt.

"Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly," the Asian man said. He was tall, and thin, and somehow, evil looking, with a thin, long and droopy moustache. "Of course, that line would have been more appropriate when you entered our studio. This is more of a kitchen, I think." He smiled, a horrible leer.

"We're going to prepare you, and bake you, until you're the sweet little cake that we want."

It looked like it was going to be a long day. "And when the FBI crashes in, then what are you going to do...Dr. Manchu?"

He looked at me, and then started laughing. It hurt my feelings. "Well?" I said.

He laughed again. "My name's not Fu Manchu," he said, with a voice like the hinge on a mausoleum door. "It's Timothy."

I was trained as a rookie agent to always take control of any situation. But the fact of the matter is, sometimes situations don't want to be taken control of. He whispered to a girl of about twenty who was standing by, and then he stalked out of the room. She looked at his back, then hurried out a second door somewhere behind me.

A few minutes later, I heard a woman enter behind me, her heels making a loud tapping sound on the hard floor. I felt a soft hand caress the back of my neck, and then she came into my field of vision.

It was the actress from the lesbian Audrey and Sara videos. In person, she didn't actually look that much like Melanie Cain's photo. She was in her twenties, with medium length brown hair and green eyes. She was wearing a business suit, something from YSL, I think.

"Hello, Miss Andrews," she said, her voice the epitome of sexy. "This is the end of your journey."

"Fuck," I thought. "They're going to kill me. I guess I was too clever by half." Then she smiled, a warm, seemingly sincere smile.

"We've been waiting for you...and, we want your help." At least it sounded like maybe they wouldn't kill me...

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. Second rule on the FBI informal rules list was, 'always play dumb, because sometimes you are dumb.'

"Don't worry, Kayce," the woman said. "We don't want information, we just want you to help us," she said, her smile still warm. As pretty as she'd been in the lesbian videos, even while doing disgusting things, in person, she was even more attractive.

"Why should I help you, and Dr. Fu Manchu?" I retorted. "Our investigation is going to be wrapping you all up soon, I'm just waiting for the SWAT member with my bathrobe."

"Jesus, lady, his name is Timothy," she said. I didn't hear the two women who had followed her in, and who weren't dressed in sultry female criminal evening wear, but just simple tee shirts and jeans.

"Set her up," the actress said. She turned to me. "You can call me Mary Ann."

An exotic female criminal named Mary Ann, who looked like a sorority girl? A scary looking criminal-type named Timothy?

Fuck!

I didn't have time to think the situation through. I noticed a small rod sticking out between my legs, close to my vagina. One of the jean-clad girls snapped what looked like a pink dildo on it, brushing her hand and the dildo against my naked crotch. She glanced at me and smiled. She pressed a button on a remote control in her hand briefly, and the rod began rotating around, around and around. I looked closer. It was a freaking dildo.

Mary Ann saw me staring at it. "Oh, don't worry about that," she said. "By the time we get around to using it, you're going to want it...very, very much. It's called a sibyan."

While she was speaking, and I was staring, someone from behind me slid a hypodermic needle into my arm, and I felt a slight sting, then the cool of an alcohol swab following it. I guess that was reassuring - if they were going to kill me, they probably wouldn't be too concerned about an injection site becoming infected, right?

Then they set up what looked like a microphone stand between my legs, but instead of a microphone, it was holding a massaging vibrator - you know, one of those white, clinical looking vibrators with the big, round soft head. Whatever they had injected me with, it was starting to take hold. I felt a warm, relaxed feeling, and all the resistance in me was quickly fading away.

"You'll feel yourself becoming very relaxed, and even happy," Mary Ann said. "We don't believe in torture per se, as you know it, but be reassured, when we're done, you'll not only tell us everything you know, you'll be very happy that you did." She left, or at least walked out of my sight, and the technician girls went to work.

A big, very big, plasma screen lowered down from the ceiling, almost completely filling my view. It came on, and started showing randomly, still pictures in HD of naked women - really, really beautiful naked women, interspersed with short clips, maybe a minute or two in length, and also in HD, of two, or sometimes three equally beautiful women in various stages of lovemaking, from just kissing to down and dirty pussy and ass licking, strap on fucking and scissoring. I began to get a weird feeling that I was in the room, or sometimes the bed, with the women on the screen.

Yes, I was completely straight, but I also wasn't ignorant of what other people do.

Then they placed very light, almost unnoticeable headphones over my ears, with the sounds of women talking intimately and sweetly between themselves, or the sounds of two women making love, and soft music, all divorced from the scenes on the plasma screen, but obviously on the same theme.

One girl turned on the vibrator, and by the sound, that's all it was, and the other adjusted the vibrator so that it began to move toward me, and more specifically, my genitals. There was no sense of trepidation on my part, like you might feel as a source of pain approaches, but just an interested anticipation. Somewhere in the back of my brain, I was thinking that this was a really weird way to get information out of me - heck, they hadn't even asked any questions yet - but I was relieved that they weren't coming at me with a scalpel or electrical wires hooked up to a battery.

Soon, the vibrator nestled itself between my legs, pressing lightly against my clitoris, sending an immediate jolt of pleasure through me, causing me to gasp. It held against me for maybe ten seconds or so, and then it moved back a few inches away. I realized that, in spite of the drugs they'd given me, I had tensed up intensely when the vibrator pressed into my clit, spasming my sensitive little button, and causing streams of ecstasy to course through me.

A few seconds later, the vibrator moved forward again, the vibrator again pressing against my clit, and delight energizing my body. As before, it stayed there for about ten seconds or so, pleasure filling me. This went on for hours, and after two hours of this I began to become woozy from my body becoming relatively frenzied, then relaxing.