Stress Relief

Stress
Relief

by

Evangeline
Anderson

KINDLE
EDITION

*
* * * *

PUBLISHED
BY:

Evangeline
Anderson on Amazon

Stress
Relief

Copyright
© 2012 by Evangeline Anderson

Kindle
Edition License Notes

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Author's note: This is just a hot
little fantasy I wrote after rewatching the Bourne Identity. I've always been a
big fan of James Bond or any kind of spy movie, really. But I like the idea of
a spy who has been conditioned to be a mindless, merciless killer turning out
to be something else instead. For those of you looking for the next Kindred
book, don't worry--it's on the way! I hope to have it out before the end of
2012 and in the meantime, you can enjoy a preview of chapter one at the end of
this book. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy this kinky little tale
of hot and scary secret agent sex.

Happy Reading!

Evangeline Anderson

Chapter One

Andi Tibideaux stared at the ominous scarlet lines spiking on her
monitor. This wasn’t good. This definitely wasn’t good. He was in the red and
Alpha never stayed in the red this long. He was a cool customer—the coolest the
Agency had. So why was he in the red? And why did it have to be now, when none
of her specially constructed “girls” was available?

She cursed the bad timing that had forced her to set up dates for
both Beta and Delta at the same time. It was bad luck too, that she was short
on girls. Just the week before Beta had rendered the best one she had
inoperative and it wouldn’t be back from the Agency’s repair shop for another
week at least. Damn it, why now?

Fumbling in her nervousness, Andi swept a strand of dark brown
hair behind one ear and turned to the lead reinforced panel built into the
right hand corner of her unremarkable looking desk. It took her three tries to
key in the correct sequence on the hidden keypad on the underside of the desk
but at last she managed. There was a small, discrete beep and the panel slid
open.

Inside in a tray lined with black velvet were four multi-faceted
crystal indicators, each about the size of her thumb and each connected to a
microchip implant in one of the agents. The indicators for Delta and Gamma were
pulsing fitfully, dim flashes of light coming from within their cores. That
made sense—agents Delta and Gamma were currently working on some serious stress
relief so the jewels connected to them would pulse until they were stress free.
Andi pressed the pad of her forefinger to each one in turn—warm but not burning
up. Again, as expected.

The indicator connected to agent Beta was cool to touch and very
dim. Andi shivered in disgust. It ought to stay that way for a good long time,
too. When she thought about the damage he’d done to her best girl…well, she
preferred not to think about that. The results of Beta’s last "date"
had been brutal.

Date, indeed. Andi shook her head. Her job was full of stupid
euphemisms and she was tired of saying one thing when she meant another. The
agents she worked with weren’t just faceless government workers—they were
counterintelligence officers, the best and most ruthless men that the Agency’s
pitiless regime of training and indoctrination could produce. Basically they
were cold blooded killers with a government stamp of approval. Their minds had
been broken and their bodies shaped to the Agency’s specifications—as a result
they were under enormous amounts of stress. Stress that could only be relieved
one way—that was where the girls came into play.

The three girls that Andi kept were basically synthetic whores
designed especially to service the agents. A well kept Agency secret, they
looked like women and acted like women at least to an extent, but beyond their
Playgirl bunny outward appearances their heads might as well have been stuffed
with cotton candy. They could walk and talk but anyone who spent any amount of
time with them would know at once that they were nothing but sex dolls with
extremely limited social functions.

The girls could take a lot of rough usage but even their tough,
specially designed bodies had limits. The animalistic needs of the agents who
fucked them on a regular basis for stress relief sometimes exceeded those
limits but they were a necessary evil. No real woman could withstand the savage
lusts of any of the men who worked under Andi. If she’d tried to send them real
prostitutes to relieve their stress the police would have been looking for a
serial killer before the week was out.

Andi looked at the faceted crystals again. Whether you called them
agents and girls or killers and whores, it didn’t matter. The point was that
she was responsible for them—at least the ones in her district. And right now,
according to the lines on her monitor and the indicators in the hidden tray,
Beta, Delta, and Gamma were all more or less stress free right now.

Satisfied that three of the four agents under her supervision were
under control, Andi turned her attention to the large crystal indicator lying
at the far end of the velvet lined tray. She could see at once that there was
trouble. The indicator was glowing brightly enough to cast shadows in the dim,
dingy little room that served as her office. And when she put out her finger to
test its heat…

“Ouch!” Andi pulled back her hand and put her finger in her mouth,
an involuntary reaction to the intense heat of the square cut crystal. God,
she’d never felt it that hot before! What the hell was going on with Alpha,
anyway? And why, oh why, couldn’t he have picked another time to need a date?

Her racing thoughts were interrupted by a warning flicker from her
monitor. Andi keyed the panel closed quickly and turned towards it a feeling of
dread, like a heavy lead weight, filling the pit of her stomach. As always
there was no face displayed on the screen, only the logo of the Counter
Terrorist Agency rotating slowing on the screen.

The CTA, known only as the Agency to those who worked for it and
not known at all by most citizens of the US, was an ultra secret government
organization. It had branches in all of the major cities in the world from Baghdad to Leningrad to Paris, and everywhere in
between. It was the brainchild of the CIA but since being green lighted by
legislation passed almost eight years before by the current administration, it
had quickly outgrown the supervision of its parent agency. Now it had surpassed
the boundaries laid down in the early days of the war on terror and was a law
unto itself. No one knew who ran it, or at least Andi didn’t, and she was
pretty sure none of the other employees of the Agency knew either. No one
policed it either, or if they did, they did it from far above Andi’s lowly
station.

“Tibedeaux,” a cool female voice addressed her from the monitor.
Andi straightened involuntarily in her plain swivel-backed chair, knowing that
whoever was on the other end could see her even if she couldn’t see them. She
smoothed her shapeless blouse with nervous fingers and tried to look competent
and in control.

“I’m here,” she said, staring at the gold CTA logo rotating
ceaselessly on the navy blue background. “You have instructions, Central?”

“We have questions,” the cool voice rapped out.

Andi tried not to flinch. The trick was not to let them think she
was frightened. If they knew she was frightened, they’d know she wasn’t in
control of the agents assigned to her care. She pasted an unconcerned, almost
bored look on her face and said mildly, “Ask.”

“Our monitors show an alarming surge in agent Alpha’s emotions.
Why has this not been rectified?”

“Alpha’s just returned to his base after fulfilling a directive.”
Andi tried to keep her voice level and reasonable. “He always runs in the red
for a little while after a mission. He’ll be fine—I’m keeping an eye on him.”

“Negative.” The cool voice barked. “Agent Alpha did not complete
his directive.”

“He…he didn’t?” For a moment Andi was at a loss for words. Not
complete a mission? Alpha, who was her best and most competent agent? It was
unthinkable. He had never failed to complete before—what the hell was wrong
with him?

“He aborted with no explanation—the target it still alive. Now his
stress readings are off the chart and you appear to be doing nothing about it,
Tibedeaux.” The cool voice was positively icy now. Andi felt like a cold finger
was being drawn down her spine.

“I…I’ll look into it at once,” she promised, staring at the
spinning CTA logo and wishing, not for the first time, that she could see the
person addressing her. “I’m on it, Central, don’t worry.”

“But we
do
worry,
Tibedeaux. Agent Alpha is our most valuable asset. He must have stress relief
at once and then he must be brought in for debriefing. Is that understood?”

“Yes, of course. But, well…there’s a slight problem.” Andi cleared
her throat nervously, aware that it sounded like she was making excuses. “You
see, Central, two of my girls are currently in use with agents Delta and Gamma
and the third is at the repair facility. So I really don’t have any—”

“If no girls are available, you must go yourself.”

“What?” Andi was sure she’d heard incorrectly. “Please repeat,
Central. It sounded like you said I should go myself.”

“Affirmative,” the cool female voice agreed. “The situation is too
critical to trust to a mere machine anyway. You must go to Alpha yourself,
Tibideaux. You were given basic training for this eventuality. You know what to
do.”

“But…but it’s suicide!” Andi felt her nipples harden in fear.
“There’s a reason Alpha is your best agent. He’s utterly ruthless. And
huge
.
God, he must be six four and two forty if he’s an ounce and every bit of it’s
muscle. I can’t just go to his apartment and offer myself for stress
relief—he’ll tear me apart!”

“That is precisely what we expect you to do, Tibedeaux.” The cool
voice was like a blast of arctic air. Andi could almost feel it chilling her as
it came from the monitor. “Agent Alpha must be calmed and preserved at all
costs. The mission he aborted was of utmost importance. The director of the
Agency himself is waiting to debrief him. We expect you to have him ready for
pick-up by o-seven hundred hours.”

“But that’s…that’s insane. I can’t—”

“You will do as you are instructed, Tibedeaux. May we remind you
that if agent Alpha has to be terminated, he will not be alone?”

Andi felt herself grow cold all over. There was no quitting the
Agency and there was no refusing a direct order. Directives were given and
obeyed without question at all times. The only alternative was a body bag and a
ride home in the cargo hold of an army plane.

“Do you understand?” The voice rapped out.

Andi swallowed and crossed her arms over her painfully peaked
nipples. “I…I understand, Central,” she said, forcing the words out through
numb lips. “I’ll report to Alpha’s apartment for stress relief.”

“At once,” the voice admonished. “And Tibedeaux?”

“Yes, Central?”

“Stress relief must be extremely through. We want Alpha completely
docile at pick-up time. Understood?”

“Under…understood.” Andi nodded at the monitor. “Tibedeaux out.”

“O-seven hundred hours,” the cool voice reminded her. “Central
out.”

Andi watched as the CTA’s logo flickered and winked out before
wrapping her arms around herself and letting the shivers overtake her. She has
just been ordered to offer herself like a piece of meat to the most dangerous
man she knew.

Oh, God, what was she going to do?

Chapter Two

As she stood in the elevator of agent Alpha’s apartment building
Andi tugged uselessly at the tight black mini skirt that kept trying to ride up
her thighs with every step. She had been forced to raid the closet of clothes
she kept for the girls in order to find something provocative to wear. A career
in counterintelligence didn’t exactly lend itself to a sexy wardrobe, at least
not in Andi’s case since she worked behind the scenes. She supposed she could
have been some kind of Mata Hari spy—if the Agency had deemed her good enough.
But with her plain dark brown hair and eyes and pale skin she wasn’t nearly
glamorous enough for that kind of role.

In fact, she thought as she pulled nervously at the thin red silk
blouse that barely covered her breasts, she wasn’t even glamorous enough to
impersonate one of her girls. They were willowy and tall with huge fake boobs
and long, coltish legs—obviously designed by a male scientist to be the epitome
of what men wanted. Andi was petite and wore a B cup—not exactly the male
ideal. She just hoped that Agent Alpha wouldn’t take one look at her and decide
she wasn’t good enough to use.
No, say it, Andi, not use—fuck. You hope he
won’t take one look at you and decide you’re not good enough to fuck.