AI art by me: Sam and Andy

Ethan was enjoying a beautiful afternoon watching the fountains before the Bellagio.  He was often a Vegas person, but the need to unwind after the harrowing events of the previous two years called for something extreme, something neon, someone mostly naked, bound, and eager to please.  That wouldn’t be a problem to find here.

Sipping his frappuccino, he’d admired the well-proportioned brunette walking in his direction.  The dress code on The Strip was what you’d imagine: anything goes.  This lady had class in a skintight minidress that showed generous amounts of leg.  She knew how to use heels.

Her eyes had already locked onto his attention to her and flashed him a yes, you can enjoy smile.  Thank God for honest women in this day and age.

Ethan raised one eyebrow when she stopped at his table.

“Good evening, Mr. Hunt.” She wished him in a honeyed and cultured voice.

He sighed.  “I’m on vacation.”

She smiled in sympathy.  “We’re well aware, but it was thought you’d like this next…assignment.” Her lips danced a little over the word as she emphasized it.

“Oh?” His interest was piqued now.  “What’s your name?”

Her eyes widened.  “That isn’t protocol, Sir.”

He grinned, the one that usually moistened panties if she wore any.  “True, but you know what it can mean by how you said that title.  So tell me.”

She blushed a pretty pink.  “Andrea, Sir.” Her eyes lowered.

“Have you been a naughty girl, Andy, and read my Black File?” He knew the answer based on her actions.

Her eyes came up to his in fright.  “No, Sir.  I mean…yes, Sir, but not officially.” She shrugged and squirmed.

Ethan let his eyes roam over her; now he knew she was aware.  “They’re still circulating that bootlegged version?”

Andy nodded.  “Yes, Sir…I didn’t do it, but…someone keeps it updated.”

“Please, tell me they are at least careful who gets it?” He’d always wondered and knew Andy would tell him anything right now.

She nodded.  “I had to…Well, I had to prove I wasn’t just asking, Sir.”  Her eyes begged him not to ask further.

“Anyone in the know could tell just by seeing you.” He shrugged.

She grinned now on more relaxed ground.  “I’m not always like this, Sir.  I’m usually behind a desk in a room full of them.”

He laughed.  “From Russia With Love kind of thing?”

She blushed once more.  “Sort of.  There was a lottery.  I won.”

It would be crass to ask how many were in the lottery to meet him. “Shall we get back to business, then?”

She hesitated.  “Am I in trouble, Sir?”

He grinned wider this time.  “Do you want to be, Andy?”

Her eyes lowered, then flashed up to his.  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

Reaching into his suit jacket, he pulled out two cards. Both had his safe number to call and leave a message: “You take one and keep it. Write on the back of the other one where I can reach you whenever I wish. I’ll call and discuss your punishment.”

She nodded and produced a pen from her tiny clutch. After exchanging numbers, she cocked her head. “Why give me your number, Sir?” 

“I think I’d like you to have it.” He shrugged.  “I like your style.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She smiled and beamed.  “Here, Sir.  I’ll look forward to your call.” Andy turned to go.

“You may not look forward too much without express permission, Andy.” He murmured.

She shivered but didn’t turn back.  “Yes, Sir.  I’ll be good.”

“Edging is fine…all you want but no more.” He took the thumb drive she’d handed him and got out his laptop.

Andy gave him a heated back glance with a slow smile.  “Yes, Sir.  I will.”

No doubt she would also be dying to tell her friends about this, but knew better.  A back part of his mind filed away the idea of the lovely Andy gasping, moaning, and wishing for a release from him she wouldn’t get…not for a long while.  He kept track of such things in a mental Rolodex: something to be enjoyed in quiet moments.

Ethan started his laptop and put in the drive.

The screen flickered, then told him it would be scanning his ID.  Patiently, he waited as the laptop camera came alive with a red glow and found his left eye.

“Retinal Scan Complete.” A computer voice announced.

The screen changed to show a stunning redhead in the act of laughing at someone’s joke.  It lit up her already attractive face.

“Good evening, Mr. Hunt.” A female voice began.  He knew it.  Try as he might, he’d only ever been able to find a first name.  It was because that was all she’d allowed him to see.  He knew it.  

Rachel continued: “I trust you let poor Andrea mostly unscathed.  I was sure you’d like her to be the courier.  Try not to ruin this one like last time.” Her voice held amusement but was partially serious.  The last time, she had seen the woman become fixated and had to be let go with harsh warnings.

“No promises.” He murmured.

“Yes, I know you won’t do anything different no matter what I say.” Rachel sighed.  She couldn’t hear him; this was prerecorded, but she knew him well enough.  “And, no, I am not the one who keeps updating the illegal copy of your Black File.  I could tell you who it was, but I don’t wish to do so.” Her smile was clear in her tone.

A Black File wasn’t a real name, but was what was referred to when accessing the sexual preferences and abilities of an agent.  It kept track of their liaisons, internet traffic, and so forth.  His was…ah…large and longer than most.  

It came as no surprise to anyone who knew him or had read of him that he was dominant in the field and also in the bedroom. He had an uncanny ability to engender a level of trust in women that defied explanation, and he could do it way too quickly.

“When this assignment came up, I immediately thought of you, so I do hope you won’t be angry with me for interrupting your vacation.  As an apology, I’ve securely emailed you a copy of Andrea’s Black File.  I think you’ll find it quite illuminating.” Rachel explained.

Ethan smiled. He wanted Rachel’s file, but that would never happen.  They both enjoyed this banter and teasing way too much to endanger it.  They’d never said as much to each other, but he knew it was agreed.

“The woman you’re enjoying looking at right now is Samantha Freedman.  We think she’s been turned by Chinese forces, but we are unsure.  Your assignment, should you choose to accept it,” her soft chuckle spoke volumes, “is to approach her, engage her, and find out by any means you wish if she’s been turned and by whom.  If she can be, urge her to become a triple agent under strict watch.”

Ethan knew what that meant.  If he vouched for her, he’d be her handler when possible or assign it to someone he trusted when he couldn’t.

“Her location this evening is in her file and should help you achieve your goals.  Good luck, and as always, if you should be caught, killed, or compromised, the Secretary will disavow any knowledge of your activities.  This drive will self-destruct in five seconds.”  Rachel ended.

Ehtan knew it was probably fine, but he grabbed the drive quickly and placed it in the ashtray on his table.  Such things were a rarity these days, but he’d noticed it when he’d sat down.  The smoke from the drive wouldn’t cause any commotion if it came from an ashtray.

Settling back in his chair, he checked into his secure email. As promised, there was the Black File on Samantha. Looking up her regular service record wouldn’t be challenging, but it was beside the point.  

She had self-identified as a Dom-leaning Submissive.  It wasn’t surprising since she was an agent and would have to have some semblance of strength or steel.  What she watched and read would tell more of the truth.  Scrolling through it, Ethan smiled.  For someone leaning Dom, Samantha did have a love of reading CNC novels, and most of her videos were of women being dominated, punished, and always in bondage.  Good to know.

She regularly attended a BDSM club nearby, and the file showed she’d checked into it just an hour earlier. Being a club, it was members-only. Ethan got out his phone and called some right or wrong people. It depended on your moral compass.  

Stopping by his hotel room, he heard a discreet knock at the door.  When he arrived, he checked and ensured no one was in view of the peephole.  Opening the door, there was a black leather valise waiting for him.  Taking it inside, he opened it to find everything he’d requested—time to change.

Thirty minutes later, he entered the dark glass double doors of a building that held no neon sign above it.  It was in a more industrial part of town and was probably a converted warehouse.  Much money had gone into making it look sleek, shiny, and foreboding. 

There’s been a card reader outside the doors.  He’d let his newly minted membership card be scanned, and the buzz told him the doors had unlocked.  Ethan could feel without looking up that his movement was being watched.  A very short hallway led up to another pair of double doors.  There was another card reader; this time, a female voice spoke after he’d scanned it again.

“Yes?” She asked in a cultured, soft tone.

Ethan had read the short note explaining the protocol. If he did anything other than say the correct password, nothing would happen until someone came to escort him out.

It was just one word, but no one had said he couldn’t put it in a phrase.  Grinning up at where he guessed the camera watched, he spoke.

“I think you need a spanking.” He winked.

“We shall see, Sir.” Her voice teased back.  “Please, do come in and find me?”

The doors buzzed but were opened from inside by one of two large security-minded fellows.  They eyed him with quiet efficiency, and he nodded to fellow predators.  The walls and doors had been well-made because no sound had bled through them.  There was a deep, throbbing bass beat as music played in the distance.  The sound of soft chatter was also nearby.

“Bag.” One of the men spoke.  It hadn’t been a request.

Ethan handed over a small case he’d brought with him that had been in the valise.

It was opened, examined, and given back.

“Welcome.” The man told him with a nod of dismissal as he drew aside.  

Ethan left the small anteroom and opened the last door before entering the club proper.

The lights were low but bright enough to see what lay ahead.  To his right was a cafe or bar where people shared drinks and conversation.  To his left was a dance floor where all kinds of interesting gyrations were taking place.  He eyed the different choices in fashion with approval. 

This wasn’t a pleasure trip, though, so he switched his mental mode to what he did best – hunting.  As he scanned the assemblage, Ethan could quickly delineate the different players: dominants, submissives, and the in between.  Some of the submissives were more like sheep playing with wolves.  They exuded an air of naivety that pricked at his dominant side: collar fodder or subs too easy to take and who desperately needed experience and training.  They could also be called newbies.

No, he was looking for someone a little more like him. Red hair should be helpful, but so many women sported the color now that it was the new black. Ah, there she was! Samantha was at the bar talking to two men. The way she held herself told Ethan the two men had been trying to engage her for a while, but she was running circles around them. It was amusing her, and her eyes were beginning to look at them with a dominant gleam.  

He smiled.  

One or both men would think they were the dominants in the scene, but they would learn a powerful and probably painful lesson.  Don’t bite off more than you can chew.  They looked like chew toys from where Ethan stood.

Sauntering over to her position, he wasn’t worried she’d take notice of him.  He was putting out all the signs: easy confidence, arrogant stance, eyes of a hunter.  Samantha’s eyes were drawn to his and became speculative.  The two men took note and turned.

Ethan signaled for the bartender and gave Samantha a side-eye.  “I’ll just have a drink while you decide if you want to play with boys or a man.” He shrugged and ignored her.

The two men became annoyed and began to approach him.

“Teddy Bears, I’d stay away from this one,” Samantha warned them.  “He’s not the soft and cuddly type.  Fair warning.”

The two men looked at each other, then back at her.  Samantha’s eyes were only for Ethan, and she looked irritated at being ignored.  They were smart enough to know their game was over and went to seek easier pickings.

“God, I thought they’d never leave.” Samantha sighed and came to sit next to Ethan.

He didn’t turn to look at her.  “Come on, we both know you were toying with them until either something better came along or you took them both and gave them a big surprise.” He laughed.

“And what would that surprise be?” Her voice chilled.

“Well, one way to put it would be you don’t pull on a tigress’s tail and ever let go.  They’d already let go and didn’t know they were being circled.  You’d have made a meal of them.” He answered.

Samantha’s laugh was deep and rich.  “Just so.  It would have rocked their worlds and supposed dominant ideas.”

He nodded.  “From what I can see, you’re the only one worth the effort tonight.” He shrugged.  “I could be wrong.”

“You’re new.” Her voice sounded curious.  “Who is your Sponsor?”

No males were allowed into the club with a sponsor who would vouch for their conduct and answer for any problems.

Ethan mentioned the name of the person he’d called.  In his peripheral vision, he saw Samantha’s eyes widen.  “You actually know him?”

“I spent some time in Dubai, and we…hunted together, yes. Not that he needed to with his own harem,” Ethan answered.

“You’ve seen them?” Her voice took on an awed tone.  

“Yes, the stories are true.” He left it at that and let her fill in any blanks.

She grew quiet, and he could sense her inner agent trying to determine whether this was a set-up or not. He was too good to be true and just a little too slick with his approach. Ethan had known it would be this way, but trying to outfox another agent would take time. He had decided to be direct.

“Look, it could be a setup, it could not be.” He finally turned to look into her green eyes.  “But, I know what I can sense, and I’m pretty sure you can sense me as well.  The only question remains if you like the risk/reward odds.”  He arched an eyebrow.

While she pondered his words, he took stock of her and made no move to be subtle.  Samantha had an athletic build; however, her waist was trim to make her hips seem more ripe, and her breasts were not large but firm, rounded, and very aroused at the moment.  The red, gauze sheath she almost wore did nothing to cover up the two hardened nipples.  They hadn’t been that way before he’d arrived.

Her legs were long and toned, and they lasted for days. Ethan liked legs, but he liked what they led to even more. Unfortunately, she was sitting on the part he’d like to see the most, and it was a little early to command her to turn and bend over.

Samantha had been watching him evaluate her.  “Thoughts?” She teased him.

“Yes, I have some.” He teased back.

“Care to share?” She asked, then leaned closer until she touched his arm with hers.  “Please, Sir?” Her voice dipped.

Ethan cocked his head.  “Don’t say that unless you mean it, Little Girl.”

“I’m not a little girl, Sir.  I do sense you, so I think I mean it.  Do you?” She challenged him.

Ethan turned slightly and moved quickly.  He trapped her left nipple between his thumb and index finger.  “Well, I feel I should warn you.” He pinched slowly harder and began to twist.  “I’m not a nice man.”  His eyes bored into hers.

Samantha gasped but didn’t pull away or say a word.

Slowly, he let her go and heard her soft, shaking sigh.  Her body quivered.

“I’m…I’m not a good girl, Sir.” She whispered.  Her eyes were deep and heated.

Time to push on her CNC nerve.  He opened his right hand and showed his index and thumb close together.  “Give me your other nipple.  Now.” He quietly said.

She eyed him, his hand, then his eyes again, but she leaned forward until her nipple was placed where he’d commanded.  He gave it similar treatment.

Samantha’s gasp was softer, and a moan came from her as she leaned into his torture.  

“Would you like to beg me to do the other one too?” Ethan asked as if asking to pass a napkin.

Her eyes flashed.  “Please?”

“Have to do better than that.” He sounded displeased.

“Please, torture my other nipple, too, Sir?” She murmured in a quiet hiss.

“Give it to me.” He said and made her do the moving.

Samantha obeyed, and he enjoyed the nipple play with her.

“So about that risk/reward thing?” He asked her.

She was biting her lower lip as he’d twisted the other way.  Swallowing, her eyes came up to his with the beginnings of tears in them.  “I’ll take the risk, Sir.”

“Here or my hotel room?” He asked without letting go.

“What…what…what’s the difference?” She squirmed closer to him.  Her eyes begged him to kiss her or bite her.

“Hotel room means I’ll order breakfast from room service if you can still eat.” He smiled coldly.

“All night?” She whimpered.

He nodded.

She considered it.  The hotel room sounded more like a setup.  “Start here, then go there, Sir, please?”  Her eyes fell on his case.  “You brought toys anyway.”

He nodded.  “True.  Speaking of…” He abruptly let go of her nipples, and she let out a sharp bark of pain as the blood came back into them.  

He took out two nipple clamps attached to a chain.  “Put these on as I watch.  Show me how badly you want to continue.”

Her eyes grew confused.  “Don’t you want to…”

Ethan interrupted it.  “I already did.  I want to see you do it to yourself for my pleasure and do it here.  Those two men are watching.  I’d like them to see the tigress chained.”

Samantha’s eyes flashed. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll just go home then.  5….4…” he began to count.

Her eyes grew very angry, but she moved quickly to bare her breasts enough and applied the nasty clover clamps.  Her eyes grew distant, and her breathing shortened as they bit into her nipples. 

 “Oh, Sir.” She gasped and leaned forward a little as though losing her balance.

“Mmmhmm.” He nodded.  “Good girl.” He grabbed the chain and pulled slightly.  “Your quick obedience pleases me.”

She nearly glared at him.  “I hate it when there’s a countdown.”

“Most do, but it works, doesn’t it?” He showed her he wanted to hear an answer.

“Yes, Sir.” She whispered.

“Look in the case.” He commanded.

She did.

“You and that strap will become very well acquainted. I think you like the idea of being beaten, don’t you?” He pulled the chain a little more.

“Yes, Sir!” She bleated.  “Please…please.” Her eyes dripped soft tears.  “Please, hurt me, Sir.”

Still holding the chain, he pulled her with him through the crowd.  Some stopped their conversations to watch with mixtures of amusement, arousal, and surprise.  Ethan figured not many had seen Samantha so cowed before.  She moved docily behind him as he was directed to a dungeon room.

It didn’t take long to straddle her over a workhorse with her arms and legs bound to the legs of wood.  The sheath was cut from her with a nearby knife, and she only whimpered as he did it.  

Her face turned to watch him.  Her nipples were still clamped and hung down sweetly.  Ethan considered putting weights on them.  There’d be time later.  Now to business.

“Do you usually submit so quickly?” He asked.

She shook her head and croaked.  “No, Sir. That pinch…it…it…”

“Undid you?” He offered.

She nodded.  “Yes, Sir.  Did you know?”

“I guessed. I mean this as a compliment, you don’t suffer fools well.” He moved to a rack of implements that could be used.  Samantha needed a little prep work before the strap.

“I don’t.” She nodded.  “Are you an agent?” She finally asked.

“Yes.” He looked at her.  “Have you heard of the IMF?”

Her eyes widened.  “Yes, Sir.”  Her eyes widened more.  “No…you mean…”

“Ethan Hunt.  At your service.” He bowed.  “Well, not exactly.  You’re at my service.  Do you have any doubts? You’ll tell me everything?”

She swallowed.  “No, Sir.”

He paused and bent down to the level of her head. “Tell you what, you can tell me all of it now and agree to triple for us or…” He nodded to the rack behind her head.

Her face underwent a few changes as his words sank into her.  Samantha’s eyes twinkled.  “Don’t you want to beat me, Sir?”

Ethan laughed.  “You know I do.  I know you knew that already.”

“And I have read your File.” She grinned.

He groaned.  “I should get royalties or something.”

She giggled.  “I don’t think I’ll tell you a thing until I am…properly motivated, Sir.”

Ethan took the flogger off its hook.  “Well then…”

Slowly, he flogged her from the top of her shoulders to halfway down her thighs.  It was soft at first to awaken her skin and make it sensitive, then he returned and let it go.  

Her cries became louder and longer as he whipped her over and over and over again.  He paid special attention to her ass which was very lovely and bubbly.  He’d asked, and she whimpered that she spent lots of time on squats and stairmasters for this reason.  

Her body was deep, flaming red with small, darker spots around different areas.  They might turn to bruises but not welts.  The flogger he’d picked wouldn’t welt.  He wanted to prep her, but he had not marked her yet.

“Sam.” He called to her.  He’d renamed her during the whipping.

She jostled to awareness.  “Yes, Sir?” She murmured.

“Subspace nice?” He asked.

“Mmmmhmmm.” She cooed.

He began to unlock her wrists and ankles.

Sam sounded worried.  “Did I do something wrong, Sir?”

He laughed.  “Don’t worry, Little Sammy.  I’m not done with you yet.”

She visibly relaxed and let him lift her off the sawhorse.

“Call me old-fashioned, but I think bad girls need spanking.” He sat in a nearby chair and pulled her over his lap.

“Ohhhh…yessss. Sir.” She cooed.  “We do…we so do.”

Sam melted over his lap and his hand made quick work of spanking her lovely ass.  Ethan held nothing back now, and minor bruising marks were already starting to form.  The bag girl/good girl arched her ass higher even as she sobbed how sorry she was for being turned.  

“Tell me all about it.” He commanded.

She did in short bursts when she could breathe and wasn’t crying.  It had been for money, as usual.  It had been a lot of money.  He told her she’d keep collecting it, but would give information cleared by them now, before she gave it to the Chinese.  She nodded and vowed to do it.

Pausing, he let his hand enjoy the heat and smoothness of her bottom.  Squeezing hard and massaging it as he wanted, she squirmed a little under it, but was moaning softly and arching for a different reason this time.

His fingers deftly found and played with her wet and willing pussy.  He also took the opportunity to rim her little hole.  She groaned at that part, much louder than ever before.

“Hmm.” He mentioned.

“Yes, Sir.” She whispered.  “Please? Please…” She said the last with the voice that told him she was his now.  It was the true submissive voice a dominant learned to hear when a woman had chosen to submit it all.

“I suppose you’ll need a…handler.” He teased around her hole some more.

“I’ll need…firm handling, Sir.” She purred.

“Yes, you will.  Just to be sure…” He leaned over and grabbed the strap.

Ethan tapped it across her ass twice.  

Sam’s gasp and then wriggle told him all he needed to know.  She’d been waiting and hoping he hadn’t forgotten.  It was always a joy to find and have a deeply submissive masochist. 

He raised his hand and strapped her until she howled.  When it had been enough to please him, he took her limp form and bent it over the sawhorse once more, then took her hole hard and deep on her bruised and welted bottom.  

Like a good girl, she begged for her orgasm.  He only made her do it twice before he heard the sob in her voice and relented.  

Sam was a quiet lump in the passenger seat as Ethan drove her to his hotel.  He’d held her and caressed her until she’d come back to him.  “Master?” She’d finally whispered.  Her honorific for him had changed during their boisterous ride.

Softly, she’d begged to go to his hotel with him.  He’d agreed because she was an excellent woman to have with him.  As he was driving, an idea occurred to him that might make things easier on Andy.  He still remembered his promise to her.  

Her number rang twice.

“Good evening, Mr. Hunt.” Rachel’s voice cooed.

“I thought…” he began.

“I know what you thought.  Andrea or Andy, I hear, was told to give you this number.  Assignment finished?” She asked.

“Indeed.  She’s in the car with me.”  Ethan reported.

“Hmm.” Rachel laughed softly.  “I’d heard as much.  The two men she was toying with were agents.  Their button-cam footage was most…entertaining.”

“Would you like a personal performance?” He teased.

“God, no.” She retorted.  “It’s not why you think, though.”

Ethan was silent.  Rachel was going further than she ever had before.

“Ethan?” She asked.

“I’m here.  It isn’t what I think?” He asked.

“No.  I don’t care about work rules or what people would say.  Look over at your passenger a moment.” Rachel told him.

He did and saw her watching him with soft, relaxed eyes.  Sam didn’t care who he was talking to or why.  She just wanted to be with him and to be his.  A soft smile crossed her lips, and she blew a kiss.

“I could never be her and come back again, Ethan.  It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be her, but…I just…can’t.  I hope you’ll understand.” Rachel explained.

He did.  “I’m glad we both know our best roles then.”

“Exactly, Mr. Hunt.” She returned to a business voice.  “I’ll send Andy to the hotel for her…debriefment with you and Sam.”

“I thought this way it would be less likely to become a single obsession.” He told her.

“Good point and also a hell of a lot of fun, too, right?” She asked.

“That, too.  No one said I can’t enjoy work.” He laughed.

“You always seem to do so.  Andy will also have your next assignment.  She’ll be accompanying you to the Bahamas for some…reconnaissance. It should take a week or so.” Rachel said.  “To make up for interrupting your vacation.”

“What about Andy and…?” He asked.

Rachel laughed.  “That’s your problem, Ethan.  I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”