Chapter 6

Michael Forsyth leaned against the balcony rail and hoisted a pair of neck-suspended binoculars. He focused on an ancient freighter tied among non-descript freighters in the busy Hong Kong harbor below. It was the sixth time in the past half hour he had examined the shipboard activity on that particular vessel. Dropping the glasses he inhaled on a cigarette he held pinched between his fingers and then flipped it out into the street six blocks below.

He was known as Michael Forsyth in the Orient. That was one of many names he used here and in Europe. The name recorded on his birth certificate back in the States had no relevance to the business he was involved in.

Again lifting the glasses he slowly panned down the length of the vessel. He lowered the glasses to light another cigarette. His chain smoking was the only expression of pressure he ever exhibited.

Within the hold of that ship, packed in boxes labeled "construction equipment" was a large quantity of armaments meant for the Nationalist Chinese forces. The current political situation had created a shortage in the market and Forsyth had made a fortune in just such opportunities,

. When the British Customs were off the ship and he could transport the cargo to his warehouse then he would consider the job done. He had reviewed and considered every possible contingently. The British bureaucrats were paid off and these final steps should be simple routine. But, Forsyth never trusted "routine".

He stood upright and turned away from the harbor activity. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and smiled. He had developed the ability to handle stressful times by emptying his mind of pending concerns and refocusing on other matters. He was thinking about his nephew.

He wondered if John had discovered the trap he had left for him. Forsyth manipulated people; it was one of his fascinations. Leaving the youth in his home without a challenge would be too much like leaving him with the keys to a brothel. He wanted to see what John was truly made of.

Forsyth knew John's all-American boy personality and Ingrid would invariably clash. Like oil and water the two would never mix.

He had known Ingrid for many years, but other another name. Forsyth had a very unique ability to quickly pickup new languages and assimilate himself seamlessly into foreign cultures. He had been working with the American Foreign Service off and on since the mid-thirties. He first met "Ingrid" in the late thirties when she was with her father, the German ambassador to France. Then in the closing days of the war he had seen her name on a very secret SS document.

During the war he had been in France as liaison between the Allies and the French resistance. He had been with that group when the contact had been made from Germany. A cadre of highly placed Nazi Government officials wanted asylum and were ready to pay gold for it.

He had arranged for her escape to Venezuela. Several years later he had arranged a new identity for her and brought her to the States. Her eccentricities amused him and he found her company a refreshing shift from the postwar blandness of America

Lisa had also come into his life during that period. He had been in Rome during the peacetime Allied occupation. His ability to speak Italian had placed him in a position of negotiations during the restructuring of a new government. He had met secretly with several Mafioso who wanted to deal.

The meeting had reached an impasse and Forsyth had stood, turned his back on the men and walked to an open window. Looking out into the bustling street below he had seen a nun leading a group of uniformed girls across the square. Lisa had stood out from the group like a beacon. That the cool American had seen something causing his head to turn alerted the old Don who stood and looked out the window. The old criminal smiled when he saw the object of Forsyth's attention.

Lisa had been the "sweet" added to the deal that was finally completed. Forsyth left Rome with her and a telegraph from Geneva stating that a large deposit had been made to his account. The Mafia was given access to the new government.

Forsyth's reverie was broken by the approach of soft footsteps. A naked Chinese girl knelt at his feet and held up a saucer and cup of tea to him. "Tea, Master?" she asked softly in Cantonese. She was very young and beautiful. She had been a gift from a local warlord for Forsyth's influence with an American Oil firm.

"Thank you sweet flower, ' he replied in flawless Cantonese.

My lounge chair jerked and disturbed my nap. I opened my eyes and reoriented myself. I was laid out naked in the penthouse's solarium on the roof of the building. It was a warmly brilliant afternoon, seemingly meant for nothing but complete relaxation.

I looked down between my outstretched legs to determine what had disturbed my repose. The naked Lisa was on her knees was at the end a silver linked leash, which ran from her neck collar to a clip on the arm of my chair. The chair again jerked slightly as she attempted to reach a massive law book which just beyond her fingertips.

Other such books surrounded her. Some books where stacked and others were opened to whatever she was researching. She caught the edge of the out-of-reach book with her fingernails and pulled it to her. With a satisfied smile she sat back on her heels and hoisted the book onto her lap. She turned her head to me, sensing my attention and gave me a lovely smile.

She used a pair of reading glasses for the fine print in the texts. The glasses were perched on the end of her nose and she looked at me over the rims. She had her long hair tied in a very loose bun on top of her head. Several loose strands curled on her forehead. She had rubbed oil over herself and she gleamed in the sun. I noticed several beads of perspiration clung to her large outthrust breasts.

"I thought you would never wake up," she said brightly, "Look what I have found." She ran a finger across a page leaving a slight oil smudge on the paper. She then began a legal discourse worthy of a practicing attorney. I lay my head back and immediately lost interest. This particular argument, which dealt with an obscure facet of the law, had been ongoing for days now. I was on vacation I told myself. I had planned to take the bar exam next winter and considered myself on summer break. I had found the past weeks every bit as challenging as the final year of law school.

I had come to realize that Lisa had a quick-minded genius coupled with a boundless energy. She would focus on a problem until she had worked it out. My uncle had not left me in this situation simply for my youthful stud services. Although I would concede the time we spent on law was balanced by our sexual escapades. Lisa could focus her entire attention on what she enjoyed.

The past few weeks had been wonderful. Lisa and I had become very close. I had to discipline my heart. I had never been in romantic love before and this relationship with her was like being perched at the edge of a bottomless chasm. I had to concentrate on maintaining an emotional detachment from her.

Her insistent voice intruded on my thoughts. "See right here... in 1949... Smith vs. Smith... the court decided... " I reached down and tugged her leash pulling her to me. She looked up briefly then scooted on her knees between my spread legs. Holding the book she continued reading out loud.

She would order these books by phone and a very extensive law library would deliver them the next day. Her tutored classes had a scholarship level and I thought she could compete at any Ivy League school. I received a shock one day when I noticed one of her teachers leaving. I had seen his picture before as author of one of the more highly regarded texts of the day.

She walked her fingers up my leg stopping to squeeze my thigh as she emphasized the point she was making. I felt my groin stir.

She stopped reading and looked at me. "See? It is as exactly as I said!" she told me, delighted with herself. She began reading out load again to me.

I tugged the leash again, taking in the slack so she was pulled toward my crotch. She looked up and noticed my semi-erect cock bobbing before her. "Oh," she said. She pushed her glasses up her nose and leaned forward to take the head of my cock in her mouth. I spread my thighs, smiled and laid my head back. After a moment I felt the hot suction leave my penis and heard a wet "pop" as her lips left the gland. "But, listen to this," she said. Holding the book in one hand she slowly stroked my cock with the other. She began reading where she had left off.

I abruptly interrupted her discourse. "You know that birch switch that hangs by itself on the wall in the punishment room? Do you think that would leave blister-welts on someone?" I stared up into the clouds as if in deep thought.

She stopped reading. I could feel her stare. Although our relationship had developed a closeness that permitted much play and back and forth foolish interaction, she was aware of a cruel side in me that kept her watchful.

"I would not know, but I think someone would have to be particularly sadistic to use that," she said primly. But she set aside the book then ran her hands up around my hips. She slid forward rubbing her full, oiled, firm breasts against my inner thighs. She grasped my rising cock and pulled it to her lips. She slowly lowered her mouth until her nose was buried in my pubic hair. We had practiced in the past weeks until she was able to take all of me.

I thought to myself that life was grand. I reclined further in the chair so my hips were at the edge of the chair.

"Lower little slave," I said. "Go way down"

She slowly brought her mouth up my penis, stopping at the end to slowly bob her head. I brought my head up and watched her. She looked delightful with her beautiful face, reading glasses and my large cock stretching her puckered lips. Sliding her hand across me she grasped the cock and gently let me slide from her lips as she rolled her tongue around the mushroom head. We exchanged glances as if she was going to test my resolve, and then she rolled her eyes. She took off her glasses and set them aside. Then she slowly lowered her head, tongue-lapping the full length of my penis to my testicles. I felt her gently kissing and rolling my balls in her mouth.