Tycoon - Cover

Tycoon

Copyright© 2009 by Raven Soule

Chapter 107

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 107 - A lottery win leads to a new life, women, assassination attempts and slaves. Suddenly I am living in 'interesting times'.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/Fa   Fa/ft   Consensual   Slavery   Incest   Mother   Sister   Daughter   Spanking   Light Bond   Harem   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Slow  

Sunday

Three Days To Go

Martinè

We leave for Strasbourg today, but I wanted to sharpen up my personal defence skills a little first.

I whipped round my arm and let the marble fly. It smashed through the centre of the target twenty five feet away. I was pleased that I still had the knack.

I had risen early today, swam my lengths and now I was down at the ranges practising. I'd cut a new length of soft leather for a belt / sling and was getting comfortable using it. Every sling is slightly different. And if you're going into danger, then you had better know what the differences are with the sling you're carrying.

Now why did I think about going into danger?

I took five more marbles out of my pocket and picked up the free end of my sling again. 'Just a few more, ' I thought.

The rest of the targets were soon shredded.


Jenny stopped me before I could enter the breakfast room.

"Boss, our reporter is in there. And you're not supposed to know anything about her," she said.

"Thanks, Jenny." I held open my arms, and she came to me straight away. "How are you, precious girl?"

"Busy, my Master. But I always have time for whatever you need, Master," she looked up at me hopefully.

"Do you have time for breakfast?" I asked.

"Of course, Master. This girl would be honoured."

I took her hand and led her into the dining room.

"Morning everyone," I said as we entered.

I received mumbled replies from most there, but a man stared open mouthed at me, I remembered him, Albert Drummond. I wondered if...

"My God, you're supposed to be dead!" Bertie cried.

"Hi Bertie, haven't seen you since..." I thought for a few moments.

"Kosovo," said Bertie.

"That's right, Kosovo," I remembered the place vividly, from the looks of it, so did Bertie.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Great, we'll have to get together for a chat about old times."

And I knew just what old times he wanted to talk about. How come I'm still alive, when he'd reported my death in a roadside ambush?

I sat, Jenny taking her place at my side, and waited for my breakfast. The chef usually saw who was with me, and, now anyway, wouldn't give me anything that might harm my girls. She usually gave me something that my girl would like.

This morning's breakfast plate was no exception. There were two pieces of black pudding on it, though they had been placed in their own side dish, so as not to contaminate the rest of the food. I hated black pudding, so they must be for Jenny.

I gave Jenny her first piece of food, the black pudding, of course, and watched as she hungrily ate. Jenny really did like the stuff. Ah, well, no accounting for taste.

"Paul, I'd like to introduce my lover, Sally Kinsman. Sally, this is Paul..." he stopped, obviously waiting for me to give him the surname I was currently using.

"Winters," I answered, reaching across the table to shake her hand.


I looked around my bedroom. I had dressed in clothes that had been laid out for me; my girls were packing, and I was getting in the way. Then my phone rang. Helen gave it to me.

"Paul, you're getting in the way, leave the girls to get on with what they're doing," It was Sasha, of course. Who else would they get to make me do something?

"Hi, darling, how are you?" I asked as I sauntered out of the room.

There was a short pause, "Better now that the girls can get on without being interrupted all the time." Then she laughed.

"Can you see me then?" I asked.

"Of course I can. Wave to me then," she demanded.

I waved, then blew her a kiss.

"I love you too, my precious man. I've sent two reporters over for their safety. Have you seen them yet?"

"Yes, and I know one of them, Bertie Drummond, he and I were in Kosovo together."

"Well, don't forget that you're not supposed to know anything about them." Sasha really did sound concerned.

"I won't my precious. Although, I think that Bertie has other things on his mind."

"Oh? And what might they be?"

"Well, the last time he saw me, I was pretending to be dead..."

Sasha's laugh interrupted me. "Oh, Paul, that could only have happen to you."

I joined in her laughter.

"Now why don't you go and do something useful like cuddle Susan or maybe take a walk into the village and see who wants to share afternoon delight with you?"

"I think cuddling Susan is the best idea."

"Good, well go on then, don't hang around."

"Will do, you're the Boss." I replied with a laugh.

Sasha's voice softened, "No, my Master, you're the Boss. I'm just one of your girls and I'm trying to look after you."

That brought a tear to my eye.

"And I really appreciate what you do for me, my Lady."

"So, will you let the girls get on with the packing?" she asked.

"Yes, Darling, and I'll see if I can get some Susan time too."

We said our goodbyes and hung up.


The poolside was getting a little crowded; Susan and Kaine were being fed. By their mothers. I was please to see. Eric was swimming widths, more splashing than movement. And Bertie & Sally were sharing a table to one side, heads together talking quietly.

Bertie saw me and called me over.

I grabbed a spare chair as I passed, and sat opposite them.

"Hi, Bertie, nice to see you, but what are you doing here?" I asked.

He gave a short laugh, "Hiding, and that's the truth. Ms Dempsey sent us here to protect us," he gestured towards Sally, "from some powerful people that Sally is about to expose."

"People who think that they're above the law?" I asked.

"People who are the law." Bertie replied.

"Oohhh, that kind of people."

We spent the next hour or so talking about old times. I told them about my lottery win, and they told me about Sally's scoop. I hope that I 'oohhh'd' and 'arrr'd' in the right places.


Umber disturbed me as Susan and I were having a post-breakfast nap. I was relaxing in a lounger and Susan lay, slowing dribbling, on my chest.

"My Master," she said softly.

I looked up and noticed that she was in her caped travelling suit.

"Is it time to go?" I asked.

Umber smiled as Julia lifted Susan off me and then wiped my jumper. She helped me into a jacket and then I kissed Susan and Julia goodbye.


The flight to Baden-Baden was short and routine. From there the drive to Strasbourg was easy. Our small motorcade passed over the river and then into the city centre. Through some narrow streets and then down into an underground car park. I noticed two of Elastic's marines standing guard with a couple of the local police. All were armed although the marines had their side arms in a fast-action-grab, or FAG, bag.

The hotel we're booked into overlooked a short tree-lined boulevard. On the left, I knew, though I couldn't see it, was the local branch of the Bank of France. Only a little further along the street, on the same side was the Banque du Commerce, the bank I wanted to buy.

My girls were getting our suites organised. We had the entire top two floors of the hotel; my suite was at the front of the building overlooking the boulevard. Umber, of course, was charging round making sure that everything was just right. I just tried to stay out of the way.

I saw Sandra walking by looking a little lost. So I grabbed her.

"I've got you at last, innocent child!" I cried in my best dastardly villain voice. "Bwahahaha!!!"

"Oh no!" cried one of the girls in mock horror.

"Please, Sir, do not abuse me so!" Sandra cried. This might have sounded better if she hadn't reached up to her shoulder and unclipped something that held her dress up. I now had a naked victim in my clutches. Bwahahaha.

I 'dragged' my, surprisingly willing, victim to my bed and threw her down. The other girls in the room looked on almost enviously.

Sandra and I lay just cuddling and touching. I knew that my taking her away from the work would actually speed up the jobs, as I wouldn't be getting in the way. Ah well, I suppose I'll just have to suffer lying here with my arms full of naked woman.

It's a hard life, but somebody's got to do it.


London

Sir Gerald returned his phone to his pocket and turned back to the men. "He's just arrived in Strasbourg. As I told you yesterday, he's staying at the 'Europe.' He is, of course, quite heavily protected. There are at least 30 of his marines there as well."

"They're just girls," sneered the Moroccan.

Sir Gerald looked at him impassively. This didn't faze the Moroccan at all.

"The locals have persuaded the Mayor to take him to lunch on Wednesday. The restaurant they'll use is here," he pointed at the map. "It's only two hundred meters from his hotel and one hundred and fifty from the Hotel de Ville, so they'll almost certainly walk. These roads are narrow and there isn't any parking closer than the Hotel de Ville. We have planned the attack like this..."


Sasha picked up the phone's receiver. There wasn't a dial or number pad on this one. It was a 'Karolina special.' She slipped the special DVD into the slot at the base of the phone and waited.

"Hello, Sasha," Ela answered.

"Did he get away on time?" Sasha asked.

Ela laughed, "With Umber hurrying him along, yes."

Sasha too laughed at the thought of Umber pushing a protesting Paul out of the Chateau and onto a plane. "And 'Big-Nick'?" she asked.

Ela grew serious now. "Even better than we'd hoped for. Karolina cracked their last encryption yesterday and we've uncovered about another twenty percent."

"WOW!" Sasha was very impressed.

"Yeah, wow," agreed Ela. "You should have seen us here when she opened up the financial files. That really was WOW!"

It was Sasha's laughed again, "I bet it was. OK, keep me informed."

Sasha hung up, then she sat back in her seat and started thinking. Wednesday was going to be busy, where should she actually be, here or Martinè? After long thought, she decided, that her place was here, in London.


The duty meteorologist smiled as he saw the plots coming in from the ships and planes crossing the Atlantic. The threatened low pressure was dissipating and a large high pressure region was moving in from the south. He turned to his colleague, "My flight's going to be as smooth as silk on Wednesday, there's a lovely high pressure over the whole region."

This news, when broadcast, would please a lot of people, and not all of them would be flying across the Atlantic Ocean.


"Burton," Steven listened attentively to his superior, "You've met her," there was no need for names; they both knew who they were talking about. "What's she like?"

Burton, not his real name of course, but it had been years since he'd used his real name. He wasn't sure if he could even write his old signature any more, thought for a moment. Considered answers were preferred to wrong ones. "She is direct, says what she means, and means what she says. Very, very intelligent, her IQ is almost off the scale, but that intelligence has been hampered by a state education. She is tenacious, loyal, innovative, very fit and energetic. She gives her best in everything she does. In her new post she'll really make a valuable contribution. She'll be the best FONT we've had for nearly a century."

"And what about," he gestured at a map on the table between them, "that?"

Burton took his time, his superior didn't hurry him, accuracy was far more important than speed now. "She'll work it out. Ms Dempsey and Bands are very good friends. The next time she comes over to London, she'll visit Dempsey's office and have a look for herself. If she doesn't figure it out, then the Viscount will. Admiral Weston is very impressed by him. He says that 'Winters' can see through a brick, given time.'"

The superior thought for a while, there were a number of thing to take into account here, not least the age of some of the people in the know. "Are they reliable, are they sound?"

Burton didn't have any hesitation this time, "Yes, all of them are."

There was a long period of silence as the superior made his decision, "Go and see Dempsey, if she accepts the conditions, then you can explain everything to her. Each of the three of them must accept the conditions before they get the explanation though."

"The Viscount and Ms Dempsey are getting married," said Burton.

His superior smiled, "She's a Countess, isn't she?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Equivalent to our Earl. I like Winters, he's my kind of man, does what he thinks is right, and doesn't care what anyone else thinks. You can give him the good news of his elevation when you see him. Can't have the bloody foreigners out-ranking us, can we now?" He looked across at the third person in the room, she just look at him over her glasses, and smiled.

"Off you go now, I want this settled by tomorrow evening, we can't have this," again he gestured to the map, "under threat. It's too important."

"Yes, Sir," said Burton as he gave a little bow and walked quickly out of the room.


Martinè

"Admiral, I think you should see this," Gerry reported.

"Call me Boss," said Elastic tiredly as she followed Gerry back into the surveillance control centre. It had been a long day.

"Yes, Admiral," Gerry replied.

"What have you got?" Elastic asked.

"We've had SkyDog going over the Boss's new territory, and we found this," answered Gerry pointing at a large monitor.

'This' was a man slowly walking along one of the country lanes, then he suddenly disappeared.

"What!" exclaimed Elastic.

"We found him early this morning. He'll reappear in a few minutes; we think he's checking to see if he's been followed."

About five minutes later, the man reappeared. He quickly skirted the field and entered a small copse. They followed his progress on the infra-red camera monitor for another minute and then his image disappeared.

"He's in his hide now. Soon he'll start venting his heat over here," Gerry pointed to another part of the copse. Another two minutes and the infra-red camera picked up a diffuse heat source where Gerry had indicated.

"What's he doing?" Elastic asked, hardly expecting a reply.

"Well, look at his approach line to his hide," Gerry typed for a moment and two red lines were superimposed on the monitor. "We think he's covering our weak spot."

"Oscar!" Elastic exclaimed. "That's Oscar Liemann, what's he doing here?"

Gerry laughed, "Looking after his Lady Love?"

Elastic smiled, "I bet he doesn't know she's in Strasbourg."

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