Deep Undercover Ch. 07

He watches me intently as I cross the room and walk straight toward him, my eyes never leaving his. I walk right up to him and plant a kiss on his lips. In my rusty German, I say, "Dieter, at last we meet." He looks at me, confused and says, "Sorry, ma'm, but I don't speak German. Do you speak any English." Awww...he's from the south. Even easier mark.

I put on my best German accent, "Oh! I'm so sorry! I'm supposed to be meeting a man here. You're not Dieter?"

"No, ma'am. My name is Glenn."

"Oh! I'm so embarrassed! I'll be going now."

"Wait, ma'am. At least let me buy you a drink."

Bingo. He orders two beers, without asking me, might I add, and downs his quickly. I take my time, having a sip or two. He's on his second (that I've seen, at least) when I decide it's time to make my move. I pretend to trip and fall into him, slipping my hand into his jacket pocket and retrieving his wallet. I laugh and pretend to be tipsy, "Oh excuse me! I think I need to go to the restroom. Don't go anywhere."

"Not a chance, ma'am," he smiles at me. I pretend to stumble a little to the restroom, striding normally once I hit the back hallway. I look in his wallet. Typical tourist carrying way too much cash. I take enough for train fare and leave the rest. I can access one of my private accounts that nobody knows about once I get to Paris. I head back into the bar and smile as I approach Glenn. I slide up next to him and drop his wallet back into his pocket.

"Well, Glenn, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I really must be going," I say.

"Wait! Not already! The night is young!" he calls to me as I turn and begin walking away.

I turn as I continue to walk, blowing him a kiss, and exit back into the crisp night air. I'm only a few blocks from the train station, so I walk quickly. It's only a matter of time before Gavin's goons catch up to me. I find the train station. It's a charming little building. I hope there's a train coming soon!

I march up to the window where a sleeping old man rests his cheek against the palm of his hand. "Excuse me, Sir?" I say in German. He's startled awake and glares at me. "I would like a ticket to Paris, the soonest possible train. One way," I ignore his groaning as he goes to work putting information into a computer. He more sighs than tells me the cost of the trip, as I hand him Glenn's money. He very aggressively counts out change, hands me a ticket and rests his hand back on his palm.

I check my ticket and see that the train is arriving within the hour. I have to change at Frankfurt, which will be risky. Gavin will have people checking major train stations, airports, etc. I'll have to lie low. I find the ladies room and hide myself in a stall until the train should be arriving.

At five to arrival, I take a deep breath, listen carefully and emerge from my stall. I glance myself in the mirror. I look tired, drained and weak. I don't have the energy to fight anyone, so I hope I don't have to. I slowly open the restroom door, looking in all directions. This time of night there aren't many people in the station. Not much of a crowd to disappear into. I decide being casual will draw the least attention. I fling the door open and march out to the platform just as the train is approaching.

As it comes to a stop, I board the train, find an empty compartment and close the door behind me. I pull the curtains closed just enough so that I can keep a watchful eye. After a short time, the train starts moving again. I wait for the conductor to come by to check my ticket, and I lock the door behind him as he leaves. I can finally relax a little. I close my eyes and am greeted by images of Alex. My pussy aches as I remember him tightly securing me in cuffs, pushing his cock between my lips, sliding the riding crop between my legs. Then I see him slumped on the floor over the broken coffee table. And suddenly my ache turns to a tremble and cold and I curl up and fall asleep.

Finally...Paris! Gare de l'Est is a beautiful old station. The trip had been smooth and without incident. The transfer at Frankfurt had been quick enough that I didn't have to worry about finding a place to hide from view in the station.

I find the pay phones and dial. I tap my fingers nervously. Please answer. Please answer. Finally I hear a familiar voice "Bonjour?"

I can't contain my smile as I say, "Bonjour, Antoine! Ca va?"

"Ca va bien, you crazy American bitch!" he laughs. "Where the hell have you been!? I haven't heard from you in months!"

"Je suis tres desolee, Antoine! It's been a little crazy. Listen, I'm in Paris."

"You are!? Fabulous!"

"Can you meet me with my key? It's an emergency."

"I don't hear from you for months and then you call asking for your key?"

"Antoine, I love you, but this really is an emergency."

"Oui, Madison, you bitch. Where are you?"

"Gare de l'Est."

"Meet me at Cafe de Flore in the 6^th Arrondissement. One hour."

"Thank you, Antoine. See you there."

I arrive early and find a seat outside on the busy corner of St. Germain. After an hour and my second cafe crème Antoine came strolling up with a huge smile on his face, "Madison, ma belle!"

I stand and take Antoine's hands and we kiss each other on the cheeks. I motion for him to sit and wave to the waiter to bring another cafe crème for him. "Antoine, it's so so lovely to see you."

"Oui, Madison. And you as well. Even if you are only calling me for a favor."

"Now, dear Antoine, you know if I was in Paris on holiday it would be an entirely different story. The truth is that I need to hide. Gavin found me and brought me back to Europe. But he has people on the inside who want to help. I need to find them and end this once and for all."

Antoine's smile fades and his eyes grow sad, "I'm here for you, Madison. What can I do? Come stay with me."

"No, no, dear Antoine. I would never put you or Phillipe in harm's way. I love you both too much. You're my favorite gay husbands."

"We'd better be your only gay husbands, you tramp! Here, take your key. I'll put you in a cab myself. Are you ok to stay and have a coffee and something to eat with me at least?"

I smile for the first time in days, "Of course, Antoine. I would love that."

An hour later, we were kissing each other's cheeks again and Antoine was putting me into a cab, telling the driver to take me to tan address on Avenue Fremiet and telling me to call him if I need anything at all. About twenty minutes later I was being dropped off in front of the familiar and charming apartment building. It's been years since I've been here.

I look down at my key and up at the dark windows and start my journey up to the steps to the sixth floor. I put my key in the lock, walk in and turn on the light. Everything is exactly as I left it all those years ago. The cleaning service that I hired has clearly been doing their job.

I lock the four locks on the door and strip off my clothes as I walk to the bathroom. I turn on the shower and step in, letting the hot water fall over me like a cleansing rain. Then I see him. His piercing blue eyes, his mouth, his hands. Alex. I can't hold it back any more. I begin to sob uncontrollably and sink to the shower floor. I pull my knees up to my chest and bury my head between them. The hot water falls over me for so long that it starts to turn cold, but I don't care. I can finally let go and feel everything that I've wanted to for days.

I pull on the rope that's wrapped around my wrists and holding my hands above my head. Everything is black. I can't even see a hint of light through the thick blindfold. My mouth is full, a rubber ball gag taking up every inch of space. I can feel his hot breath on my ear as his finger slides between my thighs and finds my clit, "There's no sense in trying to wriggle, little slut. You're exactly how I want you and you aren't going anywhere. You love it, don't you? Being my little whore, Madison?" I nod my head.

He continues, "Good girl. Do you want to come little girl?" He slides a finger deep inside of me and I let my head fall back against his shoulder. He slides it in deeper and fucks my wanting hole slowly. I moan through the gag, panting in heat. Please don't stop, Sir.

He pulls his finger out and I feel empty as he moves it back up to my clit. He rubs it gently and then faster and faster. "That's it, little girl. You want a finger fucking you again, don't you?" I nod.

"Would you like two? Do you think you deserve two, whore?" I nod faster.

"I'm not sure you deserve two." He moves his fingers back down to my aching cunt. Without warning, he thrusts two fingers deep inside of me and fucks hard and fast. I grip the rope above me as my body tenses up, my orgasm building quickly. Oh...Sir...I'm going to come.

"Not yet, whore. You wait until I tell you. That's it..." Oh god...I can't hold it much longer! "Hold it. Not yet....Ok come hard for your Master!"

I sit up and find that I'm alone in my bed in my Paris apartment, dripping with sweat...and at my pussy. I'm completely out of breath and push the hair matted to my face back. It was a dream. And with that realization, my sadness returns. I check that my gun is still wedged under my mattress. Then I lie down, pull the blanket around, me and cry myself to sleep.

I am up early the next morning to head to Saint-Chapelle. If there's any hope of help there, I have to find it. I finish buttoning the black belt that I've put around the flowing beige coat that's partially covering my calf-length emerald green dress. I select a pair of nude heels from my closet and grab a pair of big sunglasses and a black clutch, which is hiding my gun. The best way to hide is right out in the open. I march out of the door, careful to lock it behind me, down the stairs and into the sunlight. I hail a cab to Saint-Chapelle. It's going to be full of tourists, so it shouldn't be too hard to blend with the crowd.

Even this early there's a line that's started, but it moves quickly and before I know it I have my ticket in hand and am making my way into the impressive room. The sun filters through the blues and reds of the beautiful stained glass. I can't help but feel a bit of peace.

I stroll around the space, finding a seat at the glass illustrating the Book of Esther. It seems appropriate given the pain that I've been privy to these past few days. I open the guide book that the girl at the front desk gave me and read all about the various sections of the church.

"Some glass, isn't it?" a distinctly American accent says.

"I'm sorry?" I heard him, but want to be sure that the portly, white-haired gentleman to my left was speaking to me.

"The glass, it's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Oh...yes. It's stunning."

"They say the late morning light that hits the glass at the Pyramide du Louvre is even more stunning," with that, he nods , stands and walks away.

Was that my contact? I sit for a few more moments, just to be absolutely sure that I'm not reading to much into a kind old man's idle chit chat. After sitting for about fifteen more minutes, I decide that I need to head to the Louvre. I can walk from here in less than twenty minutes.

I cross the Pont Neuf and follow the Seine until I reach the busy Place du Carrousel. As always, it's crowded with tourists from around the globe. I walk past a family of four, the parents arguing over the map in Spanish. I pass a couple of college girls who've wrangled another tourist into taking a photo of them, their arms outstretched in celebration of their newfound freedom. I pass a woman crying as the man she loves is on his knee extending a ring to her, which she more-than-happily accepts. I'm elated for them, but I'm sad too.

Suddenly I stop. I feel as if I'm being watched. I spin around, examining the crowd carefully. I don't see anyone, but I can't shake this feeling. Fuck. Gavin. He's here. I stroll more quickly toward the pyramid, finding a spot on the northwest side where I can see the light coming through the glass.

I wait for what seems hours, but is only about ten minutes, pacing back and forth. I stop pacing to check my watch and I feel a tug at the hem of my skirt. I look down to find a little boy, about five years old smiling up at me. "Bonjour, petit garcon," I have to assume he's French, but who knows? Without a word, he reaches up toward me and hands me a folded note. Then he giggles and runs back toward the pyramid. I watch him find his way to a worried-looking father, who scoops him up in his arms, scolding him.

I unfold the note to find a time and place: Parc de la Villette. Folly in the Prairie du Cercle Sud. Noon.

I start making a mental map of the city in my head. The Parc de la Villette is in the 19^th Arrondissement. I can take the Metro, but it won't get me there in time. I'll have to take a cab. It takes way too much time to finally hail one. These tourists are like vultures!

With minutes to spare, I'm running in my heels along the Galerie de l'Ourcq. I see a few people milling around, but the Parc is is so spread out that it never feels very crowded. I finally reach the folly and slow my stride. I step onto the bright red metal platform and walk to the railing that overlooks the field below. There are people sunning and kids playing. So peaceful. I don't see anyone approaching, so I turn and lean my back against the railing. Am I at the right folly?

My eye catches a bright white piece of paper against the bright red metal. I'm sure it's just an advertisement or a lost puppy, but I may as well check it. Le Bar. George V. One hour. I roll my eyes. Will this wild goose chase never end? Off I go!

Hours later I've been all over Paris. I've been to the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, Jardin des Plantes, Le Musee des Arts Forains. And here I find myself standing in Montmarte looking up at the Sacre Coeur dome. The sun his starting to set and I can hear thunder in the distance, although it's a beautiful evening. The entrance to the dome is outside of the basilica. There's a door that looks like an obvious choice. I approach it and turn to look around. No one's watching. Pulling my lock picking tools from my pocket, I go to work using them behind my back, so as not to attract attention. I feel the lock give way within minutes. Some security.

I start up the hundreds of steps that lead to the top, careful not to be seen, as a lot of them are on the outside of the building. It seems to take ages to reach the top, but I am determined. After all that I went through today, there had better be help at the top of these stairs.

At the top, the corridor surrounding the interior dome is tight, but the view of the sunset over Paris is spectacular! I don't hear a sound. I can't possibly be alone up here. Not after all of that.

I complete a full two laps around the dome. Nobody. It was all for nothing. I sigh and look out over Paris. I see lights coming on below and the Eiffel Tower starting to sparkle. I feel a tear welling up and then a knot in my stomach as it occurs to me that perhaps this wasn't help at all. Perhaps this was Gavin this whole time, leading me like a puppet. Watching me dance...just like he always did.

Then I feel it. Someone is standing not five feet from me on my right side. I don't know how they snuck up on me, but they did. I turn quickly, ready for a fight, ready to defend myself. And I find myself staring into his icy but warm blue eyes.

"Alex...?" I can barely say his name. All at once my heart hurts and is leaping for joy. My knees feel weak.

"Hello, Madison. Breathe, baby, steady yourself," he comes toward me to help me, but I hold out my hand, motioning for him to keep his distance.

"How are you..." I can't find the words to speak.

"Alive? Well, your friend, Richard-"

"Don't you dare call him my friend ever again!"

His face softens, "I'm sorry. I can't imagine what you've been through these last few days. That asshole, Richard, mistook someone else for me." He winks.

"But...but I saw you. I saw you, Alex!"

"Did you really, Madison? Or did you just see what your worst fears wanted you to see?"

I feel like a fool. My emotions got the best of me, made me ignore my training and see exactly what I expected to see without questioning it, "Oh."

"Do you believe me now, Madison? That everything you've believed to be true is nothing more than a lie meant to keep you under Gavin's thumb? That he still pulls your strings, only you don't know it?"

"Yes, Alex. You were right. All this time...I've been such a fool," I feel the tears welling up inside of me again.

"There's no point in crying, Madison. You're stronger than they are. You finally know who you are. You know what you want. The question is...right now, are you strong enough to admit it? Are you strong enough to submit to it?"

"What do you mean?" I'm so confused, but his words fill me with strength.

"If you want my help, Madison, if you want me, enough of this playing. You're going to submit yourself to me, once and for all. You're going to give yourself over to me, to be mine, to be owned by me. You'll submit yourself to behave the way that is expected of a good submissive. You'll be mine to use as I see fit, when I see fit. You'll be respectful and call me, Sir or Master, always, unless we are outside and around others not in the lifestyle. You'll receive punishments and tasks and you will fulfill them. If you don't follow my instructions, you'll be punished to remind you what is expected. In return, I'll give you protection, affection and most of all...love. I'm in love with you, Madison. I have been for some time. But this is the way I want us to be, and I know that, deep down, it's what you want to, isn't it, pet?"

I'm dumbfounded and speechless. I look out over Paris. I look at the brilliant colors of the sunset filling the sky. All the while I look deep inside myself. It is what I want. I take my weight off of the railing. I'm strong enough to hold myself up. I look Alex in the eyes and say, "Yes, Sir, it's what I want. More than anything."

Alex visibly stifles a smile, "Good. Then get down on your hands and knees and crawl to me, sub."

I look at him confused, "Crawl? Here?"

"You're forgetting yourself already, sub. Do you require a punishment right here and now?"

"No, Sir," I stammer as I gently drop to my knees.

"Good girl. Now crawl to me. This is to show your submission, Madison." I do as he says and crawl to him. I can feel the flush of my face and I'm breathing deeply. My pussy has never been wetter than it is at this moment, this moment that I give myself to him. I reach his feet and stop, waiting for him to tell me what to do next.

"Good girl. Now up. Kneel with your hands behind your back. Eyes down."

I do as he says. The stone is cold beneath my knees, and the contact between it and my kneecaps hurts. He strokes my hair and says, "I've wanted this since the day that we met, Madison. You on your knees at my feet, by choice. You're going to obey me, little girl. Always. And be proud to know that you're mine, owned and protected and loved. And you love me too, don't you, Madison?"

"May I look up, Sir?" I ask, timidly.

"You may."

I lift my head and he pushes the hair from my face and smiles down at me. I take a deep breath, finally ready to admit what I've felt no matter how soon or how crazy. After a few moments of silent staring I say, "Yes, Sir, I do love you."

His smile widens as he looks down at me, "Good girl. Now let's go home. I have a lot of plans for us tonight."