Her Word is Her Bond

"It's actually a little complicated. A layout was uncovered, breaking up London into several parts, like districts; it's possible the plan never went beyond conceptual, but it may lead to uncovering something else. M said there was potential activity in a north-west district of E, and across the city in S, but M suggested turning our attention to E and R. I think Z, E, and D should take precedence. What's more interesting is this concept matches movements we've been following all over the city. From the center of downtown, labelled M, certain cars have been tracked to E and R. M is really fixated on E and S. I followed up on Z, traveling all the way to E, but returning to D. If I didn't know any better, I'd say there was a code there, something we're missing. What do you think? Is there a pattern there that resonates with you?"

He would've asked why she gleefully gave him a riddled code to break, as if she queried a child's trick question. He would've asked, but his mind was already trying to put the pieces together, and he wondered why it felt like he was fading as he started to work out an answer. The line went dead-silent for long moments. Moneypenny teasingly waved a hand in-front of her agent's face; she wondered if he was already far gone enough that her suggestion of not being aware of her presence was needed for how gone he seemed.

"A penny for your thoughts, James?"

She absolutely loved the contradiction in that trigger, and of course how deep it took him in no time.

"Did you figure out the code, James?"

"Yes, Moneypenny."

"Tell me."

"Mesmerized."

"Amazing," Moneypenny giggled condescendingly. "You put that together so easily. You wouldn't happen to know what it means, do you?"

"I...I'm..."

"You're...what darling?"

"...mesmerized."

"By whom?" he heard her sing-song reply.

"I am...mesmerized by Moneypenny."

She couldn't help but play a few mind games between missions. They weren't necessarily needed to maintain his loyalty, but it didn't hurt that it kept her hold on him firm. He didn't know it, but he was better off taking orders from her directly, as she got to reward him in a way no one else really could. He could no longer orgasm without her direct command, and would've tortuously been a means of pleasure for Celine or her other agents over a long period of time. She didn't like seeing her best agent, and the Consortium's best enforcer, suffer under any circumstances. She reasoned long ago that was why he loved the field so much; besides thrill-seeking being embedded deep in his DNA, he felt some suffrage if he didn't have Moneypenny's commands given so he could obey and please the queen.

When asked to turn in her direction, his eyes fell to the sight of her toying with the top button on her jacket, to hint at revealing a body in an echelon of its own, one he might be worthy of touching and pleasing with his own someday. Now cognizant of being so close to her, and knowing he was kneeling (even if atop a bed) and exposed to his majesty, let his libido and level of compliance spike internally. His efforts in the field would be redoubled and stronger than ever as he'd be subconsciously set out to deal with whomever was opposing the Consortium, just for the chance to be more worthy.

"Do you know what you're worth to me, James? A penny for your thoughts."

His mind blanked out even more to total vacancy from his oldest trigger, until his thoughts returned bearing Moneypenny's voice.

"A sixpence for your dreams."

Her voice crafted, modified his dreams to where any he had almost always started with having some contact with her, electronically, old-fashioned letter writing, or preferably in-person.

"A shilling for your desires."

Those dreams played out as he was given his orders, and felt that burning need return to jump back into the fold, and to slyly show interest to the woman who knew him best, and feel the thrill of her reciprocating that interest.

"Half a crown for your service."

Every action he took, every bullet fired or punch thrown, every building breached or piece of intel acquired, every refill downed or woman courted, all motivated by his duty. And beyond surface-level thoughts, his duty was serving the crown of the Consortium.

"A pound for your flesh."

The capitulating agent's body shook as he was taken through this familiar motion, the most fleeting moments in his life when he got as close to Nirvana as he ever dreamed. His skin itched and burned for a chance to serve the crown, to hear her will, and act on it, to prove his worth to Moneypenny and himself.

"A guinea for your lust."

The circulation of blood let his top head rest in bliss, activating his lower head, making it the center of his attention. All he did to serve, the reward felt so close. He would never admit it outwardly, but his body betrayed the accepting of the gracious reward only Moneypenny could grant him. He felt surrounded by a fog of pure lust; hips buckling and feeling touches and compliments he yearned for every night. He fell back onto the bed as she watched over him, smiling. He needed her word to be complete, to reach his reward.

She always loved hearing how he was on the verge of moaning her name, but couldn't quite make it happen. It was a far cry from telling a conscious man his worth boiled down to mere pennies, or barely more than a British pound, but it never took long for a woman of Moneypenny's methodical talents to make that man happy that his existence had been reduced to being kept in her change purse until she had use of him. And the quivering man before her would've just taken it in stride; maybe one day he would consciously regard his submission to her the same way.

"Oh James, I'm just kidding. You know how priceless you are to me."

And just like that, his reward was granted, and the floodgates opened. His fluids jutting all over the sheets, even reaching the wall near the bed. Celine's faint screams of joy were nothing compared to his loud groans, also known as one of Moneypenny's unofficial trumpets of victory. The pleasure he always experienced from release set his mind deeper into his programming, and fanning the flame that would lead him on the path to his next real orgasm. For his next mission, to uncover whom had discovered the Consortium's existence, it might take a while longer before he would reach is next one. Maybe she would rejoin him in the field to help him along and remind him what he was really fighting for.

"Whatever it takes to get a happy ending," as he might say.