Mission Paradise

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Mission Paradise Page 3

by Deborah Brown


  She lifted the back of her skirt up over her hips and slid her thin silk panties off her ass, letting them slide to the floor. “Zach, please…” she pleaded, unable to vocalize her needs. There was something else in her voice, something that both surprised and confused her. She was excited, she realized. Zach’s blatant show of physical superiority was turning her on. Avalon buried her face in the couch cushions in shame.

  Zach brought the palm of his hand down on her left buttock with a resounding smack.

  Avalon yelped and writhed with the pain, biting into the cushion. The second blow was to her right buttock and was even harder. He rubbed her backside soothingly with the hand that caused her the pain. She began to moan involuntarily, and her eyes filled with hot, bitter tears. Zach spanked her again and again, hard enough to push all the air out of her lungs. He paused, soothing her backside once again. Zach didn’t stop spanking until Avalon released all her emotions and forgot who she was. She forgot she was a smart, successful assistant district attorney of Los Angeles County, forgot her father was one of the richest and most powerful men in the country, forgot she was the intelligent, confident product of some of the finest schools in the country. Avalon forgot it all and became nothing but Zach’s plaything, unable to resist his pure animal strength, completely at his mercy, his to use however he pleased.

  The spanking stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and Avalon lay, shaking and whimpering, over the back of the couch. Tears streamed down her face, her ass and thighs were warm to the touch, and her head spun from the rush of blood to her brain. She felt groggy, like she was drunk, and knew that if she stood up now, she would simply faint to the floor.

  Zach had gone quiet, the deep, growling grunts that accompanied his exertions had ceased, and Avalon began to hope her punishment was over. But Zach still held her wrists tight behind her back, and he showed no sign of letting her go. She sensed him moving in close behind her, felt him push her legs apart with his knee, and heard the sound of his zipper opening. Avalon knew what was coming next. She understood what it meant to be completely owned by this man, and she reveled in the sheer pleasure. She didn’t want him to stop this, ever. She would do anything, anything at all, for the man behind her.

  Zach reached under her shoulders, pulled her up from the couch, and spun her around to face him. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Avalon felt like she would be devoured by the ferocious passion she saw there. She could barely stand, her legs still weak.

  “I love you.” Avalon began to cry again and promised herself she would love this man forever.

  “Me too, babe,” he said and entered her suddenly.

  Chapter Five

  Cable discovered that Rissa had moved from the address her brother had and did some legwork around the neighborhood to find anyone with a forwarding. And once he got that and went to that address, he found that she’d left there, too. More legwork. While he was doing that, Slice turned his particular set of skills to the problem of hacking her social accounts. He made himself comfortable in his office with a bottle of water and a bag of healthy chips, courtesy of Lark. He wouldn’t tell her they tasted like dust.

  He switched on his laptop and entered Rissa Belmont’s name into the search engine. She was easy enough to find. Slice clicked his way through various popular social media sites, entering her name in each; on the last one, she popped up on the screen with a more in-depth profile. Finding her password took a little more time. Slice slid a thumb drive into the side of his laptop and ran a software program that would garner more in-depth information. Five minutes later, he had gained access to Rissa’s account. At first glance, everything seemed perfectly normal. Rissa had fewer friends than Slice would have expected, but her brother had had a streak of the lone wolf about him, and it looked very much like his sister shared this trait. Slice sifted through the friends she did have, scrolling down the private messages without actually reading them in detail, treading a fine line between gathering information and prying. He wasn’t interested in normal boy-girl chit-chat; he was looking for anything suspicious –– he didn’t know what exactly, but he would know it when he saw it. It didn’t take him long to find a lot of messages from a “York Jones,” but when he clicked on the man’s icon, the page was blank.

  Slice mumbled incoherently and clicked again. Another page popped up… and was also completely empty. “Interesting,” he said aloud. “Are you hiding from me, buddy?” He left the page and tried a wider search. Unlike the rest of her friends, nothing came up that linked them together, not even other social media accounts. It was as if York Jones did not exist. Slice scratched his head, then went back to Rissa’s page and took a closer look.

  He made his way down the list of her friends, checking their information, scanning messages, and came to back to how odd it was that a lot of the messages came from a “York Jones.” But when he clicked on another one, it came up blank. Slice’s specialized software indicated the use of an RID, a remote influence device, and it appeared that York was the culprit. Slice activated a reverse search to find the IP address of York’s computer. “DENIED,” the screen said. Slice sat up and blinked.

  “What the f…?” He reactivated the program. After a second or two, the word appeared again: DENIED. Slice’s fingers flew across his keyboard as he tried another variation of his own software. DENIED. Once again, the white letters appeared on the black screen, and Slice swore under his breath. He needed to think about this. He finished off the water, slam-dunked it into the trash, and munched on the last handful of chips. On the screen, DENIED continued to mock him. York’s good, he thought. Slice knew from his own experience how difficult and complex encryption programs could be, and he’d thought his own software was pretty much state of the art. But somehow, York’s program was one step ahead of him.

  Slice tried a different approach, rebooting his laptop and then switching out the thumb drive and running another program. This time, it took ten minutes for DENIED to appear on the screen. That’s progress, he thought. The new drive contained his own program that was highly illegal and had cost Slice a small fortune on the black market. He rebooted again. Fifteen minutes… and again: DENIED. But this time, the word flashed a couple of times and a thirteen-digit number appeared on the screen. Slice lunged for a pencil and a piece of paper and began writing the number down. He got nine of the thirteen before the word DENIED returned.

  “Damn it!” Slice shouted. He needed all the digits to get an exact location. But he was getting closer. Lark wandered in to see what the yelling was about, bringing a tub of popcorn with her, which she set on Slice’s desk.

  “How’s it going?” she asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

  “This guy really doesn’t want to be found.” Slice once again rebooted the laptop. “But he isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.” He stretched his arms above his head and twisted his neck with a loud crack.

  “Oh, my…” Lark said. “That doesn’t sound so good. Here, let me get that.” She stepped behind Slice and began kneading the back of his neck.

  “Oh… wow…” Slice sighed at her touch, feeling the tension fall away from his tired muscles. “That’s so good, Lark. Where did you learn to do that?” He closed his eyes and let her work on him.

  “Oh, here and there. A girl has to nurture her talents.” She squeezed and rubbed the back of Slice’s neck. The whole episode was over in five minutes; then he thanked her and she left, taking the popcorn with her. Slice was left feeling confused and a little guilty, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why.

  “Rissa’s not far away, up in Point Magu State Park,” Cable announced as he ran up the stairs into the office. “I must have just missed her; sounds like she left this morning. According to the neighbors, she talked about a farm of some kind up there and some guy named Jones. When I pressed for a description, they all said they hadn’t met him and never caught a glimpse of the man coming or going.”

  His announcement caused an immediate spurt of
activity. Slice went back to the digits he had copied from his PC screen, and Lark clicked her way into the California public records.

  “Look into land deeds, maybe a farm lease?” Zach stood at the top of the stairs, having arrived in time to hear Cable’s announcement. “Let’s see if our friend Mr. Jones shows up anywhere.”

  Slice leaned back in his chair to ask, “Isn’t all that land state-owned?”

  “There’s residential-zoned property with acreage back in there.” Cable pulled up a chair next to Lark. As she clicked away, he pulled out a map.

  After an hour, Lark squealed with delight. “I got him! Maybe not. There was a property titled in the name of The Jones Trust. Months back, it was deeded to another party.”

  “Got a name and address?” Zach asked. “It’s a place to start.”

  Lark looked up from her laptop and shook her head. “The only address on file is a post office box. I’ll run the legal description and cross-reference with other public records in the area, but it might take a while.”

  “I can get that,” Slice interrupted. “I got half an IP address already; now that I have a location, it will give me Jones on a plate.”

  Zach nodded and slapped him on the shoulder. “Go for it, Slice.” Then he turned to Lark. “Good work, girl,” he said, and she beamed a smile, but Zach noticed there was something off-kilter. “You okay, Lark?” he asked quietly.

  “I’m fine, Boss. Just a little tired is all. This Rissa thing had me up all night. I worry, you know? That young girl out there all alone…” She trailed off and her smile faded away.

  “Is that all?” Zach asked, his eyes boring into hers. He felt sure there was something Lark was keeping from him.

  She nodded, hesitated a moment, then added, “I have another friend I’m worried about.”

  “Let me know if I can help,” Zach said. He turned and walked off down the hall towards his office. Closing the door behind him, he sat down at his desk and picked up the phone, calling Avalon’s number and waiting until she answered.

  “ADA Rossi.” Her tone was short and busy, and Zach could hear people talking in the background.

  “We need to talk,” Zach said flatly. He leaned back in his chair and lifted his feet up onto the desk.

  “Zach, hi… Listen, I’m kinda really busy. I’ll get back to you… okay?”

  “No. I want to talk now.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. Zach waited.

  Finally, Avalon started talking again. “Okay, sir. I’ve sent my staff on a coffee break. I’ll send you the bill.”

  Zach recognized the ploy. Avalon invariably used levity to disguise her uncertainty, and the tone of her voice told him she was wary of him now. But she had called him “sir.” That was a good sign.

  “How’s the ass?” Zach asked, smiling.

  “It’s fine,” Avalon replied, lowering her voice. She wasn’t planning on telling him that she had been disappointed when she looked in the mirror that morning and there was no telltale reminder.

  “You know what I did was necessary, right?”

  “Yes, sir. It was an awful day, and you knew what I needed.”

  “So…?” Zach said. He waited to see how she would react to the cryptic question.

  “Um…so? So what?”

  He could sense her insecurity. Avalon wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. Zach considered helping her out, but decided to let her work a little bit first.

  “So…?” he said again, keeping up the suspense. He heard Avalon take a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry, sir…?” she said hesitantly.

  Zach laughed. “I know you’re sorry, Avalon. But what else?” There was another long pause, and Zach stared up at the ceiling, trying to picture Avalon in her office, sitting at her desk and wondering what the hell to say next.

  Finally, she got it. “Thank you for spanking me, sir,” she said slowly and clearly.

  He beamed with pride. “You’re a good girl, Avalon. You can be bad, I know, but right now, you please me. You’ve earned a reward. My house tonight. I’ll have everything covered.”

  Avalon sighed and giggled. “I’ll be early. I have nothing on the calendar for the afternoon.”

  After he hung up, Zach walked across to the window and looked out. He watched pedestrians walking by on the sidewalk below and wondered if any of those strangers had something as special as he had with Avalon. He thought not. They were both finally accepting his dominant role in their relationship. When she first broached the subject, he’d been hesitant, afraid it would damage their relationship. Oddly enough, it had brought them closer, despite Avalon having a job that in itself provided her with considerable power. But it wasn’t like she was surrendering herself to him. On the contrary, by relinquishing control to Zach, she was empowering herself, increasing her confidence in herself and her sexuality.

  He turned from the window and walked back down the hall towards reception. He called for Cable and Slice as he went, and they came out of their offices, gathering around Lark at the office counter.

  “Are we good to go?” he asked, addressing all three in turn with his gaze.

  Slice nodded and waved a piece of paper. “Place called ‘The Farm.’ Gee, how original. Bought by York Jones three years ago and transferred into a shell corporation. I’m guessing that’s where we’ll find him and Rissa.”

  “Property backs up to the park on the north end.” Cable held up a map, pointing to a green mass. “A pain in the ass to get to because there’s no direct route and he lives off a dirt road.”

  “Good work. All of you. Slice, Cable, clear your schedule and pack a bag in case we need to stay overnight. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.” The two men returned to their offices to prepare for the operation. Zach looked at Lark and smiled. “You hold down the fort, okay?”

  “Yes, sir,” Lark replied with a mock salute. She couldn’t understand why Zach was laughing so hard when he returned to his office.

  Chapter Six

  “Memorize the rules. York doesn’t put up with disobedience.” September looked at Rissa in a mildly condescending and superior way, the way she thought all new girls should be looked at.

  Rissa was struck by the woman’s eyes. There was something odd about them, although she couldn’t explain what it was. Like they were covered with a thin, transparent glaze that made her irises shine just a little too bright. She shook off the thought and immediately, September’s eyes appeared perfectly normal again. Rissa told herself she must have imagined it. The two women stood in Rissa’s new bedroom. September had shown her the communal bathroom down the hall and where to find spare blankets and towels. York himself would conduct a more thorough tour of The Farm, September had explained, but he was very busy and had sent orders for Rissa to wait until he found time for her.

  Rissa stood in the middle of the room, feeling completely out of her comfort zone. She felt vulnerable in the black bikini she had been told to wear. It was too tight, and the high boots chaffed her thighs. The Farm was not at all what she had expected. York had only given brief descriptions of the place in their online conversations, and he had never mentioned the other women. Rissa felt the first bitter pangs of jealously, but the joy of finally being close to York convinced her to be patient. She was determined to reserve judgment on the situation until she could speak to him personally. He would clear matters up and reassure her, as he had always done on their webcam calls, and then he would make her his own, and the first thing Rissa would do was get rid of all the other girls. The girls with their silly names, with their fat asses on display all day and their boobs hanging out all over the place. Yes, she thought, a lot of things needed to change around here, and she was going to see to it that they did.

  “You do know how, don’t you?” September said.

  Rissa had been so lost in thought, she hadn’t quite heard. “Sorry…what?” she stammered, looking at herself in the mirror on the back of the bedroom door and suddenly feeling a chill.
/>   “York likes us to maintain strict cleanliness standards and do yoga every day to keep our bodies stretched and limber and ready should he choose one of us.”

  Rissa looked at her with a totally blank expression.

  “Oh, dear.” September sighed, beginning to slide her bikini bottom down. “Watch, I’ll show you.”

  “No, thanks. Maybe later.” Rissa ripped her eyes away from September, fighting a feeling of rising nausea that made her dizzy.

  The other girl shrugged and pulled her bikini back up over her thighs. She took a step towards Rissa and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “If you need any help, just say. It’s difficult, I know. Here on The Farm, we girls learn to help each other.” She smiled.

  Rissa thought she saw genuine concern in September’s eyes. Suddenly feeling like crying, she pulled away and sat down heavily on the bed. “I don’t understand.” She struggled to hold back the tears. “He told me he loved me. Why does he need all of… you?”

  September sat down beside her. “But he does love you. He loves us all, and we love him.” She took Rissa’s chin in her hand and smiled into her eyes. “It’s hard to understand at first. I remember what it was like when I first arrived. I’d also thought I was the only one. You have to give yourself time. It’ll be okay, trust me. We’ve all felt like you feel now. But wait until you meet York in person. Then you’ll understand.” She leaned forwards and hugged Rissa for a moment, then got up and turned to leave. “I have to get back to the kitchen.” She smiled again and left the room.

  Rissa was still thinking about what September had said when she heard a key turn in the lock. “What the f…?” She jumped up from the bed and ran to the door, turned the knob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open. Locked in! She banged on the door with her fist. “Hello? Hello? September?” she called, but there was no answer.

 

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