First & Long

by Jesse Jordan

  Rodrigo considers, then chuckles. “You need to have a nice long private talk with Larissa. I'll make sure you have that chance when she comes by. I'm not saying you aren't strong enough or smart enough Jessica, God knows you're smarter than most of the people I work with. But you need to fully understand what you're asking, and Larissa can fill you in on what exactly extreme means. In the meantime though, there are a few things that I can think of. Do you know how to fight? I mean really fight, and not what you did to that fucker Kahled?”

  I shake my head, and pick up my sausage. “All I really learned in my neighborhood was how to fight dirty. Thumbs to the eye, knees and feet to the nuts, stuff like that.”

  “Okay well, we can start working on that too. Dirty tricks only work when the other guy isn't expecting them. And I'll get an Airsoft pistol, just like the real one that I have here for home defense. You're going to learn how to shoot as best you can without actually squeezing off rounds, and every time I'm out of the villa and you're here, you're to carry that thing on you,” Rodrigo says. “It'll be enough. The Network may be criminals, but this is Europe, guns aren't as common as New Jersey.”

  “I understand. And the rest?”

  Rodrigo chuckles. “Talk with Larissa first before you ask me. Her text said she'd stop by this afternoon, which is good because I've got some work at The Farm I need to do. Don't worry, I'll be carrying the whole day too.”

  After breakfast I get on my household duties while Rodrigo does some work in his home office using his computer. After I finish up the kitchen, I do the laundry, hanging everything on the line outside to dry in the spring air, enjoying the warmth. I lean my head back, humming in pleasure as the wind ruffles my hair, when I'm interrupted by a familiar if long missed laugh and Greek accent.

  “You look like a woman who's enjoying her life.”

  I turn, half surprised but feeling better after Rodrigo's reassurances and his forewarning to see Larissa, as beautiful as ever, her glossy black hair pinned back as she seems to have appeared like magic behind me. “You know, you're going to have to teach me how you do that.”

  “Yeah, Rodrigo talked with me on the phone, he said you might need a talking to,” Larissa says, smirking. Her violet eyes widen a fraction of an inch as the sunlight glints off my collar, and she raises an eyebrow. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “He's my Master, and I'm happily one hundred percent his slave,” I say proudly. “He's the perfect Master, too. I need to thank you again for all of your training. My body would not have been able to accept Master without it.”

  Larissa sighs in wonder and steps forward, reaching for my collar. I take a half step back, then stop, lifting my chin in a sign of trust. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”

  “It's something remarkable, I'll give you that,” Larissa says, stroking my collar with a finger before taking her hand back. The door to the villa opens, and Rodrigo comes out, giving us a little wave which Larissa returns. “Hey, I found some really nice jewelry here!”

  “Thanks,” Rodrigo says, coming over. “Where's your car?”

  “Outside the gate, since you decided to break your damn remote sensor,” Larissa says with a smile. “Not that I don't understand. I heard what happened. Just to let you know, Leon hasn't turned up at any of the local hospitals, so I suspect The Sultan might be short a man today.”

  “Good, serves the fucker right,” I growl. Rodrigo and Larissa both give me amused looks, Larissa cocking an eyebrow. “What? That motherfucker threatened to rape me, but more importantly he threatened my Master.”

  Larissa looks from me to Rodrigo, and back. “My, my. The wildcat isn't gone, after all. I am so looking forward to our talk, Jessica. But only after we can get rid of this smelly, uncultured....”

  I can't help it, I growl and my hands clench as Larissa insults Rodrigo, and Larissa laughs. “Relax, relax. I was teasing you. Rodrigo, I am so looking forward to getting the total and unvarnished scoop, would you please give me and Jessica some privacy?”

  “Sure. Call me when you're done, we'll grab an early dinner for our talk. Jessica, are you okay with having dinner alone tonight?” Rodrigo asks. I nod, and he pulls out the gun he showed me last night, handing it to me. “Don't forget, as long as I'm not here, you carry that. Even with Larissa around.”

  “Yes Master,” I reply, wondering where to put it before pulling out the back of my leggings and tucking it in there. “Uh... I think I need a holster.”

  “We'll take care of that when I return,” Rodrigo says, pulling me in close and kissing me hotly. His lips make me weak in the knees, and I'm still recovering when he gets in his truck and pulls up to the gate, getting out to open it himself before I remember my duties and run over to close it.

  When I turn around, Larissa's still looking at me with that amused expression on her face. “Yes?”

  “You're very loyal to him,” Larissa says. “Is there more than just being his slave involved?”

  “Do you mean have we had sex?” I ask, and Larissa laughs again.

  “No. I can tell by the way he just kissed you, and that collar, you two have probably done some things that would make even my toes curl. I don't need details, I might just get jealous of you. To say my assignment was unsatisfying is an understatement.” Larissa turns, and we walk back towards the laundry, which I finish hanging before we head over to the garden plot and I put my gloves on.

  “You wanna help?” I ask. Larissa thinks, then nods.

  “First, let me ask you a question, Jessica. You've become strong enough to submit to Rodrigo. Is that open to anyone?” she says, stepping forward. “If I order you to get your ass into the training room so that I can fuck you, what would you do?”

  “Promptly tell you to fuck off, and if I have to pull my pistol and shoot you in the leg,” I reply without hesitation. “I like you Larissa, I don't know if it's because you're the only woman I've talked with for three months or not. But I will never submit to you.”

  Larissa smiles, and takes a step back before picking up the shovel from the tools. “All I need to know. So.... what is it that Rodrigo wants us to talk about?”

  “I asked him this morning at breakfast if maybe I could help him outside these walls,” I reply, lifting my pick and driving it into the earth. I stop, and take my pistol out, looking around before place it on windowsill of the warehouse, the walls are thick enough that there's exterior sills too. “I can't pick with that thing scraping my ass. Anyway, I want to help Rodrigo. This Sultan character, he sounds like bad shit. And I'm sure there's more.”

  “Obviously. Hmmm...,” Larissa says. She plunges her shovel into the ground, picking up a spadeful before turning it over, loosening the dirt more and preparing it for planting. “Well, maybe me telling you about my assignment would help. Would you like to hear?”

  I know I shouldn't, considering how repulsed I was when she told me about it, but instead I nod as I lift my pick again. “Sure. How detailed do you want to get?”

  “He had a tiny cock, really. Barely thirteen centimeters... about five inches?” Larissa says, and I laugh, shaking my head. TMI. “Okay, you don't need that level of detail. Anyway, it took me longer than I thought it would to get him alone, Heinrich was a lot more cautious than I thought he'd be. Or maybe it was just that he had to get over a few things first.”

  “What's that?” I ask, and Larissa drives her shovel into the dirt again, turning it as she pulls it out.

  “Heinrich was one of the big financial people for the Eastern European gangs that have been fighting a clandestine war with The Composer's part of The Network for years now,” Larissa says. “Because of where he's from, and the groups he associated with, me being Greek was seen as... well, let's just say I'm sure that he didn't want to be seen with anyone less than your stereotypical Aryan superwoman.”

  “Neo-Nazi?” I ask, and Larissa nods, making me laugh. “Sorry, but any man who looks at you and thinks you're not a superwoman is out of their fucking mind.”
<
br />   “I agree, and once I was able to get some private time with Heinrich, he was of the same opinion. It just took a little more discretion, and a supposed business trip to get him away from his fuckhead allies enough to get into his bed. Once I was alone with him in his hotel room, I got to try and have a little bit of fun with him, but that fucker...”

  She sighs, plunging her shovel into the dirt again and I pause my picking, curious. “What?”

  Larissa slams the shovel into the dirt and gives me a desperate look. “You know, I've had a lot of men, it's my fucking job. And some have had big dicks, some small, and a lot of the small dicked guys try and make up for it with foreplay and good skills. In fact, the best pussy eating I've ever gotten was from a guy with just an average dick. This guy. though... if I were his wife I would have killed him just out of frustration! His idea of foreplay was about twenty seconds of fumbling with my tits, he refused to go down on me, and when I decided to try and tease him up with a little cock sucking, the asshole blew his load down my throat in less than a minute! No wonder I literally jammed the poison in his ass!”

  I can't help it, her obvious frustration and the image in my head of her stabbing a syringe into a Neo-Nazi's ass for some reason is absolutely hilarious, and I laugh. “I'm sorry Larissa, but the image... phew, I didn't know quite how lucky I've been.”

  Larissa laughs, nodding. “Yeah. So if you tell me that you've hit the jackpot, I'm going to hate you just a little bit inside. Still like you, but hate you too.”

  “Well.....” I say teasingly, fingering my collar, and Larissa laughs. “I can't say he's perfect. There's one thing we haven't done yet. But, last week Master tied me up and licked my pussy for an hour, and I came so many times I passed out. He punished me by taking away my clothes again and then fucking me after dinner in the dining room.”

  Larissa blushes, then mutters under her breath in what I guess is Greek. “What's that?”

  “I said 'Thessalonian bitches,' which is more or less the Greek equivalent of 'blondes get all the luck.' Most blonde women in Greece have roots around Thessaly,” Larissa says, then sighs half wistfully. “You sure that Rodrigo doesn't have another collar available?”

  “Oh hell na...,” I start, then blush, looking down. “Master makes his own decisions.”

  Larissa laughs again, and I join in, it feels good after the terror of the past few days. “Okay, well I'll just have to find my sexual release with someone else. And if you want, I'll be happy to give you some advanced training. Especially if you want to learn how to fight. Rodrigo is a good fighter, but women have to react different than men. Smaller bodies, less muscle, you know.”

  “I understand,” I say, surprised when Larissa offers me her hand. “What's this?”

  “Something I've never done before with a woman in your position. You might be Rodrigo's slave... but you're my friend. I like you too.”

  I shake her hand, she's got a good strong grip, and we continue work. When Larissa leaves, I think about what we talked about. I wasn't shocked or repulsed by anything Larissa said. Well, I was shocked, but in a good way, she's so straightforward in the way she told me about her mission, and she's got a wicked sense of humor. When it came to her offer of friendship, I was more than eager to accept it, something that I would never have done even before she left on her assignment. It wasn't loneliness either, I think I genuinely like Larissa.

  Thinking about liking Larissa, I know that back at Rutgers I would never have thought of becoming friends with her. The change is all in me. I wonder, how much am I changing?Am I anything at all like the woman who I was before? Then again, did I ever want to be that woman anyway? Doing chemistry and being a general standoffish bitch to every weak-willed wanna be Alpha who comes my way, my only joy in a relationship in seeing how much I can break him before I get tired of him? Aren't I happier being with Rodrigo, who pushes me to my limits and makes me stronger each and every day?

  I take out what I'm going to make for my dinner and think. It takes me a while, in fact I'm washing up the dishes and drying them to put away before I make my decision. The fact is though, other than the specter of death and violence that exists outside this villa and is repped by the gun on the counter next to me.... I like who I am and what my life is now.

  I've never been happier in my entire life.

  Rodrigo

  “Is that a blister on your finger?” I ask Larissa when she sits down at the cafe, our normal meeting spot. “Did Jessica get you to help her in the garden?”

  “Without even asking,” Larissa says, looking at the pink and white spot on her thumb. “Ah well, it's out of the way, I can take care of it later. If I get creative, maybe I can needle Father Giacamo into thinking I got this from something that'll have him creaming his cassock. So... have you fallen for her yet?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, surprised at the sudden change in topics, and Larissa laughs. “What? You keep this shit up and I'm not paying the bill this time.”

  “Come off it, Rodrigo. I saw the way you looked at her, and that kiss. You've got feelings for her,” Larissa says with a twinkle in her eye. “Very dangerous, especially considering the other problems in your life.”

  “Like I don't know that,” I comment, refusing to agree with Larissa's accusation. “Considering I broke my own damn gate last night.”

  “Hmmm.... you know what? Let's skip the cafe, just walk with me,” Larissa says, and I agree. We leave the cafe and Larissa goes over to my truck. “Up in the hills?”

  We start off, and in the privacy of my truck Larissa finally opens up. “The Sultan isn't going to let this go, you know.”

  “I figured. I'd hoped that by just taking care of his bitch boy that I'd be clear enough. I don't want this to come to a head between us,” I reply, lying. After all, that's exactly what I have been ordered to do, although if Larissa knew that and who ordered it, she's try and kill me herself. “It's a big fucking world. Even the Mediterranean is pretty damn big when you consider it all.”

  “It is a big world Rodrigo, but the word I'm hearing is, The Sultan's got something personal with you. He's not going to let this go, especially because it seems he looking for proof on something.” We stop at the top of a hillock that overlooks the city, and I get out, sitting down on my tailgate. Larissa joins me, not sitting down but just leaning against the sidewall, watching me to see what my reaction is.

  “Proof on what?” I ask finally after a minute, and Larissa shakes her head, even as a cold ball of fear starts to spread through my chest. There's only one thing that there could be proof on.

  “I don't know. Something to back up why he doubts you, why he doesn't want you as the capo for North America. Before it was just professional I think, but after what you did to Leon, it's not just professional any more,” she says, sighing. “You better have eyes on both sides of your head.”

  I nod, frustration building inside me. “Why are you telling me this?”

  Larissa shrugs. “Two reasons. First, and the smaller one is, I offered your slave my friendship. The fact is, I like the woman. And keeping you alive keeps her safe and happy, whether you want to admit your feelings for her or not.”

  “I don't....”

  “Don't give me your bullshit right now, Rodrigo,” Larissa says, cutting me off. “I know how to read people, even better than they read themselves. But that's only a small reason. The fact is, I have a personal reason in this as well. If you and The Sultan do come to blood, I know who I want to remain standing afterwards, and that's you.”

  “Why?”

  Larissa goes quiet, and I wonder if she's going to answer, and when she does, her voice is quiet, different than anything I've ever heard before from her. I wish I could see her, but the moon is hidden by clouds, all I can see is her outline in the darkness. “How old were you when you first killed someone, Rodrigo?”

  I think for a moment before answering. “Twenty four. I'd gotten into plenty of fights, shit goes down you kn
ow, but the first time I knew I killed someone? Twenty four. I was working a delivery for Scoglitti when the stupid mick who was supposed to take the shipment decided that instead of paying full price, he'd pull a gun on me. I was faster.”

  “I was eleven,” Larissa says softly, her voice more emotional than I've ever heard before. “I've told you a little about my childhood in Greece, but for me, childhood ended when I was ten years old. That was the day that I was taken... and sold.”

  “You were a slave?” I ask, and Larissa nods. “As a child?”

  “The Network might be one of the biggest players around, but there are smaller operators who cater to... more extreme tastes,” Larissa says. “The man who stole me from my home, he sold me in the underground slave markets in Jeddah. The man who bought me was one of the richest men in Mecca actually, who made a lot of his money off of fleecing the annual Hajj pilgrims, charging obscene amounts of money for shit they didn't need. He kept me... and when I was eleven, I started puberty. He said that since I was now a woman, I would serve him as a woman.”

  “You fought back,” I whisper, and Larissa nods. “How'd you get away?”

  “His wife... well, one of them at least, took pity on me,” Larissa says. “She made it look like a suicide, and since I'd technically been adopted by the man, she sent me away on a legal note. It was all she could do, but it wasn't much of a mercy, it was just a one way ticket on the first flight out of Jeddah. I ended up having to become a street kid, and then worked my way up from there.”

  “How'd you get into doing what you're doing then?” I ask suddenly, the echoes of Jessica's question months ago to me bouncing around in my head.

  Larissa laughs bitterly. “As I grew into my teens, I figured out that I'm very good looking, Rodrigo. So I was a street kid with no money, no way to get a formal education, but with looks that had men offering me money to do most anything to them. And no matter where I went, it was the same. Berlin, Paris, London, Beijing, Sydney, it didn't matter. Men wanted to fuck me, and they would give me nearly anything to do it. So I learned what it took to survive, and then educated myself in the meantime. Before you ask, no, I don't like the slave trade even though it's part of our business. And I don't hate The Sultan because of his beliefs, despite the bastard who I killed being Muslim. I've met just as many bastards who pray to the cross as the crescent.”