Don't Call Me Kitten! Page 5

  Rosa blushed adorably. “Thank you for being here for me mistress. Um my safe word is red, that’s usual isn’t it?” She stripped out of her clothes and repositioned herself.

  “Good enough.”

  Dimitri looked adoringly at his wife’s backside, as if seeing it for the first time. “Are you sure you are ready for this Rosa?”

  “Please Sir, I’ve been really naughty asking you to bring me here.” She waggled her bottom as if to entice him more.

  That got a smile from Dimitri. “Well here goes...” He let his hand land on her backside with a loud slap.

  Rosa groaned with pleasure. “More Sir, I want you to feel my remorse.”

  Dimitri laughed. “Remorse indeed, you’re enjoying this aren’t you my little wild cat.”

  Helena rolled her eyes at Dimitri’s nickname for his wife. Personally she hated nicknames, they always seemed slightly demeaning but that was her and this was them. “You might want to alternate the sides of her ass you spank and take a pause to stroke her gently between each. The mix of pleasure and pain is what will likely do it for her. It will release a soup of hormones into her system that will take her into a really nice space.” She advised.

  To his credit Dimitri took her advice easily. Pausing between each slap to ensure his wife’s response was still one of pleasure. He was learning to feel his way with her.

  Soon enough the spanking was finished. Rosa stood and turned, her face flushed and her eyes slightly dreamy.

  So the woman really was a natural sub. “Would you like to try something else?” Helena queried, a little more sure this was all going to turn out alright.

  Rosa’s eyes gleamed in answer. “Yes please Mistress. That’s if its alright with Sir.”

  “Anything you want honey. Just promise me you’ll be honest and tell me if you want me to stop. I really have no desire to hurt you.”

  While the couple reassured each other Helena looked around the room. She spied what she needed, taking it down from the ‘tool’ rack on the wall then passing it over to Dimitri. “Until you work out what her pain tolerance is you’d be best to stay away from canes and heavy duty whips. Some of the softer leather whips aren’t too bad. You might consider getting one for general home use. Wooden spoons, belts and hair brushes are always handy around the home too. This strap however might be just the thing to push Rosa’s limits a bit more. It’s made of soft pliable leather and should give quite pleasurable sting.” She passed it over to him. “Use it like you did your hand. Go for the ass, upper thighs, back and shoulders but avoid the lower back or you might damage her kidneys.”

  Dimitri took the strap and studied it, turning it over in his hand. “How do you know all this?”

  Helena shrugged. “Club rules. I can only supervise what I’ve experienced. Personally I try to limit that experience to as little as possible. I’m not exactly a submissive. I’d rather protect the girls who work here and help people like you than get involved myself.”

  Dimitri frowned. A dungeon monitor who wasn’t actively kinky. It had to sound bizarre. “If you’re not into the lifestyle why do you work here?”

  “Needs must and I wouldn’t go assuming that I’m totally vanilla. I’ve worked here too long to be that mainstream. I just haven’t found anyone who stirs my blood enough to play with. Just fussy I guess. Now enough about me let’s see to Rosa’s needs. First though I think we need to polish your dominance act.”

  Dimitri gave her a confused look. “I don’t want to bully her.”

  “And believe me I’m very glad you don’t.” Maybe if she just showed him what she meant. “Would you mind me demonstrating something? I give you my word I won’t do anything to her she won’t enjoy.”

  The man looked a little hesitant but nodded. “Go ahead but don’t spank her.”

  “I won’t have to.” Helena walked right up to Rosa. “Stand and look at me Rosa.” She used her special voice of authority and watched attentively as the woman straightened herself and turned to face her. Helena met her eyes. “You see Dimitri. I am using my voice and my eyes to convey power. My command was both specific and direct. I gave no room for query. As she stood I watched her with an aura of anticipation.” She reached out to stroke Rosa’s hair then took a firm handful, gave a firm but not unduly painful tug then released it. “Kneel before me Rosa.”

  “Yes Mistress!” Rosa’s voice cracked as she struggled to reply. She blushed.

  “What do you feel now Rosa?”

  “Safe. I am at your mercy but I am safe mistress.”

  “Because you have chosen to give me your trust. Why do you feel you can do that Rosa? Fear?”

  “No! Mistress. Not fear. It’s like ... you are a rock, a shelter from the storm. I know exactly what you want from me. I know that you would punish me but it would be no more or less than I needed or would enjoy. And when it was over you would praise me, hold me. Maybe more.”

  Rosa looked adoringly into her eyes and that was not what she had intended. Time to draw back a bit. She nodded to Dimitri whose mouth was still gaping at how his wife had responded to her. “Do you see now what she wants? She wants to make a precious gift to you of her trust but to do that she needs you to be her rock, as she calls it. Dominance isn’t about cruelty Dimitri, not unless you are in a sado-masochist relationship. What Rosa wants is decisiveness, firmness, praise and protection. You don’t need to be an asshole or an alpha male. Just confidently act the part of the authoritative protector who’ll always give her what she needs and keep her safe. That’s why we call doing this type of thing a scene. Its no different to putting on an eye patch and pretending to be a pirate for her or her putting a French maid’s outfit on for you.”

  The man grinned, obviously liking the pirate analogy. It was a grin that really lit up his eyes. “I get it. Act the part. Rosa. Get up and bend over that bench again! Show me how truly sorry you are!”

  “Yes Sir. Oh yes that is good Sir.” She groaned as he proceeded to master her.

  3

  Beep, beep, beep... Helena slammed the kill button on the alarm clock. Sunday morning and she needed to be at Petrov’s office by eleven to report from the night before. She churned a protein smoothie through the blender, showered and threw on her running gear. There was no point being formal with Petrov. It’s not as if she could intimidate him by turning up looking tough or flashy so she always went just as she was. She had the fairies to thank for that. They’d taught her to be comfortable being who she was, scar and all.

  A comfortable twenty minute run later and she was at his office. Sergei, still Petrov’s main guard after all these years, let her in. He’d never seem to have gotten over the hots for her since she busted his trigger finger. Even now he eyed her up and down, smiling lasciviously. Not that Helena cared. As far as she knew he didn’t have xray vision. If he tried anything she’d break his other hand. Only trouble is he would probably enjoy the pain. Bloody masochist! No wonder he was loyal to Petrov. He’d gladly take whatever the psychopathic sadist dished out. She sighed. “Just open the damn door Sergei.”

  “Ooh! A bit pushy are we today. Have a long night did we?

  “There is no we Sergei, get that in your head.” She muttered as she followed him into Eduard’s office.

  The man behind the desk looked up from some papers, eying her, as ever, appraisingly. “You had a phone call last night. Care to tell me all about it?”

  As if he didn’t already at least have the number of the guy that called. If not more. “Just some guy about my sister. She’s got a new job.”

  “Why bother calling you? Surely your sister would tell you soon enough?”

  There was suspicion in Petrov’s voice but nothing that indicated he knew the content of the conversation. Here was hoping that Andrew, as he liked to be called, had had the sense to encrypt the line. “He was just checking on a few details before she starts. They noticed she had trust issues and cared enough to enquire into her background.”

  “Now why wou
ld a government official care about your sister’s health? I wonder.”

  Ah, so he’d had tracked the number. “You know what any country gets like about foreigners. If you weren’t born and educated in their country you’re always considered a slight risk, at least until you’ve been there twenty years of so. They probably just wanted to make sure she didn’t have any mental health issues that might affect her job.”

  “Hmm.” Petrov didn’t sound entirely convinced that was the all of it. “So there’d be no connection between that call and the fact that we were just offered a lucrative wheat shipment this morning at a price we would be unlikely to refuse?”

  Helena had no trouble giving him a blank look. She had totally no idea. “I don’t see the connection.”

  “The connection appears to be you. They had one strange extra condition attached to the deal.”

  “Which was?” Honestly she had no idea but the beginnings of a faint hope were starting to stir within her.

  “We were to release one Helena Ivanova from all her debts and to ensure no harm comes to her while arrangements are made to get her out of the country.”

  The big question was had he accepted the deal. She fought to keep calm. “And...?

  “I’m considering it. What intrigues me though is what makes you so valuable to them?

  “You know what I do Mr Petrov. When I’m not working for you I working in a very narrow field of science. Unless you need the precise set of knowledge about genetics contained in my head I’m worth nothing.”

  Petrov sat back in his chair for a moment, staring at her, saying absolutely nothing. You could literally have heard a pin drop. Even the micro-fairies that tended Petrov’s african violet had paused in their business, curious. Ever so slowly he steepled his fingers. It was one of those annoying mannerisms that told you when he was about to come to a decision. “Very well. The wheat is more valuable to us on the markets than anything I’ll ever earn from you. They can have your genetics knowledge for all the good it will do them. It’ll be years before anything of use will come out of that field of science. It’s too new.”

  For once Helena succeeded in not rolling her eyes. Luck was with her today. No point to push it. It would not help her cause to enlighten him to the fact that they were already on the cusp of the next great technological revolution. The likes of which had not been seen since the invention of the computer chip and would likely not be seen again until commercial nanotechnology exploded onto the scene. Genetics would be used to show the unity of mankind and its relationship to all life on the planet. Many of the world’s nastiest diseases like Huntington’s disease as well as a few just plain annoying ones like rheumatoid arthritis had the potential to be eradicated. At the very least new medicines would be tailored to individual needs with greater effectiveness and less chance of side effects. More controversially parents might be able to pick embryos with their best mix of genes, if the law allowed. Whether it would lead to humankind’s biggest leap in evolution or lead to an evolutionary dead end, the jury was out. She was drawn from her reverie by the fact that Petrov was still staring at her thoughtfully.

  “Now last night. What possessed you to let two non-members into the club Helena.”

  She’d known this was coming. She did her best not to sound defensive. “They didn’t see anything and it was more money in your coffers.”

  “It was but...”

  “If I might be so bold Mr Petrov.” To interrupt and voice any idea to this man was indeed bold. “You are missing out on a major money making opportunity. Since that book came out there are all sorts of people looking to spice up their sex lives. They need a safe place to learn.”

  “The Red Thorn is not a safe place.”

  “No it isn’t”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “A new place. Call it the New Thorn. No hard core stuff. No prostitutes. Just a club where they can safely play, meet up with others of their kind and learn techniques. Do a background check on them before you allow them a provisional membership. The club will probably be enough for most but for the few who want more you can invite them to transfer their membership to the Red Thorn. It will increase your membership base. With the right branding and marketing it could even lead to a chain of franchises.”

  Petrov’s eyes visibly lightened. You could nearly see the green dollar signs flashing in them. “Would you be willing to spend your weekends working up a proposal for this until you go. When you’re not at the park talking to the trees that is.”

  So he had her watched at the park all these years. No matter, there was nothing they would’ve seen. She chose, wisely, to ignore the jibe. “I’d be happy to Mr Petrov.”

  “Do this well and I may think of giving you a retirement bonus. Was there anything you heard at the club over the weekend?”

  “Only that the politsiya have a bunch of unsolved murders down in the south east sector of the city. All the victims had sabre injuries.”

  “Ah yes.” His expression showed he wasn’t exactly amused. “The damned cossack vigilantes are trying to take over our protection rackets down there.”

  Eduard watched her leave then picked up the phone. Something didn't jell. Someone somewhere thought that Helena was more important than she seemed. He was acutely aware than his position in the Mafia food change was only as secure as his worth to those above him. He couldn't afford a stuff up. If the woman proved to be of value and he had let her go...well, it never hurt to check.

  After spending some time in the park talking to her fairy mentor Eadaoin about everything that had happened Helena returned home to catch up on her email. She was stunned to see an encrypted email message from Jnarn in Japan, the very scientist she'd soon be working with. As she read his email and carefully perused the attached data her excitement grew. Heart pounding she read over the data again. Could it really be that the equivalent of a genetic full stop, and extra 'stop' codon in an innocuous strand of DNA had kept human lives artificially short. How the hell had that occurred? Usually mutations that weren't beneficial to the species remained rare or soon died out. This had to have affected the whole of the human race almost simultaneously. A pandemic perhaps? Jnarn was wondering if there was some way to reverse it.

  Helena wondered if Jnarn had any idea what the deactivated part of the strand did. It might have other functions, not just the obvious creation of a protein vital to maintaining the length of telomeres. Telomeres had long fascinated those interested in aging processes. They were a tiny part in each and every cell of the human body. A bit seemed to drop off the end of them every time a cell divided. It was like a built in use-by-date for any human, limiting them to at best 120 years and only then in optimal conditions. But if humans had been meant to live longer what else might be in the deactivated DNA? What else did it do? That was the question. Or maybe not. Maybe the real question was what genetic code had the strategically placed full stop, a stop codon, wiped out? A codon was the equivalent of a genetic word, always three letters long. Three letters from an alphabet of only four possible characters. But there were twenty different proteins those three letters could code.

  She fired up a computer software program she'd written herself for just for looking at this kind of stuff and started analyzing the possible combinations. Tracking back to the non-coding sequence that preceded the strand she began the long process of analyzing the bits that might have originally acted as enhancers or repressors, regulating the the instructions the DNA contained. There had to be a hint in there somewhere. It was a process that could conceivably take years but by some fluke. About 3am with her eyes begging to close, she found it. Eureka! Excitedly she sent an encrypted email back to Japan before dragging herself to bed, for what little remained of the night.

  In a secret bunker, North Korea...

  Mr S. Sauron, Sakla to those who dared, fidgeted restlessly. He shouldn't have been worrying. His vast global financial interests were thriving. The economic malaise of the last few years seemed to be
over, for the moment. The general masses weren’t consuming as much, weren’t travelling as much but they were still eating and aging. His vast investments in agri-chemicals, hospitals and medical products were giving greater returns than he could have hoped. With a bit of leaning on he’d soon have more governments giving up the heinous idea of providing anything free to their citizens he’d make even more profit. What did citizen’s think, that they had provided the money in the first place or something. His companies employed them, it was his money he loaned to them so they could buy his products. Yet he couldn’t quite stop all the loonies who were opting to get off-the-grid and drop out of the system altogether. He thought he’d stopped that little problem back in the sixties. There was progress to in privatising the world’s water supplies and prison systems. Hmm! He might have to find a few more things to make illegal so he could fill those prisons to capacity. Maybe he could make getting off-the-grid illegal.

  His current host's body was wearing out but he'd replace it for something better soon. He doubted the man whose aura he inhabited would survive his departure, the man's identity long ago being subsumed beneath his own. With what little remained of the body's connection to its original soul he doubted it would survive more than a few days past his departure. No loss there. Yet...worry gnawed at him. The Malakim had been busy freeing their long lost friends. They'd been busy too, developing alliances within the Australian law enforcement, military and security organisations. Somewhere they had stashed the spaceship they'd captured from the Din when their pitiful rebellion had first started. They'd evicted all his contacts from the town, apart from two Din who'd had the audacity to defect to their side to save their skins. Any agents he sent to infiltrate the town were swiftly detected. He still hadn’t worked out how. He'd tried burning them out during the middle of last summer's heat wave only to have them use that same captured spaceship to water bomb the fire. Troops he'd sent to engage them when they went to rescue the Malakim in the Himalayas had fled. Gibbering idiots the lot of them. The soldiers had spoken of the earth opening beneath their tank, strange mists rising from the ground and beings who magically appeared behind them. The Malakim were proving troublesome. There were only a few of them but that was more than his comfort level allowed. Right now they were focused on freeing the rest of their friends but what happened after they completed that task? He knew the answer. They'd be coming after the Din.