Honey Trap Spy Ch. 01-02

My boss is a spy—but one of ours.

My name is Katie Holmes. I was hired by the agency when I was 21 after graduating from college with honors and a broken heart from a bum of boyfriend. My parents were delighted that I was the first one in my family to receive a college degree. My boyfriend ruined graduation week by almost boasting that he had been seeing someone else for the past three months, and I had come in second. As he cruelly put it, “Second both in and out of bed.”

For the next three years I worked my way up the administrative ladder. In many ways it was just a job, but on the other hand, our business was spying. My evaluations were very good, and I passed the required lie detector test every six months. The guys kept hitting on me, but my past experience made me more or less the ice princess of E Section.

In the fourth year I was asked to become the administrative assistant to the head of E Section. The salary increase was excellent and my new boss Randy seemed like a serious but nice person. He was also five feet eleven inches tall, weighed about 175 pounds, with brown hair, and intense brown eyes that looked right through you. Obviously I took the job.

Spying became real to me in my new position. The early years had me filing weather reports, economic data, biographies of government people, and other dull reports. Now the material I handled came from our overseas offices and involved sensitive areas. Which government official was sleeping around. Who had money problems. Whom might we approach to see if they would work with us. I was naïve until I realized that human weakness is the heart of spying. E Section was always looking for human weakness, and when found, how they could exploit it.

One day I opened the courier envelope in order to log in the reports and have them ready for Randy to review later in the morning. The second envelope had large, glossy pictures and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A man who looked 60 years old was having sex with a woman that was lucky to be 20. She was beautiful with red hair, very white complexion, and large breasts with small, hard nipples. The man was in her and obviously was about to climax.

I was frozen, just staring at the pictures when I heard Randy’s voice behind me say, “Sometimes our business requires people to do things outside the box of normal human activity. That woman is one of our best assets—you would never guess that she is closer to 30 than 20. The man is a key advisor to the prime minister of his country. He comes from old money and has a wife and five children. We believe he cannot take the shame of a discovered affair.”

Randy stared at me and said, “Can you accept this side of the business and not let it affect you and your job?”

I stammered, “I don’t know.” I was blushing—not only at the pictures, but my reaction to the pictures in front of Randy. I asked, “Why do we have to do things like this?”

Randy remained quiet for a moment and then said, “Our business is to serve our country and save lives. Sometimes we do things that are horrible in any situation, but the one that our country now faces. There is a classic question often posed. Terrible people have taken your children and put them in a confined space with three hours of air. You have captured a person who knows where the children are located. Is torture, and the question assumes that torture will force him to reveal the location of the children, something that you would allow?”

Randy looked at me and asked, “Would you order the person tortured to save the children?”

I stammered again, “No… yes… I don’t know.”

Randy paused a moment and then said, “If you are to remain in E Section, you must be able to answer that question and variations of that question. I want you to talk to Anne who I think you know works for us. After talking to her, give me your answer.”

Anne was an operational person. I had filed some of her reports and occasionally greeted her in the hallway. She was confident and beautiful. She had a well defined figure that indicated many hours in the gym. Anne was five feet six inches tall with blond hair, blue-green eyes, and breasts that accentuated her spectacular body. It was hard for any employee to not watch her when she entered a room.

She walked in the next day and said, “Randy wants me to talk to you. Let’s go to the small conference room.”

Anne immediately took charge in the conference room. “I know what you saw. I know what Randy told you, and I know how you answered. In my early days in the field, I had a variation of the classic question Randy asked you. I hesitated, and the person died, and his family died, and I felt terrible.”

Before I could even collect my thoughts Anne continued, “Do you have a boyfriend? Do you enjoy sex?”

I finally broke in and said, “What business is it of yours? Why should I tell you anything…?”

Anne interrupted, “this meeting is a career move conversation. I am trying to make a judgment about you and one way to do that is to put you under stress and see what happens. You were uncomfortable when I asked about a boyfriend, and you turned absolutely red when I asked about sex. Why? You are five feet seven inches tall or so, breasts bigger than mine but perfect for your body, and legs and an ass that most women would die for. You should have men lined up in front of your bedroom door.”

Anne stopped talking. She just stared at me. I said nothing. She said nothing.

Finally I told her about college, my boyfriend, my humiliation.

She asked, “Do you feel it is the worst thing that could ever happen to you--to be rejected?”

I thought for a moment and replied, “No, there are many things worse than that. Poor health, death of a close friend, or a nasty divorce with children would all be worse than my little rejection.”

She said, “This talk has gone two ways. Let’s try to bring them together. To remain in E Section you must be comfortable with yourself and be comfortable with some of the approaches we must use to serve our country. If you do not have that comfort level in both our mission and in your own self, you must request a transfer. There will be no prejudice, but you will no longer be subject to the situations in which we are involved.

“The choice is yours. Randy told me to tell you to take the rest of the week off. On Monday, resume working in Randy’s office, or go to human resources for your new assignment.”

Monday I returned to Randy’s office early in the morning. Two hours later he came in, stopped when he saw me, gave me a small smile and entered his inner office. The small smile did it. I had made the right decision.

Several months went by. One day I returned from lunch and found the director, Randy, Anne, and several other senior people in the office. They went into the inner office and closed the door.

Three hours later the door opened and Anne walked out. She said, “We need to talk... the small conference room.”

The door closed, Anne turned to me and said, “This is a confidential conversation. You are bound by the contract you signed never to reveal it took place, or whatever happens afterward. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I replied.

“Randy wanted to talk to you, but I persuaded him that I was the right person. We have a situation.”

Anne paused and then said, “Have you noticed anyone watching you lately?”

I replied, “No.”

“Well you have been watched, and we have been watching the watchers. A random ‘follow home’ by the department discovered that you were being followed. At that time we didn’t know who it was. We do now. Let’s step back. Randy is head of E Section. It has the responsibility for recruiting and turning important people in the B group of countries. Russia, China, Western Europe are for others. We have the smaller, but not insignificant countries. So when Randy goes to a specific country, our opposition knows it is to make the final recruitment decision. Where he goes, if known, turns on the red light, and those thinking about working with us are in grave danger.

“You are being watched. It seems obvious, since we would do it ourselves, that they are going to try to turn you—to have you give them information about Randy and his activities. The standard technique is to have you meet the most handsome man you have ever met at what appears to be a chance meeting. Love would follow, and you would be turned. Or so they are probably thinking.

“We think that approach will not work. You are beautiful and every lustful male has been hitting on you without success. If our horny guys can’t get to you, then we believe these people would be equally unsuccessful. Your future lover would approach you. If done lightly, you would tell him to take a hike. If done aggressively, you might even report him to security as per policy. Either way, they would lose.”

Anne looked at me hard and said, “We don’t want them to lose; rather we want them to gain ultimate leverage over you—not some romance between an unmarried woman and a man.”

Anne continued, “If they feel that they have complete control over you, then the information you will provide them will have extreme credibility. We want to give them that confidence.”

I looked at Anne and asked, “You want me to have sex with a spy?”

Anne replied, “I’m not explaining this well. Having sex with a spy and then giving him information often works, but many times it is a simple sting and the information is false. We want to create a situation where they feel you have no choice but to do what they want.”

I replied, “I’m lost. How can they have ultimate leverage over me?”

Anne answered, “To put you in such an embarrassing position that everyone you know, especially your parents, your siblings, and your friends could never forgive or forget something you did.”

“Like what,” I countered, “Taking Randy to bed with me?”

Anne answered, “You are missing the point. A man and an unmarried women having sex happens every day. If it were to become known that you were going to bed with Randy, it might be unpleasant for you, but most people would not think it was extraordinary or very shameful.”

I replied, “Well if it isn’t having sex with Randy, what do you want me to do?”

For the first time since I met Anne, she looked hesitant. I had never seen Anne when she wasn’t in complete control, but now she had lost that confidence. She started to say something and stopped. She started again and stopped again. She blushed.

Finally Anne said, “This is my idea. It is probably a dumb idea, and I can’t believe I put it on the table, but I did. When Randy goes on a non sensitive mission, he is watched all the way. His room is bugged, and lately his hotel room has had secret cameras recording his every move. Obviously, they are hoping for a blackmail situation, and obviously Randy knows and avoids it. Since his wife died in a car accident, he has never dated nor messed around. I know. I tried.”

Anne continued, “We want to create a situation where they try to blackmail Randy. We think, however, that you will end up the real target.”

I asked, “Target me for what? Doing what?”

Anne waited a moment. Then she said, “With your family background—the achiever in your family—a disgrace to you would be devastating. They would expect you to do anything to avoid that disgrace. That’s what we are counting on.”

I repeated, “Do what?”

Anne said, “Sex.”

I said, “You just told me that sex with a man is nothing?”

Anne looked at me intently and said, “Sex with Randy and me.”

“What!”

Anne continued, “A threesome orgy is just the thing that should hook you. The family disgrace, your friends, it would be horrible. That’s what they want. That is what they look for and they would expect it to be a winner.”

I was stunned. Surprisingly, I wasn’t embarrassed at first. Without thinking I blurted, “But I haven’t had sex in over 3 years; how could I do that; what would I do?”

Anne replied, “It should look somewhat unplanned and for you it should appear that Randy and I are taking advantage of an insecure female caught in a situation that you could not handle. We would orchestrate the tryst so that it appeared as if you got caught in an evening of unplanned passion and sex. Something you would never do, but did. And it would be something that you would never do again. That’s the ideal blackmail situation; when someone gets caught doing something that they would never do in their day to day life.”

Anne, watching me closely asked, “Do you want to think about it?”

Almost hypnotized by the moment—my thoughts raced over what I was being told until I heard myself say, “I will do it.”

I never went into any type of deep thought about the answer. I said yes, and I committed myself to performing. I was nervous, but nervous that I would not do well, rather than I was doing it at all. Later that day I thought about what was going to happen. I was going to be naked in front of both Anne and Randy. They would do things to my body that I had never experienced before. How would I control myself? What would I feel?

Chapter 2

Weeks went by. Several times Randy or Anne said it might be next week, but then it was called off. Not only did the opposition have to know where Randy was going and where he was staying, but they had to have the means to bug and video the room. We could neither make it too easy, nor make it too hard. So three or four attempts went bad.

Finally Randy called me. He was in Paris. He said a key word and then continued, “I need two files—the Alpha II recap and the preliminary Delta report. Neither is sensitive enough to require an armed courier, but the protocol says that an employee from E Section must carry them. Are you free to fly over on the night flight, stay a night, and return?”

My voice catching replied, “Yes, no problem.”

Randy replied, “Excellent. Go to transportation and on my verbal orders have them make plane arrangements and hotel reservations where I am staying.” Without another word he hung up.

I arrived at DeGaulle early in the morning. I used my college French to direct the taxi to the hotel, and checked in. I was tired. I had not been able to sleep on the overnight flight. The inability to sleep might have been the newness of flying to a foreign country…or maybe I was afraid of what was about to happen. In either case, I was tired and apprehensive.

I immediately took a shower and then, overwhelmed, went to sleep since my meeting with Randy was not until five o’clock that evening. My alarm went off at four o’clock and I took another shower to wake up. I was feeling better, but still nervous. Standing before the mirror I looked at my naked body. My breasts stood out. I touched my nipples lightly and as I was watching, the nipples hardened. It brought a flush to me face.

I dressed in a simple black dress with straps leaving my shoulders bare. The bra and panties were standard issue. After all, I did not know what I was getting into.

At the same time Randy and Anne were in his mini-suite. The king-size bed, rare in Europe, took up two-thirds of the room and there was a small sitting area in front of the bed with a small couch and chair facing the television.

The conversation between Randy and Anne had been normal business. Nothing confidential was said as was expected among professionals. Randy, winking at Anne finally said, “So we have Katie with us tonight. What do you think?”

Anne replied, “She is your assistant--she is used to doing what you say. However, she certainly doesn’t throw her body around the office, although she really has a spectacular figure. I suggest we have a few drinks and see if the ice princess is really made of ice. If she doesn’t react appropriately, then maybe it’s you and me again—not the end of the world, is it?”

Randy replied, “Of course not Anne. Sex with you has always been spectacular.”

I knocked on Randy’s door at five o’clock. Anne opened the door and said, “Exactly on time. How was your trip?”

I replied, “Long, but no problems other than I had to show them my temporary courier identification to prevent security from searching the briefcase.”

Anne looked behind me to a man that had walked up and said, “Here is the package. Please take it to the office, secure it, and then you are free for the night.”

The man took the briefcase and left without a word.

Randy appeared and said, “I’m hungry and we all have had a rough 24 hours. I suggest we have a good meal and call it a day.”

We never left the hotel. The hotel restaurant was fantastic. Randy and Anne both spoke very good French and took over. They ordered for themselves and on my request, also ordered sole meunire for me. Randy took his time and then ordered two wines—a merlot and white chardonnay.

We sipped the wines, kept the conversation going, and then had the meal presented to us in the traditional French restaurant way. It was perfect, but I was nervous. Randy and Anne acted as if this was nothing more than a business meal. They talked, made small jokes, and never showed any inclination that this was other than fun. I, on the other hand, remained apprehensive. What was coming?

The first couple of glasses of wine did nothing to me. Somewhere between the third and fourth glass of wine, I relaxed. I laughed at the jokes. I tried to tell a few, but always missed the punch line.

Then Randy stood up and said, “Let’s have a nightcap upstairs, and then all of us get a good night’s sleep.” We agreed and followed him to his room.

Randy immediately made the drinks. My drink was strong and did not taste as good as the wine. I sat on the couch with my back to the bed. Randy was in the chair and Anne sat next to me.

Anne said, “You really look like the trip has caught up with you. Are you tired”?

I replied, “Yes, the eight hour flight, a short nap, and then the wine and dinner have been fun, but tiring. How do you and Randy put up with this type of traveling week after week?”

Anne said, “A big part of handling the travel is learning how to relax. Let me give you a shoulder massage to ease the strain and then off to bed you go.”

Without another word Anne got up and walked behind the couch and lightly touched my shoulders. I think I jumped a little. She griped my shoulders, squeezed and started massaging them. For a few minutes her hands worked on my bare shoulders and neck. Her hands were soft and she knew exactly how much pressure to apply to make my body relax. I looked at Randy who returned my look. I read nothing in his face.

Without my being aware, my shoulder straps had been pushed aside and Anne continued to massage my bare shoulders, neck and upper arms. It was comfortable and I closed my eyes. I felt her hands pull the back zipper down to reveal more of my shoulders and back. Her hands went farther down my back and chest. Finally her fingers lightly touched the top of my breasts. I involuntarily squeezed my legs together. I had to force myself not to reach and stop her hands.

There was dead silence in the room. Her hands were feathers as they continued to go back and forth over my chest and upper breasts. Then her hands went deeper. Her fingers slipped under my bra and lightly caressed my nipples. I moaned quietly my head back against the couch, my hands at my side.

For minutes Anne silently massaged my back, shoulders, and breasts. At some point she unclasped my bra. I was barely awake, but her hands were starting to arouse my body. My legs parted slightly and I no longer wanted Anne to stop.

Anne finally unzipped the back of my dress so that it lay at my waist. Her fingers lightly cupped the bottom of my breasts lifting them slightly while her thumbs gently kneaded my nipples that were now hard points of sensitivity. She leaned over my shoulders and lightly kissed each nipple and then went back and gently sucked them. I whimpered and I could feel the moisture invade my panties.