Chapter 11

Ginger's training went faster now that she no longer fought it. She spent many hours watching the tapes on TV and eventually felt she knew as much as she could learn about Ilsa and Duke.

She also stared working out in the small gym and repeatedly drew a standing ovation after doing aerobics in the nude.

She thought Ilsa was really wanton. One film showed her using a vibrator that put Walter's monster cock to shame. Ginger watched the film several times, and still simply could not understand how Ilsa, or any woman, could take anything so big without pain. Ilsa seemed to have no trouble, however. The huge tool slid in as easily as if it had been a small one hung on a man.

God, I'll bet her cunt is stretched so far that no man, even one as large as Walter, can fill her.

Then Ginger watched another film of Ilsa taking on five men and changed her mind. The woman had a cock in her cunt, one in her ass, one in her mouth, and one in each hand. And she made every one of them cum. Nearly simultaneously. Ginger also watched that one several time, fascinated by the contortions Ilsa had to perform to accomplish the feat.

There weren't any films showing Ilsa with other women. Ginger had to accept on faith that the woman did indeed like to go both ways. She was sure she would find out before long.

Nor were there any films showing Duke engaged in any sexual activity.

Maybe he's impotent. Or simply doesn't like sex. Which means I won't have to worry about keeping him satisfied and can concentrate on Ilsa. Just have to wait and see.

There were also numerous films on the art and techniques of making love. A woman with a man, a woman with another woman, multiple men with a woman, multiple women with a man and multiple women.

Ginger stayed in a constant state of carnal arousal. Her batteries were constantly fully charged.

But she never suffered from frustration. Whenever she wanted to try something she saw in a film, she called out and either Dawn, Hank or Adam, or all three if she wished, came to her rescue, whatever the hour.

"Do you three ever sleep?" Ginger asked one night after a particularly strenuous bout of fucking.

"We sleep when you do," Hank replied. "There's a motion detector in your room that alerts us when you get up."

"All the modern surveillance techniques," Ginger said.

"It's your show, and you're the star," Dawn said. "Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets."

"Are your orders to cater to my every wish?"

"Within reason," Adam said. "We won't do anything that might cause you pain, no matter how much you might beg."

"Then we're on safe ground," Ginger said. "I'm not into pain and suffering. You know you're spoiling me."

"And you love every minute of it!" Dawn laughed.

Bernie came every day for a lengthy briefing. Try as she might, and try hard she did, Ginger could not get him to fuck her. She stayed nude during the briefings, turned her chair toward him, spread her legs and played with her pussy, told him in detail everything she did with Dawn and the men, bluntly invited him to see for himself that she was no longer frigid. Nothing worked. He ignored her advances and went on with the briefing. Ginger finally gave up on him in frustration.

"If you won't fuck me," she pouted, "tell Walter to fill in for you. I want a cock as big as his before I have to deal with Duke."

"From all indications, Duke can't hold a candle to Walter," Bernie replied. "Besides, Walter has other duties. If you want a man as well hung as Walter, you can find one after you finish the job. Remember, you'll have a million bucks. You can buy as many men as you want."

"Yeah," Ginger said sarcastically, "I can imagine asking every man I meet to show me his cock so I can be sure of getting a big one before I take him home."

"You're a very resourceful girl," Bernie replied. "You'll find a way."

Ginger gave up and changed the subject. "Bernie, how did you get those tapes of Ilsa? I can't imagine anyone in her position posing for them, or allowing cameras at one of her sessions."

"Our clients got them. When you have enough money, you can get anything."

"They might not have so much money if she brings her formula to market."

"Now you know why they're willing to spend big bucks to get it."

"A million bucks is chicken feed to them, Bernie."

"Don't forget they're also paying me."

"Still chicken feed. Listen, I've figured out I'm the only one on this case. You wouldn't have trained me to turn on to women if you had a man going after Ilsa. Which means I have to deal with her. Which means I need to know a little more about this formula of hers. Does her new fuel require a new engine?

"No. It acts just like gasoline or diesel, but is cheaper, burns cleaner and you get a lot more miles per gallon."

"I see. Looks like she's sitting in the cat bird seat. What kind of a deal can I make with her?"

"You're authorized to go as high as five million. Offer her two, and go from there."

"Oh, Bernie, get real! She can make a billion the first year after she brings her new fuel to market."

"Our clients won't let her bring it to market, Ginger," Bernie said solemnly.

"Oh, so that's the way it is?"

"That's the way it is, baby. If you don't get the formula, she's history."

"Then I guess I'd better get the damn thing. Why aren't there any films of Duke? You said he-likes to fuck young women with red hair and big tits, so he can't be gay."

"I asked. Our clients said Duke is a very private person. They base their assumption on women seen entering his home." Bernie shrugged. "Their assumption could be way off base. You'll just have to play that one by ear. Or whatever else you want to use."

Then came the day she was ready to venture forth and tackle her new assignment. Of course, there was an orgy that night.

During a lull in the action that evening, Dawn asked, "Bernie said you were known as the Velvet Vixen when you worked for the intelligence service. How did you get such an unusual nickname?"

"As usual, Bernie talked out of turn," Ginger said. "Everyone in the service has a code name. Supposedly, they're assigned at random by a computer. In my case, some wit, a man of course, gave me the name Vixen. He said I had a temper like a vixen, so I ought to have the name.

"Of course, I rose to the occasion. I thought a vixen was a female fox. I didn't mind being called a fox. That's a compliment. But I got angry when they tied the temper to it. In other words, I did just what they expected me to do. I always thought a fox-the little animal, that is-was a cute little thing. I still don't know why they call women foxes. Unless it's because we, too, have a bushy tail. Anyway, I didn't know about the other definition of vixen until one of the instructors told me that it also means a quarrelsome woman. Guess I was a lot more quarrelsome then.

"The velvet got hung on later. My first assignment was a toughie. I got it because they thought no one could get it done, and they didn't want any of the old hands to get a black mark on their records. I found out about that later, of course. But I outfoxed them. I had to take a lot of shit and use a lot of tact, which I wasn't supposed to have, but I got the job done. Turned out it was an important one, too."

As a parting gift, in addition to fucking her nearly senseless at the orgy, Dawn and Hank and

Adam gave her a stack of video tapes. Copies of the tapes made while she was at the clinic, as a memoir of her progress.

"We thought you might like to watch them later," Dawn said. "Or share them with your friends."

"Good God," Ginger gasped, astounded by the number. "There must be at least fifty of the damn things!" She kissed her three friends happily. "I can hardly wait to have a very intimate party. To which you will be invited, of course! And, just for you guys, I'll find some more women so you'll really have a blast!"

"Try to find some who aren't as voracious as you," Hank teased. "I can't think of a better way to die, but I'd like to live a few more years."

Ginger kept one important thought in mind as she left the clinic. Somehow, she was going to find a way to turn the tables on dear old Bernie!