Chapter 3

"So," Morgana Finch said, scanning the news from her computer screen, "he's taken a hostage-a F.U.R. agent, no less. How typical. The man is highly predictable, a creature of habit."

"He's shown a preference for the women of that organization," noted her partner, Greg Newton. "I would agree with his consistency."

Morgana proudly nodded. "I was correct from the start. The man relinquished his post, seized that buxom agent for his pet and faded from sight. He might believe himself invisible, but I've tagged him. His whereabouts are no mystery to me. We were once lovers. I've known him only too well."

Greg couldn't resist teasing her. "Are you a woman scorned, Morgana, or simply one starved for a promotion?"

The curvaceous brunette accepted his dig. "Figure it out, Greg. We're officers of B.O.N.E. Advancement is earned, not gifted. I would have commanded the disc operation if Randy Reynolds hadn't muscled his way through. Now that F.U.R. and M.E.A.T. put our former captain behind bars, there's still a chance."

"This discs are a dead issue. They've ceased production."

Morgana gave nothing away. "True, creation of the truth-distilling gadget has gone by the wayside, but our scientists are on the verge of introducing something far more effective."

Greg's interest rose. "What have they concocted? Tell me."

Morgana maintained her sauciness. "It's top secret. Only a privileged few have the details."

He strolled behind the voluptuous woman and gripped her shoulders. Her perfumed scent riled his senses. "You can't divulge a pearl like that and withhold the rest," he whispered.

Morgana smirked. "Are we in a begging mood? You'll have to do much better than that."

Greg disliked when she withheld information. She usually had something up her sleeve when she spoke in that fashion. One was rarely certain what she had stored in her bag of tricks. Her brilliance alone accelerated her to the rank of lieutenant. She had hardly been modest about her yen for elevation.

Morgana's rise hinged upon her proving Jon Monroe's desertion. He stood next in line to follow the deposed Randy Reynolds. B.O.N.E. questioned his loyalty, but hadn't rendered judgment. Should her smear-campaign succeed, the title was hers to claim.

Conversely, a miscalculation on Morgana's part would draw criticism from her superiors, at which Greg could theoretically snare it. He had plotted her downfall for months, waiting for just the chance to yank the carpet from under her feet.

"We're privy to the same classified items," he said, nibbling on her ear. "You ought to share this latest invention with me."

Her first inclination was to ignore Greg Newton. Teasing him was fun. She enjoyed having him at her mercy, listening to his pleas for the valuable tidbits she'd uncovered. She couldn't, however, simply discount his sex appeal. Greg represented six-foot-two of pure man. His blond hair, flecked with gold, framed virile features. His bedroom-blue eyes stirred and compelled her.

His teeth raked her ear lobe. She shivered. "Why should I do that?" she softly asked.

Slowly, he palmed her large breasts. The plunging top she wore opened, spilling them from captivity. Her lack of a bra excited him. Those big tits needed restraint. He clenched his teeth when stroking her thick stubs. She whimpered at his tweak.

"Christ, you're hot, Morgana.

Her head tilted to the side, offering her nape. He descended upon it, caressing it with his lips. Leisurely, he spun her around and feasted upon her exposed bosom. He'd seen her naked before, but the spontaneity of the moment eclipsed all previous ventures.

Morgana's emerald pupils intrigued him. She had cat's eyes, which had an exotic slant. Her sensual lips were designed for pleasure. In gazing at her, he perceived no objection to his liberty taken of disrobing her.

She had long, pink-painted fingernails that enhanced her sexiness. Raking his broad shoulders, she moaned.

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her luscious fragrance. Her female essence made him rock-hard. He bulged in his pants while mouthing that vulnerable section. Originally, he meant to arouse her, but got heated up, too. She writhed against his pucker while groping him. Her fingers raced over his stiffened cock, dispensing tiny jolts. She palmed his throbbing member, feverishly working him. He groaned as pre-cum oozed from his tip and dampened his briefs.

"Oh, yeah," he panted.

They forgot they were in the computer lab, where discovery was a definite risk. Their subordinates, touring the various floors of the building, could find them. Neither cared. Desire burned through them like liquid fire.

Greg trailed passionate kisses from her throat to those enlarged nipples, then sucked one. He mildly scraped it with his teeth while adding spit. His tongue swirled over her nub, urging growth.

Morgana, leaning against the desk, sobbed and shivered.

He peeled off the rest of her outfit, and soon had her naked. Saliva bridged from his sucking lips to that pointed end. She gasped and swallowed when his mouth left her.

Proceeding down her front, he licked his way to her snatch. His wriggling tip circled her navel, pausing for a quick dab. When his nose went through her brown bush, he sniffed. The dizzying aroma of love dew came. He opened her pussy with his tongue, then dove into it.

"Oh, God." She sucked air through her teeth and held it several beats. He probed her juicy groove, extending to her spongy core. The excitement he generated rose through her body. Her nipples hardened at his prolonged drill. She clenched at his stimulating movement.

Greg's mouth filled with her sweet nectar. He sipped from those dilated folds, rinsing her flavor over his palate. Some pussies tasted good, but Morgana's was naturally sweet. He scooped the honey from those delectable flaps, smacking his lips.

Morgana glanced at his tongue lazily caressing her pussy before her head lobbed. Her vision doubled as he lapped her cunt.

Greg noted her disorientation and sought to profit from it. He slowed his oral assault. "What is B.O.N.E. planning to release?" he slyly prompted.

Morgana was hardly in a condition to explain. He orbited her clit, threatening to subject her to a throat-numbing ordeal. Gripping the edge of the desk, she fed him her pussy. His lips rolled over her sodden patch, then locked. The suction was incredible. He siphoned her moisture with each pull. Roughly, he brushed her agitated flesh, constantly reminding her that she was inside a man's mouth.

Greg yearned for her to divulge B.O.N.E.'s latest technological advancement, but settled for a little sexual bribery. They'd fucked a few times before. Morgana had previously sampled the package. She knew the goods were top quality.

He secured her sodden flaps with his thumbs and slurped them. Pushing his nose into that brown nest, he sucked her for all he was worth. Her squeals of joy pleased him. He wanted to drive her out of her mind, and from her dazed look, he could essentially taste victory. Gasping, she pressed her snatch to his face. He enclosed her shapely buns, anchoring himself to that mound.

She probably never had head that good, he suspected. He channeled his artistic efforts into every arresting lick. After he made her cum, he'd grill her again. The nature of B.O.N.E.'s fiendish devices always fascinated him. He was dying to learn about what was currently in production.

Once he knew, he'd blame Morgana for the leakage-along with a list of other accusations that would ultimately discredit her. He would exploit her betrayal to the highest ranking officer and see to her discharge.

He drank thirstily from her pussy, gulping that tangy nectar. Grasping that luscious ass, he pressed her flush to his rippling mouth. Her juices sprinkled his flapping tongue.

Morgana, propped by her elbows, slid forward on the desk. Her dark hair tumbled in a heap, her green eyes sparkled and her luxuriant lips quaked. She looked a delectable mess. Her hips pivoted as he lashed her honey-laced loins. "Yeah, oh, yeah," she chanted, her cool deteriorating beneath his splendor-giving stroke. "Ohhhhh." Biting her bottom lip, she shook convulsively.

Binding his lips to her tremulous flesh, he derived joy from her wrenching climax. Morgana, riddled with contractions, thrashed against his mouth. He sucked the fluid from that sticky snatch. , Greg couldn't contain his lust another second. Morgana's orgasm affected him. He yanked down his zipper and whipped out his cock. She cried out as his plump helmet spread those lips and sank into her shivering center.

"Oh, God," she yelped, taking all he had. He lowered his dick into her wet, wanting hole. Gritting her teeth, she surrendered to that hard mass filling her pussy. Her eyes shut before his golden pubes meshed with her dark ones and his balls smashed her sopping entrance. "That feels so good."

Greg, grabbing her ankles, pushed her across the surface of the desk. Her head abutted the keyboard to the computer. The mop of brown hair nearly hid her beautiful face. Lifting those sleek legs, he lunged into her hot loins. He cunt smoothly received him. Every bit of his beating member jammed her cunt. He retained himself in her pulsing depths, then partially withdrew. Her pussy had awesome gripping power. He stroked her slowly, fighting the urge to pound. Morgana gradually responded and fucked back.

"Yeah," she whimpered. "Oh yeah."

Greg could have quickly cum, yet the craving for knowledge controlled him.

"Is B.O.N.E. reviving the disc?" he slyly asked. "Or have they concocted something far more brutal?"

Morgana eluded his gaze. She concentrated on pushing herself at his oncoming dick. Her pussy carefully milked him, the flaps catching his skin and affording him a pleasurable pinch. Dislodging himself, he kept moving and groaned from their siphoning strength.

"God," he muttered, overwhelmed by the reward her cunt provided. He crammed himself into that sopping hole, almost getting off from its tingling tension. Those pink lips wrapped his burrowing shaft, giving their squeezing love. He pumped her faster, assuming a gratifying pace. "Give it to me, baby. Give me that tight pussy."

He would get her to do as he wished. She could be managed through sex.

Morgana moaned strongly from his quick pumping action. Having escalated to a diligent speed, he madly pumped her. The loud, juicy gulps that snatch took of him kindled a raging fire. After studying his uniform entry, he noted the twist of her cunt lips and fucked her a little harder. Eventually, stopping was not an option.

Sweat cropped his brow. He peered into those emerald eyes while their groins collided. She moaned and perspired, submitting to his hungry thrusts. Her folds locked him, rubbing him all the way to the stem. His balls whacked her ass.

He dragged her to him by the ankles. Her lips widened, then her tongue skimmed their lush borders as he hammered into that hot squish. Her tits shook with each penetrating slam, the nipples flicking its drops. His lunging was accompanied by a low, guttural cry as he hastened to unburden himself. That pussy screamed for his drenching release.

"Are you ready for me?" he asked, nearly blinded from the sweat. His face was awash from that salty trickle.

She nodded with her eyes closed. He could feel her reaching for orgasm. Those cuntal walls steadily stroked him, taking what they needed. Her tremors culminated into violate quaking.

"Yes," she shrieked, committing to the sensation. "Oh, yes. Yes, baby. Do it."

Greg furiously spurted into that vibrating snatch. His cock twitched within her spongy boundaries, flooding her with cum. He howled in abandon as he emptied himself. Relief glutted him.

"Whew," he muttered, waiting for his heart to resume a normal beat. He withdrew his cock and ignored the creamy goo pouring from her dark pink, freshly fucked lips. The volume of jism didn't surprise him; he hadn't had pussy for several days. "Oh, baby, you were so good."

He tried dispelling the fog that clouded his mind. Morgana's squeeze brought a lasting tingle. Gasping, he stroked his still-hard shaft, and considered putting it back in for more. He kneaded his dick, causing his tip to ooze the rest of that white stuff.

"I think I need you again," he muttered, contemplating another round of body-slamming sex. Without looking, he reached for her ankles. The rivulets continued to affect his vision.

Morgana had moved. He wiped away the stream just before the metal object grazed his upper arm. A fierce static shock jarred his entire body. He yelped in pain and nursed the afflicted area.

"Hey, what did you do that for?" he growled, massaging it. A fever overtook him, along with a strange commotion ravaging his nervous system.

"Did you take me for a fool?" she asked, glaring at him. "Trying to obtain forbidden information from me at my weakest moment, eh? I've known your plot all along. Your motives are transparent, Greg."

Greg's condition grew worse. "What's happening to me?"

"That was a taste of B.O.N.E.'s newest weapon, and you are the sacrificial lamb," she said. "It's a modified version of F.U.R.'s stun-vibrator, but instead of knocking you out, it's going to throw you at my mercy. You will honestly answer each of my questions."

"You bitch," he growled as his pores exuded fresh sweat. He dropped into a chair, distrusting his balance. The wave of queasiness would not abate. "God damn you, bitch."

She took pleasure in his stupefaction. Contortions snarled his handsome face. She watched him uselessly fight the delirium that invariably seized him. The charge dispensed by the Mind Zapper attacked his faculties and would place him in a more contributory frame. The scientists at B.O.N.E., displeased with the formidable task of pinning the metal disc to the forehead, saw the abrupt touch of the metal device as superior. The discs were deemed cumbersome and old hat.

She patiently waited until Greg fully sank into a foggy state. A low groan bubbled from this throat. His blue eyes were seen through slits and his breathing was still labored. Slumped in the seat, naked with his legs thrown apart, she sniffed her pussy juice on his limp cock. The Mind Zapper had done its job.

She hopped on the desk and crossed her slim, tanned legs. A sinister smile creased her lips. Turning the tables on him presented a delicious moment. "Your ass is mine, baby. You were going to embarrass me in front of the committee, weren't you?"

Mechanically, he nodded.

"Describe your plan."

He confessed, in fragmented sentences, how he contrived pinning the blame on her before B.O.N.E.'s new weapon surfaced. Supplying fake blueprints to M.E.A.T. and F.U.R., warning them of their latest invention would spell her undoing. He ended his revelation with a strong desire to assume Randy Reynolds' post.

"That won't happen, baby," she said, laughing in his face. "Upon awakening, you won't have the same confidence. It'll take months to fully recover, and when you do, I'll be in position-and you'll be shipped to Antarctica."

Greg, with leaden limbs, grumbled while she disclosed her strategy. Exuding a drenching sweat, he struggled to remain conscious through her gloating announcement. Christ, he could feel that stunning jolt down to his bones.

Morgana cackled. When the electrical dosage wore off, the episode would be scrapped from his memory. Greg would be a meek creature, useless for militant action. B.O.N.E. would immediately put the man out to pasture. For his duplicity, he would suffer a severe punishment.

She, conversely, would reign supreme. Already, she had hundreds of the Mind Zappers commissioned for assembly. B.O.N.E. would systematically release them to select groups, allowing the organization to reclaim control over the world.

Her interrogation ended, she waited for the introductory shock to fade. Greg stirred in his seat, gasping. She noted the new erection he sported. As with the mind-controlling disc, the Mind Zapper bore the same side effect. The victim fiercely craved sex.

His head continued to rest against the back of the chair. His eyes glistened, his mouth taut. Silently, he beckoned her.

She put a finger to the bulbous head. His dick stood upright, ready to take her again. "Sorry, Greg. You'll have to find a substitute. I have too much to do. Perhaps one of the chicks in the infirmary will relieve you of your next load."

Greg stroked his cock. His fist slid over his cunt-greased shaft, sending pleasure through his groin.

Morgana smirked. It had been good, but there were other men. She had to lay the foundation for a new rebellion, and had no time for cock.