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Vengeance, Part 3 Scotland – December, 2000 Knight relaxed in his bunker checking on the progress of each of his teams. So far, three of the teams had picked up Fletcher Balfour’s friends without drawing any attention to themselves. The fourth team was still waiting to pick up Seth Holden. Anika was in position and had phoned several times suggesting she be allowed to make her move early since young Fletcher seemed to be alone at the flat that his father kept available in London’s East End. Knight hated to change plans, but he had to admit the situation looked favorable to moving early. He checked with Hammer Harry and found that everything was progressing as scheduled with Dr. Collins. Knight phoned Anika and told her to make her move when she was ready. London – December, 2000 Anika relaxed in the luxury of the Bentley, pulling the ankle length sable coat closely around herself. Like Knight, she disliked changing a plan – but, young Balfour was alone in the warehouse flat after three days of pub crawling with various friends. This was the first time he had really been alone and away from crowds since Thursday. After consulting one last time with Knight, who agreed that a change of plans would suit them better, Anika took inventory of her equipment. She slid a hypodermic needle into a specially prepared pouch of her knee length boots. One pocket of her sable coat had a stun gun and the other held her cell phone. Except for leather panties and bustier, she was naked under the fur coat. She was ready. The darkened partition between the front and back slid down and the mournful face of her chauffeur/bodyguard, Max twisted over the seat. If Max had been taller, he could easily have passed as a twin for Hammer Harry. He was nearly as broad, and like Harry, heavily muscled – his head was shaved as clean as an egg. Only the eyes were different. Harry’s were cold and unforgiving, but Max’s eyes were dark and sad – giving him the look of a mournful basset hound. “Look – whyn’t you just let me go on up and give the git a couple love taps?” Max asked, his voice almost as deep and gravelly as Harry’s. “A couple of smacks and I’ll be able to put him on me shoulder and carry him down like this week’s laundry.” “Stop being so overprotective, Max,” Anika chided the big man. “I’ve got your number programmed into the phone – if anything goes wrong, all I need to do is hit the send button and you can come charging in. Trust me, this boy will be putty in my hands – besides, if you go up and slap him around, I won’t get a chance to play with him.” Anika smiled devilishly. “And, you know how much I like my little games with special boys – and this one is very special.” “I still don’t like it,” Max repeated. “You got a hour – I don’t hear from you in a hour and I’m coming in there.” “Yes, Papa Bear,” Anika smiled, using her pet name for the chauffeur. “I promise to ring you in an hour or less.” Pulling the coat close around her, Anika climbed out of the Bentley and crossed the street to the flat. Originally a warehouse on the river, the building had been transformed into luxury condos during the ‘eighties. Balfour had rented half of the top floor overlooking the Thames. Anika’s plan was fairly simple – she planned to simply knock on the door and pretend she was expecting to meet one of Duncan Balfour’s associates who occasionally used the flat for his entertaining. Taking the lift to the top floor, Anika checked the corridor to make sure no one else was loitering there before spreading the fur coat wide and striding down the hall. “Tony,” she called in her most seductive voice as she rang the buzzer, “Tony, it’s cold out here, baby.” The door swung open revealing Fletcher Balfour in only his briefs – his auburn hair tousled and sticking up, his face was covered with reddish stubble, and from the way he was blinking his eyes, he had been napping. Seeing Anika almost naked under the sable coat was enough to wake him up. His blue eyes roved up and down her body. Anika could see the lust building behind those eyes. “Well, hello there,” Fletcher grinned. “You’re not Tony,” Anika pouted, running her fingers through her white blonde hair, doing her best to look like a disappointed vixen. “Tony said anytime I am in London to come play with him – here I am all ready to play and no Tony.” “Well, that is a shame,” Fletcher said. “He borrows the flat from my family sometimes.” He smiled broadly, showing his even, white teeth and deep dimples. “Maybe you’d like to come in and play with me.” “You are almost prettier than Tony,” Anika cooed. “I like pretty boys.” “Almost?” “Tony’s face is always smooth and soft,” Anika said, running her palm across Fletcher’s stubbled face. “I like the feel of soft skin under my hands – and lips and tongue.” She brushed past him, letting her body rub against his. “Well, I was just about to shave when you showed up,” Fletcher answered smoothly. “Make yourself at home and when I’m finished, you can check to see if I did a good job.” “I have a better idea,” Anika said, pressing herself close to his body. “Why don’t you relax while I do the work? I promise I’ll make you nice and smooth – and very, very happy.” She could feel the press of his cock against his thigh, straining to be free of the bikini briefs that confined it even before she started licking his chest. Fletcher eagerly led her into the enormous bathroom. Anika was impressed with the marble room – it boasted a large whirlpool spa-style tub, lavish shower stall with a bench, and in the center of the room was a chaise lounge in red velvet. Thick lambskin rugs were placed strategically in front of the tub, shower, lounge, and sink. The tub was already filled, clearly Fletcher had been preparing to clean himself up for another night of carousing. Anika seductively removed the sable coat and placed it beside the chaise – she planned to inject the young man there, and the coat was strategically placed for easy access. Taking charge, Anika led Fletcher to the hot tub, gently removed his bikini briefs and let his erection spring free. Young Balfour had every right to be proud of his package – Anika had no accurate way of measuring, but he appeared to have at least nine inches on him. His balls hung loose and low, just perfect for playing with Anika mused. She gave the tip of his cock a little kiss, with the promise of more to come as she made him step into the tub and had him recline into it. He tried to get her to join him, but Anika pointed out that she hadn’t brought her makeup case and didn’t want to ruin her makeup in a bath. Before Fletcher could protest, she knelt by the side of the tub and began lathering his chest, teasing his nipples and making him forget anything else. Anika was tempted to inject the young man as he leaned back in the tub, enjoying her ministrations. But, that would mean she wouldn’t have the fun of playing with him some more and she’d have to make sure he didn’t slip under the water and drown. No, she’d continue to enjoy the setup and take him a little later. Reaching under the water, Anika stroked his thick dick, more to continue teasing him than to actually wash him. She pulled his ball sac, stretching it and tickling it with her nails. She smiled, knowing that he wouldn’t have those impressive balls between his legs for much longer. It didn’t take long for her to have Fletcher totally in her control – she pushed him under the water to wet his hair before shampooing it. Working the lather into the thick, auburn hair Anika dug her fingers deep into the wet mass as she massaged his scalp. By the time she let him step out of the tub and into the bath sheet she held up for him, Fletcher belonged to her. She toweled him dry from head to toe and led him over to the chaise where he once more found himself reclining before the stunning blonde. Anika made sure to wiggle her ass seductively as she gathered a brush, shaving crème, and an old fashioned cut throat straight razor from the vanity to keep Fletcher entertained. Returning to the chaise, she straddled the young man and leaned close to him, giving him a good look down her cleavage, as she brushed his hair. She could feel his cock rubbing against her buttocks, jerking and twitching with anticipation. She took her time brushing the thick reddish brown locks – Fletcher’s hair was sensuously soft and inviting, Anika found she enjoyed playing with it. Eventually his damp hair was dry and neatly brushed – Anika decided it was time to move along. Draping the bath sheet across her chest, Anika shook the can of shaving cream and took her time massaging the white foam onto his face. Fletcher showed some nervousness seeing the straight razor in her hand, asking if she knew what she was doing with that. Assuring him she was an expert, Anika then began unlacing the bustier – effectively making him forget all about his concerns. Standing, Anika removed the bustier, revealing the most perfect breasts Fletcher had ever seen. His hungry eyes traveled down her body to the trimmed patch of pubic hair – Anika kept it trimmed in a heart shape. Smiling, she spread her legs wide and lowered herself onto his cock, tightening her vaginal muscles as she went down. Fletcher gasped at the sensation – he’d never felt anyone so tight before. He returned her smile as she leaned forward and began removing the white foam from his face. She slowly raised and lowered her hips as she drew the straight razor across his face in long, even passes. Taking her time, Anika cooed to Fletcher to let her do all the work – she’d take him places he’d never been before. Wiping the last traces of foam from his face, Anika leaned forward again and kissed the young man. He responded eagerly – his mouth open and tongue pushing into her mouth. His hands pawed at her hair, pulling her tighter to him. Shifting her position slightly, Anika reached down and retrieved the syringe. Horny young men made her work so much easier, she thought. Flipping the protective tip off with practiced fingers, Anika plunged the needle into the flesh between his neck and shoulder. His brown eyes snapped open, startled at the sudden stab of pain. He reacted quicker than Anika expected, slapping her hard in the face. Leaping off him, Anika regained her balance and stepped back. “You fucking bitch,” Fletcher cried, trying to stand. Picking up her coat, Anika just smiled – the drugs were already working. Fletcher’s erection was quickly subsiding and his arms and legs refused to coordinate themselves to his movements. Reaching into the pocket of her coat, Anika retrieved the stun gun – there really wasn’t need for it, the young man’s eyes were already glazing. Her seductive smile turned harsh as she reached out and pressed the stun gun to his balls. Fingering the button, she sent a shock through those beautiful balls sending a convulsion of pain through young Balfour. He flopped back on the chaise, his mouth contorted in pain just before he passed out. Anika pulled the phone from her other pocket and hit the send button. “Max darling, it’s all over up here,” Anika said into the phone, not even waiting to hear Max’s grunt of greeting. She knew he was down in the car with the phone in his hand just waiting to hit the receive button. She broke the connection and busied herself with getting dressed as she waited for Max to lumber up the stairs. It didn’t take long before Max was knocking on the door and standing over Fletcher in the bathroom. “Cor, look at him,” Max said, staring down at the limp body. “You’re sure he ain’t dead.” “He’s not dead,” Anika assured him. “Why’s his eye’s open like that?” Max wanted to know. “Because he’s not unconscious, Max,” Anika said. “He can hear everything going on around him – he might have a hard time remembering it – this will seem like a dream to him.” Max shrugged – as long as they delivered Fletcher alive, Knight would be happy and that’s what mattered most to Max. He disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a blanket, which he wrapped around the young man. Max didn’t even grunt as he hefted Fletcher up onto his shoulder. He went down the stairs to the street as if it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be carrying a barely conscious body on his shoulder. In the street, Anika directed Max to dump Fletcher in the back seat with her. Once the Bentley pulled away from the curb, Anika placed a call to Knight letting him know Fletcher had been taken. Breaking the connection, Anika turned to the limp young man and started fondling his flaccid penis – the poor boy didn’t even reach orgasm before she injected him, and she knew Knight probably wouldn’t let him have another chance. Laughing, she playfully slapped the limp penis from side to side like a kitten batting a ball of string. On impulse, she rooted around in her makeup case on the floor and pulled out a lipstick in a brilliant red. Leaning over Fletcher’s slack muscled form, she applied the lipstick to his lips laughing at how ridiculous he looked. It didn’t take long before the Bentley slowed and entered the warehouse where Fletcher would be transferred to the helicopter. As soon as the car came to a stop, Max got out and lifted Fletcher out of the car and carried him to a waiting chair. Holding the limp form in place for Anika, Max watched as she strapped the boy to the chair, his head lolling like a rag doll. Once Anika had the young man strapped to the chair, Max quickly set out floodlights, aiming them so that Fletcher was bathed in harsh white light. Anika retrieved an instant camera from the office and told Max to hold the young man’s head up for the pictures. Max grabbed Fletcher’s forelock and pulled his head back as Anika snapped several pictures. The Icelandic beauty waited for the pictures to develop to make sure they were clear, before slipping them into an envelope. Next, she set up a video camera and positioned a monitor so she could see it while standing by the chair. She disappeared into the office again and returned dragging an extension cord into which heavy, industrial hair clippers had been plugged. She handed Max an empty shoebox and took up her position over Fletcher. Checking the monitor to make sure her face wasn’t picked up by the camera, Anika started the clippers and grabbing a handful of Fletcher’s luxuriant hair began buzzing it off. She dropped each shorn handful of hair into the shoebox. By the time she had removed all of the auburn hair, the box was full with the soft, reddish locks. Max rewound the tape and played it back to make sure everything had been captured on the tape before rewinding it again and ejecting the tape from the camcorder. Anika placed the videocassette on top of Fletcher’s shorn locks in the box and taped it shut. She placed the shoebox, the envelope with the pictures, and a DVD disc from Knight into another box and sealed that shut as well and then nodded to Max. He knew what to do – taking the box under his arm, he made his way from the warehouse and down the street to the nearest pub. Entering the pub, he glanced around once – the scowl on his face making it clear to the rough patrons that he was not a man to fuck with. He spotted a youth towards the back of the pub and jerked his head towards the door. The youth didn’t even waste time with a nod – he just jumped to his feet and made straight for the street. Max liked that – this kid didn’t fuck around, that was a good sign. Out on the street, Sam More stood almost at attention as he received his orders from Max. He was only sixteen years old, but had already proved his skills as a runner for a criminal Max knew. According to the criminal, young Sam knew when to keep his mouth shut and could follow orders. If he did well tonight, Max would make sure the kid had steady work. “Listen, you take this box to the address on the top, see,” Max instructed. “You tell the geezer at the door this has to be delivered directly to Mister Duncan Fletcher hisself. Now, they probably won’t let you see him – but make sure the message is passed along, right?” “Box to be delivered to Duncan Fletcher hisself,” Sam repeated. “Mister,” Max corrected. “Always mind your manners – give respect and get respect back.” “Yessir,” Sam said, accepting the correction. “Now, it’s just possible that they might give you a bit of aggro,” Max warned. “Keep your cool – nothing will happen to you. The man in charge is going to see to that. Besides, you don’t know nothing. You don’t even know me.” “Gotcha,” Sam assured him. “Good lad,” Max handed the box over. “Do this right and I’ll take care of you. Now, off with you.” Max watched as Sam pulled a helmet over his head and carefully strapped the box to the back of a motorscooter. He nodded, in a bout an hour Duncan Fletcher would get the first of the news that was going to really fuck up his New Year’s celebration. Max turned and trudged back to the warehouse. To be continued in Part 4
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