Stress Relief Read online

  Stress Relief

  by

  Evangeline Anderson

  KINDLE EDITION

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Evangeline Anderson on Amazon

  Stress Relief

  Copyright © 2012 by Evangeline Anderson

  Kindle Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another

  person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're

  reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only,

  then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for

  respecting the author's work.

  Author's note: This is just a hot little fantasy I wrote after rewatching the Bourne Identity. I've always been a big fan of James Bond or any kind of spy movie, really. But I like the idea of a spy who has been conditioned to be a mindless, merciless killer turning out to be something else instead. For those of you looking for the next Kindred book, don't worry--it's on the way! I hope to have it out before the end of 2012 and in the meantime, you can enjoy a preview of chapter one at the end of this book. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy this kinky little tale of hot and scary secret agent sex.

  Happy Reading!

  Evangeline Anderson

  Chapter One

  Andi Tibideaux stared at the ominous scarlet lines spiking on her monitor. This wasn’t good. This definitely wasn’t good. He was in the red and Alpha never stayed in the red this long. He was a cool customer—the coolest the Agency had. So why was he in the red? And why did it have to be now, when none of her specially constructed “girls” was available?

  She cursed the bad timing that had forced her to set up dates for both Beta and Delta at the same time. It was bad luck too, that she was short on girls. Just the week before Beta had rendered the best one she had inoperative and it wouldn’t be back from the Agency’s repair shop for another week at least. Damn it, why now?

  Fumbling in her nervousness, Andi swept a strand of dark brown hair behind one ear and turned to the lead reinforced panel built into the right hand corner of her unremarkable looking desk. It took her three tries to key in the correct sequence on the hidden keypad on the underside of the desk but at last she managed. There was a small, discrete beep and the panel slid open.

  Inside in a tray lined with black velvet were four multi-faceted crystal indicators, each about the size of her thumb and each connected to a microchip implant in one of the agents. The indicators for Delta and Gamma were pulsing fitfully, dim flashes of light coming from within their cores. That made sense—agents Delta and Gamma were currently working on some serious stress relief so the jewels connected to them would pulse until they were stress free. Andi pressed the pad of her forefinger to each one in turn—warm but not burning up. Again, as expected.

  The indicator connected to agent Beta was cool to touch and very dim. Andi shivered in disgust. It ought to stay that way for a good long time, too. When she thought about the damage he’d done to her best girl…well, she preferred not to think about that. The results of Beta’s last "date" had been brutal.

  Date, indeed. Andi shook her head. Her job was full of stupid euphemisms and she was tired of saying one thing when she meant another. The agents she worked with weren’t just faceless government workers—they were counterintelligence officers, the best and most ruthless men that the Agency’s pitiless regime of training and indoctrination could produce. Basically they were cold blooded killers with a government stamp of approval. Their minds had been broken and their bodies shaped to the Agency’s specifications—as a result they were under enormous amounts of stress. Stress that could only be relieved one way—that was where the girls came into play.

  The three girls that Andi kept were basically synthetic whores designed especially to service the agents. A well kept Agency secret, they looked like women and acted like women at least to an extent, but beyond their Playgirl bunny outward appearances their heads might as well have been stuffed with cotton candy. They could walk and talk but anyone who spent any amount of time with them would know at once that they were nothing but sex dolls with extremely limited social functions.

  The girls could take a lot of rough usage but even their tough, specially designed bodies had limits. The animalistic needs of the agents who fucked them on a regular basis for stress relief sometimes exceeded those limits but they were a necessary evil. No real woman could withstand the savage lusts of any of the men who worked under Andi. If she’d tried to send them real prostitutes to relieve their stress the police would have been looking for a serial killer before the week was out.

  Andi looked at the faceted crystals again. Whether you called them agents and girls or killers and whores, it didn’t matter. The point was that she was responsible for them—at least the ones in her district. And right now, according to the lines on her monitor and the indicators in the hidden tray, Beta, Delta, and Gamma were all more or less stress free right now.

  Satisfied that three of the four agents under her supervision were under control, Andi turned her attention to the large crystal indicator lying at the far end of the velvet lined tray. She could see at once that there was trouble. The indicator was glowing brightly enough to cast shadows in the dim, dingy little room that served as her office. And when she put out her finger to test its heat…

  “Ouch!” Andi pulled back her hand and put her finger in her mouth, an involuntary reaction to the intense heat of the square cut crystal. God, she’d never felt it that hot before! What the hell was going on with Alpha, anyway? And why, oh why, couldn’t he have picked another time to need a date?

  Her racing thoughts were interrupted by a warning flicker from her monitor. Andi keyed the panel closed quickly and turned towards it a feeling of dread, like a heavy lead weight, filling the pit of her stomach. As always there was no face displayed on the screen, only the logo of the Counter Terrorist Agency rotating slowing on the screen.

  The CTA, known only as the Agency to those who worked for it and not known at all by most citizens of the US, was an ultra secret government organization. It had branches in all of the major cities in the world from Baghdad to Leningrad to Paris, and everywhere in between. It was the brainchild of the CIA but since being green lighted by legislation passed almost eight years before by the current administration, it had quickly outgrown the supervision of its parent agency. Now it had surpassed the boundaries laid down in the early days of the war on terror and was a law unto itself. No one knew who ran it, or at least Andi didn’t, and she was pretty sure none of the other employees of the Agency knew either. No one policed it either, or if they did, they did it from far above Andi’s lowly station.

  “Tibedeaux,” a cool female voice addressed her from the monitor. Andi straightened involuntarily in her plain swivel-backed chair, knowing that whoever was on the other end could see her even if she couldn’t see them. She smoothed her shapeless blouse with nervous fingers and tried to look competent and in control.

  “I’m here,” she said, staring at the gold CTA logo rotating ceaselessly on the navy blue background. “You have instructions, Central?”

  “We have questions,” the cool voice rapped out.

  Andi tried not to flinch. The trick was not to let them think she was frightened. If they knew she was frightened, they’d know she wasn’t in control of the agents assigned to her care. She pasted an unconcerned, almost bored look on her face and said mildly, “Ask.”

  “Our monitors show an alarming surge in agent Alpha’s emotions. Why has this not been rectified?