A dish best served cold

by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)

JAG

Clark Palmer/Page Martinez, Page Martinez/others

Rating: adult

A CIA agent is taken by Clark Palmer, DSD, for revenge in a very personal way.

Disclaimer: Neither Clark Palmer nor Clayton Webb belong to me. They belong to CBS and Belisarius Productions. All the other characters are of my own invention.

Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.

Warnings: This has non-consensual sex, multiple partners, references to gang rape, and an actual rape, as well as drugs and kidnapping. Also, and I know this is weird for me, it's het, male/female, no slash at all. I think that's it. Please don't read it if any of these upset you. This is also an AU. Nothing like this could have happened on the show.

Notes: I have had such wonderful support for this story. Tinnean, Scarlet, Lexi, Athea, Katja, and Alexandra all read this in various stages of its development, and all encouraged me to keep going. Special thanks go to Tinnean, who wanted Page to win and kept asking about her, and to Alexandra, who came up with the ideas that led to me finally being able to write an ending.

*****

The man drank the last of his beer and smiled at the woman sitting next to him at the hotel bar. "See you later," he murmured. His eyes showed how much he was looking forward to it.

She smiled back at him. "You can count on that."

He grimaced. "Can I really? I'm beginning to wonder if you're ever going to make up your mind, Sue."

Her answer was simple. "Want to come to my room and find out my answer? You'll like it." Her eyes promised even more than her words, and his eyes brightened.

He pulled a key out of his pocket. "No, I want you in my bed. I've been waiting too long for you. Just go up. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I'll be waiting," she breathed. "Don't be too long." Her short dark hair gleamed in the afternoon sunlight.

His answer to that was a long, possessive kiss on her lips. "It's just a meeting. I'll be back by dinner."

"You're taking me out?"

"Not this time. We'll get room service, if we get hungry."

"I'm always hungry," she murmured and let her hand slip down his back to stroke his cheeks. He pulled away with a laugh.

"Andre, don't give this one anything more to drink, except maybe some coffee. She's had more than enough of the hard stuff." He turned to the woman. "And you go right up. I don't want you running into any other guys, not in this mood."

She smiled and nodded as the bartender answered. "Yes, sir, Mr. Palmer, sir. You have a nice day, now."

"I will."

The man kissed the woman one more time, quickly, then strode out of the bar. Andre took the empty glasses from in front of them. "Some coffee, Miss Susan?"

"Some water." As he went to fill a glass, she slid off the stool and smoothed down her skirt to cover her thighs. "Ladies' room," she explained as he put the water in front of her, and he flashed her a grin.

"I'll see that no one takes your seat."

Her walk looked a little unsteady as long as she was in view of the bartender, then it turned into a steady clicking of her high heels across the wood floor. She slipped into the ladies' room and scanned it, then took a deep breath and pulled out a small cell phone.

"He's going to meet Chandler at the beach house. You'd better get your men moving, or he'll get the rest of the information to make the bust. And we'll be left out in the cold."

"We're on him," the voice on the other end assured her. "The tracker's working great. Picks up everything. 'I'm always hungry,' though? A little over the top, I'd say."

"I'm a bubblehead, remember?" Her voice was crisp. "A bubblehead who's just dying to get into bed with him. I've got to go and get ready for that. I've strung him, and this 'I've got to make up my mind if it's a good idea to have a fling on vacation' thing out as far as it can go." A faint smile crossed her face. "The good thing is, he's probably good. Maybe even as good as he thinks he is."

"You're not going to find out, Page. The longer you stay, the more likely he'll link you to this. You've got tickets waiting at the airport. Come home. I'll have a car there."

"I'll get the next flight." She flicked off the phone, then stashed it in her purse again with a sigh. It was over. Back to her real life, at least until there was another assignment that needed her special touch. They owed her this time. It wasn't easy fooling another agent, and this one was smarter than most.

She made sure to go back and drink the water, then tipped Andre and headed up to her room to pack. It didn't take long. She checked out by phone, not wanting anyone there to know she was going. On her way out, she stopped by the front desk. Two more details before she could put this assignment behind her.

"Yes, Miss Latimer?"

"Mr. Palmer left his key by mistake at the bar. Would you see that he gets it? And this?" She'd written a note in her character as 'Susan' to explain why she was going.

"Of course, Miss Latimer."

No need for him to get locked out, or think she'd just vanished. That would be sloppy. The note didn't say much, and she doubted he'd like it, but it gave her a cover story. With any luck, he wouldn't find the plant, or only after she'd been gone long enough he didn't connect the two. Flight in two hours, and she'd be gone, never to see him again. Too bad she'd never get to find out what he was like in bed, but there were plenty of guys back in D.C. who'd be happy to show her their skills. She grinned. And she was ready to give them a chance. Just give her the time to get the damned dye out of her hair. She looked best in her natural color. It would be good to be a redhead again.

*****

(Six months later)

She dragged the vacuum cleaner into the next guest room. God, she hated housework, even when she was getting paid for it. But when it turned out to be the only way to get into the subject's house, that's what she did. It was better than the gym for muscles, though. And with any luck, she'd be able to quit inside a week. She changed attachments and started on the corners. Just two more rooms, and then she could have some juice and maybe even get some cool water on her face.

The vacuum was so loud that she didn't hear the man with the syringe come up behind her.

*****

"How was your nap?" The voice was familiar, and she struggled to get her eyes open. This could be important.

"No comprendez," she managed, then her eyes focused, and she drew in a sharp breath, shaking off the last traces of whatever drug she'd been given. It was the agent from the resort. Clark Palmer, she thought the name was. He was smiling at her with a cool knowledge that wasn't good. And she couldn't move from her seat. There were some kind of bonds, thick ones, strapping her hands behind her back and her ankles to the legs of the chair. She bucked, trying to see if it would move, but it was too heavy with her weight pushing it into the floor.

His smile lengthened. "Trying to escape again? Then you do recognize me. What is your real name, anyway? Never mind, I know now, Page Martinez," he added sarcastically. "You look cute as a maid. Too bad you're a spy, too."

He knew way too much about her, a bad sign. "What the hell is going on?" She gave up any attempts to stay in character. No use wasting the energy. "Let me go, Palmer. We're both professionals."

"Oh, no. You lied to me." His voice was menacing, and his smile, too. "And you walked out on me. I wasn't through with you yet. Should I be flattered that I've turned into your hobby? That is why you're here, right?" His voice had a dry mockery in it.

She glared at him. "I'm here on an assignment. It has nothing to do with you. Don't fuck with that."

"You don't want to get me any angrier, Page. Trust me on that one." He leaned against the wall, lithe and ready for anything. "Didn't they teach you not to fuck with the DSD in whatever training the CIA gave you? Guess not."

"What do you want from me? Information. Fine. I'll give you whatever you want."

She tried to push away the fear. She knew what to do, she reminded herself. All agents did. Stay alive and wait for a chance to escape or rescue. Her contact knew where she'd been. He'd be able to figure out where she was, even if Palmer had trashed the tracker. The obvious one, that is. The good ones were still working. She could feel the studs in her ears, and there was the really hidden one that never got found. The Company believed in redundancy. When she didn't check in with her contact tonight, he'd get in touch with people who'd take the next steps. That was the arrangement.

"What a little liar you are." He loomed over her. "Oh, sorry. This time, you're telling the truth. I gave you truth serum, a nice, big dose. Figured you'd need it."

"God," she whispered.

She knew he'd hit her with some kind of drug. Her arm throbbed where the needle had gone in. She knew secrets. How good was this drug? She hoped it only went to answering questions, not volunteering information. She started checking out the room, very cautiously. Big, nothing in it but the chair she was tied to and a bed made up with white sheets. And high barred windows. Damn. She'd managed to explore just about all of Saretta's house with her cleaning duties. This wasn't it. He'd taken her out of there. Where was she?

"Call on your god. He won't help you now, baby. You're in my hands. And I've been waiting for this one for six whole months. But we'll talk about that later."

"You can't keep me here. I told you, I'm on assignment. Which you just compromised." Her voice was icy. "Bastard."

"I didn't totally compromise it, Page. Why, that wouldn't be fair, even to a lying little bitch agent like you." She gritted her teeth. She hated being called 'little', and 'lying', and the worst of them, 'bitch'. "No, I told Mr. Saretta that you were my woman, that you'd run from my protection. Their code is very strict about that." Damn. He'd found a way that would keep her leaving from being anything more than shakes of the head and a few laughing whispers. "He was more than happy to help me. So don't get any ideas about going back there. He'll just have his men keep you guarded, and get in touch with me. And next time, I might not rescue you from them. But then maybe you'd like that. He's got some big ones there. Look like they could go all night, if they took turns."

She wasn't going to touch that. "This is no fucking rescue."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought you were such a sweet thing. Guess that was all part of the act?"

She decided to try another tack. Maybe he'd go for her being spaced. A lot of truth drugs took people that way. She let her body sag and blinked a few times. "Where am I?" She couldn't try a lie.

"Such a standard question," he mocked. "I expected better from a professional." He moved to stand right in front of her. "And now you're trying to get me to believe you're almost out. Don't you know better than to try and fool another agent? But then I know you Company people. You think you're better than anyone at the Defense Security Division. Know something? You're wrong. But then you should know that by now. You're the one tied up and helpless. Not me."

"What do you want?"

She was furious. He'd figured that right out. She was supposed to be the best. And how had he recognized her? She was in a damned good disguise, nothing like 'Sue Latimer'. Different-colored hair, different clothes, and doing something he'd never think that bubblehead would be caught dead doing. Something was wrong here.

"Revenge, baby. You owe me." His eyes were glittering. "I already know all you know." He laughed. "But you think I'm full of shit, don't you?" Her eyes flashed her answer. He shrugged and went over to the door. "Hey, come in and see what I've got here. A spying bitch."

She couldn't believe the man who took up Palmer's invitation. Scott Kendall, a fellow agent and her contact. Oh, god. No wonder Palmer had found her. Scott read her reports and passed them back up to Langley, was in on all the planning.

"Hey, Page." He had a broad smile on his face as he sauntered over and stood right in front of her. He reached up and took off the backs of the studs, then pulled them out. "Trackers," he explained to the other man, who nodded.

"I knew about those. You said she's got one more in a really interesting place. Let's see."

Page hoped that Scott would manage to get the wrong one, but the other man's hand moved without hesitation to the V of her blouse, and squeezed a small mole with enough force to make her bite her lip. His hand came back out with a small metal ball, and the mole was gone.

"I'm disappointed." Palmer's grin was wide as Page wished she could rub the spot. It throbbed, and there had to be blood. She craned her neck. Oh, yeah. Great. But it should stop soon. "I was expecting something a little more imaginative."

"You wouldn't have found it, and you couldn't have gotten it out by accident. You have to know just how to do it." Scott dropped it on the floor, then ground it beneath his heel.

"She have any more I can practice on?"

"She should be clean. But you might want to give her," his eyes were full of a darkness that Page couldn't believe she hadn't picked up on before, "a full inspection."

"I've got some gloves, and a hell of a lot of ideas." Palmer's smile was feral. "Maybe I just will."

Scott grinned, and his hand stroked down over her right breast. She bit back a curse. She couldn't do anything about it now. Let them think she was breaking. That's what Palmer was trying to do with this little trick. But it was hard to take, knowing there was no way anyone could find her now. Sure as hell Scott wasn't going to be forwarding any account of this.

"Hey, Scott." He turned to face her. "What's he giving you to rat out the Company?" He deserved that, and more. "Anything really good? Say, the Hope Diamond?"

Scott's face twisted into a sneer. "For one thing, you out of the way, even if only for a while. God, you are a bitch on wheels. Women like you do not belong in the Company."

"What?" Page couldn't believe this. She'd gone to bed with this guy, and only now did she find out he was a sexist pig. "You've got to be kidding."

Scott snorted. "You get the job done with that box between your legs. Not with your brain. You're a disgrace, and a shame, to us all."

"Come on, Scott, they're not all like this one." Palmer smiled at Page. "Some are very competent. And even Page can do a job once in a while."

"Yeah, like the one I did on you." Her eyes were bright and challenging.

He leaned over to whisper in her ear. "And wait until you see all that I'm going to do to you. You'll learn a lot." All she gave him back was a glare. "Too bad you'll never get to use it." He straightened. "Sorry. No insult intended. A private matter," he explained to Scott, who smiled.

She didn't want to think about after this. She just had to get through now, and wait for a chance. Even Palmer would fuck up. Especially Palmer.

Scott was speaking again. "Not a problem. Page, you look so pretty in that maid's uniform." She hated being called pretty. She knew she wasn't. "Doesn't she, Clark?"

Palmer smiled and walked over to stand next to him. "Very pretty." He knelt down in front of her and put his hands between her thighs to open them even more. His fingers stroked up toward her crotch as his eyes held hers. She made herself stay still, even though she wanted to look away. He'd take that as a sign of weakness, that his touch was making her nervous or hot, that he was getting to her. He laughed and pulled them back, keeping his hands on her knees. Scott had leather bands in his hands, which he passed around her thighs, holding them open even more than before.

"The uniform suits her, I think." They laughed together, then Scott continued. "Wish I'd gotten a chance to see her working."

"She did a fair job, I heard." She was spread wider than was comfortable, but the bands at least gave her some support. She wondered what he was up to. "But she's a little overdressed for this occasion, I think." His long fingers moved up to her blouse, and undid buttons until her bra was exposed. "You can go now, Scott. I can handle her from here. I think Page is going to want some privacy for what comes next."

"You need me, I'm more than willing." Scott sounded it, too. His eyes were bold as they moved over her. "Want me, Page? Just tell Clark."

"In your dreams, Kendall."

The two men laughed together again.

"Isn't she something else? Tied to a chair, and still mouthing off."

"She'll stop that, sooner or later. Sooner, if she's smart." Palmer's voice was pleasant, but Page heard the threat underneath. He meant it. "If you want her, I'll make sure you get some later. Now, she's mine."

"It's your show, Clark. Enjoy yourself, Page, and be good for Clark. He's gone to a lot of trouble to get you here, and I know he's been looking forward to it."

Scott gave Page another smile and closed the door behind him. Suddenly there was a thin and wicked-looking knife in Palmer's hand. "Keep still, Page." His voice was soft and dangerous. "Unless you like getting cut up."

She froze. No, she didn't want anything like that. He smiled. "Don't worry, baby, that's not what I'm into. But this is." He used the knife to cut open her bra, then cut the straps until he could pull it off. "Just as pretty as I remember." He smiled into her angry eyes as he tossed the pieces on the floor. "And I have seen them before. Remember that time on the beach? God, you were hot. You were coming from what my mouth was doing to those big nipples of yours." He reached up and took one between his fingers, squeezing it until her breath hissed out in a small sign that was both pain and arousal. "Yeah, you sounded a lot like that. Bet I could get you that hot again."

"You're delusional. Why are you so fucking sure I was hot then?"

"I know you were." Damn his self-confidence. She had to shake it somehow. "You were moaning, pushing your breasts up to get more." His smile showed he remembered it very well, and she wished he didn't. "Oh, Page, I know you wanted me to keep sucking them, and then push my cock into you and make you come some more. Has anyone gotten you even close to that hot since?" His expression turned mock-serious. "Or don't you remember? From what I've read, you've gone through a hell of a lot of men. One couldn't have that much space in your memory."

"I remember the ones that mattered," she shot back.

He laughed. "And you're saying I didn't. I don't believe that. I'm curious, Page. Is it that you don't know what to do with them, or is that you just can't get enough? Either way, we can help you here."

She was definitely not getting into that. "I remember you didn't have the balls to fuck in front of an audience." That had stung her pride at the time, and more than that, if she was honest with herself. "You pulled back and said you needed a shower. Coward."

"Temper, temper." He slapped her cheek lightly, still smiling. Page felt the sting on her skin and knew he was enjoying that she couldn't stop him. "Be a nice girl. Somebody must have taught you to do that. But then again, maybe nobody did. It would explain a lot about you." He cocked his head. "You know why I didn't do it there? I was worried you'd get sand between your legs, and you wouldn't like it." He laughed. "Boy, was I wrong about you. Should have shoved it into you. You would have loved the way the sand scraped your tender skin, probably gotten off on it. You were such a tease. But right then, I had you wanting it bad enough to do it right there."

He was right, but she sure as hell wasn't going to admit it. "In your dreams, Palmer."

"Oh, go ahead and call me Clark, darling." He made the endearment sound like a curse. "When you beg for a man to give you just what you want, you want to call for the right one. Me." Before she could snap out an answer, he held up the knife right in front of her face, and she swallowed her words. "Very good, Page. You're learning. Don't piss off the guy with the knife." He lowered the knife and made a careful cut through her nylons, then another until he had a whole piece of the material. He dropped it on the floor. "Be very still now, Page."

She knew what he was going to do, and he did it. The knife went back between her legs, and this time it cut out the crotch of her underpants. His fingers came in to rip the cotton even more, until the reddish hair and long lips were pouting through the gap. She knew he was trying to humiliate her, and he was succeeding. Not totally, but some.

"Now this I haven't seen before." He stashed the knife and put his face right up to the opening. She could feel his hot breath against her lips, and it made her want more. Damn her body. "It might have even been worth getting screwed to get in there. A screw for a screw. But I didn't." He stood. "I will now, though."

"Won't it be a little difficult, with me in this damned chair?" She kept her voice angry so that he wouldn't get it. If he would just be dumb enough to let her loose to get her to the bed, she might be able to take him out.

His eyes showed that he knew where she was going. "Oh, Page, you've got it all wrong. I'm not going to fuck you now. I don't trust you enough. When you're ready," his eyes were gleaming, "I know, because I'll hear you begging me to do that. I know you don't want to admit it yet, and that's fine." His voice was all faked concern. "I've got some activities planned to while away the time. You won't be bored. I wouldn't allow that for a guest of mine."

She was not going to get into that, or to ask him what these activities were. "Just skip it, Palmer. You want revenge? Fuck me. Go ahead and do it. I'm sure you'll get off when I'm dry as a bone. Seems to me like rape is just your style." If she could goad into throwing away whatever plan he had, it had to be better for her. She was strong. She could handle rape. She would handle it.

"But it isn't, baby." His fingers were back on her nipples, but this time his fingers were caressing them, teasing them into hardness. She fought to stay still, and knew she was losing. Damn him. Why couldn't he just stick it in and get it over with? Why did he have to work her body? And her mind? She hated 'baby' and 'darling', especially the way he used them, like she was some kind of cute, dumb thing. "And you won't be dry. You'll be wet and begging for anyone to make you come. If you're smart, you'll be begging for me. Just like you want to be now. But you're just too proud for that, aren't you, Page? Proud, and angry. You won't be later, though. You'll be desperate enough you'll forget all about that pride of yours, and that anger." Before she could snap something about that out, he pinched both nipples in a sharp motion that brought another sound from her, one she hated making, one she hoped only let him see her pain, not the desire that was still there. He laughed and went over to the door. "You sound so pretty when you moan. Back in a minute, baby. You can relax. I won't leave you alone."

No, she couldn't relax, not for a moment with him. She was glad she was angry, because if she lost the anger, she knew she'd be panting, losing her control, too. Her body was so damned unreliable. It insisted that she'd be better if she started begging now, as long as that begging got a good hard cock in her right away. And the training she'd had backed that opinion. Give them what they want, that's what all the current wisdom was. Play it a little, make them think your surrender isn't total, make them think they'll drag you down deeper and get more if they keep you around, but give in. Fighting was only recommended if the agent in the situation thought it was what the captors wanted. With Clark Palmer, she wasn't sure which was best. He got his sick pleasure out of both, she could tell that much. So it had to be fighting. She wasn't any good at playing at surrender, not when it was her life, her body, her soul that was going to be toyed with. It might turn into real surrender, and that she couldn't risk. It was all or nothing. And she couldn't let him have all. No. Clark Palmer, Defense Security Division agent and bastard, was getting nothing from her. Nothing at all.

She tried to control both her anger and her fear with deep breathing, and it helped a little. She was a professional, she reminded herself. And so was he. They both knew how the game of capture went. At some point, he was going to have to let her go. Or kill her. The thought made her shrug. She didn't want to die, but she knew she could in any mission. At least it would be an honorable death. At least it would be over. But she wasn't giving up. She'd wait him out, and maybe she'd be able to play along and use his agenda for her own purposes.

He came back in with a smile. "Have a nice time without me?"

"Just lovely." She gave him a cool smile back. "Why don't you just stay the fuck out?"

"And miss all this witty conversation? No. I wouldn't have left at all, but I needed a word with Scott." His eyes dared her to speculate about their subject, but she knew what it had to be. Her. "He's such a help. Don't you find him so?"

She gave him the coolest look she could manage. Nothing that Scott Kendall said or did now was in her best interests. "Not really. He's full of himself. And he can't even fuck well."

His eyebrows shot up. "Now, that's something I'd like to hear about." He reached over and pulled out a metal folding chair, opened it, and sat in front of her. She was suddenly acutely aware of how large her breasts felt, hanging out of her blouse, how the air from his movement brushed against her crotch and dried out the skin, how vulnerable she felt. Damn him. Her nipples started throbbing again as his eyes lingered on each in turn, and she hoped he couldn't tell. "Start talking."

This she could do. Scheherazade was an excellent role model for a captured female agent. If he was listening, he wasn't doing. And he was in her power. She hung her head, pretending she was ashamed. It did the trick. His hand shot out and caught her chin, raising it again.

"Of course," his tone was menacing and soft, "if you don't want to tell me, I'm sure Scott will. I'll go and get him, so you can hear too. Or maybe it would be more fun for him to show me what he did with you."

"Thought you were going to make me beg," she threw back.

He laughed. "Baby, you will be. But who says the other guys can't have some fun with you and help get you ready for me? I can tell you're the kind of woman who needs a lot of guys to keep her satisfied." He drawled the last words out. "And I wouldn't want you to complain the DSD didn't show you a good time. We've got a reputation to uphold."

The thought made her shiver inside with a fear she refused to face, but she kept her face under her own control. Her reluctant look went into one of resignation. "I'll tell you."

"You know," he said very casually, "you shouldn't take up acting. You're shitty at it. Of course some of that is the drug, but not all of it." Damn. He was reading her too well. "You want to tell me this story so you can be in charge, change the course of the game. You're hoping I'll forget about everything else I've got planned. Won't work, Page. But I like a story, so if you tell me a good one, I'll make it worth your while." His smile was amused, and she knew she had to be showing some of her fury at being found out again. "I can be very good indeed. You'd enjoy it."

She dropped the act and simply stared, not letting any emotion into her face. "Now you're upset," he said, his tone mocking. "Poor baby Page. Is the big bad boy picking on her?" He dropped the mockery, replacing it with a cold calm. "That's what you get when you decide to play with the big boys. And you got yourself into this game. Not me."

"I didn't get myself here."

"You decided to be a CIA agent. You decided to take a mission that was nothing more than spying on another agent. That, Page darling, is how you got into this game. What, does the CIA tell you that you're safe as long as you're working for them?" He laughed. "Oh, of course, there's their famous tracking system." He locked onto her eyes. "Let you down, didn't it? They all let you down." His voice was suddenly lower, more intimate. "Think about that, why don't you?"

Damn him. He was getting right to what she was trying damned hard not to think about, that she was on her own here. "No, the Company didn't let me down. Scott Kendall turned traitor. And DSD fuck Clark Palmer decided to take me hostage. That's what happened, Palmer, so don't try to turn me against the CIA, too. It won't work."

"Just a shot in the dark, baby," he drawled. "I'd be a lot easier on you if you gave up this idiotic hope that you were getting out of here before I'm ready for you to." He smiled. "If I'm ever ready."

What was it about him? She'd fooled him last time, but this time nothing she did was getting by him. It had to be the drug, and that she was working off the top of her head, while he'd had time to study and think about her methods.

"The story, baby." While she was thinking, his fingers had dropped down to the opening in her underpants. He was playing with the fine hair, pulling it and twisting strands around his fingers. "Sorry. Couldn't resist." He smiled at her, but didn't stop. "Certainly a big girl agent like you can handle this? It can't be that annoying."

It was a hell of a lot more than that. Every time he pulled or twisted, it made her aware of her cunt, of how long it had been since she'd last come, of how open and exposed she was. If Clark Palmer wanted to, he could shove a finger or his whole damned hand into her. And the more he played with her hair, the more she was afraid she'd want him to. She had to stay in control, and he was definitely not helping.

She called up her anger. "Fuck the story." Her voice was low and angry. "You're so fucking curious, you ask Kendall. I'm sure he'll give you a blow-by-blow account, and why should you care he'll be lying his ass off? You don't give a damn about the truth, Palmer. You're pathetic."

"I'm pathetic?" His smile was amused. "But you're the one tied to a chair, Page. You're the one whose gorgeous breasts are poking out, ready for any guy who comes in this room to suck on, bite, fuck if he wants to. If I let him. And I've got guys who haven't had a woman in a while. This is a training facility. Lots and lots of guys." She hoped she wasn't turning as pale as she felt. "You're the one whose panties are all torn up, like someone hadn't wanted to take the time to get them off you, because he knew he didn't have to. As long as he got enough of an opening to stick it to you, you'd moan and spread for him, just like the slut you really are." He wasn't amused any longer. He was leaning into her face, talking in a low and hard voice, and his fingers had stopped playing, thank god. "How did you manage to keep from spreading your legs for me for three whole days, Page? Did you have to fuck the waiters and the bellboys? Maybe Andre, you remember him, the bartender, helped you out. He had an eye for the girls in short skirts, and you sure had plenty of those, and he liked money. You probably had enough of that, too. I got a look at him in a bathing suit once. He looked like he was as big as a horse, and I'll bet you're into that. But I forget, you're an agent." Every time he said that now, it sounded like an insult. "You were under orders to keep me hanging. Or were you?"

She just glared at him. The last thing she was going to tell him was that it had been left up to her discretion, and she'd decided that it would be better to keep that distance.

"And it wouldn't have been professional to fuck the help." A cynical smile crossed his face. "Not that you're necessarily that professional. You are CIA, after all."

She wasn't going to let him know that it had been a bit of a struggle with her own passion to stay out of bed with him. Not much, but a little. He'd been intelligent, lean, tanned, and at that point, charming. She'd had to finger herself in the shower, when she changed for dinner with him, at night in her cool, lonely bed. Of course, she hadn't know he was the kind of shit who'd take out the failure of a mission on a fellow agent, who'd stoop to kidnapping one, who got off on humiliation and control. She didn't want him now at all.

She tilted her head and gave him her coolest smile. She was going to try out that truth drug, see if she could beat it, or if it was wearing off. It just might be. "You don't have to fuck a guy to get off on him."

"Is that so? Well, you'd know. Tell me about it, if you've got any stories. Those I'd like to hear. Might make up a little for my lonely bed. The worst thing is, it didn't have to be lonely. There were women there who looked at me all the time." He flashed her a smile. "Did you know that?"

Of course she had, but she wasn't getting into that now. "I liked the guy who turned down the sheets at night best," she said very softly. His eyes narrowed, but he listened. Good. She was finding a way to mislead him and get to him. She had liked the man, who was one of the shyest people she'd ever met. She'd had to get another steward to get her guy before she checked out so that she could give him the tip he deserved. "The guy who brought me juice one morning, though, he had some moves I'd never seen before." She'd seen him dance one night before Palmer had arrived, told the man he was good enough to make it anywhere. He'd thanked her, bought her a drink, and that was the end of it. All he'd done when he brought the juice was laugh at her grab for her robe and say a cheerful 'good morning.' He hadn't been interested in her at all. But that wasn't Palmer's fucking business. "That enough of a story to make up for your, what was it, lonely bed?"

"Oh, no," he purred. "This is fun." His eyes were amused again. Why? "Tell me what they did to you, Page. I like to learn when I can."

Shit. Now what was she going to do? She didn't want to try an elaborate lie. She wasn't that good at making things up, and if she failed, it would make her look really bad. She might, with whatever of that drug was still in her. She didn't need that. Things were bad enough already. "I'm not in the mood to talk any more." She looked away from him. It was time to shift the conversation. "Go fuck yourself, Palmer." That should do it.

"No, I'll wait for you, baby." He stood. "But you know something? You're getting a little too full of yourself. I can tell the truth serum isn't doing as well as it might."

She shrugged. "Oh, I'm sure you've got that all planned for, don't you, a hotshot agent like you?" She made the effort to put scorn and cool amusement in her voice. Time to see if he could take his own medicine.

"It's about time you started to see this the right way," he purred and came back with a syringe. She felt her muscles tense as he sat, and tried to breathe deeply. Just more of the truth drug, she thought. She could handle that. "I'll bet you're wondering what this is. I'll give you a hint, it's not truth serum. I think it would be fun to hear you try to lie." He waited, but she just looked at him. The last thing she was going to do was play along. "Well, if you won't ask..." He slid her skirt up to her waist, then reached with his free hand, the knife back in it, and cut the nylons with two swift strokes. He pulled the loose fabric away, leaving her thighs bare. She squirmed involuntarily. He was going way over the edge. She had to find her center again. She had to stay in control. But it was so hard to live it, rather than train for it. "You'll like this one. I've been saving it just for you."

He stabbed the needle into her thigh, and she jerked with the sting. "Damn you, Palmer."

"Can't even bring yourself to call me by name? You did it so well at the resort. But that was all part of the game you were playing. Now we're playing my game. Call me by name, or pay."

She didn't want to give into him at all, but this really wasn't worth fighting over. She breathed in, then out. "All right, Clark."

He smiled, but his eyes were intent on her. He was watching for the effects of this new drug, she knew. "You sound so different from little miss Sue. But then I'm sure she didn't have a brain in that pretty dark head of hers. Did you get all the hair dyed, Page? Or did you figure you'd just keep the light out?"

She blinked. Her vision was blurring just a little, and her heart was speeding. She could handle that much, but there had to be more. He was too pleased with himself. "Everything, obviously." She hoped that her voice was as withering as she wanted. "But you'll just have to take my word for it."

"Oh, I believe you. Just wish I'd seen it for myself. Maybe I'll turn you back into that cute chick, get that night I missed. With the right drugs, which I can get, and the right information, which I've already got from Scott, it's possible." He smiled pleasantly, but with an undertone of menace. "She had her good points. I liked her, except she was such a tease. But I can make sure she won't be this time. Want to be her again, Page? Just ask. I'd like to see you be someone I could trust."

"I'm who I want to be, not who you want me to be."

"For now. That will change."

She was about to answer when a shiver ran through her body. Her head snapped back as she moaned. She heard Palmer's laugh from a distance. Whatever was going through her was like electricity, stimulating all her nerves, and it wasn't stopping. She was going to go crazy if this kept up too long. It was getting her hot and hotter. Her skin was on fire, her inner muscles were grabbing for something solid, her clit was throbbing with an insistence that she'd never felt before. Everything was throbbing and burning and going wild. She had to do something about it, had to come. "Tell me this will stop." She didn't even know she'd spoken until Palmer answered.

"Not for a while, Page, unless you get the antidote. And I wasn't planning on giving it to you." His eyes had a glittering in them that showed how much he was enjoying this. "What, you don't like it?"

All she could do was moan again, and she hated it. She needed to get back under control, and god, she needed someone to get her off. And the only one here was Clark Palmer, the one man in the world she couldn't ask anything of.

"I'm told it's a very effective aphrodisiac. I've never tried it. I thought I'd let you find out for yourself. Tell me if they're right." He slid forward on the metal seat, so close she could feel his breath on her skin. "Of course, maybe it isn't doing anything for you. Some people don't have the receptors for it, I'm told." He reached out his hand to stroke her neck, and she cried out at the strength of her body's response to just that simple touch. It felt like she was going to explode if he just kept going. The sensations faded, but she was still trembling. He smiled at her distress. "But I think it's working on you the way it's supposed to. That's good. I'd really hate for you to have some of the bad side effects."

She didn't even want to know what he thought those were. The ones she were enduring were bad enough. She bit down on her lower lip, trying to get that pain to give her enough space to concentrate. She'd learned how to do that. She started the thoughts rolling through her fevered mind. She was not her body. She was not these feelings. She was more than that, and she could control them, transcend them.

"Won't work, Page." His low, amused voice and finger trailing over her breast broke her trance, and she was back in her treacherous skin. "Oh, you can try, but your body is not going to stop telling you it's hot. This drug is very good. And you don't adapt to it. It adapts to you, keeps the level of arousal nice and high."

"Trust you to use drugs to get what you want." Her voice quivered, deepened, held a moan and a plea in it despite her efforts. "Don't you believe you can do this by yourself? I guess not."

He chuckled. "I never play fair, Page. I like winning too much." He stood and picked up the metal chair. "You know, I was teaching a class on drugs for some of the trainees just the other day, and I mentioned this one, since I knew you were coming to visit." Like she was here because she wanted to be. "It would be a shame not to follow that up when there's a real live girl writhing under its effects. Be right back." He stowed the chair, then paused at the door. "You might find you like what you get as my demonstration model," he added very softly and shut it behind him.

As soon as she heard the click, she moaned and pulled against the bonds. No give. She didn't want a bunch of guys watching her, touching her, maybe even putting their fingers into her. The only comfort was that Palmer couldn't know how much the prospect terrified her. He'd think she was scared because she was helpless, but he didn't know what had happened to her. He couldn't know. She pushed the memory of that as far back in her memory as it would go and concentrated on taking inventory. It was hard to think, but she had to. All right, her legs were spread pretty far, leaving her open, but the chances of any guy getting in more than a finger or two was pretty slim. The angle was all wrong, and there wasn't enough room for a guy to fit between her thighs and thrust with the chair in the way. She managed a slight smile. If anyone wanted to do more than finger her, he was going to have to let her go from the bonds for at least a moment. That might be her chance. But, her smile faded, Palmer had said 'trainees.' He had to be bringing in more than one, and she was sure they'd be trained to work together. She swallowed. The only good thing about the fear, was that it made the drug's arousal a lot less pressing. Bet Palmer hadn't known about that, and she wasn't going to tell him. But it was still there, and she knew it wasn't going to go away.

The door opened, and men filed in. Page counted them with her eyes: one, two, three, and Palmer made four. He gave her a smile that was full of amused malice, then motioned to the men to make a half-circle around her chair, while he took up a position that let him see both them and her. The trainees looked like any other guys in D.C., in suits like Palmer wore, harmless enough, but she knew better than to believe that. If they were with Palmer, they were not harmless. They were his.

"Take a good look at the woman and tell me what you can tell from her physical state." No name, even. Page focused on a neutral piece of wall. Right now meeting the eyes of the men who had to be scanning her like a specimen or a piece of meat was out of the question. "You can assume she's bound because it's necessary." She knew he was smiling. "Draw your own conclusions from that, gentlemen. I'm interested in hearing how," he paused, "creative you can get."

Oh, he was cruel. The men all chuckled at that. She knew none of them gave a damn about her condition, and it was a good bet that he'd told them enough that they knew he was doing this to get even with her. Damned DSD was full of assholes. This would not have been tolerated in the Company. She could feel the men's eyes boring into her and gave up looking at the wall. What the hell. She wasn't giving them anything, and she was not going to show fear. Anger, definitely.

"All right, you've had more than enough time." Palmer spoke briskly after a long moment. "You'll have to be quicker than this in the field. Riley, go."

Riley was the man at her far left. "Flushed, breathing quickly, and her eyes look to be dilated. Drugged?"

"Yes." Palmer didn't seem impressed. "All right, anyone else."

"She's furious," the man on her right offered. "It's more than just the drugs. There's an incredible anger in her eyes." Page let him see more of it, but he didn't seem affected. "And she was trying to ignore the fact we're here. Not too bad a job of that, either."

"Conclusion?"

"She has some training of her own. You don't see that kind of self-control in civilians. Not DSD, though."

"No, one of ours would not have gotten herself into this kind of situation." Palmer's voice had a hint of amusement in it. "And you're right about the training. Nice call. But you're ignoring the state of her clothes, one of the best leads there is. I'm disappointed, gentlemen."

"Then the maid's uniform is more than likely part of her disguise," Palmer nodded, "and the condition of it, leads me to believe that you, or someone else, is trying to break her control. That would be the object of exposing her breasts and genitals, as well as binding her." It was the same man again.

There was something knowing about his tone, even with the dry words, that was enough to bring the drug's effects back to the forefront. It was like this one knew damned well she was wet, and wanting. She bit down on her lip again, but this time it didn't do a damned thing.

"This is my operation." Palmer's voice was at its most dry. "Take that into account in your analysis."

The man nodded. "Thank you. Then I assume that it isn't a fetish situation."

Palmer's eyes flashed with amusement. "Elaborate, Kelleher."

"This isn't about her being into tied and exposed so that she can get off. Although she just bit down in a gesture that could be interpreted as passion."

Palmer studied her himself, his eyes full of a mocking curiosity. "No, that was resistance. This is passion." He cupped her breasts, one in each hand, as she fought to keep from responding.

He laughed and bent down to whisper in her ear. "You are so stubborn, and it's so unnecessary. We both know you don't have any choice, Page." His breath on her way-too-sensitive skin made her shiver. "Come on, baby. Let yourself enjoy it. Nobody's expecting you to be some kind of martyr. Why the hell do you think I gave you this drug? So you could have more fun." He rubbed his thumbs over each nipple, bringing out a low moan from her throat. "Oh, that's better. Show these kids what a woman looks like when she's hot. Who knows when they'll get the chance again?"

There was an intimacy about the way he was talking to her now, so different from what he'd been using before, and from the almost-professorial tone he used with the men. She knew she shouldn't fall for it, but her body was giving her urgent messages, she'd started this wiped, and it had been too long since she'd gotten any. Her mind wasn't cutting it, and her body was more than happy to take over. It thrust forward to get more, and he laughed and brought up his fingers, pinching her nipples in a rhythm that kept her moaning. She had to stop this. With that dim thought, she found the strength to override her body and pull back from his hands. Palmer got it right away and stopped. Damn him for reading her that well.

"Well, guess the show's over for now." A mocking voice, and a light one, as he turned away. "Anyone have an idea about what drug she's on?"

"I'm not *on* a drug. You shot me up with one. It was your goddamned idea."

Palmer turned to her with an air of surprise. "So, the statue speaks. Good point. The drug was administered against her will. Anyone?"

"Not a sedative. She's too up for that." It was Riley, trying again.

"Mr. Riley, if you don't do a hell of a lot of work very quickly," Palmer's voice was hard, "I would suggest you think about changing agencies. Maybe the FBI or CIA would find your level of knowledge acceptable, but here at the DSD, I don't. And neither will my superiors."

Riley subsided. "Kelleher? Stone?"

"The Venus drug." A new voice, from a tall and handsome man right in front of her. "You said in the last lecture that it was perfect for breaking down someone who was highly sexual, but was good at controlling it. And she was enjoying your attentions, but fighting it like hell. It fits."

"Finally, someone gets it. Good work, Stone. Now for the next part of the lesson." Palmer's smile was positively evil. "You've read the reports on the Venus drug, and you've heard me talk about it. Now it's time for all of you to find out just how potent it can be, and how it can be used to alter a subject's mind set."

Page's body was throbbing again. Palmer's manipulations had shot her arousal way up, and the anger that had been keeping the drug tamped down wasn't gone, but it was weaker. Her fear was growing, though. He was either going to play with her himself again, or, oh, god, let the men do that. And Palmer had already said something about the DSD showing her a good time. She was betting it was the second option. His next words confirmed it and made it worse.

"This part of the exercise will be done without me. I want to see how well you gentlemen do on your own." He was going to walk out that door and leave her with these guys. She had to get out of here, and she couldn't. "Treat this as an independent laboratory project, with a report due on demand. Gloves, and condoms, are under the head of the bed; use them. Don't undo her, no matter what she says or does, or what you feel like doing. You'll have to work around the restraints. And gentlemen, use a variety of techniques. Otherwise, have fun." He caught Page's eyes. "You, too, baby." She took in a long, shuddering breath and damned herself for doing so. His smile was thin and amused. "Nice to see you're looking forward to it." He dropped the amusement and addressed the trainees again. "You have thirty minutes. Divide it how you will."

"All of us together, or one at a time?" It was Riley, the thin, blond one, and she could see he was already bulging in his pants.

"I'd try any combination you can agree on. But I expect your reports to include details and analysis of her responses to all of you. This is a group assignment, so work together." He turned away. "Oh, personally, I wouldn't trust her mouth for anything, but if you like getting bitten, go ahead. And her name is Page."

The door shut behind him, and Page blinked back tears. God, she was losing it. Being sorry to see Clark Palmer go, seeing him as any kind of protection? But he was all she had. He had a reason for keeping her alive, and a plan in which she figured prominently. These guys? She was 'an independent laboratory project' to them. Palmer hadn't even told them not to hit her or hurt her, and she didn't know if they'd take that as a given, or take his omission as permission to go ahead and do just that. She had to calm down. She had to find a way to use this, not let it use her.

The three men stared at her for a moment, then Stone broke the silence. "Gloves," he said tersely, and Kelleher, who was closest, reached down to pull the box out. Each took a pair.

"Let's split the time evenly. I want some time to work her over good," Riley urged. He struggled to get his hands in the gloves. "It's been too long since I've gotten any. She won't bite me."

Page heard them from a distance. She was too busy trying again to use concentration to get her mind to master her body. There might be a way to use this, but only if she could take over. She tried to come up with a plan, but her body kept flashing her messages of how good it could be to have these guys playing with her, and she was gone again. It was a long, hard struggle, and she just hoped they kept arguing.

"No. Even if you didn't get the assignment, I did. He wants us to work together. This isn't about our own satisfaction." Stone was taller than the other two and clearly the leader of the group, a man whom in other circumstances, Page would be thinking about buying a drink. Here, he was the enemy. An intelligent one, too. "We'll each take a short turn, just a couple of minutes, then go from there. Part of this assignment has to be about adapting to circumstances. Riley, you wait for your turn. And if you don't shut up," he added harshly as the other man opened his mouth, "I'll see that you don't even get a chance at her. I'm surprised Mr. Palmer is letting you stay." He nodded to Kelleher, whose brown and curly hair was unruly enough around his young face to make him look like a college student, even though it was cut close. "You made the first good deduction. Go ahead."

"Happy to." Kelleher stepped over to Page with a cocky smile on his face. "Hi there, Page. Nice to meet you." He winked at her, giving his face an impish charm. His fingers went down to stroke her nipples, and, just like that, her control was slipping. "Too bad you're such a hellion that you have to be tied up. I'll bet you're really hot in bed."

"You'll never know," she flung, damning how her voice trembled. "But then I'll bet you'd put me to sleep."

"Oh, I wouldn't put you to sleep, not until long after I'd made you scream." The image was a compelling one, and she damned him silently. "You do have a mouth on you. You're lucky I don't mind it." He pinched her nipples with a force that made her cry out, then moan. The sensation passed right through pain and smoothed into pleasure. That had never happened to her before. If something hurt, it hurt for a while. "She can definitely take stimulation that would usually be painful," he announced to the others and pinched her again, even harder. "See?"

This time Page just moaned. She didn't want to be doing this, she didn't want these guys feeling her up, but they were, and she was getting even hotter from it. The fear was there, but way back in her mind. That damned drug was actually doing her a favor. She was too hot to freak out.

"Yeah, I see." It was Stone, his voice low and husky. "Riley, you now. I want to see how she responds to you. Take a different tack than he did."

Riley stepped into the place Kelleher left. His hands went right down to her breasts, and he pinched so hard she let out a yowl. That was different, and horrible. "You like that," he breathed. "Bitch." He slapped her cheek, throwing her head sideways. "And you like that, too. Yeah, you're going to take whatever I want to give you, and like it."

Before Page could get the breath to scream, Stone and Kelleher were there. "Idiot," Stone growled, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him away.

"Different tack, you said." Riley's expression was a scowl. "It isn't really hurting her."

Stone let out a furious sigh as Kelleher took over. "You are so stupid. Didn't you hear Mr. Palmer? This is his operation, and we don't know what he's got planned. He didn't give us permission to do anything we wanted."

"Come on, he's obviously trying to break her. Beatings are a standard part of that. I'll bet that's why he left her with us. But if you're too much of a coward, just turn away. I'll handle it."

"No. We're all responsible for the others' actions in a group exercise. If he wants her broken, you can bet money he'll want to do it himself. If we damage her, he'll be furious, and I've heard stories about when that happens. You just had your turn, Riley." Stone shoved the smaller man over to Kelleher. "Get him out of here," he added to Kelleher. "If Mr. Palmer wants an explanation, he can get it from me."

"Or me." Kelleher lifted Riley off the floor by the collar of his shirt, and the smaller man made a choking sound. "You're not going to screw up my record," Page heard just before the door slammed and Kelleher returned. "O.K., your turn."

"In a minute." Stone drew Kelleher over by the bed. "I've got an idea."

Page strained to listen, but her blood was hammering in her ears, and her cheek still hurt from Riley's slap. She wanted to cry, but there was no way she was going to give these guys or Palmer the satisfaction. Well, she had learned something. They were afraid of Palmer's wrath. But there wasn't a way she could think of to use that to help her. DSD was big on hierarchy and authority, and Palmer was their authority right now. And she was a captive. His captive. She swallowed down her fear and waited, tensely, for them to finish, but the drug soon eased both the pain and fear and brought her back to a desperate wanting.

They both laughed and broke apart. Stone came over to her. "I don't think Mr. Palmer's happy with you, Page. You must have really pissed him off," he murmured and got down on his knees between her thighs. His mouth found her right nipple and flicked it with the tip of his tongue. It swelled even more, and her fists clenched. God, this one was a tease. Just what she needed. Her body was getting even more out of control. "That was a bad idea. But you haven't done anything to me."

"Or me," Kelleher added from beside her. His eyes were gleaming, as were Stone's. "We're not like Riley, either. You be good to us; we'll be good to you."

Page knew just how to answer this one. "You trying 'good cop, bad cop' on me? I'm an agent, kids." She used Palmer's term deliberately, trying to shake them. "I was running that one when you were still playing with tin cans and string and pretending they were secret agent radios. Don't make me laugh."

Stone laughed and let his teeth close around her nipple. She moaned. "Nice analysis," he murmured when he raised his head, "but you don't sound like you're laughing now." He glanced at Kelleher, who was on her right side. "Does she to you?"

"She sounds like she'd give anything to get some more of that."

"And maybe she'll get it." Stone flicked her other nipple this time, but she managed to keep from making a sound. It took too much energy, though, and she didn't have that much to spare. "And you know, Page, you can't be much of an agent. You got caught."

"Your precious 'Mr. Palmer' is a fucking shit who holds a grudge when he's beaten." She was going to tell somebody the truth. "And he betrays other agents. You could be next."

"Mr. Palmer knows who's on his side. And he seems to be winning now." It was Kelleher, and his gloved hands were sliding toward her crotch. "If I were you, I'd try using that mouth for something other than insults. Try moaning. You sound good doing that."

She didn't want to take his orders, but just then Stone fastened his mouth on her right nipple, and she couldn't help it. Kelleher laughed. "That's better," he crooned. "Oh, you're a smart one after all."

Stone was sucking steadily on her nipple, his fingers massaging her other one as Kelleher's fingers stroked her opening. "You are wet as all hell," he breathed. "Stone, you've got to check this out. She'd be able to take even you in a New York minute."

"That wet?" Stone raised his head and smiled right up at her. "That I have to see."

He held her eyes as he worked his fingers between her thighs, the heat in them making it even harder to think of anything but what they were doing to her. Kelleher's were still there, and they divided her up. Kelleher took one half while Stone took the other, the dividing line her opening. They didn't push into that at all, and that was driving her crazy. She wanted something in there, and fingers were just fine with her. They knew what they were doing. Between the two of them, they were hitting the good spots just enough to make her groan and bite down on her lip to keep from begging for more. She couldn't beg them. Responding was bad enough. And she was sure of one thing. Palmer was watching this whole thing. He wasn't going to rely on reports from trainees. That wasn't his style at all. He had a camera on her, and he was seeing just how he could use this to his advantage. She knew it.

She pushed that thought away after a moment's struggle, but another one came to take its place. 'Wet enough to take even you.' The thought of what they were hinting at made her even wetter. She could tell Stone was big from how his pants were pushing forward and down his leg. Good and big and hard. And Kelleher didn't look as though he was a wimp, either. Page's breathing went to panting, and all she wanted was to come. Either these guys had gotten a lot of time with women before they joined the DSD, or the DSD had a sex training program. She was beginning to think it was the latter.

"Too bad she won't get the chance to find out how good she'd feel to get it in her. But we could do something for her, if we wanted to." Stone let a finger stray the barest amount into her, then pulled it back. She tried to jerk forward to get it back, but she couldn't.

"We could, couldn't we? And all I'd need is a good reason to do it. Say, her asking us."

"Sounds good to me." Stone's voice was almost enough to make her come by itself, deep and rough.

"Now it's up to you. Come on, Page." Kelleher's voice was cajoling as he took her plump and hypersensitive clitoris between his latex-cool and wet fingers. "Be a good girl. I like good girls."

A part of her knew they were doing the routine again, but this time she didn't have the detachment to call them on it. All she had was passion and need, and so much of both.

"And I like hot ones." Stone pushed the finger back in, and this time he pushed it in farther. Page moaned and shook. She was so close, so damned close. If Kelleher would just stroke a little more, or Stone start working her more, she would come. She felt herself trembling on the edge, about to lose it. Would it be so bad just to say 'please'? That wasn't really begging, and if it was, she wasn't so damned sure she cared. Then Stone spoke.

"I hope you're smart enough to show Mr. Palmer how grateful you are for our attention, Page." His finger pushed back and forth inside her, gently but insistently. She wanted more. "He'll be easier on you if you do. And you really want him to be easy."

"Don't you want to be a good girl for him?" Kelleher's fingers stroked the side of her clit. "I know you do."

Palmer's voice was echoing through her mind. 'And how it can be used to alter a subject's mind set.' This had to be the mind game they thought would get her to do that. They wanted to look good to Palmer, show him they could help. Little shits. She didn't go cold, the drug wouldn't let her, but she got an edge of control. She had been so damned close to begging them, even worse, to *trusting* them. If she ever got a safe moment with Palmer, she'd tell him as much. Like when she had him at gunpoint, begging for his miserable life.

The thought gave her strength, and she sucked in air. There was something she could do, right now. "Like watching, Clark?" She hoped he could hear her voice, because it was almost too hard to get words out.

Before she could say more, Stone's lips were firm on hers, and his tongue stabbing into her mouth in an imitation of intercourse that drove everything else out of her mind. She knew Kelleher was by her ear by the brush of his breath, even before he whispered into it.

"We're here, not Mr. Palmer. If you want something, Page, you can have it. We'll give it to you."

Stone lifted his head, and his eyes showed her just how much she was getting to him. "Ask us, Page. Ask us to make you come. Just one word, and you'll get it." He drove his finger into her, then held it there.

"A simple 'please' will tell us. Come on, Page. You've got to want it now. Go ahead; let yourself go."

Kelleher's voice had its own roughness now, and she wished she had more of her wits about her. This was a situation she had trained for, could work with. But not with her body screaming for more.

She closed her eyes and let her body beg for her. Her inner muscles tightened around Stone's finger, and her back arched for more of Kelleher's fingers, now tight on her nipples, the wetness reminding her of how good they'd been on her clit. She was shivering, shaking, right on the edge. Just another few thrusts, a pinch or two, and she'd come without any damned begging.

There was a movement of air near her, and then she heard a short laugh. "So you've been thinking of me, even with all these guys have been doing to you, Page? I'm honored." It was Palmer's voice at her ear, a low, hard growl, and she moaned. Even that made her hotter. "I love seeing you turn into the kind of slut I knew you were: hot, desperate, begging. And we both know you are, Page." She wanted to say 'no', tell him she wasn't, but he was right. Her body was. "Do you know why you're getting this? Because I want you to know your pleasure comes from me." There were more fingers in her, and each nipple had a mouth sucking on it. He must have signaled them somehow, but damned if she cared right now. "Beg out loud, don't say a damned word. Doesn't matter. You're begging with every move that body of yours makes. I want to see you come from what my people do to you. And I want to see you live with it when you realize what you've turned into. Go ahead and get her off. She's more than ready for it."

There were fingers around the back of her neck, holding her tightly. They had to be Palmer's, but the harsh pressure melted into the mix of all the rest that was going on, even added to it. Her nipples were being bitten just enough, her cunt was full, and her clit was getting a squeeze that put her over. She let out a high and long cry, then another.

"That's enough for her. She'll have to earn more." And with Palmer's command, she was empty and alone. When she stopped shaking and got her eyes open, Palmer was standing in front of her, his eyes cool. "Wait until you find out how the drug gets," he promised. "You think you feel good now, but," he laughed, "you're in for a big surprise."

She shuddered. As if his words had woken the drug, it was back, working in her and twice as viciously. She had to come again, and now. And there was precious little chance of that, not with the way Palmer was smiling at her. He knew just what was going on, and loved it. "You bastard."

"You don't sound at all grateful, Page. What, you didn't like what Mr. Stone and Mr. Kelleher did?" He turned to the two men, who were standing to the side. "Gentlemen, take a lesson from this. Some women just don't appreciate attention." His smile was sinister as he flicked it back over Page. "But thank you for your attempts to get her to see things in the proper light. I do appreciate them."

"About Riley, sir," Stone began, but Palmer waved him off.

"You did the right thing. He was way out of line, and I told him so. You won't be seeing him any more. He does not have what it takes to be a Defense Security Division agent." He looked at Page mockingly. "Baby, you'd do better than him."

"Thank you," she spat out. "But I'm not interested."

"Don't worry. It wasn't a serious offer." He turned back to the trainees. "Stay close. I'm very impressed with you. I may find something else for you to do."

"Thank you, Mr. Palmer," Stone said quickly. "We certainly will."

"Thank you," Kelleher echoed. "We're glad to help."

"Page, aren't you going to thank them?" The mockery in Palmer's voice was almost too much to bear. "They've done a hell of a lot for you."

"You want me to suck them off or something?" She shouldn't have said that, she realized as soon as she saw Palmer's eyes narrow, then glitter. It came out too much like a breathy question and not enough like a slap. He might think she meant it, or that it was a good idea. If she got a hard cock in her mouth at this point, she would be lost.

But Palmer only laughed. "That's a good idea. Maybe when I'm sure you'll be a good girl, and a hot one, for my friends here." Stone and Kelleher exchanged a look, and Page could almost hear their amazement at his term for them. They'd moved up in his estimation, and she was sure they'd be plotting how to use that. DSD. Total users. "Gentlemen, if you please. Page and I have a lot more ground to cover, as I'm sure you can see."

The two men nodded and headed for the door. They each gave her a long look before they went out, ones that made her shiver. If they ever got their hands on her again, the looks promised, she'd learn a lot more about waiting. And they definitely hoped that next time she'd be in a position to take more than their fingers in her cunt.

"You should have been nicer to them, baby." Palmer's eyes were laughing after the door shut behind them.

"Your little clones? Why bother?"

"Because they might be the only ones you had a chance of getting anything out of. But you've blown that now. Did you like what they did? I thought they worked together very well. But tell me your opinion, Page. You're the one who got the benefit of their training."

"Fuck you, Palmer. You want an evaluation; you get someone else to give it to you. I don't work for the DSD."

"I told you to call me Clark. Answer the question."

He reached down and pinched her nipple sharply, and she rode out a wave of tortuous not-quite orgasm before she got words out that she thought would make sense. "They're boys. And I knew you were watching. Did you tape it?"

"I always tape lab sessions. And this one was an exceptional one. I'll be showing it around. It might even get them out of the rest of the program."

"Make sure you go over it with your guys. They've got more to learn than you think." A brash statement, she knew, but he was too damned complaisant. "They can't even tell when a woman's faking it."

"Oh, really? Well, I will have to go over the tape then. I didn't catch that at all." He leaned down and spoke softly, his face so close their noses were touching. She couldn't focus on it, and that made her uneasy. She needed all the help she could get. "I thought what I saw was you hot enough to do anything to get off." He pulled his face back so that she could see the vicious glee in his eyes. "I hate to think that you're not enjoying your stay here, Page. Anything I can do?" She didn't answer, just glared at him. "I didn't think you went for the hard-core stuff, but we've got experts in just about everything here. I can get hold of a guy who's better at beating than Riley ever dreamed of being, someone who'll mark you up, never draw a drop of blood, but give you all the pain you want. If that's what you want. Or maybe you're just jaded, and you need somebody with size to fuck you. I can check our records, or if you've off guys, we've got dogs, even some horses. If that's what you want, just say it. But say something, Page. Because if you don't, I'll choose, and maybe you won't like that. Although I think I've been doing very well up to now."

The drug was too damned powerful. Even the things he was proposing were making her wet again, and they were options she'd never want. Well, the guys if they were the right size. She liked a variety. But she wasn't into beating, or animals. He was sick. Or he was trying to get to her. And that was way more likely.

"Let me go." Her voice was harsh. "You've had your fun, Palmer. You can't keep me here forever, you know."

"Can't I?" He straightened and tilted his head. "I don't see why not. Scott will do anything I tell him. The Company's not going to be worrying about you, baby. They think everything's just fine."

"So when are you going to kill him?" She had to think about something other than what that damned drug was doing to her. It had to wear off sometime, she told herself fiercely. "We both know you will."

"I have no plans to kill Scott Kendall. He's useful. Of course, that could change."

"I'll bet he'd love to hear that."

"He's a professional, Page. He knows what he's gotten himself into."

"Come on, Palmer, he's a traitor. You can't trust him."

"I know." His eyes burned into hers. "It's sweet of you to be concerned for my safety," she made an angry noise at that, "but Scott doesn't know where he is, either. He just thinks he does."

So it wouldn't do any good to try and convince Scott to turn back. He couldn't help her, not really. She really was on her own. And in Palmer's power.

He laughed. "You were thinking you could get Scott to change his mind? Oh, no, Page. I've got people watching him. One wrong move, and he is dead. I wouldn't let him in to see you if I thought he was a danger to me. But if you'd like to try, I'll send him in."

"No." She didn't want to see Kendall.

"Whatever." He dismissed the matter. "Comfortable?" Something in his manner changed, and she pulled against the bonds. He was smiling in a way that was dangerous. He'd watched her come, watched the men work on her, but he hadn't really done anything. She knew he had to, at some point. Was it now?

He had a syringe in his hand. "You want this one. It's the antidote to that drug that's driving you crazy. Ask for it."

"The hell I will."

"You like being this hot? This ready to take anything? Fine." His eyes were laughing. "I just wanted to help." His other hand went down between her legs, and she felt two of his fingers thrust into her. She groaned, and he laughed and thrust again. "Just can't get enough, can you, Page?" He pulled the fingers out and wiped them off on her face, leaving the secretions all over her cheeks, her forehead, and even her lips. She was panting. This was so damned humiliating, and he was enjoying it too much. And she wanted to come. She needed it.

"You're going to have to beg for it some time, Page." His voice was soft and amused. "I'm not going to get you off, and I won't let anyone else do it, either. So make up your mind. Beg for the antidote, or beg me to get you off. I can wait a long time, but I've got other things planned. I might just decide to go on to the next one."

He was just teasing her. It couldn't be the antidote. "So what's stopping you? Can't be compassion, Palmer. We both know you don't have that kind of problem."

"You know, I liked Susan Latimer." Was he changing the subject? "She was a sweet girl." His smile actually had something in it that in another man she would have called pain. "I was thinking about her when I got back to the hotel. She was going to be the one good thing in that day." Page was going to say something, but she kept quiet. She wasn't even sure he knew she was there. He blew out a breath. "But she wasn't there." He stared at her. "You weren't there. And I was really looking forward to that night. Was it more fun for you that I was left hanging, Page? Did you laugh about it while you had a glass of wine on the plane back? Or did you wait until you could share the story with your colleagues at the CIA? I'd really like to know."

"It wasn't my call." She had to convince him of that. "I got my orders, just like you did."

He grimaced. "Of course. Too bad they never said you had to fuck me. Would you have, if they had?"

She pushed off the drug just enough to answer evenly. "Of course. I'm an agent. I've had my training."

"Does the CIA give training in sex to women, then?" The pain, if that's what it had been, was gone, and in its place was an avid lust. It made her both wary and hotter. She'd wanted him then, and she wanted him now. She hated to think it, but she couldn't avoid it any more. The trick now was to keep that knowledge from him. It would be a victory, the way he thought. The way she thought, too. "I've always wondered. Scott said he'd heard rumors, but," he laughed, "he'd say anything to keep me interested. Oh, yes, I know that. I've had training, too."

"In sex?" Damned if that didn't slip out.

"Want to find out?" Oh, that was lust all right, she knew as she watched him make a production of stroking the tip of his tongue over his lips. And damn, it was working on her. Her clitoris was throbbing, as was her heart. She was going to go crazy if he didn't stop. He smiled. "You must have wondered, Page. All those nights at the resort, alone, the thought must have crossed your mind if I was any good or not. And then the next message from your contact might have told you to take me to bed. A woman like you, intelligent, passionate," he stretched that out, "must have thought about what it was going to be. Did you think they were going to give you the go-ahead?"

"There was always that chance." She didn't want to think about the picture he was painting. She'd wanted him then so damned much.

"So how did you deal with those lonely nights, baby? I went running. Among other things." His eyes told her what they were, and she pictured him lying in bed, stroking his hard cock, thinking of her.

"I slept," she snapped. She wasn't going to tell him about her sessions.

"Just slept?" His voice was a purr. "I can't believe it was that easy for you. That girl who kissed me back all those times was ready to fall into my bed. Ever think about just doing it with me, Page? Ever dream about it?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Palmer. You were an assignment. Nothing more."

"I don't believe that, Page. You're not that good an actress. You wanted me. And now you're here, my new lover."

"I'll never be your lover, Palmer."

"You already are, baby." He leaned over and fastened his lips on her neck, sucking so hard it hurt, but the pain was so good. She was moaning before he finished. "You just haven't gotten the best of me yet." He stood while she was still gasping. "But you will, when I say so. And on that note," he smiled, "I've got to go. I have work to do, and my trainees are waiting for me. I'm sure you understand."

"I don't give a damn if you stay or go."

"I know. It's breaking my heart." She knew he was making fun of her, knew he didn't mean it. He got down on his knees in front of her, then leaned over and kissed her clitoris, then gave her a few quick licks. "You do taste good," he murmured as she trembled. "Wish I had time to get more than that."

"Come on, Palmer, we both know you can make the time, if you want it. So don't start with shit like that. You're going because you want to, because it fits in with your plans."

"Oh, Page, is that it? You think I'm leaving because I don't want you?"

"Go to hell."

"That is it." His eyes were bright with amusement. He knew she'd been saying something entirely different, but he wasn't going to give her a damned inch. He gave her another kiss, this one on her inner lips and long and slow enough to get her panting, then stood. "You should know better than that. But here, I'll show you just how much I want you." He undid his pants and pulled out his cock. It was hard and thick, long enough to hit her cervix and pulsing with a need of its own, and it looked just wonderful. She tightened her inner muscles. She was sure that if she asked him, if she begged him to fuck her, he would. Or do something to get her off and reward her for breaking. Because that's what it would be. And he knew it. "Convinced?" His eyes were mocking as he saw her tongue trace her lips. "Come on, Page, do you want it?"

"You gave me that drug. I'm only human, Clark. I'd want a goddamned statue if it had a hard cock. And I'd prefer that to you." A lie, but a necessary one. She wasn't going to break.

His smile was feral. "Now that's an interesting idea, although I don't believe that about you preferring a guy made of stone to one made of flesh. You're desperate." He stroked his shaft in a slow motion that made her want it even more. "You just need a little more time and attention to get all those bad-girl thoughts of resisting me, and yourself, out of your head."

Page wanted to tell him he was full of shit, but she didn't trust herself to keep up the pretense, and settled for stony silence. He didn't seem to care as he tucked his shaft back into his pants, handling his stiffness with obvious care but no discomfort.

"And you used my name. That's nice, baby. Maybe there's hope for you yet." He let his eyes pass over her. "But that outfit is looking really tacky. Time to do something about it."

He pulled the knife out again, and she tensed. The sight of it brought back flashes of the bad past, and she didn't want to deal with that now.

"I told you I'm not into cutting," he purred, coming closer. "You've got some serious issues with blades, looks like. Do they know that in the CIA, or did you manage to hide that one?" He was cutting off what was left of her clothing, slowly, making her aware of every piece that came off and of every bit of skin he was exposing. "Well?" He stopped with the flat side of the blade pressed against her erect nipple. The coolness made her nipple even harder. "I want an answer, Page." The threat was left unspoken.

She wanted to tell him to fuck off, but she didn't dare. He could really hurt her with that. "I don't like knives. They know that."

"It's good to know you tell somebody the truth." His voice was light as he bared her. He was down to her skirt now, and that came off with a single slash. He was good, though. He wasn't marking her at all, and she didn't feel the blade against her skin. "Almost done. Oh, but wait a minute. I'm almost forgetting these." He was talking about the remnants of her panties, which he cut off very slowly, letting his fingers brush up against her wetness. She wanted to keep herself from responding, but she couldn't. It was all she could do not to tell him she needed to come, and that was only a step from begging for it. She had to fight this.

"For someone who has to leave, you're sure taking a long time to do it."

He chuckled and drew out the last of her nylons, then pulled off her shoes. She was naked and spread, and she couldn't do a damned thing about it. She hated it, especially when Palmer's eyes lingered on her. "I just can't stand leaving you, baby." His voice was mocking again. "Why don't you ask me to stay? I'd like to hear you say that, even if you don't mean it. Humor me, and I'll see about making you a little more comfortable."

No way. She knew it would come out all wrong, too much like the truth, and he'd twist it up so that he won. "I'll bet you would."

"And you're sure I won't. Well, we'll see who's right in time."

"You're so damned sure you're going to break me. You don't know me at all."

"Don't I?" He smiled, the message in it clear. He had done some research on her. But he didn't have it all, because that was locked up in her head, somewhere he couldn't go. Yes, there were records, but there was no way he could even know to look for them. She was sure of that. "You're closer than you think, Page. And I've got more plans for you. Give in. You don't want to find out what I'll do if you don't."

"Vague threats, and groundless ones," she scoffed. "Just what I'd expect from the incompetent Defense Security Division. Come on, Palmer. I'm no baby. I know what you're trying to pull."

"Then it shouldn't be any trouble at all to get me to let you go. Come on, Page, show me just how good an agent you are." His eyes challenged her. "Make the Company proud."

"Fuck you." There was no way she could do it, and he knew that.

"Is that an offer?" His teasing was almost worse than his insults. "Say it nicer, and I'll see." She glared at him. "All right, Page. You want to keep fighting, that's fine. I'd hate to have all the time I spent planning your surprise wasted. Later. I really do have to go now."

He walked to the door. Thank God, he was going to leave her alone. Maybe the drug would wear off, and maybe she'd find a way to get herself back under control. She knew she'd still be under surveillance, but at least she'd have the semblance of privacy. And the quiet she needed.

He turned with the doorknob in his hand. "You know, I don't like the idea of a guest of mine getting lonely."

"I'm no fucking guest, you bastard."

He raised an eyebrow and pushed the door shut again. "The CIA teach you that language, or did you bring that with you?" He came toward her.

"With me. It's my style, asshole."

"So I see. No, I'm not going to leave you alone. There are agents here who could use a taste of what it's really like to deal with a captive. You can help me find out if they're really good enough for the DSD."

"I don't doubt that. I'd imagine it wouldn't take much at all to get into this outfit. After all," she was proud of her smile, "they took you."

All that did was make him smile. "So they did. I'll go give instructions. And you should know, the guard will be here for more than just keeping you company. He'll give you just enough attention to keep you interested, Page." The glint in his eyes told her he was talking about sex. "Just enough to keep you from getting cocky about beating me. And hopefully, just enough to get you to realize who's in charge here. But who knows, Page? Maybe if you find the right thing to promise him, he'll take you out of those straps, lay you out on the bed, give you what you need. Anything's possible. And since I'll be busy, you might want to find that out."

"Don't make me laugh. Your kids aren't going to listen to me." She was sure he'd tell the men guarding what would happen to them if they did give into her, and it wouldn't be anything good. There was little to no chance she could convince one of them to do anything for her. But she was going to have to try. Damn him. He was setting her up to do what he wanted, and to fail.

"You'll never know until you try."

He leaned over, and this time kissed her full on the lips, his tongue taking her mouth like he had before, when she was undercover. She wasn't ready for that, and found herself kissing him back with all the passion she'd been holding in. He was the one who broke it, his smile even more satisfied as she choked back another moan and some heartfelt swearing. She should have bitten him, damn it. Instead she'd given in to passion.

"It's so good to have you back, sweet Susan," he murmured. "I knew you were there in Page somewhere."

"I am Page. That Susan never existed. It was all me."

"Then I guess that was you kissing me like you meant it. Thanks, Page. That was all I wanted to hear. I'll see you later."

He left on that note, his smile showing how good this victory made him feel.

Damn, damn, damn. He was twisting it up again. And he was winning. How much longer could she take this? She found herself rocking in the bonds, and couldn't make herself stop. She was so damned hot, and she couldn't move, and some guy was going to come in here and watch her, touch her, too. Some guy. She had to start planning for that.

She forced the panic down and started breathing as deeply as she could, which wasn't much. She heard the door open, and made herself ignore it. She did not want to look desperate to this new guy. Resigned, maybe.

He was coming closer. "Hi, Page. Doing better now?" She flicked her eyes up. Oh, shit. It was that kid Kelleher. He knew way too much already. Of course Palmer would have him in. He had a score to settle with her. Palmer didn't have to worry about him giving in. His buddy Stone had to be next in line.

She didn't answer. Speech was one of the few weapons she had left, and she had to use it well. She wasn't going to give him anything yet.

"Mr. Palmer sent me in to look after you, make sure you had everything you needed." He dropped his voice when she didn't say anything then. "Come on, Page, there's no need to be like that. I told you before, I've got nothing against you."

She snuck a look at him. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt now, a big difference from the suit, and his face was sincere, as far as she could read it, but how much could she trust her own instincts any longer? The biggest problem with being held was that after a while, you lost your perspective. And god knows, she'd been through enough that hers just might be in question.

"You can relax, Page. It's just us in here. And my name's John, Jack for short." He came over to crouch down by her when she still didn't speak. "I know you think you need to fight. They teach us the same thing, but you've got to think of yourself. The CIA would want you to stay healthy and alive. Don't they teach that, too?" They did, she realized, but she didn't know what was safe for her to do and still stay Page. "Do you want some water?" He held up a sport bottle, and she was made vividly aware of just how thirsty she was. "Just nod. I know it's probably hard for you to talk, with the drug and all."

She wanted that water so damned much. "Give it to me." A demand wasn't a plea, she argued to the court of herself. It agreed.

He held it up to her mouth. "See? I'm not being bad to you. I just want to help."

She wanted to tell him to help her get out, but swallowed it with the water. It was too soon. And this was probably a set-up, anyway. She was going to have to be patient. She'd gotten this far.

He let her drink until she let go of the straw. "I brought in some chocolate. I thought you might like that, for energy." He fished out a bar of Hershey's. "Do you?"

This was getting closer to begging. But she loved chocolate, and she could use energy. All right, even if it turned out that Palmer had planned all this, and taunted her with that, she'd tell him she knew all the time. And that was the truth. "Yes. I want it." She still hadn't done anything terrible, something smart, really.

He unwrapped it and broke off a small piece. "I'll give you more, but let's take it slow." He fed it into her mouth, and she chewed it, the flavor filling her mouth. "Now, wasn't that good?"

He broke off a larger piece, and she took it eagerly. He wasn't as bad as she'd thought. As soon as that thought crossed her mind, she froze. Damn. She was falling into the trap she'd been warned about in her own training, of thinking he was doing something nice for her. He was playing out some game Palmer had set up, or maybe he'd decided on his own to do this. It didn't matter. He was a DSD agent, and he was not to be trusted. She could not trust this man. She could not trust him. She repeated that to herself as she chewed the second piece. She'd refuse another, she vowed.

But he didn't offer. "Listen, I have to do this. They might check." His voice was apologetic, and she realized just a moment too late what he meant, too late to brace herself.

He was in front of her now, and his curly head was bending to take a nipple into his warm mouth. She bucked and moaned. The drug was back in full force, and she didn't have a single place to hide from the desire that was screaming through her. Only now did she see the real trap. He had gotten her to let down her guard, only a little, but it was enough. The only thing she had left was keeping her mouth shut. Moaning was bad enough, but real, flat-out begging would be the end.

He was stroking her other nipple, pinching it, making it even harder. She was losing herself, spiraling into a place where it didn't matter what she did, what she said, as long as she got more of this.

He stopped sucking, and she moaned. It took all she had not to put words into it. Palmer had said before that he wanted her to come so that she'd see what she'd turned into. She was beginning to. No drug she knew of would work this long. This might be a different one, but she had to face it. There was a part of her that wanted this, was loving it in a deep, dark, vicious way. She wanted to laugh. Palmer thought this would break her? He didn't know her that well. It wouldn't. She was strong enough to face even that.

"Anything more you want, Page?" He was keeping to the helpful persona, but she wasn't going to fall for it again.

"Get away from me."

"I don't know why you're being like this. I told you, I had to do it." His voice was soft and even hurt. He was a pretty good actor, she decided. "If Mr. Palmer found out I'd disobeyed, he'd probably take it out on you. I don't want that."

"I can take care of myself, thank you. Just do your job and make your precious 'Mr. Palmer' happy." This wasn't a bad way to play it. If Kelleher wanted to stay in character, he was going to have to try and make up to her. If not, he'd give up the game. Either way, she won.

He sighed. "I wish you wouldn't fight so much, Page. It's not good for you."

He leaned up and kissed her cheek. The tenderness almost broke her then and there. It had been so long since anyone had treated her as though she were someone with feelings, someone who mattered. Was he really that good? Or just lucky?

"Please don't. You can make it easier on yourself. Mr. Palmer doesn't want that much from you. You're a grown woman, a beautiful, sexy one. You must have had lovers before this. Would having sex with him be so damned terrible?" He nuzzled her neck, and she held in a moan. Damn, everything was setting her off. "He wouldn't hurt you. He's hard on us trainees, but that's his job. He wants you so much."

That sounded so good, but she fought the rush it gave. This kid had some kind of plan, probably one Palmer laid out for him, she reminded herself, and he was following it.

"You should hear how he talks about you after a drink. He was really hurt you left him there. He," he hesitated, then went ahead, "really likes you, thinks you're special. I know it can't be fun being here, but I think all he's trying to do is to get you to admit you like him, too."

"Did he ever hear of sending a card?"

He shrugged. "He's an agent, Page. He takes action." His voice was admiring. Oh, he did think highly of Palmer. Not really a surprise. "Doesn't any of this show you just how much he wants you?" She just gave him a look at that. "Page, please. Just tell me you want him, and I'll take care of the rest. You'll be surprised at how quickly everything will change for you. I'll tell him it was all your idea. I promise."

"So that's what he wants. To hear I want him." She tried to keep her voice even. Oh, she did, but that was the last thing she'd ever admit to. "And you want me to say it, right? Whisper it to you, maybe?"

"Whatever's easiest for you, Page. I want you," he kissed her cheek again, even more tenderly, "to do what's best for you."

He was a sneaky shit. She shook her head. "I'm not giving into Palmer, and I'm sure as hell not giving into you. Drop the act, Jack-boy. It's getting old."

He stared at her with what looked like disappointment, then an even more exasperating compassion. "I'm sorry you're so damned stubborn you can't see when somebody is trying to help you, Page. All right. I'll leave you alone for now. But if you want some more water, or even chocolate, just ask. I'll be over there."

"Until the next time to get me hot, right?"

"Until then, yes. I'm sorry about that. But I can't take the chance that he'll send someone in to check. You'd get in big trouble then, and I don't want that." He rose. "Think about what I've said. I'm willing to help. I don't know if the next guy will be."

"We both know it has to be your friend Stone. So he'll get to be the bad cop this time?" She put as much sarcasm as she could in her voice. "Oh, he'll like that. I can tell."

He just sighed as he went over to the wall and pulled out a folding chair. "You're a suspicious person, Page, although I guess I can't blame you. You don't have a lot of reason to trust us. I'm sure that the CIA paints us with a pretty black brush. But we're not bad guys. I've know Tom all through the program, and he's a nice guy. He doesn't get his kicks from hurting women. I don't know anyone here who does. And I don't know who's next on the list. All I know is that Mr. Palmer asked me to come in here, and told me I had to keep you aroused. That's all."

She didn't answer that. Nicely played. But she'd been around. She hadn't fallen for his tricks all the way, and that was a comfort.

*****

She went through another session with Kelleher, managing not to lose it that time, although it wasn't easy. He was good, working her nipples and her clit until she was hanging on the edge of orgasm. He tried pleading with her, but she told him to shut up, and he did. She drank the water when he gave it to her. It didn't make any sense to deprive herself, and he wasn't even trying to get her to ask for it. She spent the time to herself trying out various strategies for dealing with whatever guy they sent in next, and whatever tack he took. It was good practice, and it kept her busy enough to keep the heat in her body under some kind of control.

When the door opened, she opened her eyes. "Mr. Palmer wants to see you." Oh, yes, it was Stone, all in black and with a look in his eyes that showed he was looking forward to getting his hands and more on her again. So he was playing the predator. It wasn't like he could do anything more than he'd done before, and she could handle that. Palmer had to have told them to keep her tied up. "He's in his office. Anything I need to know?"

"Nothing. Page was no trouble at all." And Kelleher still wasn't giving an inch on the helpful bit. He gave her a look that begged her to give in. "Anything you wanted me to say to Mr. Palmer, Page?"

"Definitely." She gave him her coolest bitch smile as his eyes brightened. Oh, he wanted to be the one to bring the good news, all right. Ambitious shit. "Tell him I'll see him in hell before I'll beg for anything from him. Make sure you get the words right. I hate to be misquoted."

"You don't mean that, and I won't tell him." Kelleher left, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Page took a deep breath. Time to find out how good this one was. She wasn't going to be fooled again, she promised herself, but he was so fucking gorgeous that the throbbing came back, making her cunt clutch at something that definitely wasn't there, then took over her whole body. She swallowed a moan. Didn't that damned drug ever wear off? And why couldn't Palmer send in somebody who didn't do anything for her? He did seem to know what kind of guys got her going, she'd give him that much.

"Hell can sometimes come to you," Stone said softly and took his time coming over to her. Her mouth dried just watching him. A panther, she thought dizzily, a tanned, confident-as-all-hell panther. Oh, man. And what looked and smelled like leather, all over, black vest, pants, boots, even gloves. She hadn't really taken in his clothes before. Just what she needed. "Did you know that? You wake up one morning, and it's right there, drinking coffee, taking a shower, watching your every move. Even," his smile grew darker, "stretched out in your bed."

"I wouldn't be surprised to find out that hell travels. I never thought it was a place."

His smile had danger and promise in it. "I'm sure you wouldn't."

"So what has 'Mr. Palmer' got planned for me now? Or is that some kind of state secret?"

"Maybe you should be more worried about what I've got planned." He was close enough now that the rich, musky smell was all around her. Just smelling it made her want her hands free, either to get herself off or stroke him, she didn't know. "Would you say that hell was torment, Page?" Her name in his mouth was a purr. "I would."

Palmer was using this guy with a great body, and a greater voice, to get her to break. She had to use this, had to find a way to get him to help her. But this one had a serious brain. This one wasn't giving her any room at all to find herself. This one was trouble.

"I'd call anything I get here in DSD-land hell, Stone." She tried her bitch smile again, but it just made his smile deeper and more dangerous.

"I told Mr. Palmer it was a waste of time to treat you like anything but the bitch you are," he purred back and stroked her neck with his leather-covered fingers. Her body betrayed her right away, arching up to get more. "I told him you wanted all the sex you could get, and you'd take whatever came with it. He told me to come in and find out if I was right. He told me," he squeezed her nipple hard enough to hurt, and she cried out in a pain that turned into a moan of pleasure, "to do anything I wanted with you."

Anything? If that was the truth, maybe he had clearance to get her out of this chair. How could she use that? Get him to think that he should, that he'd get lucky. All right. That was within what she'd do. She tilted her head to look up at him. "So what are you going to do to me?" She put a hint of seduction into her voice.

"Now, that's a change," he murmured. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were coming around. But I can tell that you're trying to use me, Page. Sorry, but that's not the way this is going to go. Let me show you what I want from you." He laughed. "What you're going to give me."

He sank down between her legs, the leather scent driving all thoughts but those of getting what she needed out of her mind. She felt his breath, warm and teasing, and bucked toward it, then his tongue licked a long path through her wet lips. She moaned and tried to hang on. Oh, she wanted him. She wanted to feel his cock slide into her, that cock that she'd heard was so big. She wanted him to take everything from her. But she couldn't say it. She couldn't give in. All she could do is moan, and even that was a surrender now. She knew Palmer, watching and listening in some room nearby, got it, and that it wouldn't be enough for him. He wanted the words, wanted the complete surrender. He knew as well as she did that having the drug in her system weakened whatever victory he could get. He had to have more than this planned. This game, as exquisitely tortuous as it was, was still a warm-up. To what, she didn't want to think about. Should she let go, give in? Snatch his victory away from him? Screw up his plans? No. She was Page. She couldn't give in. She couldn't. It would cost her too much, cost her everything. But she wanted to. That was the frightening part.

Stone's fingers were at her opening. "Want it, Page?" His whisper was smooth and compelling. "Want me to fill you up?" She moaned again. "Oh, I think you do. But you're going to have to say something." One finger traced a circle around the lips, pressed down for a heartbeat on her clit. "You have to tell me, Page. Just one word. Say it, and you'll get it. Do it, Page. Do it, and I'll do you."

She gasped and tossed her head. "No," she moaned. "No." She wanted to say other words, like 'please' and 'yes' and 'now', but she wasn't going to give in.

"That's the wrong word, Page. I can't believe you want me to stop." He sucked on her nipple, still stroking her sex. It was too much. She was going to come, going to beg, going to die. He stopped just in time. "Bitch," he whispered, and even the word she hated made her hotter. "Oh, are you a bitch. God, I know about girls like you. Take everything, give nothing. But I'm going to take everything from you." His fingers left her. "Just not now." He stood, gazing down on her shaking body with a cool detachment. "Desperate, Page? Empty?" She bit down hard on her lip. "You had your chance. Think about how that feels, and how good it could have been. Maybe next time, you'll have enough manners to answer when I ask you a question."

Oh, he was worse than Jack Kelleher, as bad as Palmer. This was evil, and he looked as cool as if he'd just sat through one of Palmer's lectures. She couldn't stop shaking as he sat down in the folding chair and watched her with the same detachment. She couldn't stop wanting, even worse. What was happening to her?

They sat in silence for a long while, Page still fighting the passion. It didn't want to let go. God, if she could just get herself off, just come. She found herself staring at Stone and thinking about him driving into her, how it would feel to come with her muscles tight around that big hard cock. When she realized what she was doing, she forced her eyes away. She heard him laugh.

"Did you want me for anything, Page?"

"No." Her answer was short, and she hoped she sounded cold. But she was afraid she didn't.

"I could have sworn I saw something interesting in those green eyes. I know it wasn't that anger I saw back when I met you. No, it wasn't that at all." She kept her mouth shut. Damn, his voice was too sexy, and he was way too smart for his own good. Or hers. "It doesn't matter, though, does it, Page? Time for some more torment." He stood, walking over to her as she watched from the chair, taking his time. "I hope you're going to be more polite this time. More honest with yourself." He let his hand slide briefly over the crotch of his pants, drawing her eyes to the hardness there. "Are you?"

"Shut up, Stone." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Do it, or don't. Doesn't matter to me."

He answered that by driving a finger right into her, so hard and deep she was moaning. "It does matter. Those moans of yours tell me that. Hell is here, Page. And you're in it."

He was down on his knees before she could frame an answer, sucking on her nipple while his fingers pinched her clit. She cried out, then shook. He was going to make her come. Even if he stopped, she'd come. But as she was sure of that, he did stop, and left her hanging.

"No more for you. You're too close." He smiled. "Or did you have something to say to me?"

"No." She wanted to come so much, wanted this to stop even more. But she couldn't give in to Palmer, or anyone else. She just didn't know how much longer she was going to be able to take this. Her body was screaming at her to say 'yes' and come, and her mind was beginning to say that she was going to have to give in, that she couldn't get out of this. She steeled herself. "Tell Palmer I want to see him. Now."

Stone stood, the surprise on his face smoothing away. "I don't know if Mr. Palmer's free right now, Page."

"Go find out, then. I'll bet he is."

"And I'll bet he won't be happy that you think he's at your beck and call. Since it looks to me like it's the other way around." He went to the door, though, and Page choked in a sob. She didn't want to see Palmer, but it was time to talk to him.

There was a low-voiced conversation, then Palmer walked in alone. "Want me for something, darling? I told you that you'd be smart to call for me."

She glared at him. "Listen, Palmer, we're adults. It's time for this farce to be over. What the hell do you want with me? Sex? Fine. Fuck me. You can do it. But take it, and get it over with!"

"It's no farce, Page. You of all people should know that." He pulled over the chair to sit in front of her again. "Think." There was something in his voice that made her pay attention. He was serious. "You're cut off from the CIA, your contact is on my side. You don't know where you are except that you're being held in a DSD facility, which could be anywhere, you're drugged, you're bound, you're outnumbered, and you're physically exhausted. What is in that head of yours that makes you keep fighting me? You can't win, Page. It's time to stop this game of trying to be the brave agent who resists to the end. It just won't happen. You're mine now, for anything I want to do with you."

The worst thing was, it didn't sound that bad any more. She wanted him. She just didn't want to. He was leaning forward, his voice low and intense, and even though what he was saying was all threats, she couldn't keep her eyes off him.

"I can keep you bound in that chair until your body physically loses the capacity to resist. I can hook you up to an I.V. to keep you hydrated and nourished enough to keep you alive, and no more. I can keep you on any drug I decide to try, any drug I think will help break you. I can do anything I want to you, Page. And just in case you're not sure of this, believe me, I will."

"And then you'll kill me. So why not keep fighting, when that's the alternative?"

He shook his head. "I don't intend to kill you, Page. That's never been the point."

"You have to do that or let me go some time, Palmer. And I won't promise to be quiet about this. So you have to kill me. It's only logical."

His smile was back to normal for him, cool and amused. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were looking forward to death."

"I'm not."

"I know that. But you don't have to worry. I've got that under control, baby. You won't be saying a damn thing about this to anyone."

"Why not?"

His eyes were thoughtful as she watched him. "Well, it really won't hurt to tell you. I've got a drug that will alter the paths of your memories. You'll remember, but the memories will seem more like dreams you had about me capturing you. You won't believe any of it really happened." He laughed at the look of horror on her face. "That's right, Page. You won't be able to trust your own mind. Of course, you won't remember this conversation too well either."

Page tried to recover. If her damned body would just stop wanting to get fucked so much, maybe she could figure out what to do with all this information. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was scared. He could do anything he wanted. He seemed to know what he was doing. And she didn't know at all.

"You know, I asked you a question a while ago and you never answered me. How about telling me now?"

"What was the question?"

She didn't want to give him anything, but the whole situation was pressing in on her. She'd heard rumors of drugs like whatever one he was planning on using. And the CIA didn't know anything was wrong. She made herself push the fear away one more time. She was not going to give into Clark Palmer. If he was getting anything from her, he was going to have to take it, just like he had been doing. And that meant, to her, that she was winning in the only way she could.

"I asked you about the training the CIA gives women in sex. I've heard some rumors about some really interesting scenarios they put you through." His voice was a low purr. "Do they really put you in a room with a group of guys who are supposed to be have taken you captive, and play out the whole scenario, rapes and all?"

"Fuck you." That was absurd.

He laughed. "I'll bet that kind of language went over well during that exercise. Did you pass or fail?"

"We don't do that," she snapped, hoping he'd shut up about this. "You sure you're not remembering something from DSD training? Say, what they did to you?"

"We're trained to deal with capture, Page." Her insult didn't seem to reach him at all. "And let me tell you, if the situation was reversed and you'd taken me, I'd be free."

"You wish."

"I know." His confidence was hard to resist. He smiled. "I know that the first thing is to be what the other person wants you to be, Page. You're having a hard time with that one."

He was right. She pulled against the bonds. "Damn you, Palmer. Let me go."

"I can't believe they don't teach you anything useful to do when you're taken, Page. That's too bad. How about I show you something about our training? After all, you are a fellow agent." She didn't trust him. His eyes were glittering enough that she was sure that whatever he was talking about was part of his plan for her. "How about it, Page? I've got something right now that might interest you. In fact, I'm sure it will. Come on."

He undid the thigh bonds, then the ankle ones before she knew what was happening. He yanked her to her feet, and her thigh and leg muscles cramped from being in one position too long, making her groan and fall against his body. She didn't even get a chance to try to escape. She was too weak, too slow, and her wrists were still bound behind her back. He laughed and held her tightly against him, her breasts pressed up against his chest. Her nipples were hard and throbbing against the slight roughness of his shirt, especially since she could feel his hard cock pressing through the fabric of his pants and against her belly. She wanted it, wanted him, and she knew he knew it.

"It is good to see you realize just what you are, Page," he purred. "A female who needs a guy to fuck her." He pressed her closer against him. "I'm here. Why don't you ask me if I'm interested? I'm in the mood. We can put off your tour a while."

She tried to pull away, but he had her in too tight a grip, and her body was still weak and shaking. "This isn't me responding. It's this damned Venus drug of yours." At least she had that.

He chuckled. "Hate to tell you this, Page darling, but all that's running around in your blood now is what your glands put there."

"Liar."

"No, baby. The Venus drug wore off, oh, an hour ago. That was one of the reasons I wanted Stone and Kelleher to keep an eye on you. Sometimes it has bad side effects as it wears off. But you were fine."

"I don't believe you." But a sick feeling in her confirmed it. This wasn't the franticness of the drug. This desperation was hers, her need to get laid. Her liking of what he and his boys had done. Her weakness coming through one more time. Damn, damn, damn.

"Too bad for you." His finger probed into her, drawing a gasp. When he pulled it out again, he showed it to her. It was coated with her juices. "This is all you, Page. You're loving this."

He slid the finger into his mouth and sucked it clean as she felt her cunt tighten. She wanted his finger back, wanted his mouth, his cock in her, anything she could get. But she had to keep herself from saying it. It was all she had left. She didn't care about what he said about the futility of resistance. It was what she had to do.

"My body is getting off on this. Not me."

"No, Page. Your mind wants it, too, even though you don't want to admit it. I know that about you." He smiled mockingly. "You should be thanking me for bringing your fantasies to life, not giving me shit. But it is hard to face that darkness, isn't it? I understand."

She snarled at him, but before she could try anything more than struggling, he had his hand around her throat, tightening it until she went limp against him.

"Better." He kept his grip tight as he dragged her out of the room and down the hall. He stopped at an open door. "Go on in, Page." He undid the cuffs on her wrists, then shoved her through the doorway into the bare room. She fell onto her hands and knees. "This is how we train to deal with women like you. Have fun."

She lifted her head. There were men in there, coming toward her. She tried to get her body into a position to be ready to attack, but they were on her too quickly. Two had her by the arms and two her legs, lifting her off the floor, carrying her over to a large table and spreading her out on it. To her surprise, they didn't bind her, simply kept her arms and legs pinned with the weight of their bodies. She twisted and turned, trying to get free, but she couldn't. There was the smell of leather all around, and her head spun from it. There was something wrong here, more than just a bunch of guys ganging up on her. It was too much like the time she remembered. And they were all wearing leather jackets and shades. Oh, god. She whimpered. Somehow Palmer knew about her worst fear. He'd found out about the gang rape. And he was, had to be, going to reenact it. At least he'd kept the knives out of it. The knives had been the part that gave her nightmares. So why wasn't he doing that? She didn't understand.

As a confirmation of her fears, another man stepped forward. He had his cock out by the time he was close enough to use it, and he did, shoving it into her with a force that made her gasp. She caught a glimpse of his face and knew that it was Scott Kendall. The look on his face was angry and cold, and he used her mercilessly, pounding in a way that got him off quickly, but didn't do anything for her. She was choking back sobs when he pulled out. It was too hard. It hurt her. And she couldn't get away.

Another man came up between her legs, and she tensed, waiting for more of the same. "You're not enjoying it, lady." His voice was soft, but she knew right away who it was. Stone. Did Palmer really know everything? It was beginning to look like he did. She waited tensely. "I don't rape women. I take them. And they want it." Almost the exact words. And Stone, who'd gotten her close to begging just a little while ago. She didn't have any defenses left. "Spread her wider. And hold her." The men at her legs pulled them farther apart.

The next thing she knew, his mouth was licking and sucking and biting, taking the pain away and waking her arousal with a vengeance. She was whimpering and pushing herself toward him to get more. He stopped before she could come and thrust into her as hard as Kendall had, but she was ready for it. Her cry was loud, wordless, and very clear. She wanted him, and he knew it.

"Bitch," he muttered. "Good bitch. That's better. Show me how much you want it. If you do a good job, I'll let you have more."

She did what she could to show him. It was and wasn't the same, but it was everything, just like the rape had been. There was nothing else in the world except the feel of his cock in her and the orgasm that was building.

He stopped before she could come. "No," she moaned. "No, don't stop."

She heard a laugh she knew. "It's not over yet, Page. You'll get your chance, if you say what I want to hear." It was Palmer, and he was the man who was holding her right arm. Of course he wouldn't miss this show. "And I think you're ready to say it." He leaned in and kissed her with a tenderness and a passion that was too much for her. She clung to his lips, moaned into his mouth, wanted him so much she couldn't stand it any longer. "Oh, that's much better," he murmured when he broke the kiss. Stone was still motionless, and the feel of him inside her was driving her crazy. "You've done so well, held out so long, but you have to be ready to stop. Tell me. I'll give it to you," his voice was caressing, soothing, promising everything, "but you have to tell me."

She had nowhere to hide now, no drug, no rescue, no one to turn to but Clark Palmer and the men who were waiting their turn. She couldn't fight any more. She needed this, she wanted it, and she couldn't stop it or them. She moaned as she felt herself break.

"Please. Please fuck me." Just like before. These men didn't give a damn for anything but fucking, and neither did she. Just a damned hungry animal. A slut, a whore, a bitch in heat was all she'd ever be, and right now all she wanted to be. "Clark, don't let it stop." Now she was begging Clark Palmer to come. Oh, god. What she'd turned into.

"No, Page. I won't let it stop," Palmer murmured into her ear. "Go, Stone. Finish." The cock started thrusting again, and she screamed in an immediate orgasm. "Good girl. That's better." She moaned. She needed more, and she'd felt Stone come, too. Now he was pulling out. "You'll get all of this you want, I promise you. Take her good and hard," he said to whomever had his cock probing her opening. She arched up to get more. "Make her come." She wondered why he was being so nice to her, when he'd won. She would have expected him to gloat and taunt her about her weakness. The concern was quickly swallowed up by the need.

"Yes, Mr. Palmer," she heard a familiar voice answer, and knew it was Kelleher in her now.

"Please, Jack. Please." She didn't care that she was begging. She needed more, needed it now.

"I should make you wait," he growled, but then Palmer's voice came cool and clear.

"No more waiting. You heard me. Get her off."

Kelleher didn't answer, instead reaching down to pinch her clit between his fingers as he thrust, and she came again. The pleasure flashed through her body too quickly, and she groaned. She still needed more.

"What, Page?" Palmer was leaning over her, his lean face intent. "Ask for it."

"More, please, more. Please, Clark." She was going crazy. It wasn't enough.

"Next," she heard Palmer say tersely, "and hurry up." She was arching against the table, body begging for more. And it came, another hard cock slamming into her, a welcome one. She snapped back her head, but before it could hit the table, there was a hand there to cradle it. Clark Palmer's hand. "Take it easy, baby, you'll get it. You'll get all you want. I said so, didn't I?"

And she did get it. Each of the men took her, made her come, as Palmer stayed up by her head, whispering to her, hearing her pleas, and snapping out orders to the men to fuck harder, eat her, kiss her breasts. It was like being an empress, she thought for one dizzying moment, except that she didn't know any more who she was. She was Page, but who was that? Another word that meant nothing. All that mattered was the way the men filled her, the way the voice at her ear kept her safe, kept her there.

Finally she couldn't take any more. She was limp against the table, and the last man pulled out as she heard Palmer's voice. She couldn't make out what it was saying. For a moment she wondered what happened now, but she really didn't care. She was finished with sex, and she just wanted to sleep.

*****

Continued in part 2

JAG

Fiction