Mickey: Work Day 5

Mickey took a quick hot shower and then took her time dressing in the clothes provided for the next part of the mission.   It was a simple outfit, a pair of black panties, black high heeled sandals,  and a tight black mini-dress.  Once she was dressed she spent some time on her makeup and then styled the blonde wig before pulling it on.   There was also a large matching leather purse into which Mickey placed her makeup and identification papers, as well as her copy of Fifty Shades of Grey in Italian.   She then inspected the apartment.  Though the support team would thoroughly purge any sign of her presence, she made it a habit to limit the things she touched and to keep her equipment organized and under control.  Her scuba gear and bikini were placed in the bag that had previously contained her new outfit.   Nothing else looked out of place.  She took one last look in the mirror and she decided being blonde for a day was a nice change.  With that thought she turned on her heel and strutted out  the door.

In accordance with the mission plan, Mickey’s next stop was the five star hotel J.K Place.  Fifteen minutes later she was in a taxi for the short ride to the north side of the island.  In her purse was the key to room 242.  There she would complete her mission.  The hotel  was one of the most prestigious on Capri.  Its white contemporary design offered fantastic accommodations and fabulous views of the sea.  But, unfortunately, those characteristics were totally irrelevant to Mickey on this trip.  What she were concerned about was that the hotel, and specifically room 242, overlooked the walled villa of Ricardo Maggio, the Don of the Maggio crime family.    He was the focus of the mission.

After a short half hour ride, Mickey  walked into the lobby of the  hotel.  She was again conscious of the instant attention of almost the entire lobby the second she walked through the large glass doors of the classic hotel.  She smiles softly to herself as she clipped across the ornate tile floor and past the soft white leather furniture in her gorgeous but totally impractical high heels, her bottom swaying under the clinging material of her dress.   Mickey unconsciously added just a little more wiggle to her hips for the benefit of those watching.  She walked confidently past the large ornate mahogany desk to the bank of elevators.  A few minutes later she was in a second floor luxury room with a balcony that overlooked the large circular drive of the Maggio villa.

The room was simple but elegant.  Butter soft leather furniture, stone tile, polished brass fixtures, a large feather soft bed cover by a thick comforter in soft pastel colors.  But what caught Mickey’s attention was the worn black gun case on the bed.  She went straight to it and opened it up with a smile as she saw the familiar black parts of her custom made Chey Tac Intervention M200, bolt action .408 mm sniper rifle.  She had turned it over to the mission director after her last session on the range at Quantico a week ago, and now here it was.  She loved it when a plan came together and seeing the familiar shape of the weapon which she had fired literally thousands of times gave her a great deal of confidence and comfort.  It only took a few minutes to assemble the sophisticated compact  rifle and check its operation.  She carefully set the three rounds of hand made ammunition out next to the weapon.  Three rounds was more than she would need. The mission was coming together.

A look at her watch indicated that she had about an hour before the window for mission execution would begin.  She took ten minutes to familiarize herself with the shooting position from the balcony.  It would be about a six hundred yard shot.  She would be shooting with the aid of the bipod on the rifle resting on the balcony wall, and she would be seated in the hotel desk chair.  There was no wind, and although there was a good bit of vegetation none of it obstructed her view of the entrance to the villa. The vegetation would make it difficult to spot her easily from the area of the villa and though not silenced the rifle barrel was baffled to distort the sound and make it difficult to place.  It was a good shooting position and an easy shot for a marksman of Mickey’s caliber; particularly since she was specifically directed to go for a body shot rather than the more difficult but almost always fatal head shot.  Her bosses had indicated that a fatal shot was nice but not necessary.

Mickey looked at her watch.  Forty minutes until the target arrived.  She was feeling a little fidgety.  Not nervous, but there was a tension in her body.  She recognized it immediately.  Mickey had a highly energetic libido.  On another mission she had been exposed to a mind altering psychotic drug which had given her a very high level of sexual energy, a lack of inhibitions, and some unusual sexual proclivities.  It was one reason why the agency allowed her to work several nights a week as an erotic dancer –she had to burn off her erotic energy regularly in order to keep the balance of her life normal.  She could tell that the energy was building, and as she waited for the mission window it would build quickly and begin to effect her.  Unless she did something about it.**

Mickey sank back into the luxurious soft sofa in the corner of the suite and spread her legs slightly.  She gripped the hem of her dress and bunched it around her waist.  Lifting her hips she slid her lacy black thong down her silky smooth tanned legs.  She pulled one high heeled foot free of the panties so she could spread her knees further apart.  The wispy panties dangled from her other ankle.  Mickey leaned back and glanced at the book laying on the floor.  Fifty Shades of Grey.  She had read it with her lover Julia several months before.  Neither one of them cared much for the male character Christian, and overall they thought it was mediocre erotica and slightly less impressive fiction.  Still, there were some very hot scenes, and the female character Anastasia was attractive.  She focused on one of those hot scenes, and in her mind substituted herself and Julia for the two lead characters.

Mickey knelt on a large bed covered in black satin seats.  She was wearing two pair of handcuffs.  One set attached to each wrist.    Julia gently pushed on her back encouraging her to bend and put her  head down against the cool sheets.  She bit her lip to stop her naturally aggressive personality from protesting and mentally allowed herself to sink deep into submission.  She released her control to Julia.   Julia took her left hand and pulled it back to her ankle and snapped the other end of the cuff around her leg.  She repeated the binding by cuffing Mickey’s right hand to her right ankle.  Mickey pictured herself: bent over, knees spread, head down, her round behind high and inviting, her arms helplessly tethered to her ankles.  She blushed in humiliation and at how wanton and needy she looked.  Her breathing quickened and she shuffled her knees further apart.  She could feel herself moisten and the cool trickle of her lust wetted her thigh.  Mickey strained to look behind her.  In the soft light she could see Julia, blonde and beautiful and wearing soft black leather.  Being nude and bound before her dominating lover Mickey was overwhelmed by a feeling of helplessness which ignited a hot burning fire deep inside her.  Then she noticed the thick black rod attached to the harness between Julia’s legs.  Her arms pull helplessly against the hard steel cuffs as Julia moved behind her.

Mickey shuddered one last time and her eyes flew open.  Slowly she removed her hand from the damp soft spot between her legs.  One last tremble rippled through her body and she braced herself on the sofa and savored it.  With a deep sigh the last little shiver passed and she relaxed deep into the soft cushions.  She opened her eyes and saw the menacing black form of the M200 still sitting quietly on the low table in front of her.  She smiled and noted the tension was gone and she was completely relaxed.  Back to reality.