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“Done”

With a sigh of relief she pushes herself off on the edge of the desk and curls her legs underneath her body in her seat. Finally the panel is finshed, the wires solded to the right connectors, power checked and functions working. It’s been 10 days since she curled up in her seat for the first time in the lighthouse, and since then she has been working non stop. The work on the 3-d booth is progressing nicely and it seems they will be finished well ahead of schedule. Her extra hands allow Klaus to focus on the building and installing team, while she works on the operations module of the booth.

As she worked her way thrugh the manuals and electrical schemes, she discovered some wear and tear to the module, damage done in the multituse of buil;ding, breaking down and rebuilding again. This booth has been used at least 25 times, on practically as many locations. Pushing herslef to correct as much as she encounters, she has managed to divert her mind from pondering too much. Though she still finds it hard to fall asleep in the soft english bed, and to quiet the little voice in her head, she has found solace in the work she does.

Being done with this part of the puzzle, she allows herself to take a break and refill her mug in the kitchen, a door down the corridor. As she enters, she finds Klaus, who is on the phone, his face distorted in a concentrated look. She halts in her step as she sees worry in his expression , his eyes jumping to her face as she enters, then quickly diverted away. He quickly ends the conversation and she moves further into the kitchen, having waited at the door, not to disturb her colleague. As she slips her mug underneath the nozzle of the coffeemachine, she looks at him intrigued.

“Is everything ok Klaus? Or did you get out of bed on the wrong side?”

Since he arrived in the UK and took board in the same hotel as her, he and the landlady had taken liking to eachother and many nights are spent in her room, in the house behind the hotel, instead of his own. The large German doesn’t react to her playful joust, instead he folds his hands together and locks her eyes with his, his eye brows frowning in a serious look. He nudges his head towards the chair on the other side of the table, signalling her to take a seat. With a million questions in her eyes, she sits down and waits until he starts talking. Knowing him well, she knows he has to find the right words, before he can talk.

“Ella, He is here.. And he wants to see you.. He’s waiting in the hotel”

“Why?”

Her words slipping from her lips before the news has settled in her mind. This is indeed strange and immediatly she understands the worried look of her co-worker. It is highly unusual that mr Liska would visit the site personally. It has only happened twice, on both occasions the deadline was at risk and he came in to take matters into his own hands. The reputation of the IUD the most valued asset of the hidden organisation. He showed his skill on both occasions and both deadlines were met. The projectmanager in charge was fired without hesitation, and sued for negligence until he was broke. As her boss told her numerous times, ‘failure isn’t tolerated, but annihilated with a vengance’. This time it can’t be the reason of a deadline being threatened, they are almost a week ahead of schedule.

“I don’t know Ella, but you’d better get there as fast as you can. If you hurry, you can get off the island before the tide blocks the causeway”

“I guess I will be on my way then”

A quick look outside the window ontop the causeway, tells her she needs to hurry indeed. In 10 minutes the causeway will be closed and if she tried, she would be washed off in her car halfway. She quickly gets up from her chair and hurries back to the control room. She picks her bag off the floor and collects her keys, phone and liquorice, before heading to her car. As she arrives at the end of the causeway and reaches the shore, she is met with a civil servant, looking at his watch and shaking his head, shouting a punitive sentence at her window. Without giving him the light of day, she speeds off and within a couple of minutes, she reaches the hotel.

With a heavy heart and with her feet like millstones in her shoes, she enters the rear entrance of the hotel, and walks into the small breakfast room. With his back turned to the door, in the afternoon light of the sun, her boss is leaning back in his characteristic pose, his hand caressing the white goatee on his chin. As she arrives at the table, placing her bag on the chair next to the one she’s planning to sit in, she looks at him. His face expressionless as always, dressed like a gentleman. An expensive suit, with a deep red tie and a little silver rose decorating the fabric. She places her hands behind her back as she stands in front of him, looking into his eyes with an open visor.3

“You wanted to see me sir?”

“Yes Ella, I am glad you could come this quickly. I have an important question to ask and I wouldn’t ask it, if I didn’t have a suspicion of your answer. Please, sit down. Tea?”

Without awaiting her answer, he picks up a porcelain teapot and pours two cups of tea, adds sugar and cream and even stirs before he gently pushes the cup and saucer towards her. As she takes her place, he stirs his own tea, adds some more sugar after tasting the tea form his spoon and then folds his hand together, his forearms hugging the cup in front of him. His eyes probe hers as they interlock, drawn to his grey-green irissses unwantingly. Suddenly she feels exposed, the sense of her shields of defense being penetrated by that single look, as if he looks through her clothes, right into her soul. The feeling makes her twitch and the nervous movements of her fingers draw the attention of her boss.

“There is no question of problems Ella, I have come to you with a personal request. A request from the Target himself”

“What do you mean sir? A request from the Target. I can’t remember we have ever gotten a request”

With a big smile, her boss leans back in his chair again, his hand automatically moving up to his chin, but forced down to take hold of the cup of tea. In all rest he takes a sip, places the cup back on its saucer before he continues.

“Ella, this Target is someone special, you might have noticed the elaborate fashion of this assignment. I have spoken to him, as I have spoken to him hundreds of times before. I know him quite well, as he is my nephew”

“Your nephew? But sir.. Isn’t that against all regulations?”

Her eyes widen as the words sink in and the implications and questions start flowing through her mind. ‘Why would he chose his nephew as a target? The handbook forbids it. And why is he telling me all of this? And what does he want to ask me? No trouble? I feel rather uncomfortable for a good news conversation’. Her fingers still moving, interlocking, then releasing, rubbing her palms, concentrating on the tiny spec of dust that has collected under the nail of her right index finger.

“Who wrote the handbook you think? It doesn’t matter.. He found out, he knows all and he also knows what the purpose of his ultimate prize is... And that lead him to set a condition. He wants something, someone to be precise, in order to continue and finish his quest”

“Who does he want?”

Her heart starts pounding, her body heats up and suddenly her fingers slip, her hands wet with cold sweat. Unconsciously she starts to lean forward, her eyes greedily looking into those of her boss, her hands slising forward, almost touching his cup of tea. Her body starts to tingle and a flock of butterflies lifts off in her stomach, almost making her loose balance and slide off the front of the chair. Her cheeks flush as she notices her own eagerness to hear the answer, the hope that has lingered inside of her since the first time she saw the Target’s face, is suddenly ignited with reasons she doesn’t comprehend. Confused, but hanging on the lips of her boss, her eyes plea to hear the words.

“He wants a girl in zebra socks. Any idea who that might be?”

The twinkle in the eyes of her boss make her blush even more. ‘Zebra socks.. The socks she had on when she went to the theatre’. It became her lucky charm, bying funny socks whenever she had to host a Choice or to go out in the field. The first time she went out, her stockings ripped and in the freezing cold, she was forced to wear the first and only pair of socks she could find at the gasstation. Pink elephants on a lime green background. They were awfull, but she finished her first solo assignment with flying colors. Her heart pounding faster as ever before, her throat suddenly clenching and drying out within a second. With trembling fingers she picks up her tea and takes a sip, moistening her throat, her voice still raspy.

“Sir... Do you mean for the final night?”

Her heart skips a beat and a silent YES is screamed out in her head at the top of her lungs. She feels her armpitts drown in sweat, her body hot and tense, a strange tingle resonating in her lower body. She leans in further, her hands forming into fists, her knuckles whitening as the anticipation increases the tension in her muscles.

“Yes Ella, he wants you for the final night”

She feels herself start to float above the table, looking down on herself and her boss, noticing her own tense posture, the rest and peace in the hands and face of her boss. Unable to stop herself, detached with the shock of the request, the automated defense mechanism are set into motion and she hears herself answer.

“I need to think about that sir”

Her voice sounding metallic and distant, the words not uttered congruently, she hears her own desire tremoring in the words. Hovering above the table, she starts to scream at herself, reaching down, her hands grabbing air as she fights to get back into herself. The rational answer so contradictory to what her heart is trying to impose on her, she feels torn inside and lost. Instead of slipping back onto herself, she feels the coolness of her defensive walls as they close around her heart.

“Ofcourse Ella. I leave tomorrow morning. By then I must have your answer”

Though the response seems to open doors to escape from the opportunity, driven off by her defensive system, the urgent undertone in his voice tells her differently. Without a word she gets up from her chair and walks out of the hotel, drawn to the shore line, the soft breeze blowing her hairs back, a lock of hair caught on her cheek. Thoughtlessly she brushes the tress away and looks out over the ocean, the horizon obscured by the tremoring warm air above the waves. Her fingers twitching behind her back, questions, thoughts and desires tumbling in her head.

***

It’s 07:00 am, the alarm has gone off and slowly I push the sheets off my body, forcing myself to get out of bed. I’ve been back to work for a couple of weeks since this mystery started, and nothing has happened since. The mystery phone has gone silent, having to buy an adapter to keep the battery alive, it never buzzed again after pointing out the right clothing store. Ever since, the thoughts about the IUD and my discoveries about the organisation have occupied my mind, driving me half to obsession. After two tries to meet with my uncle, he made it clear there was no use discussing anything until after the final night. Today, that is 22 days to go.

There are still urgent questions that keep me busy as I get out of bed and hop into the shower, taking just a few minutes to wash my hair and body, not bothered to shave. Though today is the day I go to one of the most exclusive male clothing stores, it is also my day off. ‘Why am I supposed to go to this store? I have plenty of suits or outfits that would suit any occasion’. I shrug my shoulders and get out of the shower, my body dripping wet with water. With just a towel around my hips, I walk up to the mirror, whiping the condensate off the mirror. I pull a few funny faces, jiggle my hips and act silly, trying to out the tenseness that has knotted in my stomach. I am excited, nervous, anxious at the same time. Both times I went out for this mystery and had to go to some place, I was confronted with pure sex. The blowjob from the receptionist at the luggage deposit, the show of girls in the theatre. What will be presented this time?

I get dressed in my bedroom, a simple outfit that is comfortable to wear. A black shirt, blue jeans and a sweater, socks and shoes I can easily slip in and out of. I walk down the stairs, into the kitchen and turn on the coffee machine, rolling a cigarette as it heats up. I inhale the sharp smoke as i press the button of the machine and wait for the mug to fill. I walk into the study, set the cup down and look at the mystery phone. Nothing, like all days before. I open my laptop and check my schedule for the next day, only a few appointments, that could be rescheduled if needed. Uncertain of what the day will bring, I’ve informed my personal assistant, I might be away for longer as one day.

I look at the clock: 08:00, almost time to go. By subway it will take me about an hour and a half to get to Madison Avenue, so I should leave soon. I push myself off my chair and grab my keys off the desk, the knot in my stomach suddenly tightening, adrenaline starting to rush through my veins. The walk is not too far and the early morning is still chilly, dew covering cars and trees, the street busy already. I arrive at the subway station, get my ticket and move to the right level. Deciding to travel light, I only have a light jacket on, with my wallet, phones and house keys and I move through the crowd with ease.

Unable to find a seat, I hold on to one of the bars in the train unit as it serpetines its way through the tunnels. Unable to hold my balance, after a series of short, unexpected shift, I bump into a woman standing next to me, my arm accidentally pushed between her breasts. Quickly I grab the bar tighter and pull myself away from the woman, apologizing for my clumsyness. Without a word she clamps her purse under har arm and starts to move away, forcing herself through the people crowding the train.

Finally the train hobbles into Lexington Av and 63rd street and I get out. It’s only a few blocks and soon I across the street from the store. The facade looks clean, the bricked walls as if they were recently washed. The curb in fromt of the store spotless, not a left paper or leaf spoiling the crisp appearance of the store. I cross the street quicckly and suddenly my heart starts to pound in my chest, my hand lifting to push the door open. It slides open with ease and a little uneasy I walk inside.

The interior of the store is warm and light, the white marble floor covers the full surface of the store, the walls panneled with warm, light wood, spots lighting out the design, filling the store with a clear glow. As soon as I enter, a store-assistant approaches me, her face slightly distorted with a deprecatory look. I slide my hands in my pockets while I wait for her to reach me, looking around the store.

“Welcome to Domenico Vacca, I am Veronica. Is there anything I can do for you?“

“Hello Veronica, I have an appointment at 10:00”

“An appointment, sir? May I have your name? I will check the calendar. Would you like to take a seat?”

“My name is mr Weaver. I’ll wait overthere”

I look around and see 3 large leather seats set around a glass coffee table and slowly start to walk over, letting my eyes drift over the clothes and shoes, gloves and handbags, the quality indeed granting the high prices I see. I sit down in one of the seat and keep my eye on the girl as she walks behind the counter in the centre of the room, tapping away at a keyboard, looking intensely at a screen. I see her eyes squint, click a few times, then lean in to look closer, before she looks at me. Again she turns to the screen and then picks up a phone. Only a few words are exchanged before the phone is put down and she starts to walk over to me.

I am half way on my feet, when she raises her hands and urges me to keep seated. Her face is a little flushed and the words are not flowing from her mouth as in her initial, arrogant approach.

“Mr Weaver, I have just spoken to the manager. She will be here shortly to meet you. Is there something I can do for you in the meantime? Something to drink maybe? coffee or water?”

“Coffee would be great”

Suddenly I notice her cleavage, which seems to be deeper. As she leans in, I see her breasts fall into her shirt, pushing the opening in the fabric further apart, her nipples showing hard beneath the silk. Having glanced her over as any man does when meeting an attractive girl, I am convinced she somehow managed to open an extra button without me noticing. She smiles, turns and then knocks a couple of magazines off the curved glass table, bending forward in front of me to pick them up. Her skirt slides up her thighs, spanning over her well formed buttocks, the top of her stockings just visible as her fingers grab the magazines. Then she walks off, turning her head and glancing at me, before reaching the coffee machine.

When she returns, she hands me the cup personally, instead of putting it on the table, letting her fingers slide over mine, leaning in even further, the miss of a bra appearant from the look she allows me. I take the cup and saucer from her and thank her, watching her swaying hips as she walks back to the counter. I add the single sachet of sugar, stir and taste, squinting my eyes with the bitterness. I smile, find the girl behind the counter, having felt her eys on me the whole time. I only have to look at her and then at my cup and immediatly she leaves her spot and walks up to me again.

“Do you have more sugar Veronica? I like my coffee very sweet”

“Ofcourse mr Weaver, I’ll be right back”

Again that quick look over her shoulders as she sways her hips seductively. Soon she returns with the sugar, but before i can blend the grains with the dark liquid, a blonde woman appears from a hidden door in the back, entering the room in the corner of my eye. A flash of recognition hits me as she starts to walk closer, the blonde hair, the full breasts, the long legs but especially that smile all too familiar. ‘The girl from the theatre...’ Immediatly my heart starts pounding, time seemingly slowing down the closer she gets. She looks at me directly, drawing my attention to her and her only, almost demandingly.

She’s dressed in a short, deep red velvet skirt, pronouncing the curve of her hips and the lenght of her legs. Her torso wrapped in a black top, her arms bare, just one button keeping the fabric together around her breasts. Her face soft, the look in her eyes vibrant, like a smouldering fire, ready to roar up. The minimal make-up makes her face light up with her natural beauty. She slows down her pace as she nears me, extending her arm, offering me her hand to greet me. I take her slender fingers in mine and look into her eyes as I squeeze gently.

“Good morning mr Weaver, I am so glad you could make it. I am Chloe, and I will help you today. Would you please follow me?”

“Good morning Chloe. I think we have met before, but were never formally introduced. I am glad we are now. I am in your hands, lead and I will follow”

“Maybe we have mr Weaver”

She smiles seductively, turning her head slightly away, curling her lips in a shy smile before she steps away and lets me get up. Making sure I am right behind her, she walks to the back of the store again, her movements self-assured, seductive, a natural sexual energy making her body move fluently. Immediatly I feel the same excitement as in the theatre, strongly attracted to her, my body not unresponsive to the girl right before me. She opens the door and steps a little to the side, her hand inviting me, her body leaving only a narrow gap to slide through, into the corridor behind the door. I smile and move through the gap she’s left and feel her body lean in as soon as I rub up against her. I feel her breasts drag along my arm, her warm breath on my face as she brings it close to me. My hips touch her abdomen and I can feel the warmth of her body through my clothes. Her voice soft and low, almost a moan.

“Just up the stairs and through the door, mr Weaver”

I walk the few paces to the stairs and climb them slowly, hearing the soft clicks of the high heels of Chloe right behind me. I can feel her eyes burn on me as I reach the top of the stairs and step through the open door. I enter the room and look around. It’s practically empty, except for a table with a small laptop, a couch to the side, below the only window in the room. And in the center of the room, a machine is connected to the laptop with a thin cable. A round platform is mounted on a wider base, a plastic casing supporting a rod, where a camera is mounted. The machine is about 8 feet high and  5 feet wide and takes up a quarter of the room. I feel the warm breath of Chloe on my neck, as her hand slides to my sides and a gentle nudge pushes me completely into the room. A shiver runs down my spine, she turns and closes the door, locking it with a key which she leaves in the keyhole.

She then grabs my hands and takes me over to the couch, where she sets me down. Immediatly she crawls into my lap, pulling her skirt up higher, straddling me with her thighs. With her lips teasingly close to me, her eyes looking deep into mine and her pelvis leaning against mine, I am overwhelmed with the sudden rush of attention and struggle to collect my thoughts. But before I get the opportunity to say anything, her warm lips are pushed against mine in a soft, sensual kiss, exploring, hesitant, then more eager as I respond in a reflex. Her lips part and she slowly drags them over mine, wetting my lips, then the tip of her tongue slides out, licking my lips from corner to corner. Just as I open my mouth to let her tongue slip in, she pushes herself away from me, breaking the kiss, getting in front of me. Her eyes glisten and slowly she licks her lips, as if she is tasting me

“Mr Weaver, you are here to be measured for a suit. A suit you will need for the final night.
But for that..”

She pauses and takes a step back, catching the light that falls in through the window. She moves her hand up and unbuttons the single button of her top. Her hands cross in front of her stomach and she grabs the hem of her top. Slowly she pulls it up, exposing more and more of her stomach, then lifts the fabric over her breasts and lets them fall free on her chest. With a quick move, she takes the top off and throws it on the couch next to me. She lets her hands slide over her chest and body, while she keeps my eyes locked in with hers, allowing the occasional stray as she rubs her fingers over her body. Her hands slide to her back and soon her skirt is slowly sliding down her legs as she turns, black, laced stocking hug her legs, held up by a garterbelt, no panties or bra. On her high heels, wearing just her stockings and garter belt, she stands in the light and slowly turns in a circle for me.

“But to be able to get the right measurements, you need to be naked and in a fully erect state. I am here to assist you and ensure you will reach that state”

My eyes are glued to her as she slowy undresses herself and shows me her beautiful body, the smile on her face and the look in her eyes, convincing me of her eagerness to assist me. I shift in the couch, allowing my growing member more room, the bulge in my pants shifting as it stretches into the cramped room. I open my mouth and start to talk, only to find that my throat is dry and clenched, and I have to cough frst before I am able to reply. The thoughts tumbling in my head, the growing desire in my loins adding to the intense discussion forming in my head, and slowly gaining terrain. Doubting to want to continue, having never had a girl offer herself like this. But also realising that if I don’t oblige to the wishes of the IUD, I will never get to the final night, nor will I ever continue the conversation with my uncle. I clear my throat again.

“Chloe.. does that machine have anything to do with the measuring part of this appointment?”

She moves in closer, having seen the answer in my eyes. She nestles herself in my lap again, guides my hands to her hips and pushes her chest against my body. She kisses me again, this time her tongue breaking through my lips in a quick sweep, before she leans back and looks into my eyes.

“Yes mr Weaver, that machine makes a 3d scan of your body, it is very accurate. We need these accurate measurements to make your suit a tight fit. But before we can use the machine, we need to get you ready”

She starts to grind her hips, my swelling member pushing against her sex as she sat down. Slowly she rubs herself over my bulge, as she lets her lips drift along my cheek, to my ear. She kisses the lobe before she sucks it into her mouth. After a quick nibble, she lets her tongue run through the shell, her soft, warm breaths making my skin crawl, goose bumps popping up everywhere. My hands start to drift over her buttocks and sides, enticed by her eagerness, pushed on by my own growing desire. My hands follow her slow moving hips, squeezing her buttocks, pressing her tighter into me. As she feels me grow against her, she slides off my lap, a damp spot left behind on my pants. She takes my hand and pulls me off the couch, catching me in her arms, her body connecting firmly with mine. Her hands slide to me back and slide underneath my sweater, pulling my shirt out of my pants. Grabbing both, she pushes them upwards and along my arms as I raise them. Tossed on the couch next to her top, my sweater and shirt land turned inside out. Her hands eagerly slide to my front and open button and zipper of my jeans, her hand sliding into my briefs, fingers folding around my shaft, sliding down to the base.

“Take them off mr Weaver”

Her voice trembling slightly as she moves her hand in my briefs, stroking the growing shaft, the veins pulsating against her palm underneath the silky skin. I can’t help but moan as I feel her fingers grab me and take me in a tight hold. Without thinking I push my briefs and pants down, stepping carefully out of them as she looks down at my exposed cock. She takes a step back and looks at it, as if she is judging the size and the speed of twitches as blood is pumped into the chambers of the shaft. Then she steps in again, wraps her arms around my neck and pulls herself onto her toes, catching my cock between our bodies and sliding her pelvis over it. She kisses me, then lets herself down again, pulling the foreskin down, exposing the head. A few droplets of precum that collected in the eye, are smeared over her skin as she drags herself down.

Without stopping she keeps sliding down further, her lips now dragging a wet trail down over my chest and stomach, my member touching her neck first, before it slides along her jaw towards her mouth. Holding it firmly in one hand, she wets her lips before she leans in and sucks the head into her mouth. Her tongue circles around, coating it with saliva, the first taste reaching her taste buds. Slowly she pushes herself further down on my member, the tip grazing along the roof of her mouth. She looks up as she halts, my cock half way in her mouth. As she locks her eyes in with mine, she slowly moves her head down further and takes me in until her lips rest againt my pelvis. The head pushing against her throat as it grows in her mouth, the sudden suction she applies, increases the bloodflow. Within seconds I feel her throat open and close around the head in a swallowing motion as her fingers close around the base tightly, locking the blood in.

I start to breath fast, brought to a high level of lust quicker as I thought possible and look down as Chloe locks my cock in her mouth and sucks it to a full erection. Her breasts lean against my legs, her hard nipples drag intricate patterns on my skin as she slowly moves her hips in a small circle. As I follow her arm down, I see her hand between her legs, slowly rubbing her sex, dipping in, appearing wet and glistening. Slowly Chloe starts to move her head, her fingers releasing the base and grabbing my ass, fingers taking a hold as she lets it slide almost all the way out. A quick suck on the head, before she pushes herself forward and takes me into her throat in a single move, while she pulls my body into her by my butt. As soon as her lips touch my body, she pushes herself off, only to let my cock plunge into her throat again.

I feel the wet fingers of her other hand dig into my butt as she holds onto me, keeping her balance and pulling me into her mouth as she starts to move faster. Suddenly she slows down, pushes me into her mouth as far as it goes and starts to hum. The quick vibrations hit the tip of my cock, sending them amplified through my shaft and to my core, a loud grunt leaving my lips and echoing in the room. She keeps humming for as long as she can, before she slides me out and gasps for air. As soon as she caught her breath, she gets up and takes my hand, guiding me to the machine. I step onto the round platform and she pushes a button. As soon as the camera starts to rotate around me, she checks of the image is being constructed correctly. She sits up on the desk, opens her legs and exposes her sex to me. Her eyes making sure I focus on her, she starts to slide her hand over her moist lips, her finger dipping in, collecting her nectar which she rubs into her sex. She bites her bottom lip as her fingers open her sex and her wetness flows from her centre.

She presses two fingers against her lips and slowly lets them sink away into her wet sex, as she rubs her thumb up and down, exposing her clit little by little. Wetting her thumb on her lips, she rubs her nectar into her hard nub, the moans emitting from her throat, becoming louder and more urgent. I catch her looking down, at my cock as she pleasures herself for me, promising her body with her eyes, the camera teasingly slow, moving from top to bottom in dizzying circles. The movements of her hand become stronger, her hips start to move, her feet pushing her off the table, pushing against her fingers as she moves them in and out of her wet channel.

“Mr Weaver... please...”

With a sudden beep the machine comes to a standstill and Chloe leans up, stretching out her arm, her hand open. With greed I get off the platform and walk to the desk, my eyes fixed on the hand that now rapidly moves over her sex, fingers pushing in deep, nectar drawn out and coating her inner thighs. I step in between her legs and immediatly she grabs my cock with her wet fingers and guides it to her entrance. The head slips in between the open, slick lips and I press it against her entrance, feeling her heat wash over me, feeding my lust. I grab her hips and push, sliding my shaft into her wet channel with ease, her channel dripping wet, lubricating the slide. I cry out as I enter her, feeling her tighten around me as our pelvisses meet.

Burried deep inside of her, I hold still, letting the sensations of her body wrapped around me, sink in. Lust now roaring in my core, pushing away the last conscious thoughts that linger, claiming priority and taking over my body bit by bit. My back arches, slowly sliding out, hands sliding up her legs, nestling in the hollows of her knees, slowly pushing them back to her chest, spreading them wide open. On the edge of the desk, her body meets mine as I push back into her, the thrust urgent, hard and deep, a wet, slapping sound heard as our bodies collide. My need for her allows no pauses and I pull back, only to pound back into her, the bottled up sexual energy finally finding its way out. Chloe lays back, her eyes closed, her fingers stretched out on the desk as I take her. Each punch into her accompanied with a load moan, her voice urgent and demanding, consumed by her own need*

“Take me mr Weaver... Oh yess... Harder... Make me cum..”

Her hips rock, our motions in sync, meeting me with each thrust, her breasts flailing on her chest with each impact. She grab her own legs and holds them wide open, allowing me to grab her hips and hold her, fingers digging deep into her soft flesh. The flow of her nectar heavy, the juices splattered over our inner thighs and pelivsses, the smell of sex filling the room, the palette of her scent sweet, layered, intricate, intoxicating. My body now fully controlled by pure lust, moving in a mechanic rhythm back and forth into her, each push bringing me closer to the brink or orgasm. My moans turn into grunts, setting the pace for our clashing bodies, then turning silent as I feel her suddenly tense up in my hands. Her sex starts to convulse and her eyes roll back, her mouth wide open, screaming a silent, orgasmic scream.

Her orgasm unleashes a gush of her juices, coating my shaft in heat, nudging me over the edge of the threshold of pleasure and as white light blinds my eyes, I cry out her name in a primal scream. My body starts to jerk and shock as I push myself as hard and far inside her as I can, jetting my semen into her spasming channel, the jerks and twitches of my shaft mixing our juices together. My body starts to tremble as I feel the energy drain from my legs and I lean on top of Chloe, her legs fallen back to her feet, limp, her chest heaving as she slowly starts to settle down from the eruption inside her mind and body. I kiss her, one, twice, then feel her answer, our lips connecting tighter, tongues starting to move in a slow and sensual dance. I slide my hands underneath her body and slowly lift her off the desk, taking the few steps to the couch and resting her on my lap.

She leans her head back and looks at me in a gaze, flashing her eyelashes a few times before she focuses and a smile starts to curl her warm, welcoming mouth. She slides her arms around my neck and nestles herself against my chest with a satisfied sigh, leaning her head against my neck and shoulder. Her fingers play with my hair, her body warm, aftershocks making her tremble from time to time. Without exchanging a word, we both share the warm sense of satisfaction, after a very passionate encounter. But after a few minutes, she slides off my lap, collects her skirt and top and quickly dresses herself. She hands me my pants, folds the shirt and sweater outside in again and gives them to me.

“You can shower when you get home, mr Weaver. I want you to smell me on you, at least until then..”

“I gather we are done Chloe? What will happen next? Will I see you again? Aren’t you the chosen girl?”

Slowly I slip into my briefs, the skin of my lower body already getting sticky from our mixed juices. My shirt and jeans follow, the sweater kept in my hands as I walk over to the desk. Chloe is looking at the 3d image and checks it for mistakes, before she saves the image and closes the laptop. She smiles, kisses my lips quickly, before she gets off from the chair and walks to the door. I put on my sweater and get my jacket and walk to the door as well.

“I am sorry sir, I can’t tell you what will happen next, I don’t know. All I can tell, is that you will get the instructions on time. But for now, your quest can move to the next stage. This one was very succesful”

She giggles, her cheeks blushing, matching the color she had during sex. She unlocks the door and opens it, lets me walk through and pushes her body against me again, dragging her chest along mine. I walk down the stairs and wait for her at the door to the store, letting her open it and step out after her. She accompanies me to the door to the street, staying close to me, her arm constantly brushing against mine. At the door she extends her hand and shakes mine, her fingers lingering just too long before releasing.

“Goodbye mr Weaver, I hope your visit with Domenico Vacca was satisfactory”

“Very much so ms Chloe, I hope to return here again and enjoy your hospitality”

Without looking back, I leave the store, cross the street and head off towards the subway station, a little spring in my step, my lips pouted as I whistle a tune.

“Always look on the bright side of life..”

***

With firm steps she almost marches back to the hotel, the time spent at the seaside spent on debating. A heart-mind battle that nearly got out of hand, people looking at her wearily as she cursed the waves, projecting herself on the foamy heads. Her heart tells her to take the chance, to be with this man that has been in her dreams, and is gaining more and more access to her heart. Her mind, and all the ingrained patterns screaming her not to, dumping huge blocks of reinforced concrete on top of the defenses she spent years perfecting, making them inpenetrable in a quick pace. She will have to betray either one of them, whatever she decides. And the battle is in deadlock. She slips her hand in her pocket and finds a coin. She takes it out, looks at it for a few seconds, then carefully places it on her index finger.

“Heads for yes, tails for no”

‘Please let it be heads, please let it be heads, please...’ She repeats the mantra in her head as the coin tumbles through the air, her hand waiting, palm open, catching it and her fingers closing around it. She takes the coin and quickly places it on top of her other hand, the reluctantly looks down. It’s...

***

Hesitantly she opens her hand a little, peaks inside then lifts her hand up completely, the sun catching the coin on the top of her hand, the light hitting the embossed letters and symbols. ‘Heads..’. She almost cries out in her happiness and then is hit by the unavoidable consequences. She will be his during the final night. He wanted her. ‘But how.. ‘. Slowly some of the pieces start to fall into place, but a lot of questions remain as she opens the door and walks back into the breakfast room of the hotel. Her boss is still there, leaning back in his chair and stroking his white goatee. With her heart beating in her chest, she walks back up to the table and sits down again in front of him.

“You’ll have to go to London Ella”

“I have so many questions, sir”

Is her answer that obvious? As she sits down, the eyes of her boss interlock with hers and a smile starts to curl his lips, his look warm and welcoming. Her stomach slowly starts settle down, a flock of butterflies flapping wings, making her almost nauseous. He takes her hands in his, the warmth of his palms drying the cold sheen of sweat that formed on hers. His smile and the simple touch of his hands set her mind at ease, the decision she made strengthened, with the confirmation in his eyes.

“I will answer them all in the car. We have to go right away. You will need a suit for the final night, and D.V. needs 3 weeks. Time is pressed. So pack a small bag, you will be back here in 2 days”

“But sir, the work on the booth? Who will take over?”

“Klaus told me you are 4 days ahead of schedule. And I imagine you would want to spend your time, preparing for your own night. Am I wrong?”

“No sir. I’ll go pack right away”

Her cheeks blush as he hits a soft spot. How could she let someone else prepare the control room, check the smallest details of the planned night? No, this project is hers, now more than ever. As she walks up the stairs to her room, her mind is filled with his eyes, suddenly appearing, drawing her attention away. As in a dream she packs a small bag, looks around her room to check if she has forgotten anything, then turns and walks back down. Her boss is already waiting at the backdoor that leads to the parking lot behind the hotel. He holds the door open for her and lets her step out, the day seemingly brighter as an hour before. With a little spring in her step, she walks to the car and takes her seat on the left side of the Aston Martin DB9. The luxurous interior overwhelms a little and without saying a word, she’s driven off. The rural country side of west-Anglia slips by in endless fields of wheat, then after a few hours, trees start to appear and soon they whiz through forests and over hillsides.

“Sir, how did he find me? I don’t understand.. He asked for the girl in zebra socks, how did you know it was me?”

“Actually, how he found out is forcing me to change protocol on the approach of the location for any event, by our operatives. Daniel was having coffee at the coffeeshop across the street and saw you enter the theatre. He was early”

“I am so sorry sir. I thought I went in there unseen. It never crossed my mind that he might already be there. So next time all operatives should be at location as soon as possible? This just has never happened before. The same as him staying behind after the Choice was finished”

She wriggles her hands in her laps as she looks to her right, the face of her boss adorned with a serious frown, concentrated on traffic as they speed along the M1. He looks at her for a second, his face softening and smiling, a tingle in his eyes she has never seen before. He seems very content with her answer, and now that her decision is made, it feels better and better. For a moment she lets her thoughts drift off to Daniel. She realises it is the first time she thought of his first name, instead of thinking in terms of targets and mr Weaver. It makes her blush again and to divert her attention away, she looks at her watch. It’s around 5 pm and suddenly she feels a rush of desire fill her core. Within the blink of an eye, her body is set on fire and her nipples harden, her core warm and moist. Caught by surprise, she represses the thoughts of his naked body furiously moving between her legs, and represses the rush of desire filling her veins. Her voice a whimper as she speaks.

“When I met him at the coffeeshop...”

“Yes, I am not sure what you said or did in there, but you appareantly captured him. He was very determined when he said he wanted you for the final night. He is a very smart man and he exceeded my expectations. And appareantly he shares the same taste for coffee with the girl in zebra socks”

“Sir, I didn’t do anything. We didn’t speak, we just looked at eachother. And then I left..”

“There must have been something in your eyes that put him under your spell. Ella..”

Suddenly the car swirfs to the left and exits to a parking area on the highway. Parked at the furthest spot from the other cars, he shuts the car down, unbuckles his seat and turns himself to her, taking her hand in his again.

“This whole mystery we have built around Daniel, has a purpose, different from all other Final Nights we have organised. It is not about pampered boys and girls being treated to a mind blowing, sexual escapade. This time the future of the IUD depends on it”

“What do you mean sir?”

She raises her eyebrows and looks at him curiously. She noticed the elaborate plans, was surprised but also intrigued by the set up. From the start she felt there was a deeper layer  beneath the usual reason for a Final Night. When she studied the picture of the target for the first time, she noticed a familiarity with the appearance of her boss, that she could not designate to satisfaction. There were similarities, the eyes, the nose, the chin. But that is where the similarity ended. Still, this was not a spoiled young man that needed to seed his oats a last time before settling down and starting a family. This plan betrayed a much bigger goal.

“I am getting old, Ella. And within the ranks of the IUD, there is noone that can take over the company and lead it on succesfully. I have monitored my nephew for years, his path of education, his career has been partially directed by me. I have seen the capabilities in him and tried to create the circumstances for them to flourish”

“Does he know all of this, sir?”

“Yes, he put all the pieces together and confronted me with it. Though he doesn’t know the details yet, neither of the Final Night or the full scope of the IUD, he has an idea of the purpose and goal of this Final Night, and what the IUD does. He guessed I am looking for a successor.”

“Sir, what will happen to me after this? Will I still have a job at IUD? If he is going to be the new CEO of  IUD, wouldn’t it be awkward for me to work there? Normally the Target never sees the partner for that night ever again”

“That is not completely true, Ella. 3 Targets actually married their partner..”

Amazed she looks at him, her eyes wide open, her hands in her lap. Her fingers are entangled and the tight squeeze makes her knuckles white. The rules of the handbook imprinted in her mind, she rereads article 24.3 in her mind.

‘No Target shall meet his partner of the Final Night again, cases of force majeur excluded’

There seems to be no end to the layers of secrecy surrounding the IUD. A plan in a plan in a plan, and appareantly she has had access to only the top layers. What else is hidden behind this whole proposition, his request to have her for the final night? Is there more? More layers to be unvaled? If she’s ever going to discover all. ‘Marriage... why did he say that?’

“Hidden from everyone’s view, a computer program collects the biological data from the ones in the booth on the final night. The information the body suits give me, is compared, matched and occasionally an exceptional result is presented. Sometimes the partners connect so well together, a match is made that promises a positive future outside of the booth as well. In all 3 cases, both the partner and the Target moved heaven and earth to get in touch again and requested the details of the other. Only in the cases where a 100% match was made, the partners were reunited. And in all 3 cases, it led to marriage. The first couple was matched 20 years ago, and they are still together”

“Sir... why do you allow me to be there, for him? It is against all regulations”

“It is Ella, but I have a feeling there might be a perfect match again. I have seen his eyes when he requested you and I have seen yours when you speak of him.”

She turns away from him, overwhelmed with the notion, silently staring in the distance as her boss starts the car and drives off again, another 80 miles to go before reaching London. As the panorama outside the windows slowly changes, more and more buildings appearing, the countryside changing to city outskirts, she gazes without seeing, her mind drifted off. When she closes her eyes and imagines his face, she feels transluscent threads form, connecting her with him. The more she concentrates on those threads, the closer she feels him with her. She senses the tension in her body disappearing. Slowly the walls of her defense start to crumble as she submits to the warmth those threads emit. In her thoughts, she reaches for the threads and wraps them around herself, intensifying the connection, opening her heart little by little, letting a droplet of his being trickle inside. But before she can absorb his essence in her being, the car suddenly stops. When she looks outside, she finds the car in front of Harrods, the mega store in the centre of London. With question marks written on her forehead, she looks at her boss.

“Why are we here, sir?”

“Domenico Vacca is inside, we have an appointment. We have to hurry, someone is waitng for us.”

He gets out and hands the keys to a formally dressed doorkeeper. Then he walks around and opens the door on Ella’s side and offers her his hand. She slips her fingers into his and leans on him as she gets out of the car. As she steps in besides him, he slides her hand up his arm and walks towards the entrance. They go up two floors and in the back she sees the name and the designs from the italian designer. As they reach the desk, a young man greets them enthousiasticly.

“Mr Liska, what a pleasure to see you again! Everything is prepared for the measuring and as I understand, we have not a minute to loose. Would you please follow me?”

He opens a door to the back and leads them through a corridor to another door. As they step into the room, a small desk and the same bodyscanner as in the store in New York, are filling most of the available space. Only a screen is placed in a corner, partially hiding a chair and some clothing hangers. Ella looks around, the machine all too familar, being partially resposible for designing and programming it. She smiles as she sees the two men walk towards the laptop and start to run the programs needed. She clears her throat first, before she speaks, placing her feet both firmly on the ground, her hands placed in her sides.

“Gentlemen, I understand your dedication to the task ahead, but I think I am more familiar with the machine as you, and I would like some privacy”

“Ella, I know you can operate the machine better as anyone else, but maybe it is better if Brendan would operate the machine. I don’t want any mistakes.”

“Sir, as you said yourself, noone would be more dedicated to make this night special, as me. I will be fine and quicker as anyone else. I would feel much more comfortable”

“Well, in that case.. Brendan, let’s leave the lady alone.”

Her boss extends his arm and grabs the young clerk by his shoulder, having to almost tear him away, his eyes fixed on the face and body of the young woman. Reluctantly he walks ahead of her boss out of the room, casting blatant looks of desire over his shoulder. She chuckles, knowing all too well how a measuring is conducted. When a girl picked at the Choice is sent for a measuring, the same procedure as with a Target is followed. The girl is brought to a maximum level of excitement before the image is made. Though all girls are informed ahead this is not a requirement, they gladly go along with the procedure. They are selected for their sexual desire after all. But for the suit to fit like a second skin, they don’t need to be excited. She slides behind the laptop and checks the progress of the program. All indicators are green, the machine ready to go. She walks to the screen and starts to undress herself. Though she’s alone in the room, a sense of embarrassement shoots through her mind. Carefully she hangs her clothes on the hangers, leaving her silk, laced panties on the chair before she steps from behind the screen naked.

She walks to the laptop, enters the delayed command and gets up on the platform. She closes her eyes as she tries to relax as much as possible, letting her mind drift to the Target, Daniel. The soft buzz of the servo motors moving the camera keep her connected with the present, as she dives deep into his eyes, feels the transluscent threads of energy capsulate her and warm her through and through. The longer she emerges herself, the more layers are built up in her core, her desire slowly awakening, embers softly glowing, waiting for a brisk breeze to flare up and burn brightly. Before she is ready to let go of her daydream, the buzzing stops and the drawer of the dvd-recorder slides open. With a deep sigh, she releases his eyes and steps off the platform, checks the image and saves it. Then she walks back to the screen and dresses herself, feeling a warm glow of excitement in her core, as she adjusts her panties.

Dressed and with a blush on her face, she closes the laptop, turns off the scanner and slides the dvd in a cover. With the shiny disc in her hand, she walks through the door, along the corridor and knocks before she opens the door to the store. The two men are waiting at the counter, the clerk behind it, her boss in front, chatting away. Two heads turn towards her, the young man’s face with a disappointed look in his eyes as he looks her over. Her boss smiles, walks up to her and takes the dvd from her extended hand.

“I will take care of this personally, Ella. There is no need for anyone besides the tailor to know your exact dimensions”

“Thank you sir, I think some would be all to eager to see what I look like underneath”

She casts a disapproving look at the young clerk, who’s face has turned red, caught with his evident want for her. They walk off, leaving the young clerk embarrassed behind, but not after he made a phonecall, anouncing their leave. As they exit the large store, the doorkeeper is waiting with the door of the car open. They get in and set off for the short drive to the Dorchester Hotel. It takes them only 10 minutes to get to the hotel, the distance short but traffic dense. After checking in, they are brought to two connecting suits, and as she enters hers, she is stunned with amazement. She knew the IUD had money, but that they had this kind of money to spend, astonishes her. She walks into the room and lets her hands slide over the soft cover of the bed, admiring the room in boutique style. The bathroom is lined with white marble tiles, streaked with grey veins and the large bath looks particularly inviting, but before she can decide to fill it up, there is a knock on the door.

“Ella, we have reservations at ‘Alain Ducasse´, we need to eat. Or at least I do”

“Ofcourse sir, just give me a few minutes to put something on”

Quickly she throws her small suitcase on the bed and takes out the small, black dress. It has always been one of her favorites, the soft velvet structure, with the intricate vine pattern, opening up the fabric, her skin shining through. Quickly she takes off her pants and top, and puts on the dress. Changing her shoes, a dab of perfume and a quick look in the mirror. The blush fuelled by her inner excitement looks good on her, no need for additional make up. She walks towards the door and exits, looking to her left to find her boss patiently waiting on a small sofa in the corridor. Immediatly he stands up, buttons up his jacket and slides his hands over the small creases, before offering his arm to her.

“You look beautiful Ella, you make me a proud man”

“Thank you sir.”

“Tomorrow we will go into London for a few more necessities for the Final Night, but tonight it’s dinner and to bed”

She blushes as she lets her arm slip into his, feeling him holding her tightly as he clenches his arm to his body. They walk to the elevator and take a few floors down, arriving at the french restaurant where they are galantly brought to their table. After a small, but delicious dinner, she returns to her suite, while her boss settles at the bar. When she wakes up in the middle of the night, the room chilly, her sheets kicked down her body, she gets up to close the window. As she grabs the handle of the window, she suddenly hears muffled sounds from the room next to hers, a woman panting, her voice hoarse as she asks for more. With her cheeks turning bright red again, she closes the window and the sounds of sex die away. When she slides into bed again and curls up on her side, the only way she can replace the images of her boss that she unwillingly formed in her mind, is to drown herself again in the eyes of Daniel, the man she will give herself to, on the Final Night.

***

The last two weeks have been dragging along. Every day seemed like an eternity, and even with hindsight they feel long. Nothing happened after the measuring. I took a long shower after coming home, the scent of Chloe drifting up into my nose with each step on the way back, her sweet scent now embedded in my mind and for a few days she haunted my dreams. But each time I felt her wrapped around me, making passionate love to me, her eyes were not hers. Her eyes were those of the girl in zebra socks, demanding my attention. I’ve heard nothing from my uncle, and seeing Chloe during the measuring, didn’t give my faith firm ground to root in. Except that first night, the night after being with Chloe. I dreamt that transluscent threads were wrapping around me, connecting me, tying me to her. I could see her eyes in the background, warm, loving, lustful. And I was unable to defend myself from those glowing threads of energy. As they wove an intricate web of loops and knots around me, I felt my aversion lifted of me and a single thread made a connection to my heart. But before it could blend in with my being, I woke up, covered in sweat, her eyes still fixated on me in my mind.

The silence has been killing, and even this morning it seems worse. There is only one week left before the final night, today is the 14th of june. Thursdays used to be reserved for my uncle, at least one a fortnight. He’d expect me at 8 pm, on the porch behind his house. The whiskey would be waiting, the glasses empty, waiting for that solemn moment, when he would pour the whiskey, two fingers high, into two heavy crystal glasses. Silence as we swirved the liquid, smelled it and with closed eyes sipped. He taught me to savour the taste, breathe in through my nose to peel away layer by layer, roll it over my taste buds and against my palate. Take my time to discover the intense taste and smell of the whiskey. On occasion he would test my memory, make me close my eyes and guess the brand.

The Final Night is on a thursday as well. Maybe that is significant to my uncle. Nothing in this mystery is coincidental, happens by accident. Every event, date, place and time are carefully planned. It has taken years to plan this plot, have acces to the buildings, recruite the right people. Was the girl selected for that purpose? Was she meant to meet me? My gut feeling tells me this was the only unplanned situation and it has made the plan more complicated. Though it is easy to follow the conspiracy theory that formed in my mind, I chose to stick with my gut. This was an accident but maybe on another level intended. I smirk, for a Final Night, they sure picked a nice one. The shortest one in the year. So there must be a different reason for the date. And the place... The lighthouse is built on an Island. On the maps it shows the setting sun will be be over England, not the ocean. But the sunset will be over the ocean and that promises a spectacular sight. Maybe that is the reason for the location.

But the summer solstice has a lot of rituals surrounding it, and I decide to get into the study and start a search. After a few articles, I find a ritual that was held on the summer solstice. At the end of the day fires are lit, and eligable young men and women bathed naked in the water. Around midnight, the girls would leave the water and disappear singing in the woods, after which the young men would follow. If they looked carefully, they would find ‘the flower of the fern’, and that would give the gift of life. Nevertheless, if the young man would reappear from the woods with a flower ring on his head, the young woman now engaged.

There is also a large article about a cultural festival in Poland, but I discard it. The connection between the lighthouse in the UK and a festival in Poland seems unlikely. Besides that, my uncle has always held strongly to tradition. Rituals are as important to him as eating and drinking and his life is filled with them. One of the most appareant is how he strokes his goatee. A ritualised soothing gesture that evolved into a tic. If anything, the slow moving fingers over his beard, when he considers his words, characterises him more as anything. So the pagan ritual suits the occasion. This does point towards marriage though, the man and woman disapearing in the woods, consuming their love and reappearing bound. The man wearing a ring of flowers around his head. Bound to his woman. flashbacks of my dream shoot through my head and drifting off, I see myself leave the trees, a wreath of flowers on my head, dragging behind are transluscent threads of energy that are connected to the heart and face of my girl. The girl in zebra socks, her brown eyes sparkling in bliss.

***

She gets out of the car and walks across the causeway to the lighthouse. The whole island has now been enclosed with 9 feet high fences, covered with black plastic. Even the proud tower has been taken from view by scaffolding covered with the same black plastic. A square silhouette protruding from a squared black box. As she walks up to the gate that blocks the access to the island, she whistles on her fingers and the gate is opened immediatly. She’s welcomed by the grin of Klaus who has been working twice as hard since he heard that Ella would be using the booth on the Final Night. As she steps through the gate and follows the narrow corridor towards the smalls square in front of the lighthouse, she smiles proud.

The whole setting has had a metamorphosis. The corridor feels like wheat field, the oars thick and yellow, and with the windmachine, they will be swaying in the breeze. She follows the dirt path to the square and lets her eyes slide along the new exterior of the lighthouse. The outside of the lighthouse has transdormed into the trunk of an enormeous tree, vines and creepers curling around and upwards. The entrance has turned into the hollow of a tree, a grass lawn laid out up to the water, a stone staircase built to access the water easily. A path is laid out in large, flat boulders, leading from the water to the entrance of the tree. As she steps inside, the metal staircase has been transformed to cracks and footholds ‘naturally formed’ by the tree, the inside lit by a laser technique, resembling fireflies.

Slowly she walks the stairs and steps through the small door at the top of the tower. As she steps inside the booth, the entrance seemless molten in with the new wall padding, the videocarpet is showing snow, the intensity of the screens making her raise her arm in front of her eyes. Klaus has been one step behind her, glued to her since he got the news, whenever she is at the site. He hands her a pair of glasses and quickly she puts them on, the intense radiation from the screens lining the walls and ceiling of the booth, dimmed to an acceptible level.

“We are in testing stage laready Ella, just a few more bugs to solve and we can do a testrun soon”

“Any idea when Klaus? And I’d love an answer in hours, not days”

Her days are packed. Besides the intense programming of the booth, creating the right environment, connecting to the scent machines, the climat control and the 3d imaging software, she also received a large document, explaining her role and the complete walk through of the evening. She has to know the ritual by heart as she will be his guide for that evening. At least until they hit the bed. She giggles secretly, the want to surrender to his strong arms and his sex drive has given her chills each time she imagined it. But the script contains the full explanation of the ritual, the songs she is supposed to sing and where to be when. After a full 10 hours of programming, checking connections and cables, and advising Klaus on cosmetic issues, she spends another 4 hours per day in studying for her role.

Mr Liska took immediate action after they woke up the next morning in London. Though there was no sign on his face of his sexual escapage that night, there seemed to be a satisfied expression on his face. After breakfast, he took her to a few clothing stores, the dress and lingerie picked out for the first part of the evening, up until the bathing. From that moment on, she would be naked for a while, until she would disappear in the ‘woods’. There she would be helped into the special suit of the IUD, which would be ready just in time. He also arranged a dance teacher to stay in Whitley Bay for 2 weeks, to teach her the dances and how to move graciously. The day before the final night, she would go to a spa, a few miles away and be prepared for that night.

She will spend the night there and a car will pick her up an hour before his arrival. She will be dressed at the spa, and a hairdresser and make up artist will be present to make her look as attractive as possible. When she looked at herself wearing the dress, she felt light, a nymph in a fairytale forest, waiting for a prince to enchant him and make him hers. Again she giggles as she feels the stare of Klaus on her face. A blush creeps up and colours her cheeks and she quickly turns and leaves the booth. Slowly she walks down the stairs, careful not to fall or to damage anything. Klaus follows her down and takes her glasses back from her.

“Let me know when the crseens are up and running Klaus, I’d like to start the first streams as soon as possible. I have a few things to check and can only do that with the screens up and someone in the room”

“Ofcourse Ella, I think we will be done about 4-5 hours. I’ll let you know as soon as we have finished”

“Thanks Klaus, and I have to say, this place looks amazing. You have outdone yourself”

“Especially for you Ella”

She walks into the control room and starts checking the screen and panels, most of the settings done. Then she sits down behind her lapptop, on her trusted chair and starts to run the environment for the booth in her 3d viewer. This is what she has worked the hardest on. The effects she’s added to the scenic view, are new and have never been tested. She started developing them a few months ago, after waking up in the middle of the the night. The other dream, in which she was connected with Daniel, is now made alive in the 3d world she created. The transluscent threads now flow like water and she even managed to finish ‘the flower of the Fern’, as a special feature for the scene and the background story.

She takes the small box from the desk and opens it. The contact lenses inside bounce off the light in their arched srface, coating them with a pearly sheen. She takes them carefully from their containers and places them one by one in her eyes. She blinks and waits a few seconds, the electric impulses of her body charging the lenses while her eyes get used to them. After blinking a few times, she sees the slightly distorted view, familiar to the charging of the lensen. Within a few seconds, her view is cleared again and she presses enter on her keyboard. Immediatly she is transported into the 3d world, her view filled with the environment she created herself.

She moves forward, the nano sensors in the lenses picking the thought in her brains, making the landscape move in any directions. Though disconnected in this feature, she could also fly if she wanted. As she moves through the artificial forest, she cheks every tree and plant for imperfections, finds the pool and the soft bed of flowers and grass that she created at the right place. Though she can’t perform actions in the environment, with a touch of her fingers on her laptop and she picks the flower of the fern, checking the animated scene that follows next. She notices a slight slight flicker near the end of the scene and ends the simulation. With the touch of a finger, the lenses are shut down and the 3d world disappears immediatly, leaving her slightly disorented in the room. She leans forward and takes the lenses out, pulling on the corner of her eye and blnking. Carefully she places them back in the box and puts it back in its place. Then she leans over and start working on the code of the scene.

***

I walk back into the kitchen, letting the ritual of the summer solstice sink in. The celebration of the joining of a man and woman. The moon coated with honey, one of the clues comes to mind immediatly. There is a deeper layer to that picture as well. The more I find out, the more the depths and layers of the clues and events are shown. Deep in thoughts I press the button of the coffee machine and let my mug fill with the dark brown, liquid. I add sugar after I rolled a cigarette and light up, after a sip of coffee. Suddenly I hear a phone buzz in the study, the sounds soft, only just audible. I walk back at ease but when I step inside, I see it is the mystery phone. I slam my mug on the tabel and with my cigarette between my lips I grab the phone. But I have to pu it away as smoke gets in my eye and makes me tear. When I finally have cleared my vision, I open the texted message.

First thoughts ...

"A silver bird in the sky, flying towards the burning eye"

Ok,  I think this is an aeroplane flying towards the sun

"A flight along only allowed, when holding the righteous slip"

I think this is a private flight for persons chosen or holding the correct aeroplane ticket .

"A stream turns a wheel, pulp pressed into a canvass ink"

This sounds like a mill, with a water wheel, possibly a paper mill

" Where a community lives in steads along the glistening flow of molten snow"

Ok, I'm thinking a small town or village , that lives or has built up on an old lava flow from a volcano that is now covered in snow .. and maybe melting in the summer sun...   I'm thinking   Iceland   here  ..  the country has snow and active volcanoes  and is overseas above Scotland, and therefore a flight is required.

  ...    Am I on the right track Tight?

You are getting good at this Brandy, or you are getting too understand my way of thinking.. brrrrr

6 out of 8 lines you interpreted correctly. The name of the place is embedded in the last two lines.. It's dead easy...

" The name of the place is embedded in the last 2 lines .... "

Where a community lives in steads
along the glistening flow of molten snow

mmmm  stuck here ....   need some help and brain storming folks ....  help  lol

Tight... "it's dead easy..." is that a hint too? Though I don't know the connection between a graveyard and a paper mill.

No, dead easy is not a hint, though it is in a way... Look for the simple solution... often what is right in front of you, isn't seen...

LOL... ok, the name is hidden inside...it's literally Brandy

"Where  a community lives in steads"   =   Town or village ?
" Along the glistening flow of molton snow"   = Water or river ?

mmm a town on water ....  I initially thought Venice ...  but  couldnt find a connection to the summer solstise

Is the town we are looking for connected to solstice traditions and is on a river or water or the sea?

the words needed for the solution are mentioned twice in this post:

"Where  a community lives in steads"   =   Town or village ?
" Along the glistening flow of molton snow"   = Water or river ?

mmm a town on water ....  I initially thought Venice ...  but  couldnt find a connection to the summer solstise

Is the town we are looking for connected to solstice traditions and is on a river or water or the sea?

The town has no connection with solstice tradition as far as I know. Yes, it is a town and yes it is located on a river. The answer to the riddle is a specific location. One more hint: it is within the same state...

@Brandy Your efforts to delay me, have failed. I have finished the story and I am eager to post..  The next 10 days will be spent on writing my entry for the contest...

Damm   LMAO ... You saw through me ... and I thought I was doing so well ....  If only I could delay you for another 2 weeks .... you would have to  disqualify yourself from the contest .....  rubbing my hands with a wicked glint in my eye .... maybe there is still time ... hehehehe ...

mmm  we have counties not states mmmm   guess i need to look at Google maps ... water town ....  got work to do ... see ya laters 

Well that didnt work .... no Water Town or anything similar I can find in NE26 where St Marys Lighthouse is .... mmm ... I need another clue or brain storming with other players