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Authors: Fyn Alexander

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was supposed to appear before an in-camera tribunal. He was a scientist who blew

the whistle on a pharmaceutical company that has been selling out-of-date drugs to

be distributed in the third world. He demanded a big fee, which he is getting in

payments, and then he managed to slip his minders.”

“Why would he do that if he"s getting what he wants?”

“Because he has an addiction and he couldn"t control himself.”

“We all do. What"s his?” Kael asked.

Distaste crossed Conran"s face, thinning his mouth into a sneer. “Young girls.

He"s being supplied by a man from Poland, Jarogniew Dudek, who has an extensive

network of houses throughout Europe where he imprisons women, trafficked mostly

from Eastern Europe but other places too—African countries and the Philippines.

He deals mostly in sex slaves but also in male slaves for diamond mines and so on.

We are fairly certain Clement is in a house outside Paris belonging to Dudek. Look

at the next sheet.”

It was the layout of a large, walled house. Kael quickly scanned and

memorized it.

“If he isn"t there, then I„ll give you the locations of Dudek"s other houses, but

intelligence says he is. You"ll be responsible for locating Clement and bringing him

back here alive. Do not kill him.”

Kael looked across the park at the tourists and the mothers with children. A

whole world lived happily on the surface, and underneath ran a river of sewerage in

which young women and sometimes children were sold for sex and innocent people

died from drugs they thought would help them.

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Fyn Alexander

He handed the file back to Conran. “When do I leave?” The old excitement rose

up. Life felt right again.

“This evening. You"ll drive to France via the Chunnel, and once there you"ll

meet your backup. Actually it"s more of a learning experience for the other operative

than genuine backup.”

The memory of Misha leading him on his first hit came back. He looked at

Conran. “I work best alone, and I don"t babysit.”

“Think of it as a teaching job. And you do everything best alone,” Conran said.

“Sex is always more fun with someone else,” he said. “Speaking of which. Do

you still want a spanking from big bad Saunders?” He chuckled.

Conran nodded, looking around. “Does Angel have to be there like last time?”

“He"s at college. But I told him you wanted to serve me in the dungeon again,

and he"s good with it.”

“Why are you doing this for me? You don"t need me for anything like last time.”

“I"m grateful to you,” Kael said. And he meant it. “You set me back on track.

You made me realize I"m not like ordinary men and there is a place in the world for

a killer like me.” He stood up. “Meet me at my place at one o"clock. If you"re even a

minute late, don"t bother to knock.” He looked down at the man whose hands had

begun to shake. Conran licked his upper lip, a gesture he always did unconsciously

when he was nervous. “Understood?”

Conran looked up, meeting his eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

* * *

“I won"t fuck you, at least not with my cock, not now I"ve got my boy.” Kael

strode into the dungeon.

Conran gazed at him in silence, his mouth dropping open. After letting him in,

Kael had ordered him to go into the dungeon and strip. In the bedroom, Kael had

pulled on a leather G-string and a pair of leather chaps, followed by knee-high

leather boots with spurs. A studded leather harness and Muir cap completed the

picture of the dominant leather master. The entire gestalt threw Conran into a

tailspin of fear and excitement. His cock rose and spurted a thin stream of cum.

Gasping, he knew he was in trouble and dropped to his knees to crawl toward

Kael. “Forgive me, forgive me, Sir,” he begged.

Feeling far more magnanimous than the last time the man was in his

dungeon, Kael looked down at him. “I forgive you, boy. I tend to have that effect on

a sub.”

Conran sat back on his heels, looking up at him, clearly gauging his expression

to see if he meant it. “Thank you, Sir.”

From Kael"s great height, Conran looked very small and fragile kneeling naked

on the floor at his feet. Conran lowered his chest to the floor and wrapped his arms

around Kael"s feet, fervently kissing the toes of his shiny leather boots. Kael

remained still, watching him.

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

77

“Sit up and stay there.”

Kael strode over to the shelves where he kept his supplies and instruments of

pleasure. Enough cock rings to open a shop were laid out. He loved cock rings and

had often worn one to keep himself in check when he was out in the clubs and to

keep his cock hard for a long night.

Leather was always a good choice, but metal had the weight to make a boy like

Conran feel secure. He chose a nice thick, heavy ring and rolled it in his palm.

Lovely
. Keeping it hidden in his hand, he walked back to where Conran knelt,

watching him intently.

“Stand up!” Conran got up quickly. “Hands behind your head.” Conran obeyed.

Leaning forward, Kael grabbed the small cock and drew it through the smooth, cold,

heavy cock ring, satisfied at how snugly it sat against the hilt of the man"s shaft.

“Nice.” Kael smiled.

The man stood awkwardly, breathing heavily, his cock jutting straight out.

“Turn around,” Kael ordered and marched Conran over to a large mirror on

the wall.

Stunned to see himself naked with the cock ring on, Conran began to breathe

heavily. “The mirror wasn"t there last time.”

“No, Stephen. It"s another dimension I added to help my slaves enjoy

themselves. Look at yourself. I own you. Now remain there and don"t move.”

The humbler was an ingenious device he had bought some time ago but had

not yet tried out on Angel. He probably would at some point, but he wanted Angel to

develop strength and self-assurance from his submission. He had no desire to have

his boy crave humiliation as a way to achieve sexual release, which was what

Conran wanted and needed. Humiliation and pain. Lots of boys wanted it, and there

was nothing wrong with that. It was a harmless enough fetish. But it wasn"t for his

boy. He took the device down from the shelf.

“Get on the floor,” Kael said.

The words brought Conran scrambling onto his knees, his buttocks in the air,

his shoulders on the floor.

“Hands behind your back and sit up on your heels. Look at me. Stephen, I

know you like to humble yourself before your master, so I am going to help you be

especially humble today.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

As if he held the answer to all Conran"s prayers, Kael raised the humbler in

both hands. “This is an instrument of discipline that will make you the boy you

want to be. One who is obedient and who knows his place in the world. Because

right now, Stephen, these four walls are your whole world and I am the master of

it.”

“Yes, Sir.”

78

Fyn Alexander

Getting down one knee, Kael smiled. “Come here, boy; come here and turn

around. Politely present your arse to me.” If Conran had possessed a tail, he would

have wagged it as he scurried on hands and knees toward his master and turned

around.

While Conran waited expectantly, Kael began to explain. “This simple device

will be positioned behind your thighs. And this curved part will open and trap your

balls behind you. Then it will be locked in place.”

Conran swallowed, his eyes bright with excitement. “Yes, Master.”

Kael positioned the curved wooden device behind Conran"s thighs, just below

the buttocks. He opened it, grabbed Conran"s ball sac, and closed the device,

trapping his balls and stretching them away from his body. Kael tightened the

screws until the tension made the ball sac bulge and grow purple.

Walking around in front of him, Kael said, “Stand up.”

Conran attempted to rise, but it was impossible. The bar pressed into his

thighs, dragging his testicles farther from his body. To do more than crawl forward

very slowly was physically impossible. He was trapped, unable to move without

ripping his balls from his body. “I can"t,” he said after several attempts. He looked

up into Kael"s eyes. “Master, I cannot. Forgive me, Sir.”

“I know you can"t get up, boy. I just wanted to show you how helpless you are. ”

Kael looked down at Conran, who was rigidly locked in place, unable to move

without excruciating pain. “Do you see what I can do to you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now, Stephen, I have made it clear to you that I cannot fuck you because that

is an intimacy I now reserve for Angel, the boy I love.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I do not love you, but I must admit a grudging affection for you.” He smiled

and reached down to pat Conran"s sweaty head.

“Thank you, Sir.”

Kael moved so suddenly that Conran jumped. He screamed as pain tore

through his scrotum. “No hasty moves, Stephen,” Kael said. He had known Conran

would jump when he moved. The action had been carefully planned to cause the

reaction and the pain. From the moment Conran arrived, Kael had known exactly

what he planned to do to him.

Conran probably weighed about ten stone, a good two stone more than Angel,

but Kael knew he could lift him. He bent his knees and slid his arms under

Conran"s torso the way one would lift a dog. The screech Conran let out at finding

himself lifted from the ground with the knowledge that even the slightest stumble

or hesitation from Kael would cause him to fall, effectively castrating him, was

piercing.

With the other man"s weight settled across his arms, Kael stood absolutely

still. He was acutely aware that even a small mistake could cause a permanent

injury, and that was the last thing he wanted. Conran was completely helpless and

Angel and the Assassin: Be Brave

79

utterly vulnerable. Not until he was absolutely certain that he would not waver did

Kael begin to move. He carried Conran across the dungeon to the leather-topped

torture table. But he did not put him down.

“Are you afraid, Stephen?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Of what?”

“Sir, if Master loses his grip on me even slightly, the pain will be unbearable.”

“Remember Bosnia, Stephen? Remember when you thought you were going to

die in a dark forest all alone?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Who came and got you? Who protected you?”

“You, Sir.”

“Of course I did.” Kael lowered Conran onto the table and then fetched a pair

of steel handcuffs. He snapped the cuffs around Conran"s wrists and then brought

the chair over. He sat down directly in front of Conran. “Now talk to me, boy. Tell

me why you need me. It"s not as if we were friends at school. In fact you weren"t

very kind to me back then, were you?”

Conran began speaking, his tone touchingly deferential. “I know, Sir. I was

immature then. I"d had a privileged life, and you were as tough as nails from a

rough part of Liverpool. I knew the only way a boy like you could have ended up

with a full scholarship to a school like College Grange was if you were brilliant. And

you were. You are. You were handsome and big even then, and you grew more so

with each year.” He took a long, ragged breath. “I was jealous of you.”

When a man was rendered defenseless, his soul was exposed. Under ordinary

circumstances, even if he was drunk, Conran would never reveal himself so

absolutely.

“Are you still jealous of me, boy?”

“Yes, Sir, in some ways.”

“Tell me all about it.”

“You live by your own rules. I know you"ve been trying to conform, and you are

only doing it for Angel, but look what a disaster it was. You are unique, even among

your peers. I always thought life would be simpler if I was like you and cared less.”

“Cared less about what?”

“About what other people think of me, about whether or not I will succeed in

my career. You see, someone like me doesn"t have a lot of options if I fail. But you?

You would simply reinvent yourself and move on.”

“I failed as a teacher.” Kael shrugged as if he didn"t care.

“As a language teacher, yes. But the operatives in your weapons and self-

defense classes are in awe of you. The men all want to be you. The women wish you

were available to them.”

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Fyn Alexander

Kael smiled as if he knew that already, but he hadn"t. He had no idea how

people felt about him, never having been very good at gauging emotion in others,

and he found himself flattered.

“I care a lot about some things,” Kael said. “It"s important that my hits are

neat and tidy. Arterial spray can be a bitch.” He laughed. “Do you know how good I

feel when I get my target in the exact right spot in the center of the forehead or the

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