Bait Naked Read online

  BAIT NAKED

  by

  Amanda Knights

  © Copyright Amanda Knights

  The right of Amanda Knights to be identified as the author of this book has been asserted

  in accordance with Section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved.

  Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying, and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This electronic book published by Fiction4All

  Imprint: FetishWorld

  www.a1adultebooks.com

  Prologue Warming Up

  Fifteen minutes into her workout, Angela was sweating. Not glowing girly like, but dripping wet from physical exertion and erotic distress. Her sparring partner was a heavy leather covered bag hanging from the shading rafters covering her back patio. Naked, she liked the feel of fight-exercising in her own pelt.

  High kicking and punching, she sent the bag swinging fore and aft, back and forth. To an observer, one could almost see a pattern, a sort of a dance in her un-ending attacks. Grunts and cries of effort combined with impact thuds of foot and fist striking the inert opponent. Breathing hard, her firm athletic body constantly moving sent her unbound breasts into a motion that approached violence. Lithe curves and crevices of light colored skin covered female flowed with pure fluid eroticism. She thrived as a sexy lethal bitch, her contrasting submissive quirks kept more or less personal.

  As to concealing the later, a muffled cough from Angela’s left reminded her that privacy was a relative luxury. The old fart next door was spying on her again. She didn’t mind as long as he stayed put and somewhat obscure. Past voyeuristic exposure had him wise enough to remain behind the privacy fence and enjoying the show. Anymore and she would have made sure there was hell to pay.

  Using her own derivation of several martial arts techniques, Angela kept on the offense never thinking defense. Her muscles ached, her fists and feet hurt from striking the dummy stand-in, her breasts were sore from their self beating. The tiny clips biting into her nipples and enraged clit fired into vivacity her embrace of ‘No pain, no gain”. Her mind was focused on employing controlled aggression while enduring stimulating self-torment. Her sex was awash with the sweetness of rousing pain-pleasure surges. Breathless and excited, it was time to wind down, to savor just the pleasurable aspects of the intense workout’s effort and the constant sensuous burn provided by the purposefully placed multi barbed clips.

  Moving to a pad, she folded into a lotus position and strained to accept silence and peace as good. Breathing deeply, she began to feel the tension drain out of her body and relaxation flowing in. A gentle breeze cooled her skin while the lingering ache of the exercise and the triple sexually exciting torment converged to send her loins to fluttering. It was time to release the clips and savor the after rush of sweet agony.

  Suppressing any outward indication of the tumultuous kick that surged from first one released nipple and then the other, Angela internalized the throb transforming the fervor into a self-gratifying carnal rage. Liberating her screaming clit minutes later released a discharge of sensually ethereal opiates.

  Following through with a flicking caress of her pulsating clit, the tremors of an impending orgasm brought her to lying on her back, legs spread open. Carnally incensed, Angela used her free hand to unconsciously maul her breasts and further abuse their protesting crowns in turn. Beyond shameless, two fingers roughly dipping in an out of her vagina to produce real surges of carnal delight, the turbulent climax was a perfect intoxicating conclusion to the session. Moaning with post-coital gratification, Angela inwardly smirked. Contentment was so over blown; sex without the erotic inclusion of pain was bland to empty.

  Disturbing Angela’s twisted serenity, her phone was ringing. Coming off the indulgent high, she let it go to the answering machine. It was her boss Frank, he wanted her to come in and discuss a job offer. She’d call him back when she was ready to play. Her immediate need was another carnal deliverance and a long hot shower. After that it was time to move on. This was just about as much of harmony and peace that she could take. Being one with the Lotus Blossom was simply ridiculous.

  Beginning a cool-down stretching routine groans from behind the fence indicated her aged neighbor had enjoyed her exercises about as much as she had. There was always the possibility that he was having the big one, but that would be his poor wife’s problem. Angela had another agenda.

  Frank usually assigned jobs, those that were routine to mundane. An offer meant he had a more exacting operation in mind. The best ones provided exciting reality escapes from the ordinary. The urgency of his phone message placed this latest proffer in that category. Other than feeding her insatiable appetite for edgy sexual fantasies, nothing else could make Angela happier.

  Chapter 1 Assignment Accepted

  “Holy shit,” Angela whispered.

  The array of photos spread out before her were of attractive women in the prime of their lives. She guessed their ages from their early thirties to mid forties. The theme that tied them together was all had gone missing from productive, satisfying lives. As of yet unsaid, Angela expected that they had fallen prey to unruly desires and very likely would never be seen again. Her boss confirmed suspicions that the latter was the case.

  “Nothing holy about it,” Angela’s boss Frank grunted. “I see the devil’s work here.”

  Not in disagreement, her eyes drawn to the images, Angela asked, “How many are there?”

  “Eleven that we have been able to string together,” Frank answered. “There are probably more.”

  “Other than being female, obviously into leather accessories and missing, is there any other connection between the women?” Angela asked on automatic. She didn’t add the obvious: all of the pictures depicted the women in various stages of undress and provocatively adorned with edgy garnishes.

  One of the aspects of her job was to find missing persons, dead or alive. Alive was always the preference. Sometimes being a private investigator involved messy. Working dirty and playing the slut were business decisions. Frank didn’t call on these talents often, but when he did Angela was inclined toward feeling pleased.

  “A few things,” Frank answered pouring a cup of coffee, “but, as of yet nothing that is case closing. Worse, these particular situations are on the local cop’s back burners or inactive.”

  “You’re kidding,” Angela responded tearing her eyes away from the scattered photos. Most of the women were nipple pierced, several had labia rings. “I would think a series of missing females connected in some way would be nationwide front page news.”

  “I never joke Angela,” Frank said with a firmness that left no doubt he was serious. A characteristic he was known for. “And as you will discover, this is an international affair. The women are from a number of different countries.”

  “How did we become involved?” Angela asked her employer a security and private investigative firm operating out of Miami.

  “With many of our major customers running for their lives from angry citizens,” Frank answered, “business was slow. The Chairman instructed our analytical section to package up some work for us…sort of like law firms do in class action suits. An Interpol data search struck pay-dirt.”

/>   “Still,” Angela responded glancing back at the photos, “from what you are telling me, other than these near nude glamour shots and apparent affinity for steel and leather paraphernalia, these individual women were part of their normal societies…not whores working the edges of life in obscurity. Someone reported their disappearances…are worried about them.”

  “Normally you would be dead on,” Frank said, taking a sip of coffee. “However, these cases are not routine. The lack of police interest and no publicity is on purpose. The families involved want it that way. They were rich bitches with elite lineages, and apparently liked their sex on the rough side. Therein lays an embarrassment factor. You see to various extents the alleged victims were active participants in their disappearances. From what we can determine, these photos were advertisements of a sort.”

  Angela’s heart skipped a beat as her sex began to fearlessly twitch. On a fantasy level, she might have more in common with the missing women than their looks and age range. She couldn’t be sure, but Angela detected a look of trapped passions in each of the women’s eyes, their stunning bodies clearly posed in a provoking manner. The leather collars and cuffs, ringed and stud filled flesh and crops and whips draped or laying about left little to the imagination. Frank’s continued brief only added to the inescapable turmoil stirring her own sense of challenging restlessness.

  “While the setups that led to these vanishings appear to be consensual in nature,” Frank droned on seemingly unaffected by the bizarre nature of what he was relating, “there are suspicions a series of criminal seductions took place. Uninhibited sex, sexual slavery, pain-pleasure trips…that sort of thing was involved to various degrees. That’s where we come in. The consensus of the families is that they want closure done with a discreet finality.”

  “Understand,” Angela responded. This case was not about tracking down a series of runaways. Frank reinforced that there was an untidy side that added a carnal complexity to the package he was outlining.

  “All of the women,” Frank continued, “took sabbaticals or life breaks, during which they vanished. As these photos attest too and several other factors indicate these retreats included S&M tinted rendezvous.eHH”

  “Any notes left behind…diaries, email files?” Angela asked her nipples hardening.

  “Nothing that one can draw a conclusion from,” Frank answered his expression one of studied concentration.

  Frank had to know more than he was exposing to Angela: the chances that a number of like women could have just vanished without a clue was a near impossibility without a common director. She sensed he was carefully choosing his words, the impression one of caution and the withholding of information. He was her boss, but she sensed it was going to be her butt on the line.

  He needed to be more forthcoming about the case and she began to insist as much when Frank suddenly turned to face her and said, “Before I go any further are you in as in volunteering to work with us on this case?”

  Before Angela could formulate an answer, there was movement behind her and a male voice saying, “Sure she is.”

  “Hey Jack,” Frank smiled. “Glad you could join us. I know you and Angela are close acquaintances.”

  “We sure are,” Jack Savage answered with a trademark wide grin as he placed a hand on Angela’s shoulder. “We’ve been close friends for quite a while.”

  Angela fought to keep from laughing with an outward expression of distant professionalism. Jack and she were not only buddies. They were sparing partners in and out of bed. Only a night ago, they had wrestled and screwed each other senseless. Moreover, she had given Jack keys to her very private proclivity for pain-sex. That made his presence at the meeting somewhat disturbing.

  “Well Angela,” Frank asked again, “can I count on you being part of our team? Jack put in his highest recommendation for you to serve as our undercover bait. He said you were perfect for the job of attracting our man into a trap of our making. I agreed.”

  “Why am I thinking of that scene in a movie a few years back,” Angela responded with a wary smile, “where a live goat was tied out as bait to draw in a meat eating dinosaur for the tourists to see. You know the one where the camera looks away and then back and the goat is gone…as in eaten whole.”

  Both Frank and Jack laughed, Jack harder than Frank. Frank was the first to speak.

  “Not a chance here,” Frank said with returning seriousness. “We’ll have you wired and constantly under observation by agents armed to the teeth.”

  “Maybe not wired,” Jack said squeezing Angela’s shoulder. “There is a factor here that prevents being wired.”

  “Ah yes,” Frank nodded turning to Angela. “You see Angela along with these interesting photos, the one connection the women do share is that they all went on a “mid-life crisis” sort of vacation. Not only that, but they went to the same secluded resort, one that is famous for its nude anything goes life style.”

  “So going undercover in this case,” Angela filled in glancing back at the photos, “means bare ass naked.”

  “Afraid so,” Frank confirmed.

  “And not only naked,” Jack added with a little too much enthusiasm, “but bait naked…as in advertising yourself in a way that makes sure you draw in the right target.”

  “So what will you have me do,” Angela asked, “hang a fucking sign around my neck pleading to be spirited away into sexual slavery…or worse?”

  “Come on Angela,” Jack said releasing Angela’s shoulder and moving in front of her. “You’re a drop-dead beautiful woman and know damn well how to turn on that take-me vulnerability aura of needing to be fucked and dominated. If things go wrong you know how to take care of yourself. A combination that is perfect for this op.”

  Ignoring Jack’s crass observation, Angela turned to Frank and asked, “And how many agents are going to be closely monitoring my every move…and curve, mound, slit and crack?”

  “Four of the best,” Frank answered, his expression one of discomfort. Something was bothering him.

  “Come on. You’re not telling me everything,” Angela insisted her suspicions mounting.

  “Jack,” Frank said spreading his hands out as if sloughing off any responsibility, “off and on this case has been your baby for the last four years. It’s time to be upfront with Angela.”

  “For us to nail the right flesh dealer,” Jack said avoiding eye contact with Angela, “you’re going to have to play the role of an uninhibited pain slut…and actively submit to suffering in sexually abusive scenarios.”

  “The bet is the males that hang around at the resort will be on you like flies,” Frank added. “You’ll probably have to get personal with more than a few of them before the one we are looking for makes a convincing move.”

  “You’re screwing with me,” Angela retorted, the brief adding bizarre on top of weird. “The firm would never condone an operation like this.”

  Suddenly turning to face Angela, Jack responded with, “You’re right. This operation is closely held with few knowing of the plan. For reasons you will find out, going unconventional is the only way we have a chance to end this creep’s career.”

  “The risks sexual and otherwise….”

  “Are huge for you,” Jack interrupted. “During the time frame that you are going to be there the resort holds its quarterly S&M gala. Weeks afterwards coincides with the rough timelines of the disappearances. This upcoming event is the first following the last alleged victim’s vanishing act. Dangerous and exciting I would say. Just the reason you are going to join us…right?”

  Cycling between wanting to laugh or scream, Angela did neither. Instead she sighed and answered with, “Shit…an erotic kink centered gala. This is going to be the death of me.”

  “We all have to go sometime,” Jack smiled, “and at least you’ll be living fast out on the edge… playing rough to the very end.”

  “Right…and that makes me so fucked,” Angela moaned. Jack was using carnal knowledge to trap her i
nto this dangerous assignment. Her private inclinations should have been off limits. Her boss didn’t help with her building reservations.

  “Angela, we have not found any evidence of a terminal outcome in the disappearances,” Frank said with a pained grimace. “But, there is a possibility we are dealing with a serial psycho. For sure, you are going to have to suffer some rough stuff to draw out the right pervert.”

  “I’m thinking that will be the easy part,” Angela responded glancing back to the photos laid out on the table.

  All the evidence pointed to a professional at work in the disappearances. Additionally, indications were that the women were actively receptive to provocative sex to include erotic pain. An opportunity opened for them to vanish into a more exciting life-style, and knowing or not the inherent risks, they took the chance.

  Angela was envious to a point; and while not much did, that scared her.

  Chapter 2 A Sure Thing

  “Damn it Jack,” Angela quietly hissed wondering if her office was wired, “did you tell them everything about me? Does my personnel file now include that Angela Wells is a nymphomaniac pain ho?”

  Jack answered by directing Angela to stand next to a portable radio she kept for hearing the news and weather. Turning it on loud, he quietly said, “You me, your particulars…none of this is part of the record. Also the meeting we just had, any discussions, what we are going to do, the final outcome will never have happened.”

  “Funding, personnel time, travel…?”

  “All billed under a drug op,” Jack answered pointing toward a potted plant and giving the cut signal. Louder, he continued with, “It is quitting time. Let’s try that watering hole down by the marina. I hear their happy hour is the greatest.”