It gives you...


Erotica by Joe Tortuga

W69S01E01: The Jade Choker

(FF, humor, warehouse 69)

March 08, 2013

**Patrick and Celine were sitting the Pentagon City Mall when the odd man walked into the food court. “So, I’m scheduling a wake for that relationship,” Celine said to him. “Drinks, regrets, everything. Friday night.”

“I’m on duty Friday night,” he said. “How about Saturday.”

“Okay, but I might start before then. Messy breakups are messy.”

“That was doomed to failure,” Patrick said. “You should have known.”

“I always know,” she said. “Nothing lasts.”

“Do you recognize that guy?” Patrick asked. “Looks like he’s headed our way.”

Celine took a moment to check out the man. Overall he was neat, clean shaven and of apparent Middle Eastern descent. He wore a tan trench coat over a well-fitting charcoal suit and dark tie. He had the tell-tale wire coming out of his ear that said he worked for some Agency or another. Celine didn’t see an obvious badge, although the outfit itself spoke volumes.

Celine noticed he was also wearing the oddest glasses, kind of squarish with a green tint which were totally wrong for his face. She’d seen some like them before, but couldn’t place them at the moment. He had one hand on them as if he was peering through the glasses, instead of them being something he normally wore. “Doesn’t look familiar to me,” she said to Patrick.

That’s when the man turned to her. “Miss,” he said. “Might I inquire if you are lesbian, bisexual, pansexual or otherwise interested in people of your apparent gender?”

Patrick snorted at the question and Celine glared at him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What did you ask me?”

“I guess what I’m asking is, are you capable at cunnilingus? It’s a matter of national security.”

“What?” Patrick was cackling now, but it didn’t seem to faze the man with the glasses.

“I’m not asking for myself,” he said.

“Of course not,” Celine replied. “You seem ill-equipped for that.”

“It’s just that the glasses aren’t working on you at all but no one here even has a glimmer of gay.”

“I take offense at that,” Patrick said.

“Sorry,” the man said. “I misspoke. I meant that no other women here have a glimmer of gay. Not that being a lesbian would confer some magical capability at oral sex with women, but it seemed like a reasonable decision procedure given the short notice.”

“Well to hear her tell it she’s an expert at all sorts of sexual activities.”


The man took the odd glasses and adjusted them with his thumb and forefinger. His mouth quirked, he shook his head and took the glasses off. Behind them his eyes were a very deep brown, with little golden flecks..

“It’s true, and you know it, so you might as well own it,” Patrick said.

“We don’t even know who this person is,” she said. “He only says this is a matter of ‘National Security.‘”

“Indeed,” the man said. He folded the glasses and tucked them into a case in his coat pocket, and pulled a small billfold from behind the glasses case. “I’m Agent Fareed Alexander, with the Department of Homeland Security.” He brandished his badge; Celine took it, looked it over and handed it back.

“Okay,” she said. “What sort of national emergency requires the use of my purported extensive oral skills? Do you have some sort of uncontrollably horny Diplomatic Attache-slash-lesbian thrashing about on a bed in the Ritz Carlton?”

Patrick laughed, but the man looked askance. “Well” he said. “She’s not a Diplomatic Attache.”

“This I have to see.” Celine got up and took out her phone. “Just let me text my boss.”

“You going to be okay?” Patrick asked.

She just stuck her tongue out at him. “With this tongue I’ll be better than okay.” Turning to the agent, she said. “Lead on Agent Alexander.”


The Pentagon City Mall was connected to the Ritz Carlton, so the walk wasn’t too difficult. “It’s not many people who would do this,” Fareed said to her. “I appreciate your help.”

They strode together through the lobby, and Fareed called the elevator. As they got on she told him, “Well, I’m an agent too. It’s our job. Plus if you aren’t for real, my boss is going to text me any moment now, since I sent him your badge number.”

“You have a photographic memory?” Fareed asked.

“More like French Impressionist,” she said. “Still it’s pretty good.” He just arched his brow and turned to the door. “Are you going to tell me what this big emergency is?”

“Need to know,” he said. “You don’t need to know.”

“What about the name of the woman?”

“Need to know.”

“I kind of think I do.” He just shrugged. “Of course,” she said. Agents.

The elevator stopped on the 8th floor, and he stepped off. He pulled out a key card and opened a door onto a large suite. Inside the outer room were a couple of other non-descript agents. From the bedroom, Celine heard a woman shout out a despondent “Fuck!”

Celine walked to the door and looked in. “Maggie?” she said.

“You know this woman?”

“She’s a programmer,” Celine said. “We’ve worked together. What the fuck is going on?”

Fareed paused for a moment and sighed. “You probably know then, what she was working on?”

Celine nodded. “Site security for the Fed. Some kind of complicated encryption.”

“Well, she’s one of two people who know the encryption codes,” Fareed said. “She went missing three days ago, and we just found her. Pretty much like this.”

Celie stepped into the room, and saw Maggie roll around on the bed. The room reeked with the other woman’s arousal. She was naked, except for a jade choker. Her long red hair was plastered to her face; her hands were on her pussy working it hard. A look of intense frustration was on her face, and her nipples were like sharp points on big round luscious mounds.

Celine shook her head to clear it “Naked, hot and sweaty? or what?” She’d never realized Maggie was so beautiful, or that she was a lesbian. Well, these things were good to know.

“Yes,” Fareed said, stepping in the room behind her. “Naked except for that necklace which won’t come off. She’s unable to focus or orgasm, and we’ve been unable to find a means to aid her. Nor has she been willing to allow us.” He coughed and looked away from the scene.

“Is it drugs?” Celine asked. She walked closer to the bed. The sheets and cover for the bed were in a pile next to it. Maggie still had not registered their presence.

“We’re not sure. We believe it’s a form of torture. They’ll allow her orgasm if she tells them the secret. It’s better than pain, and leaves the victim unscarred, as it were. For now, we hope that an orgasm will break whatever has its hold on her.”

Celine nodded and started undoing her blouse. “Well, I’ve got this,” she said. “You can leave . Shut the door behind you.”

Fareed nodded and buckled up his trench coat. She turned to Maggie and heard the door close behind her. She undid the rest of her blouse and pulled it and her jacket off at the same time, leaving her in a purple lace bra. She undid that, and walked closer to the bed, dropping it as she went. “Maggie,” she said.

“Celine,” Maggie gasped. “What?”

Celine shimmied out of her skirt. “I’m from the government, and I’m here to help you.” Maggie groaned. Celine kicked off her shoes, that left her in her panties and nothing else. They were also purple and lacy — life was too short for boring underwear. She slid into the bed next to Maggie, and the other woman wrapped her hands and legs around her.

“I’m so horny,” Maggie said. “Can’t think straight.”

“That’s good,” Celine said, “because you aren’t.” Then she kissed the other woman, tasting her lips and tongue. Maggie sighed and moaned against her. Her tongue darted out insistently, and her hands ran up and down Celine’s body. She found her underwear and started working it off.

Celine pulled back. “No, hon, today those stay on. Let me take care of you.” Maggie whined a bit, but then Celine kissed her again, touching and tasting the redhead’s soft lips. She then kissed her on the chin, and started sliding down the bed.

She glanced at the jade necklace. It was a beautiful piece, jade inlaid in silver with chinese symbols etched into the metal. Something about the piece seemed inimical, and yet fascinating. She closed her eyes and forced herself to look away and avoided touching the thing.

Celine moved down to Maggie’s breasts, and kissed between them. She breathed in the other woman’s scent: salty from sweat and musky from arousal. Celine moved over her left breast and sucked in the nipple. Maggie’s hands ran down her back, her nails scratching insistently at her back.

Celine slid her hand between Maggie’s legs which opened wide to let her in. Her pussy wasn’t just wet it was sopping. When she ran her fingers over the other woman’s lips, Maggie let out a long hiss that might have been the word “Yes.” Celine smiled at that, and slid further down the redhead’s body until her mouth was over the soft red curls of her mound.

Celine nipped at Maggie’s mound and the woman thrashed under her. Maggie’s hands and fingers entangled in Celie’s head, pushing her down. Celine was ready for that now and went willingly. The first two fingers of her right hand were brushing against Maggie’s lips, but now she slid them inside and felt for the sensitive ridges inside her pussy. With her tongue she slipped open the folds of Maggie’s pussy and found her clit.

Maggie cried out then. “Oh my God, I’m so close, so close!” Celine teased her, and Maggie pressed her crotch against her face. Celine worked the redhead’s pussy, licking in time to finger motions, teasing all the sensitive flesh of the other woman with all the skill she knew. Maggie bucked and rode and grabbed her; she cried out and thrashed and still she did not come.

This wasn’t just a game, Celine realized. This woman really couldn’t come. She could get aroused, get really close, but couldn’t get over the edge. She had to up her game and get her off. She clamped her lips around Maggie’s clit, and started sucking. With her right hand, she extended a third finger, and slid it into the other woman’s pussy.

Maggie wrapped her legs around her head, and cried out as she pulled Celine tighter and closer. Celine slid another finger inside her and began moving her hand back and forth as much as the tight space would allow. “Come for me,” she thought. “Come for me, Maggie.” She nipped at her clit and sucked it as hard as she could.

Maggie pulled her in so tight she couldn’t breath, and then something broke between them. Maggie screamed a piercing cry and arched her back. Then the cry became too much and she was just quiet. Her body shook and quivered. Celine thought she heard a metal sound; Maggie cried out again and fell so;emt.

Celine pulled herself away, now that she finally could, and looked at her handiwork. Maggie lay there, her hair even more damp and tousled than it had been, but her body relaxed and her breathing easy.

Fareed stepped up to the sleeping woman — and with purple latex gloves, picked up the necklace. “You might want to look away,” he said. He dropped the necklace into an anti-static bag, and it let out an incredibly bright light, accompanied by a zapping sound..

Celine quickly looked away and noticed that the door was still shut. “What was that?” she asked. “And you watched us the whole time?”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I had to be here to get the choker.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“Need to know,” he said. “Your country thanks you for your service. You might want to get dressed.”

Celine dressed and cleaned herself up. It would have been nice to know they had latex gloves. Not that she’d asked. By the time she cleaned up, Fareed was gone. Maggie was still sleeping, so Celine covered her up before leaving the bedroom.

The two other agents were still in the outer room. “We’ll watch over her,” one of them said. “We’ve been detailed to protect her until the codes are changed.”

“Thanks,” she said. “She’s a friend.”

“Of course,” he said. “That other agent left you his card, and said to call him if you experience anything odd, like the smell of fudge when there’s no fudge, your gallbladder feels numb, or if you experience exceptional horniness while looking up. .” The agent blushed and shrugged as he held out the card.

She took the card, it was black with silver lettering. “Fareed Alexander, Department of Homeland Security: Warehouse 69, (202) 555 - 6901”**

Joe Tortuga

Written by Joe Tortuga a bisexual dominant erotica writer and programmer (he/him). Follow me on Twitter