Sunday, 2 December 2012

A R Moler - Naughty: Mandatory Fun


Naughty: Mandatory Fun, a Torquere Menage story by AR Moler


The head of Special Investigative Services, John Benchley, dreads the holiday season. During the autumn of the last two years, he’s lost two friends and fellow agents: one to a senseless robbery and one to the predations of a supernatural being that SIS was created to combat. The last thing he wants to do right now is participate in the mandatory Yuletide interagency bash. In particular, he’d really, really like to avoid an old hook-up, the man-eating Madison Carthage. Gabrielle Dichenz and Evan Garrett, his current lovers, promise him a reward for being a good boy and hanging in there. Sexy grown-up presents are good; love and support are better. John’s Christmas season just might take a turn for the better this year.



He should really turn the photo on top of the file cabinet around to face the wall. John Benchley, Director of SIS, propped his elbows on his office desk and rested his forehead on his knuckles. He'd just received the email announcing when and where the federal interagency Christmas party was going to be held. There would people from the NSA, CIA, FBI, and a whole slew of other parts of the alphabet soup that included Special Investigative Services. SIS was tiny but carried an immense amount of clout. If he wanted to maintain the token cooperation he got from the bigger agencies, he had to "play nice," which really ought to translate as "know what to kiss and when."

The photo he was trying to avoid looking at showed himself, Stuart, and Sean at the same infamous party a couple of years back. Stuart and Sean were both dead now. Sean had been the first to die. That was almost two years ago at this point. Last year it had been Stuart. John
occasionally wondered when he was going to exit the picture. He'd had some near misses this past year.

"Gabrielle's running late for dinner. You okay?"

John lifted his head. Evan stood in the doorway of his office. "Yeah. I got the email about -- the party."

"The party? Oh. That party." Evan gave John an evil grin. "I wonder if Madison is going to be there."
"Oh fuck, just shoot me now. I forgot about that part." John cringed a little internally. He'd had a casual long weekend in bed with the head of the Boston FBI office shortly after his divorce. Madison might be hot sex on a stick in bed, but she was also a predatory bitch.

"Brie and I will protect you, and you won't even have to fake making out with Fiona this year," Evan said. He walked into the office and sat on the edge of John's desk.

Evan brushed his fingers through John's short dark hair and down along the side of his face. John appreciated the comfort of the affection. The weeks preceding last year's party had been brutally rough on an emotional level. He could sense Evan's care.

"Fiona got a perverse thrill out of doing that," John replied. At the previous party, Fiona, SIS's computer maven, had strategically rearranged her clothing and John's to simulate a quick redress after sex, all in the name of running interference between John and Madison.

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