Florida Keys, United States

Katrina Luvesky looked at the four young mercenaries and wondered if they were as willing to kill unarmed men, women, and children as she believed. The four men looked fit enough for the task, all of them tall and thick-chested, with that slightly under-fed look that carnivorous animals possessed when they hadn’t made a kill in a while and an empty stomach gnawed at them.

“Tonight, we will begin a new phase of our operation, and you will be at the forefront of that mission,” she said, keeping her voice low so that the men were forced to concentrate to hear everything she said. “Tonight, the Moscow Cartel, the most powerful criminal organization the world has ever known, takes root in the United States.”

Katrina paused a moment, turning away from the men to look at Juanita Diego. The young petite Mexican girl was standing impassively, her dark eyes seeing everything while showing no emotion. She was Katrina’s closest assistant, and she followed orders without hesitation or question.

 Physically, Katrina was in stark contrast to her. The Russian was tall, standing an even six feet in height, and her eyes were the color of blue ice. Katrina’s breasts were full and round. She was, overall, spectacularly feminine, and as deadly a creature as had ever walked the Earth.

“We need everyone inside the residence neutralized,” Katrina continued, speaking to the four soldiers, though she was looking at Juanita. “There can be no one left alive. Later, when the property is put up for sale, the Moscow Cartel will purchase the land, using a front to avoid whatever complications the American legal system puts forward.”

Katrina stepped closer to a soldier. His name was Jacques. He was the most attractive of the four soldiers, and like the others, in his early twenties. He was muscular and handsome and heartless, which, for Katrina, made him close to perfect for her needs. She wondered just how endowed he was. No doubt he would not compare to Katrina’s favorite, the hulking mute Russian named Vladimir—who had the richly deserved nickname of “Vlad the Impaler.”

“Juanita, come closer,” Katrina said quietly, looking at Jacques’s handsome profile.

The four young soldiers stood at attention, their arms at their sides, chests out and shoulders square. Each man wore a drab olive green and brown camouflaged military uniform. Katrina touched Jacques’s chest with a fingertip as though testing the firmness of fruit in a grocery store. The young man continued staring straight ahead.

“Juanita, I want you to sharpen their senses,” Katrina continued.

Katrina let her finger run down Jacques’s chest, then over his flat stomach. He continued staring straight ahead, just as he had been trained to. Katrina felt a tingling begin inside herself, a delightful itching sensation centered down low, in her clitoris. Katrina reached between Jacques’s legs. She squeezed his cock through the camouflaged trousers, and was pleased with what she felt. As she fondled him, his cock almost immediately began growing longer and harder. That, too, pleased Katrina. Immensely.

Juanita, with her midnight black hair falling over her shoulders nearly to her trim waist, stood quietly, waiting for the next order to be given.

“Yes, you are definitely all man, aren’t you?” It was really more of a statement of fact than a question.

Jacques did not reply. He did not turn his gaze directly toward her, even though his cock was rapidly hardening, creating a prominent bulge in his uniform.

Katrina caught the tab of his fly zipper and tugged it down. She reached inside Jacques’s uniform, and her fingers curled gently around the growing shaft of his cock. She felt the heat of his strong young body go through her palm, into her blood. His heart accelerated and quickly made his cock fill her fist.

“Very nice,” Katrina purred. It took a bit of doing, but she finally got his cock out of his trousers. His long, pale column of hard flesh filled her hand. “Juanita, give him some pleasure, but not too much. He mustn’t be satisfied, just pleasured. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Comrade Luvesky,” Juanita replied dutifully.

Without hesitation, Juanita moved so that she stood directly in front of Jacques. She was barely five feet tall, and the soldier towered over her. Slowly, drawing out the suspense of the moment, Juanita sank to her knees. She smoothed her hair behind her ears, and for several seconds remained motionless, her hands resting lightly on her thighs. Her onyx-black eyes took on a new brilliance as she watched Katrina’s hand moving back and forth over the pulsing shaft of Jacques’s cock.

“Go ahead, Juanita,” Katrina whispered huskily. “Give him some pleasure.”

The pink tip of Juanita’s tongue made a slow circumference of her mouth, moistening her lips. Then she leaned forward and kissed the flaring crown of Jacques’s cock. Her tongue slithered out between her lips. The soft, sultry purr of contentment that came from Juanita was unaffected. Her dark eyes were open, but they had taken on a smoky quality, as though the young woman was slowly sinking into a trance. After several seconds, she pushed forward, filling her mouth with the soldier’s cock. Her jaws opened wide. She tightened her lips around the thick, heavily veined shaft, just behind the head of his cock. Her tongue was in constant motion.

“Is she good?” Katrina asked Jacques. She knew of Juanita’s skill in such matters. He continued staring straight ahead. Katrina simply smiled and, as she worked her hand back and forth over his shaft, she let her fingers occasionally brush against Juanita’s mouth. “Yes, my darling Juanita can give great pleasure. There are times, at the end of a long and difficult day, when the pressures of being a senior officer for the Moscow Cartel can seem overwhelming. Juanita helps me relax. She likes helping me relax. Don’t you, Juanita?”