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Girl from Ipanema 4/?
Date: 2012-06-14 03:58 am (UTC)"You should always keep these at hand," he said. "Watch how I bend it. This will the be the easiest way for you to escape handcuffs. Once you learn.. you'll be free in seconds."
The reassuring contact and the salacious tidbit of information was enough to bring back her mood. Martina said softly, "Oh, but I didn't see you pick the lock when you got out."
Picus had angled himself into the best position when she cuffed him. It had been all too easy to straighten out and withdraw from the cuff. "I was expecting it. You weren't. There are many ways to escape."
"They taught you all this, didn't they?" she asked in a husky whisper.
He supposed that her imagination had her thinking of something you'd see in the pulps or the holos. Truth be told he learned the tricks of the trade after an excruciating trial of torture and mayhem at the hands of various frumentarii. His most hated yet helpful instructor was a boyish tribal who looked like he was twelve years old or something. Picus still had dreams of being thrown handcuffed into the Colorado. 'Dear brother, you're just not getting this, are you? Don't worry, I pounded the water out of you.. I wouldn't let harm come to you! Lady Silva says you have a special mission, so we will train you especially. Now, let us get you to your feet and we will try again after a demonstration. Don't panic, you'll just suck in water.'
Picus placed the bent pin in her free hand and helped guide her. She leaned in at his closeness and rubbed her cheek on his shoulder, but he made her look at what they were doing.
"You should learn this so well that you don't need to look anymore. You should look straight ahead if you ever need to do this. You should practice. Where's the key?"
She smiled. "On a ribbon by my pillow."
For some reason the detail of a handcuff key on a girly ribbon made him smile. Very Martina.
While she fiddled with the cuff, he slipped a hand beneath the satin scrap of a garment. He ran a slow stroke across her outer thigh, dipping low to pluck at her garter. Sometimes she like to stash something in there to make herself feel sly. A knife, one time-- he'd told her flatly it looked like she had an erection. She didn't react well to that.
Martina was still struggling with the lock. He let her struggle. That was the best way to learn. How he learned.
While his protege learned her lesson, Picus began to kiss her cheek, her jaw, her neck. She responded warmly to him. He knew she liked him for the unique opportunities he provided her if nothing else. Letting her live her little fantasies. Letting her think she was an NCR captain's girlfriend. That kind of prestige and stability was a rare prize for a woman to attain.
He gripped and squeezed a handful of thigh flesh, where the leg broadens to meet the body. She moaned. His hand ran from the outside of her thigh to the inner, and he pressed his knuckles against the softer skin. Just barely brought his index finger up, just barely disturbing the hairs of her sex.
Martina gasped.
She shifted her stance completely and for a moment it looked like she would abandon her efforts with the handcuffs. Their eyes met sharply and then she smiled, pushing her body against his hand.