It was the year 2011 in the dense jungle of Burma.
Nearly a hundred men were sweating profusely as they dug into the ground with shovels and machinery. They were hired to excavate gold and other natural resources. A government minister was there along with military officials and business people.
She was part of the business side of things. Her real name was Ohnmar, but in secret circles, her alias was ‘Ms. Q.’
The meeting and the tour of the land had wrapped up and many of them went their separate ways. Plans were closer to being finalized and big contracts were near, benefiting everyone involved.
After paying final respects to the military personal and the government minister, she took a moment to check her phone. A woman of her stature had to always be in the loop of things, whether it be family responsibilities or business dilemmas that needed urgent attention.
Skimming through her new messages and emails, something caught her eye. It was a note from the Agency. It was something from deep within her personal life that no one else knew about. Her heart always rushed whenever she received an email from them. She always felt embarrassed too.
Good and proper Burmese women like her weren’t supposed to be involved with anything like this. Yet she was. The message should have waited and she should have kept her focus on the land excavation.
Instead, she checked the message. It couldn’t wait.
Ms. Q,
I am currently in the capital city of Yangon after a last minute change of plans. I was hoping we could meet in person, face to face. I’ll have a driver take you to my hotel when you’re ready.
Dinner starts at 8 pm and I have a big proposal for you.
If you’re looking for fun afterwards, there’s plenty of that too.
Much love,
I.W.
The initials ‘I.W’ stood for the Illusive Woman. For those in-the-know, the Illusive Woman was the person in charge of the secret operation. It had been rumored for years that this person was part of a royal family in Europe. But that was just gossip and nothing was ever proven. Besides, it didn’t matter. The services were impeccable. That was what’s important.
She stood there blushing with shame as she put her phone away. These messages always had a profound effect on her. She’d always feel the same rush. That sense of guilt and excitement.
Her mind swirled with what the ‘proposal’ was. It could have been anything but she had a feeling it was something business related. In the past, she had given people in the Agency pointers here and there about organization and strategy.
“Are you okay?” a Frenchman named Richard asked. “You’re looking a bit flush. There’s a soda in the van if you need sugar.”
She forced a smile. “I’m fine, I was just a little light-headed for a moment.”
“We’ll be having lunch soon. That should do the trick.”
“It will, I’m fine. I didn’t eat much and we had a busy morning.”
He smiled and gestured to the van. “Let’s be on our way then.”
The small group of business people went to their van and traveled down the dirt road to a nearby town. They ate a local meal of chicken with garlic noodles, along with the famous tea leaf salad.
Naturally, the conversation was focused on contracts, numbers, and estimates. She added to the conversation whenever she could, as she has much expertise in international importing and exporting.
But her mind was focused on the message.
The truth was, she had last rendered the services of the Agency a few months ago when she was on a trip to France to meet with investors. Since then, she swore she’d never contact these people again. As sweet and lovely as they all were, it was too much of a vice for a cultured woman like herself. The shame felt like a burden which constantly grew with each session.
She tried focusing on her noodles and keeping up with the important conversations at the table. To great effect, she was able to act like everything was natural. Her input was invaluable and no one had the slightest idea that sex was on her mind.
***
It was 4 pm when she arrived back to the capital city of Yangon. Like many in Burma, she still lived with her family, even though she was a woman in her mid 40’s. She cared for her parents and she lived with her two brothers who ran a nearby restaurant.
She took a quick nap after catching up with her family. By 5:30, she prepared for the night out, telling her family that she was having dinner with visiting associates from Europe; it was technically true.
The outfit she decided on was a blend between East and West. She wore a htamein, which was a traditional Burmese dress to cover her legs. It had vibrant and colorful patterns displayed. For her top, she wore a western style buttoned up blouse. It was thin, since the weather was hot. Sandals were on her bare feet.
Between that and her elegantly done makeup and hair, not many people could have believed that this was the same woman who had just been in the jungle that very same morning.
A driver had picked her up and taken her to the 5-star hotel. At a glance, Ms. Q looked like a woman who could easily be apart of the government or the country’s social elite. Inwardly, she was a mess. The closer the car had taken her to the hotel, the more nervous she became.
She felt tense meeting the Illusive Woman, whoever that lady was. And she felt like she was breaking an oath to herself, that she should be a proper and decent woman and stop rendering these services.
Her inner-desire won. It always did. All her life she was the respectable ‘good woman’ for herself and for her family. Her reputation and family name meant everything.
If anyone deserved a vice, it was her. But was it really a vice? She wondered. Things were changing in Asia and the mood was generally shifting towards sexual liberation. In a place like Burma, the pace was dramatically slower. She prided herself on being a worldly and enlightened woman. Surely her side affairs were consistent with the woman she prided herself on being.
The driver had dropped her off at the front of the hotel and the staff greeted her warmly. She went down in the elevator to the spa area, where their private meeting would be held. There were different rooms for massages, hot tubs, and whatever treatment a person could need.
Ms. Q went down the short hallway and there was a private facility with a small pool and a hot tub. Her heart was pounding, wondering if she’d see anything wayward going on. Instead, there was silence. The area was mostly dim and the pool was brightly lit to create a romantic atmosphere.
“Do you mind that I’m still in the hot tub?” a feminine voice said from behind.
Turning around, Ms. Q saw a young blonde woman, probably in her early 30’s, sitting casually in a tub that was on the floor level. There were bright lights in the tub and it was obvious the woman was naked.
This was the Illusive Woman! Her hair was wet and slicked back. Her hair was so blonde that it looked golden.
More importantly, it seemed that the rumor was true. This woman was part of a royal family in Europe and was occasionally featured in the tabloids, but Ms. Q didn’t dare to bring that up. This organization was based on secrecy and trust.
“We can talk however you’d like,” Ms. Q replied. “I am at your full service.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the Illusive Woman.”
She laughed. “Thank you. That’s lovely.”
As it turned out, the Illusive Woman had a girlish charm that was both disarming and strangely seductive. It was far from what Ms. Q had expected; she expected the Agency to be run by a hard nosed business woman.
“You’re very beautiful,” Ms. Q said in admiration.
“Am I?”
“You obviously are.”
“I also think you’re beautiful, Ms. Q. Very beautiful. I love women from Burma. I love women everywhere. But that’s not the point of this meeting.”
Ms. Q felt butterflies in her stomach. “You can tell me anything. It’s an honor to meet you. I’ve heard many great things about you, how you give to charity. I do a lot of charity work as well.”
“I know. I know everything about you, Ms. Q. That’s part of the reason I wanted to have this private meeting with you. You have a good heart. It matches your beauty and intelligence.”
“That’s flattering.”
The Illusive Woman smiled. “I’m going to stand up. As you can see, I’m naked. Will that bother you?”
“Never.”
“Will you serve me?”
A feeling of being frozen came over Ms. Q in an instant. Had this turned sexual already? She wondered if the powerful woman just summoned her here to become a sex pet.
Either way, it was an invitation worth taking.
“How would you like me to serve?” Ms. Q asked.
“Get a towel and dry my body. Will you do that?”
“Of course I will.”
Standing up, the Illusive Woman had no shame. Why should she? Her skin was like silk and her pink nipples looked delicious. She stood there for a long moment while water dripped from her body.
It was nudity in its purest form. This was a woman who was in touch with her own sexuality and had the confidence to share her beauty with others.
Ms. Q watched with lustful eyes. This was the reason she was so fond of the services of the Agency. This was the place where she could see other naked women in the flesh.
Deep down, Ms. Q wondered if she’d be lucky enough to eventually play with this royal heiress. One could only dream.
“Well?” the Illusive woman asked playfully. “Are you going to get me a towel?”
“Of course.”
Once a prominent business woman, Ms. Q had been reduced to fetching a nearby towel. She did so quickly, like a puppy. She opened the towel and approached the hot tub, getting a closer look at the naked body standing before her.
“It’s a bad habit,” the Illusive Woman giggled, stepping out of the hot tub towards the open towel. “I love making rich people become my servants. Sorry about that, my sweets.”
Ms. Q pursed her lips and was embarrassed that this naked woman had put her in such a humble role. It was also flattering and extremely arousing to be called ‘my sweets’ by an heiress.
“Are you sure you want me to dry your body?” Ms. Q asked as the naked woman approached the towel.
“If I ask for something, I want it. Yes, I’m a spoiled brat. Always have been, always will be.”
“There aren’t many spoiled brats in this country. But I’ll make an exception for you.”
Ms. Q meant what she said, bringing the towel around the naked heiress and draping it around the wet body. With firm hands, she used the towel to rub the warm water from the bare figure. With her eyes, she studied every curve and angle from the milky white body. She also studied the pink nipples up close.
With her hands, she took every opportunity to brush up against the firm body and smooth skin. She also took great care not to offend when she was drying off the small breasts, butt, and crotch area. It seemed as though it was titillating for both of them.
“Such quality service,” the Illusive woman said warmly. “You can toss the towel in the bin.”
The heiress stepped away from the towel, completely naked.
“Would you like your clothes? Or a bathrobe at least?”
Ms. Q instantly felt like a fool, the way she was suddenly acting like a maid or this young woman’s mother. All her years being a busy career woman, she had been reduced to this. Consensually and by her own will. She had fallen under the spell of this naked blonde. She enjoyed doing so.
“I’ll let my body finish drying naturally,” the Illusive Woman said, prancing around barefoot, this time by the pool area. “I think it’s time we got to the point. Do you want to take a guess, first?”
Ms. Q thought for a moment. “I’ve been a loyal customer for years and you wish to reward me to an experience alongside you. Or perhaps you were in the mood for an Asian woman since you’re in Burma, and you want me to sexually service you.”
“Kind of close. But you’re way off.”
“I’d like to know the answer.”
“I want you to become the new boss,” the Illusive Woman said with a bright expression on her face. “The truth is, I’ve taken this venture as far as it can go. I don’t have the acumen that you have. At this point, the Agency is better off with a business-minded leader to take charge of things. That would be you.”
Almost instantly, Ms. Q wanted to give a polite laugh, but it never came out. She was stunned. A job offer was simply the last thing she had expected this evening, let alone for the top spot of a lesbian sex agency.
But she knew the Illusive Woman was serious about this. Why else would the beautiful heiress make such a serious offer, unless it hadn’t already been carefully thought out?
“I travel a lot,” Ms. Q said as a short reply, which was the first thing that popped into her head.
“Which is why you’d be perfect. You’re worldly, much like our client base. You understand women. You can connect with people. You enjoy our services. Most importantly, you’re a business genius as far as I’m concerned.”
“I deal with trade, mining, resources. Not with…” Her voice trailed off.
“Lesbian sex?” the Illusive Woman answered. “Are you afraid to admit to yourself that you enjoy pleasure? Does it still make you ashamed? That’s what I’ve heard from the women who’ve served you.”
Ms. Q changed the subject. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about running the Agency.”
“It’s easy. There are managers who do most of the work. You just lead and be the beautiful — and anonymous — figurehead of the group. Would you like to think it over?”
“What you’re asking me to do is far from who I am.”
“Can I help convince you?” the Illusive Woman asked. “I can tell you’re interested, or at least a part of you.”
“Sure. You can try.”
At the corner by the pool, there was a small desk set up with two chairs. They sat together and reviewed the myriad of documents; everything from flow charts, to financial figures, to operational strategies.
Ms. Q was still wearing her wonderful attire and the young heiress was comfortable sitting there naked. While quickly reading and studying things, Ms. Q couldn’t help but take little peeks at those dainty pink nipples every so often.
They must have talked for nearly an hour before they came to terms.
And through it all, what stood out in the mind of Ms. Q was the ability to make a difference, however big or small, in whatever way. To be a leader. To be someone who could help others get in touch with their sexuality, because that’s the essence of life, isn’t it?
She waffled back and forth through her passions and her insecurities before finally making a firm decision.
“I’d like to lead for an interim period,” Ms. Q said, sitting with her back straight as if she were in a board meeting. “Let’s say, 6 months at the most. Then I’ll decide if I want the job permanently.”
The Illusive Woman smiled. “That sounds fine.”
“What will you do without the Agency?”
“I have plenty of other fun hobbies. All I ask is for special perks. I’ve become accustomed to certain things and I’m afraid I can’t live without them.”
“What would you like?” Ms. Q asked.
“I need my pussy eaten at least three times a week; I’ll return the favor, as expected. I need a full body massage twice a week. And I want a strap-on session once a week; receiving end. Variety is a requirement. I always need a new lady and I prefer dark skin. Told you I’m a spoiled brat.”
Hearing this naked heiress speak so brazenly about the sex acts she wants was strangely comforting to Ms. Q. It made it feel like women were allowed to have anything without shame.
“I’m sure that can be accommodated,” Ms. Q said in a professional manner. “To my understanding, most of the employees of the Agency are in Europe.”
“I travel everywhere though. It’s a global service and you understand international affairs, which is why I like you for this job.”
“Bold choice, if I may say so.”
“Speaking of global,” the Illusive Woman said. “Do you want to know why I insisted on coming here to Burma, instead of meeting you in Europe?”
“A vacation?”
“Kind of. But I also adore the spiritual aspects of this country. You know, I’ve had many blessings here. I’m quite superstitious. It’s served me well, and hopefully, it will be useful for you.”
The breath was sucked out of the lungs of Ms. Q. There was no mistaking it, she knew exactly what the Illusive Woman had in mind, who was biting her lower lip in the most sultry of ways.
“It never hurts,” Ms. Q said, almost in a gulp.
And like that, she understood what she was getting herself into.
***
Some of the guests in the banquet hall were local women, most were affluent women from around Asia, and the rest were from Western countries. Their private little conversations immediately ended the moment the royal heiress, now wearing a white gown and heels, entered with the soon-to-be new boss of this organization.
Ms. Q had never felt so powerful as she walked alongside the heiress, holding hands, and was able to command the full attention of everyone in the room. This is what royalty feels like, she thought.
But at the same time, she wasn’t kidding herself either. She knew this would be hard. She knew it would be a challenge. She knew it would be something she’d never forget, for better or worse.
To get her status in life, she had to work hard, use her brain, and struggle relentlessly. Stress was normal to her. It was the price she paid so that her entire family could have a great life. So she could be a woman with some influence and a name.
Now, to become the leader of this Agency, she was willing to make the same sacrifice, but in a much different way. Whatever that would be.
The Illusive Woman called everyone to their seats, that a new leader would be named, and that appetizers would soon be served before a delicious main course meal.
“I’ve chosen my successor,” the heiress told the exclusive group. “Long may she reign. May she be blessed. May we look after her. I’ve chosen carefully and she has agreed.”
It was a defining moment for the Agency and everyone seemed to know what was going to happen. Ms. Q stood still as the Illusive Woman gave a short speech about the importance of change. How growth is always necessary. Then of course, her reasoning for choosing the new boss.
Women in the audience expressed their agreement with short nods and lustful, wandering eyes that sifted through Ms. Q’s body.
It was a mesmerizing experience to stand there and be admired, and then the Illusive Woman whispered in her ear.
“This is where things get exciting.”
With a snap of her fingers, the royal heiress summoned four hotel employees to serve the appetizers. One woman pushed a cart which had plenty of laphet thoke, or tea leaf salad as it’s called in English, while another woman pushed a small shrine on another cart.
These employees had been with the hotel for years. Ms. Q had said ‘hello’ to them on plenty of occasions whenever she visited this hotel. Some were mature in age, some were much younger. They were all lovely women.
Dressed in buttoned-up hotel uniforms on top, they wore their traditional Burmese htameins dresses to cover their legs, and they were barefoot on the carpet. It seemed unusual given the official service, but it was a private event so it made sense that things would be a little different.
Once in position, the four employees unbuttoned their tops, removing their uniforms, but they kept their htameins around their waist to cover their legs. They were surprisingly at ease doing this, as if they had done this before, as if they weren’t as innocent as they appeared during work hours.
No one in the audience flinched at the bare breasts. They were used to this too, it seemed. The breasts were in different shapes and sizes. The mature women had breasts that seemed longer and sagged. The younger women were more perky and upturned. Some of their nipples were light brown, some had dark nipples.