Undercover Mistress

The first time he seduced me, I realized that being his mistress was so much more fun than being an F.B.I. agent. The second time we made love, it was so awesome that he made me forget my former identity altogether. I moved into his home.

And it got even better when I found the door to his secret sex palace. “You’re not ready to go inside,” he said. I insisted but he shook his head. “Once you see what’s inside, you can’t unsee it.” He had his key out, pointing at the lock. His eyes were dark, brooking, clearly trying to scare me.

“I’m not afraid,” I said, even though I was.

“Once you go inside, you’re agreeing to be a part of everything that’s in there.”

I was too frightened to speak but I pressed my thumb to my pointing finger, as if I was holding a key, pointed towards the lock, and made a twisting motion with my hand.