"That was thoroughly unpleasant!" said Anne, as she and General Gordon Harris walked back to their limousine.

"Wasn't all that bad," said Gordon, as they got into the limousine.

"I may be a little more moderate than people like Monica Goldberg, general. But I have my limits over how much fascist imagery I can stomach," warned Anne.

"Aaron Zakhrov isn't fascist. He's more of a connoisseur of certain aesthetics. I don't see that many fascists or Nazis dressing up their women in sleek black leather blazer and skirt combos, or any military hard-ass mandating a minimum instead of maximum heel height," chuckled Gordon.

"Oh yeah? He's more dangerous than any of you think! That aesthetic he sells is seductive! Especially to young impressionable women! This damn zone is reverting to the 1940s! Just with better clothes and services!" ranted Anne.

"Hey, he isn't exactly advocating for the reversal of women's lib. Sirius Software actually employs quite a lot of women. Not to mention that DuPont guy whose supposed to be the Sirius Zone government liaison is the largest employer of women in the damn state," said Gordon.

"Wait a second. Are you telling me that DuPont of DuPont Hospitality is the damn liaison?!" asked Anne, incredulously.

"Yeah, that's the guy," said Gordon, taken aback.

"That little weasel tried to push through legislation that walked back the ban on high heel mandates! He had the gall to justify it as an engineering problem and not a health one, based on some bogus study!" snarled Anne.

"Um, haven't you heard? That study was legit. High heels designed by The Feminine Professional have been orthopedically certified for 12-hour wear without adverse foot health effects. Heck, the army has started to roll them out for our female dress uniforms," said Gordon.

"And you're telling me this now?!" thundered Anne.

"Hey, the only reason I found out, is because I gotta sign the damn requisition forms," shot back Gordon.

"Ugh! This is worse than I thought! Well, as long as I'm president, you're not issuing stilettos to army personnel on my watch!" declared Anne.

"But we-" began Gordon.

"That's a direct order from your commander-in-chief soldier!" snapped Anne.

"Yes, ma'am," said Gordon through gritted teeth.

----

"Well General, that was quite illuminating," said Aaron over a secure link.

"Yeah well, I let slip that the Army is rolling out those new heels of yours, and she went ballistic," grumbled Gordon.

"Well if you're cancelling the contract, I understand," said Aaron.

"Hell no! I've been chomping at the bit to get my aides strutting in those tech marvels of yours!" said Gordon.

"Well, you'll still need to hide it from her," chuckled Aaron.

"That's easily done. She ain't about to run around with a damn measuring tape during a parade," snorted Gordon.

"All right then General. Let's make sure she sticks to her end of the bargain," said Aaron.

"And you better stick to yours. I'd rather not have the excitement of you wiping out half a city's worth of people on the hunch that they were domestic terrorists," said Gordon.

"Then keep those infestations out," said Aaron.

"Yeah, yeah we will. And even if you get them, just give us a damn call first. We're in charge of Boston, you can pick up whatever crosses into the Sirius Zone," said Gordon.

"Yes, that I will," said Aaron.

----

"All right Ivan. It's just you, me and this punching bag here," said Father Abel, as he strapped on a pair of heavy boxing gloves on Ivan's hands.

Ivan hefted the gloves experimentally, feeling their weight.

Father Abel stepped back and gestured to the punching bag.

Ivan stepped forward and threw a few tentative punches at the bag, getting a feel for the gloves.

He quickly found a rhythm, the weight of the gloves adding a satisfying resistance to his strikes.

"Don't just punch. Get those feelings out," encouraged Father Abel.

"I don't know what the hell I saw in Annette all those years ago!" started Ivan, as he punched the bag harder.

"Even back then she was opinionated and stubborn! At first, it was stimulating, but after a while, it just wore me down!" he continued, as he unleashed a flurry of punches.

"Always making everything out to be a damn gender war! Then came Aaron, and it all went to shit!" he shouted, as he pounded the bag with renewed vigor.

"And now, she goes and hooks up with that androgynous monstrosity, and is letting that dangerous ideology poison my princess! Mikaela!" he howled, pounding the bag with tears in his eyes.

He finally sank to the ground exhausted.

"Listen to me, Ivan," said Father Abel, kneeling beside him. "You've held a candle for Annette long enough. It's time for you to move on. And as for Mikaela, you know that she has a good head on her shoulders. Annette's indoctrination attempts won't work on her,"

"I suppose you're right," sighed Ivan.

He pulled off the boxing gloves and tossed them aside.

"Thanks, Father. I'll be going home now," he said.

"Remember. Move on. I have it on good authority, that there's a literal harem of women vying for your affections out there," chuckled Father Abel.

"You exaggerate," said Ivan with a faint smile.

"Hey, I'm the one who has to sit in a confessional and hear the most salacious things that make me question my calling," shot back Father Abel.

"Fine, fine. I'll start putting myself out there," said Ivan, heading for the showers.

----

Ivan stepped out of his BMW M5 and made his way to the front door of his house.

"Professor Zakhrov! Welcome back!" called out Kristen Ford, as she came from across the street to greet him.

"Hello Kristen, I'm not exactly your professor anymore," said Ivan, eyeing Kristen's outfit of a sleek black skirt-suit and stiletto pumps.

"But you'll always be Professor Zakhrov to me," said Kristen with a giggle, blushing at Ivan's gaze.

"Well, would you like to come in? I haven't had dinner yet," invited Ivan.

"I'd love to," said Kristen, as she followed Ivan into the house.

Ivan walked into the kitchen, but Kristen held his hand to stop him.

"Let me cook for you, Professor," she said softly.

The feeling of Kristen's soft hand in his, made the beast that Ivan kept under tight control roar out in a deep hunger.

Before he could stop himself, he had pulled Kristen into his arms.

Kristin's breath hitched, and her heart pounded as she was pulled close to Ivan, their lips mere centimeters apart.

She could feel him winning back his self-control, and she knew that if she didn't act fast, she might lose this chance.

With a sudden burst of courage, Kristen closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

Ivan's eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly responded, wrapping his arms around her.

The kiss deepened, their bodies pressed close together as they explored each other's mouths with growing desire.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally broke apart, both breathless and flushed.

"That was..." Ivan began, but Kristen cut him off with a finger to his lips.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time, Professor," she whispered.

Ivan captured her lips again, this time with a fierce hunger, as he lifted her off the ground and carried her upstairs the bedroom.

He threw her onto the bed, and pounced on top of her.

"I must warn you, Ms. Ford. It's been very a long time since I've felt the touch of a woman," he murmured against her lips.

"Th-this is my first time, Professor. Please be gentle," she stammered, her cheeks flushed.

Ivan smiled at her innocence, and began to slowly undress her, savoring every inch of her body as he revealed it.

Kristen shivered with anticipation as Ivan's hands roamed over her curves.

He finally shed his own clothes, and positioned himself above her.

"Are you ready, Ms. Ford?" he asked softly.

"Y-yes, Professor," she whispered.

With that, Ivan slowly thrust his throbbing manhood into her tight, warm embrace.

"Aaahh!" Kristen gasped, as she felt him penetrate her.

Ivan kept his movements slow and gentle, fighting down the urge to ravage her with an iron will.

Kristen sensed his restraint, which sent a fresh shiver of desire through her.

Her small hands gripped his broad shoulders as he began to move within her.

Ivan dipped his head and took one of her hardened nipples into his mouth, sucking on it gently.

That sent a shockwave of pleasure through Kristen's body, and she arched her back, pressing herself closer to him.

"Professor... I'm going to..." she moaned, her body trembling with pleasure.

Ivan increased his pace slightly, his own body nearing the edge.

With a final thrust, they both climaxed, Kristen crying out as waves of pleasure washed over her, and Ivan groaned as he released himself inside her.

They collapsed onto the bed, panting and sweating.

Ivan rolled Kristen on top of him, holding her close.

"That was incredible, Professor," she whispered, resting her head on his chest.

"Likewise, Ms. Ford," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Exhaustion claimed Ivan, and he soon drifted off to sleep with Kristen still in his arms.

Kristen lay awake in his embrace, a warm feeling spreading through her.

"I need to show him what he's been missing out on," she thought mischievously, a sly smile playing on her lips.

She gently slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Ivan, and went into the en-suite bathroom to clean herself up.

After freshening up, she returned to the bedroom, where Ivan was still sound asleep.

She gently wiped his crotch clean with a warm, damp cloth, removing any remnants of their passionate encounter, before slipping back into bed beside him.

She pulled the covers up around them, snuggling close to him, and promptly fell asleep.

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