Podcasts about Cocksucker

Earthling and Venusian are marooned.Based on the post by x sociate23, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Space Cadet Curt Cockman stood at rigid attention so that his commanding officer could conduct her rigorous inspection. Captain Bunny Bendover (pronounced Benover, for the D was silent;) was a stern but fair Commanding Officer. She also happened to be hotter than a coronal run around Sol.Tall, blonde and shapely in her silver Space Command uniform; she was a total dick magnet. She walked stiffly around the much taller cadet, eying his well-muscled physique beneath his skintight uniform. As usual, not so much as a hair out of place. At twenty-three and fresh out of the Space Ranger Academy, the ruggedly handsome Cockman was a poster child for that much venerated group of space-faring men and women.As the captain came to stand in front of him, it took all of Cockman's concentration not to look down at the mostly unzipped front of her waistcoat officer's uniform. The twin swells of her tits hung just below his gaze, which never wavered as she stared him down with her piercing blue eyes. It was no accident how she chose to wear her wardrobe. Nothing like a nice set of tits to test the discipline of a bunch of horny wanna-be spacemen."Present arm!" she belted out, her bosom bouncing slightly as she did so.The cadet whipped out his ‘pistol', for inspection, with military precision. The captain reached down, running a gloved finger along the shaft of the weapon. The white finger was free of smudges. Taking hold of the handle, she pivoted it from side to side to check for any unnatural curving. She lifted it up to check the magazine, tilted it down to check the sights. Satisfied, she knelt down and placed the bulbous barrel between her lips.Cockman closed his eyes as his superior's superb mouth began to 'check the charge on his ray gun'. Bunny Benover hadn't gotten the nickname of Cap'n Cocksucker for nothing. Cadets who came under her command would also cum on her command.Those in her unit said she found a penis preference for she would get their units "inspected" several times a week; and Cockman was one such enlistee. Her frequent fellatio fraternization was unofficially tolerated because she was the daughter of a well-known general. It was also a boost to morale and cadet recruitment. Many young men would sign on for a hitch, just for a chance at receiving a blowjob bonus courtesy of the busty blonde captain.Cockman chanced a glance down to watch the master a work."Eyes fwunt, Cabet!" she mumbled around her mouthful. For the next several minutes, the only sounds in the room were the ticking of a wall chronometer and sucking noises. At length she released him long enough to gasp out, "At ease!"Cockman went in parade rest stance with his feet shoulder-width apart, and hands clasped behind his back. Now they could both enjoy the inspection and he looked down. He was rewarded with the sight of her red lips raking down the length of his cock. She looked up at him, her blue eyes now twinkling with lust as she began to suck him harder, her cheeks hallowed and lips stretched around his girth. Her gripped tightened as she practically fucked her face with his cock. She backed off gasping, a strand of spit stringing from his tip to her lips."Enjoying your inspection?" she asked huskily, swirling her tongue around his head."Ye-Yes, Ma'am!" he gasped as she teased his tip."Well, I'm afraid this will be your last for a while," she sighed, sucking him for nearly a full minute before she continued, "You've been reassigned to a patrol squadron.""I understand, Ma'am," he answered, his voice a mix of excitement and disappointment. He had always dreamed of being a rocket pilot, but he was also going to miss getting his pipes cleaned on a regular basis."And since this will be our last session and your service..." she said, giving his cock an appreciative lick, "...has been exemplary, I've decided to give you a proper sendoff.""Not necessary, Ma'am. It has been an honor and a privilege to serve under your command.""Be that as it may, I believe you deserve a reward for service above and beyond the call of duty."Standing, she leaned up to shove her tongue in his mouth.To say that Cockman was surprised would have been the understatement of the twenty-second century. Despite the literal dozens of times she had blown him, she had never once kissed him or any other cadet, as far as he knew. Nevertheless, he responded as any healthy male would, by kissing her back, his hands encircling her waist to pull her closer.Her hands, meanwhile, reached to slowly unzip her tunic. When the zipper reached her navel, her sizable tits fell out of the flimsy garment. Breaking the kiss, she offered one to him and he took the ruddy nipple into his mouth, his tongue playing across the hardened tip. He reached up to caress and squeeze as he pulled more of her tender flesh in. Bunny ran her hands through his dark hair, moaning as he moved to mouth the other tit.Her manicured fingers tugged at the zipper of his jacket; he shrugged out of it as she fumbled with his belt, his lips still glued to her tits. His pants dropped in a heap around his heavy space boots. By now her tits were practically coated with his saliva, glistening in the bright overhead lighting.Pulling him up into a kiss, she quickly shed her own slacks. Cockman noted with a smile deep in the corners of his mouth that she had gone commando for the occasion as she shimmied her round ass onto the edge of the desk, a sweep of her arm clearing it so that she could lay back. Her legs spread out and up, invitingly; her hands rubbing up and down her inner thighs. Cockman could see she was already dripping as she addressed him."Drop and give me twenty, Cadet!" she said breathlessly.Cockman dropped to his knees, burying his face in her sex. He mouthed her puffy flesh, his tongue sinking deep inside her hole. She moaned, grabbing his head to force his face deeper. He began to finger her, first one digit, then two as his tongue slid across her clit in waves, pinging her radar over and over. His fingers hit her little red button and she howled like a 20th century air raid siren. Cockman kept going, his mouth and fingers flanking her trench line."Oh, God! Oh, eat my Twat, baby!" she hissed through clenched teeth, grinding her slit in his mouth. Her dirty talk turned him on and he redoubled his efforts, furiously fingering her, his teeth savagely pulling at her clit. She was writhing and screaming, cursing at him to eat her alive. At exactly the twenty minute mark, she commanded he stand down, her body still convulsing from his gratuitous feasting. She recovered, then sat up.As he stood, she leaned forward, and reached both hands around his neck then pulled him down to her, crushing her lips to his as she pulled him on top of her."Fuck me, Curt!" she begged. Cockman's arms were extended down to the surface of the desk. Captain Benover's legs were wrapped around his naked ass.Again, Cockman was surprised. He didn't think she knew he even had a first name, let alone what it was. He was also now fully aware of what it was he was being offered. As the name would suggest, Captain Cocksucker was pretty liberal with her mouth but was very conservative with her cunt. You could probably count on one hand the number of men who'd gotten to pound her Twat. Now Cockman was literally being allowed entrance into that illustrious group, and his cock stiffened further at the thought that he was about to bone the infamous Bunny Benover.He stood erect and slipped his hardness slowly into her soft folds, Bunny whimpering as he buried himself in her box. He began to pump gently, savoring her tight twat. His large cock seemed to stretch her hole as he stabbed into her a couple times forcefully. She pushed him back, now draping her legs over his shoulders as she sighed out a command."Double time, Cadet!"Grabbing her waist, Cockman began thrusting and was soon slamming into her, hard enough to make her tits bounce with each impact. He wrapped an arm around each thigh and used her legs to leverage firm thrust into her wet hot crotch. He spread her legs wide so he could look down, wanting a mental picture of his “Cockman's Brand Sausage” slipping into her sweet bun. The captain was grunting, squeezing and pinching her tits as the cadet bored her canal good.She pushed him off her and turned away. True to her namesake, she stood, then rotated and bent over the desk, reaching down to spread her labia with two fingers, signaling him for reentry. Cockman wasted no time in landing his missile back into her silo. Grasping her thick hips, he launched his warhead at her target repeatedly, tightly packing her torpedo tube for a good five minutes before fatigue set in.Feeling his cartridge firmly lodged in the chamber, he slowed his assault on her rearguard. He wanted to make this momentous mounting last. Bunny was wailing, his massive ICBM sending red alerts to her control center.After another ten minutes of giving her a D that was not silent, the urge to pop flare became too great. Per standing orders, he notified his C O of his pending need for extraction. Shoving him away, she slid off and sank to her knees, then spun around to swallow his now overly sensitive member. She slobbered his schlong, her blond head bouncing on his boner.Slipping off for a moment, she offered; "You wanna cum in my mouth, baby?" she cooed. It would be another first for Cockman."Uh huh!" he croaked, his legs trembling.She shifted into full slut mode, slamming his cock to the back of her throat. Taking hold of his ass, she gagged herself, coughed around his cock as it sank deeper still. He felt ignition, barely blurting out a warning as his booster rockets fired.Like the professional cocksucker she was, Bunny didn't bat an eyelash, sinfully swallowing his spaceman spunk. Cockman groaned as he emptied his balls into her guzzling gullet. Captain Benover slowly pulled him out of her throat just long enough to exhale, then draw another nasal breath. Then she pressed her mouth against his furry pelvis and took his rod beck down her throat again. This went on for a couple minutes, her tongue rubbing his frenulum rhythmically. She didn't cease her sucking until his thoroughly deflated dong fell from her sore lips.Cockman looked down at his cumslut of a commanding officer. A bead of seminal fluid trickled from her lips as she dreamily smiled up at him.'Man, the guys back in the barracks would never believe me', he thought to himself as she rose to kiss him full on the mouth. He could taste his jizz on her invasive tongue."Don't be a stranger, Cadet," she whispered, stroking his manhood once more.Cadet Cockman exited the office a couple of minutes later.A sandy haired sergeant sat in the anteroom. His hands shot from under the desk to hurriedly flip a switch on the vidphone on his desk. All the same, Cockman was still able to make out the split-second image of the interior of Bunny's office on the screen.'I'll have to ask for a copy of that tape,' he thought wickedly as he headed for the mess hall, suddenly ravenous.The Transfer.The reflective hull of the X-23 gleamed in the noonday sun as its launch platform was towed from the hangar, the parting doors giving the phallic-shaped spacecraft the suggestion of spreading the lips of a giant silver cunt. The ship measured sixty meters from tip to turbo booster, its fuselage nearly cylindrical for most of that length. Unlike most modern spacecraft, the X-23 was outfitted with a set of wings and tailfins. These would be useless in the airless vacuum of space but when combined with the powerful engines, the plane-like design would allow the craft to take off and land without requiring an orbital booster.It was also one of the first fighters equipped with a hyperspace drive. This addition meant that it could be more accurately classified as a starship, rather than a mere spaceship, since it could travel between distant stars without the need to be tied to a heavier cruiser or frigate.But the feature that truly made the X-23 stand out were the neat rows of studs along its fuselage. Each of these grapefruit-sized half spheres contained a small thruster and these could be fired in sequence to perform any number of precise maneuvers in the frictionless void of space. The egg-shaped cockpit where the two pilots sat only added to the ship's unofficial motto: 'Ribbed for her pleasure.'Cadet Cockman hung back a safe distance to watch the launch platform incline the craft to the required forty-five-degree angle. Soon it stood like a giant winged dildo ready to penetrate the wild blue yonder.Feeling a slap on the shoulder, Cockman turned to find Cadet Billy Haney standing next to him. The two had gone through the Academy together and Bill was now in charge of the ground crew for the flight squadron. It felt good for Cockman to know that his soon to be fighter was in good, if a bit neurotic, hands."How's it hanging', Cockman?" Bill said, shaking hands with the much taller man."Long, lean and to the left," Cockman deadpanned but then both of them burst into laughter at the inside joke."Ain't she a beauty?" beamed the other, gesturing to the ship. Cockman nodded knowingly."A fine ship if I ever saw one.""Ever fly her?""Only sim," Cockman admitted timidly."No worries, CC. She ain't much different from the twenty-two unless you count the jump drive. Besides, wasn't it you who bagged Sheila Neutrino our senior year? Anyone who can handle that hydrazine in heels can certainly handle this baby."Bill playfully punched in pal in the arm. The mention of Sheila brought up fond memories of giving her the 'Cockman Special' in the null-g simulator."Who's my co-pilot?" Cockman asked, shaking the image of zero-g jugs from his mind as a set of stairs was wheeled up to the spacecraft, "You met him yet?""Here she comes now, as a matter of fact," Bill said, staring at the far end of the tarmac."She?" Cockman asked, following his gaze.The approaching figure was still far enough away that the heat rising from the flattop distorted the image. As it grew closer, the curving waves stopped wavering and stayed curvy. She wore an outfit similar to Captain Benover but with the tunic fully zipped to the wide collar. In spite of that, the tight-fitting uniform could not conceal the fact that she was generously round in all the right places. She walked with a military cadence, her hips swaying and bosom bouncing slightly with each step. Cockman saw a cadet behind her nearly wreck the cargo mover he was driving, so intent was he in looking at what could only be assumed was a very nice ass.The advancing hottie was also different from Bunny in that instead of blond hair and tanned skin, this babe had blue skin and purple hair which was tied back into a tight regulation bun. A Venusian, Cockman realized. She had on mirrored aviators' glasses and as she neared, he peeped the lieutenant pips on her collar. Both he and Bill snapped to attention."As you were," she said as she reached up to remove the shades. The voice had an almost musical quality to it and Cockman remembered reading somewhere about Venusian vocal harmonies. He also noted that her fingers were partially webbed and had no nails. Her heart shaped mouth was as dark and full as a bushel of fresh blueberriesBut it was the eyes that really drew his attention. They were the type you got lost in, such a deep shade of green they looked like two emerald circlets floating in a clear blue sky."Cadet Cockman, I'd like to introduce you to Lieutenant  Eza LuNar," Bill said with the emphasis on 'nar', "She'll be your astrogator for the flight.""Ma'am," Cockman said, nodding. Those lovely green eyes looked him up and down, an unimpressed look on her bluish face."You are my pilot?" she harrumphed.'Oh boy', he thought as he said, "Yes, Ma'am.""How much flight time do you have, Cadet?" she asked indifferently."Over fifteen hundred hours, Ma'am." He wasn't about to tell her that some of that time was spent giving a new meaning to the term 'cockpit'. She eyed him up and down again, perhaps a bit differently this time, he noticed and then turned to Bill."Are we ready for a system check, Cadet?" she lisped."Ready as she'll ever be, Ma'am," he replied smartly.When the lieutenant turned her back of the pair to move towards the ship, Bill silently got Cockman's attention, making hour glass motions in the air with his hands as he mouthed the word 'wow!'. They followed after her and as they neared, Cockman spotted on the side of the cockpit a cartoon Venusian in a Pinup girl pose, riding side saddle on an even more conspicuously phallic shaped rocket. The string bikini she wore barely covered her overly large blue tits and she was winking suggestively as she saluted. He grimaced as he red the caption beneath: 'Feels so good even a Venus girl will like it!'Lieutenant  LuNar halted when she too noticed the caricature and glared at Bill, her green eyes sparking with anger."I'll have that removed at the next servicing Ma'am," he gulped."See that you do, Cadet," she hissed.They came to the foot of the stairs and Bill motioned for them to ascend. As was customary, the lieutenant went first with Cockman following a step or two behind her. He was okay with the arrangement since he gave me a chance to check out what was indeed a nice round ass as they climbed. Near the top of the stairs, the Venusian's heel came down on a smear of grease that had been carelessly left on a tread. Her foot slipped from under her and she fell back with a yelp of surprise.Cockman's strong arm shot out, catching the full weight of her beneath her shoulder blades, his left hand grasping the railing to keep them both from falling. Lieutenant  LuNar's flailing limbs wrapped around his neck. Their faces were very close and they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. From this close, he saw that her eyes were in fact not completely green but streaked with bands of gold. The pupils were also partially slitted, dilating as he looked into them."Tha-thank you, Cadet," she said breathlessly."My pleasure, Lieutenant."He smiled down at her and saw her skin darken, wondering if it were the Venusian equivalent of blushing. She seemed to all at once remember where they were and composed herself as Cockman helped her to her feet."See that you have these stairs cleaned properly, Cadet!" she yelled at Bill."Yes, Ma'am!" he replied with a crisp salute.Once the lieutenant was safely onboard, Cockman turned to Bill to wave farewell. The cocky cadet returned the gesture before leaning over to emulate the former's dramatic rescue, complete with exaggerated kissy faces and tongue action. Cockman just shook his head, giving his buddy the one finger salute as he ducked into the hatch.

Earthling and Venusian are marooned.Based on the post by x sociate23, in 3 parts. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Space Cadet Curt Cockman stood at rigid attention so that his commanding officer could conduct her rigorous inspection. Captain Bunny Bendover (pronounced Benover, for the D was silent;) was a stern but fair Commanding Officer. She also happened to be hotter than a coronal run around Sol.Tall, blonde and shapely in her silver Space Command uniform; she was a total dick magnet. She walked stiffly around the much taller cadet, eying his well-muscled physique beneath his skintight uniform. As usual, not so much as a hair out of place. At twenty-three and fresh out of the Space Ranger Academy, the ruggedly handsome Cockman was a poster child for that much venerated group of space-faring men and women.As the captain came to stand in front of him, it took all of Cockman's concentration not to look down at the mostly unzipped front of her waistcoat officer's uniform. The twin swells of her tits hung just below his gaze, which never wavered as she stared him down with her piercing blue eyes. It was no accident how she chose to wear her wardrobe. Nothing like a nice set of tits to test the discipline of a bunch of horny wanna-be spacemen."Present arm!" she belted out, her bosom bouncing slightly as she did so.The cadet whipped out his ‘pistol', for inspection, with military precision. The captain reached down, running a gloved finger along the shaft of the weapon. The white finger was free of smudges. Taking hold of the handle, she pivoted it from side to side to check for any unnatural curving. She lifted it up to check the magazine, tilted it down to check the sights. Satisfied, she knelt down and placed the bulbous barrel between her lips.Cockman closed his eyes as his superior's superb mouth began to 'check the charge on his ray gun'. Bunny Benover hadn't gotten the nickname of Cap'n Cocksucker for nothing. Cadets who came under her command would also cum on her command.Those in her unit said she found a penis preference for she would get their units "inspected" several times a week; and Cockman was one such enlistee. Her frequent fellatio fraternization was unofficially tolerated because she was the daughter of a well-known general. It was also a boost to morale and cadet recruitment. Many young men would sign on for a hitch, just for a chance at receiving a blowjob bonus courtesy of the busty blonde captain.Cockman chanced a glance down to watch the master a work."Eyes fwunt, Cabet!" she mumbled around her mouthful. For the next several minutes, the only sounds in the room were the ticking of a wall chronometer and sucking noises. At length she released him long enough to gasp out, "At ease!"Cockman went in parade rest stance with his feet shoulder-width apart, and hands clasped behind his back. Now they could both enjoy the inspection and he looked down. He was rewarded with the sight of her red lips raking down the length of his cock. She looked up at him, her blue eyes now twinkling with lust as she began to suck him harder, her cheeks hallowed and lips stretched around his girth. Her gripped tightened as she practically fucked her face with his cock. She backed off gasping, a strand of spit stringing from his tip to her lips."Enjoying your inspection?" she asked huskily, swirling her tongue around his head."Ye-Yes, Ma'am!" he gasped as she teased his tip."Well, I'm afraid this will be your last for a while," she sighed, sucking him for nearly a full minute before she continued, "You've been reassigned to a patrol squadron.""I understand, Ma'am," he answered, his voice a mix of excitement and disappointment. He had always dreamed of being a rocket pilot, but he was also going to miss getting his pipes cleaned on a regular basis."And since this will be our last session and your service..." she said, giving his cock an appreciative lick, "...has been exemplary, I've decided to give you a proper sendoff.""Not necessary, Ma'am. It has been an honor and a privilege to serve under your command.""Be that as it may, I believe you deserve a reward for service above and beyond the call of duty."Standing, she leaned up to shove her tongue in his mouth.To say that Cockman was surprised would have been the understatement of the twenty-second century. Despite the literal dozens of times she had blown him, she had never once kissed him or any other cadet, as far as he knew. Nevertheless, he responded as any healthy male would, by kissing her back, his hands encircling her waist to pull her closer.Her hands, meanwhile, reached to slowly unzip her tunic. When the zipper reached her navel, her sizable tits fell out of the flimsy garment. Breaking the kiss, she offered one to him and he took the ruddy nipple into his mouth, his tongue playing across the hardened tip. He reached up to caress and squeeze as he pulled more of her tender flesh in. Bunny ran her hands through his dark hair, moaning as he moved to mouth the other tit.Her manicured fingers tugged at the zipper of his jacket; he shrugged out of it as she fumbled with his belt, his lips still glued to her tits. His pants dropped in a heap around his heavy space boots. By now her tits were practically coated with his saliva, glistening in the bright overhead lighting.Pulling him up into a kiss, she quickly shed her own slacks. Cockman noted with a smile deep in the corners of his mouth that she had gone commando for the occasion as she shimmied her round ass onto the edge of the desk, a sweep of her arm clearing it so that she could lay back. Her legs spread out and up, invitingly; her hands rubbing up and down her inner thighs. Cockman could see she was already dripping as she addressed him."Drop and give me twenty, Cadet!" she said breathlessly.Cockman dropped to his knees, burying his face in her sex. He mouthed her puffy flesh, his tongue sinking deep inside her hole. She moaned, grabbing his head to force his face deeper. He began to finger her, first one digit, then two as his tongue slid across her clit in waves, pinging her radar over and over. His fingers hit her little red button and she howled like a 20th century air raid siren. Cockman kept going, his mouth and fingers flanking her trench line."Oh, God! Oh, eat my Twat, baby!" she hissed through clenched teeth, grinding her slit in his mouth. Her dirty talk turned him on and he redoubled his efforts, furiously fingering her, his teeth savagely pulling at her clit. She was writhing and screaming, cursing at him to eat her alive. At exactly the twenty minute mark, she commanded he stand down, her body still convulsing from his gratuitous feasting. She recovered, then sat up.As he stood, she leaned forward, and reached both hands around his neck then pulled him down to her, crushing her lips to his as she pulled him on top of her."Fuck me, Curt!" she begged. Cockman's arms were extended down to the surface of the desk. Captain Benover's legs were wrapped around his naked ass.Again, Cockman was surprised. He didn't think she knew he even had a first name, let alone what it was. He was also now fully aware of what it was he was being offered. As the name would suggest, Captain Cocksucker was pretty liberal with her mouth but was very conservative with her cunt. You could probably count on one hand the number of men who'd gotten to pound her Twat. Now Cockman was literally being allowed entrance into that illustrious group, and his cock stiffened further at the thought that he was about to bone the infamous Bunny Benover.He stood erect and slipped his hardness slowly into her soft folds, Bunny whimpering as he buried himself in her box. He began to pump gently, savoring her tight twat. His large cock seemed to stretch her hole as he stabbed into her a couple times forcefully. She pushed him back, now draping her legs over his shoulders as she sighed out a command."Double time, Cadet!"Grabbing her waist, Cockman began thrusting and was soon slamming into her, hard enough to make her tits bounce with each impact. He wrapped an arm around each thigh and used her legs to leverage firm thrust into her wet hot crotch. He spread her legs wide so he could look down, wanting a mental picture of his “Cockman's Brand Sausage” slipping into her sweet bun. The captain was grunting, squeezing and pinching her tits as the cadet bored her canal good.She pushed him off her and turned away. True to her namesake, she stood, then rotated and bent over the desk, reaching down to spread her labia with two fingers, signaling him for reentry. Cockman wasted no time in landing his missile back into her silo. Grasping her thick hips, he launched his warhead at her target repeatedly, tightly packing her torpedo tube for a good five minutes before fatigue set in.Feeling his cartridge firmly lodged in the chamber, he slowed his assault on her rearguard. He wanted to make this momentous mounting last. Bunny was wailing, his massive ICBM sending red alerts to her control center.After another ten minutes of giving her a D that was not silent, the urge to pop flare became too great. Per standing orders, he notified his C O of his pending need for extraction. Shoving him away, she slid off and sank to her knees, then spun around to swallow his now overly sensitive member. She slobbered his schlong, her blond head bouncing on his boner.Slipping off for a moment, she offered; "You wanna cum in my mouth, baby?" she cooed. It would be another first for Cockman."Uh huh!" he croaked, his legs trembling.She shifted into full slut mode, slamming his cock to the back of her throat. Taking hold of his ass, she gagged herself, coughed around his cock as it sank deeper still. He felt ignition, barely blurting out a warning as his booster rockets fired.Like the professional cocksucker she was, Bunny didn't bat an eyelash, sinfully swallowing his spaceman spunk. Cockman groaned as he emptied his balls into her guzzling gullet. Captain Benover slowly pulled him out of her throat just long enough to exhale, then draw another nasal breath. Then she pressed her mouth against his furry pelvis and took his rod beck down her throat again. This went on for a couple minutes, her tongue rubbing his frenulum rhythmically. She didn't cease her sucking until his thoroughly deflated dong fell from her sore lips.Cockman looked down at his cumslut of a commanding officer. A bead of seminal fluid trickled from her lips as she dreamily smiled up at him.'Man, the guys back in the barracks would never believe me', he thought to himself as she rose to kiss him full on the mouth. He could taste his jizz on her invasive tongue."Don't be a stranger, Cadet," she whispered, stroking his manhood once more.Cadet Cockman exited the office a couple of minutes later.A sandy haired sergeant sat in the anteroom. His hands shot from under the desk to hurriedly flip a switch on the vidphone on his desk. All the same, Cockman was still able to make out the split-second image of the interior of Bunny's office on the screen.'I'll have to ask for a copy of that tape,' he thought wickedly as he headed for the mess hall, suddenly ravenous.The Transfer.The reflective hull of the X-23 gleamed in the noonday sun as its launch platform was towed from the hangar, the parting doors giving the phallic-shaped spacecraft the suggestion of spreading the lips of a giant silver cunt. The ship measured sixty meters from tip to turbo booster, its fuselage nearly cylindrical for most of that length. Unlike most modern spacecraft, the X-23 was outfitted with a set of wings and tailfins. These would be useless in the airless vacuum of space but when combined with the powerful engines, the plane-like design would allow the craft to take off and land without requiring an orbital booster.It was also one of the first fighters equipped with a hyperspace drive. This addition meant that it could be more accurately classified as a starship, rather than a mere spaceship, since it could travel between distant stars without the need to be tied to a heavier cruiser or frigate.But the feature that truly made the X-23 stand out were the neat rows of studs along its fuselage. Each of these grapefruit-sized half spheres contained a small thruster and these could be fired in sequence to perform any number of precise maneuvers in the frictionless void of space. The egg-shaped cockpit where the two pilots sat only added to the ship's unofficial motto: 'Ribbed for her pleasure.'Cadet Cockman hung back a safe distance to watch the launch platform incline the craft to the required forty-five-degree angle. Soon it stood like a giant winged dildo ready to penetrate the wild blue yonder.Feeling a slap on the shoulder, Cockman turned to find Cadet Billy Haney standing next to him. The two had gone through the Academy together and Bill was now in charge of the ground crew for the flight squadron. It felt good for Cockman to know that his soon to be fighter was in good, if a bit neurotic, hands."How's it hanging', Cockman?" Bill said, shaking hands with the much taller man."Long, lean and to the left," Cockman deadpanned but then both of them burst into laughter at the inside joke."Ain't she a beauty?" beamed the other, gesturing to the ship. Cockman nodded knowingly."A fine ship if I ever saw one.""Ever fly her?""Only sim," Cockman admitted timidly."No worries, CC. She ain't much different from the twenty-two unless you count the jump drive. Besides, wasn't it you who bagged Sheila Neutrino our senior year? Anyone who can handle that hydrazine in heels can certainly handle this baby."Bill playfully punched in pal in the arm. The mention of Sheila brought up fond memories of giving her the 'Cockman Special' in the null-g simulator."Who's my co-pilot?" Cockman asked, shaking the image of zero-g jugs from his mind as a set of stairs was wheeled up to the spacecraft, "You met him yet?""Here she comes now, as a matter of fact," Bill said, staring at the far end of the tarmac."She?" Cockman asked, following his gaze.The approaching figure was still far enough away that the heat rising from the flattop distorted the image. As it grew closer, the curving waves stopped wavering and stayed curvy. She wore an outfit similar to Captain Benover but with the tunic fully zipped to the wide collar. In spite of that, the tight-fitting uniform could not conceal the fact that she was generously round in all the right places. She walked with a military cadence, her hips swaying and bosom bouncing slightly with each step. Cockman saw a cadet behind her nearly wreck the cargo mover he was driving, so intent was he in looking at what could only be assumed was a very nice ass.The advancing hottie was also different from Bunny in that instead of blond hair and tanned skin, this babe had blue skin and purple hair which was tied back into a tight regulation bun. A Venusian, Cockman realized. She had on mirrored aviators' glasses and as she neared, he peeped the lieutenant pips on her collar. Both he and Bill snapped to attention."As you were," she said as she reached up to remove the shades. The voice had an almost musical quality to it and Cockman remembered reading somewhere about Venusian vocal harmonies. He also noted that her fingers were partially webbed and had no nails. Her heart shaped mouth was as dark and full as a bushel of fresh blueberriesBut it was the eyes that really drew his attention. They were the type you got lost in, such a deep shade of green they looked like two emerald circlets floating in a clear blue sky."Cadet Cockman, I'd like to introduce you to Lieutenant  Eza LuNar," Bill said with the emphasis on 'nar', "She'll be your astrogator for the flight.""Ma'am," Cockman said, nodding. Those lovely green eyes looked him up and down, an unimpressed look on her bluish face."You are my pilot?" she harrumphed.'Oh boy', he thought as he said, "Yes, Ma'am.""How much flight time do you have, Cadet?" she asked indifferently."Over fifteen hundred hours, Ma'am." He wasn't about to tell her that some of that time was spent giving a new meaning to the term 'cockpit'. She eyed him up and down again, perhaps a bit differently this time, he noticed and then turned to Bill."Are we ready for a system check, Cadet?" she lisped."Ready as she'll ever be, Ma'am," he replied smartly.When the lieutenant turned her back of the pair to move towards the ship, Bill silently got Cockman's attention, making hour glass motions in the air with his hands as he mouthed the word 'wow!'. They followed after her and as they neared, Cockman spotted on the side of the cockpit a cartoon Venusian in a Pinup girl pose, riding side saddle on an even more conspicuously phallic shaped rocket. The string bikini she wore barely covered her overly large blue tits and she was winking suggestively as she saluted. He grimaced as he red the caption beneath: 'Feels so good even a Venus girl will like it!'Lieutenant  LuNar halted when she too noticed the caricature and glared at Bill, her green eyes sparking with anger."I'll have that removed at the next servicing Ma'am," he gulped."See that you do, Cadet," she hissed.They came to the foot of the stairs and Bill motioned for them to ascend. As was customary, the lieutenant went first with Cockman following a step or two behind her. He was okay with the arrangement since he gave me a chance to check out what was indeed a nice round ass as they climbed. Near the top of the stairs, the Venusian's heel came down on a smear of grease that had been carelessly left on a tread. Her foot slipped from under her and she fell back with a yelp of surprise.Cockman's strong arm shot out, catching the full weight of her beneath her shoulder blades, his left hand grasping the railing to keep them both from falling. Lieutenant  LuNar's flailing limbs wrapped around his neck. Their faces were very close and they stared into each other's eyes for a moment. From this close, he saw that her eyes were in fact not completely green but streaked with bands of gold. The pupils were also partially slitted, dilating as he looked into them."Tha-thank you, Cadet," she said breathlessly."My pleasure, Lieutenant."He smiled down at her and saw her skin darken, wondering if it were the Venusian equivalent of blushing. She seemed to all at once remember where they were and composed herself as Cockman helped her to her feet."See that you have these stairs cleaned properly, Cadet!" she yelled at Bill."Yes, Ma'am!" he replied with a crisp salute.Once the lieutenant was safely onboard, Cockman turned to Bill to wave farewell. The cocky cadet returned the gesture before leaning over to emulate the former's dramatic rescue, complete with exaggerated kissy faces and tongue action. Cockman just shook his head, giving his buddy the one finger salute as he ducked into the hatch.

Jack Bauer gives Nina Myers more than expected.Based on a post by Talking Bowl. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Nina Myers stared at Jack Bauer, a mixture of fear and vulnerability in her eyes. Just moments before, Ed, who had been sent along with Jack to help guard her on the truck ride to the airport, had slumped over unconscious into Jack's lap, the victim of a ‘mickey', which the rogue CTU agent had slipped into his bottled water. It had taken her tired mind, already rattled by Jack's previous violent interrogations back at HQ, a few minutes to process the full implication of the look on his face. To see the faintest trace of a smirk that played across his lips, and realize that he had been in the process of outwitting her, even as she had thought she was doing the same to him. Her previous taunts faded from her lips, and she stared at him in fear, dry-mouthed, her heart thumping in anticipation.For what seemed like an eternity, they did not speak. The only noise came from the dull roar of the engine, the rattle of the truck as it jostled down the road, the almost imperceptible sound of their breathing, and Nina's heartbeat, which, although only she could hear it, was almost deafening to her ears. Finally, she licked her lips, swallowed hard, and screwing up her bravado, said:"You got me, Jack." The words came out in a husky croak. He did not speak or move. Clearing her throat and holding her head a little higher, she tried again."What are you going to do to me now, Jack? Kill me?""I would never give you the satisfaction," he hissed. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he started to move towards her, bracing himself against the pitch and roll of the vehicle."What, then?" Bolder still. "Beat the shit out of me? Leave me unconscious for the guards to find, and then say I slipped and fell?"Or is it a mind-fuck;" (she caressed the word fuck, trying to make him savor it) "you want? Interrogate me a little more, try to make me piss myself, and hope I'll end up blubbering everything to you? Even you can't be that naïve," Nina sneered. "Don't forget, Jack, I'm as good at this as you are."Jack smirked. "Not quite." He was halfway towards her now. "Don't forget who's in chains here.""And why is that, Jack? Because I got away with something you never thought I could? Because I did it right under your nose and you never had a goddamn clue?" Fire glinted in her eyes. "Because you had the chance to kill me, but you just didn't have the balls to; "Nina's words turned into a yelp as Jack's hand shot out from his arm, grabbing her by the throat. The momentum of his grasp was so great that it lifted Nina out of her seat, until she was standing tilted back against the honeycombed metal walls of the truck. He rammed his torso against hers, pinning her in place, and put his face so close to hers that she could practically taste his hot breath with her tongue. The musky scent of his skin filled her nostrils, bringing back lewd memories despite the pain at her throat. Voiceless, she croaked out;"Jack; let go; ""Beg me," he snarled."What?""Beg me, Nina.""; please; ""Please what?"She stared at him blankly."Please what!" He tightened his grip, making her choke anew. "You may not work for me anymore, Nina, but you are still under my command! And as long as you are under my command! You will do! As I fucking say!" His face was flushed red, his breast heaving with exertion. "Now Please, fucking what?""Please; Sir; ""What?" His voice suddenly dropped in volume to a husky purr, and he put his ear up to her mouth. "What was that? Speak up, I can't hear you."Nina tried to speak, but could only make choking noises. Realizing he had made it impossible for her to carry out his orders, Jack loosened his grip on her throat, ever so slightly. Trying again, Nina gasped out:"Please; sir; will you let go of my throat?"Without a word, Jack let go of Nina's throat, but kept his body pinned against hers. Nina gasped as the air rushed back into her lungs. Her breathing was still slightly constricted from the pressure of Jack's weight against her ribs and diaphragm, but at least she no longer felt as if she were drowning for lack of air.Silence again, more charged than before. Jack's mouth by her ear, hers by his. Breathing in tandem, as much out of force of habit as out of comfort in their close quarters. Nina became aware of the fact that Jack's pelvis was pressed up against hers. Was it intentional? You never could tell, with Jack."So you're not going to kill me, Jack."He said nothing."And you're not going to beat me up, either."No response. She thought she could read agreement on his face, but wasn't sure."Then what are you going to do to me?" A slight note of fear in her voice, more than she would have liked, which she tried immediately to push away.He turned his face and looked her dead in the eye. His left hand crept around the back of her head, cupping it for support. He leaned in closer and, a trace of the arrogant smirk still on his lips, hissed at her:"Anything. I. Want."Nina knew it was true. He could do anything at all to her, and would most likely get away with it. Even if he were found out, who at CTU would defend her at this point? It took all her inner steel to avoid breaking down in tears at the thought.Jack's face drew even closer to Nina's. His breath felt warm on her face, yet his eyes still glittered with hatred. For a second, she thought he might strike her. Bite her. Spit in her face.Instead, to her surprise, she felt Jack's lips burning on hers. His tongue battered its way into her mouth as he kissed her violently. This time, there was lust mixed in with his anger, and the mixture sent a shiver through Nina in spite of herself. Almost instantaneously, she was furious both at him for taking advantage of her like this, and at herself for – she had to admit it – liking it.There was no doubt Jack was enjoying it too, in his own perverse way – the steadily fattening bulge in his jeans, burning against Nina's thigh, was proof enough of that. Not much blood going to his head right now, thought Nina. Seeing a chance to regain her edge in the situation, she kissed him back with gusto, trying to turn him on as much as possible. Just give him a nice big hard-on, and pretty soon he'd be weak enough to ease up on her. Ask her if the shackles were hurting her. Reach for the key and undo her, and just when he thought she wouldn't try to get away –All of a sudden, Nina felt Jack simultaneously disengage from her mouth and crotch. The hand that had been resting at the base of her skull only moments before yanked her head back by the roots of her hair, so far that she could barely breathe. Jack stood up, by now gasping for breath. His face was red; his erection strained the seams of the well-worn denim clinging to his lower body. Yet he seemed completely in control, both of himself and of her. Nina's mouth and pelvis burned at the withdrawal of his venomous lust, at the same time as her mind cried out in fury at being foiled by his ever-calculating mind."You thought you'd get off that easy, you piece of shit?" Jack shook his head in mock amazement. He leaned his face back in to hers and hissed:"I fucking own you. Do you understand me, you little cunt?"“Yes.""Yes what, ass rag?""Sir! Yes sir!" Nina shouted. Her humiliation fueled her arousal.Jack let go of her hair, shoving her head forward so hard that Nina was sure her neck was broken. She saw him kneel on the floor and go through Ed's pockets, searching for the key to the cuffs that bound her wrists and ankles together. She willed her facial muscles to remain neutral, but permitted herself an inward smile of triumph. Santa Barbara all over again. She had him by the balls.Jack found the keys, tried several of them before finding the right one, and undid the cuff attached to her broad leather belt and the one that connected her ankles to her wrists via a narrow metal chain. He disengaged those bonds completely and tossed them on the floor. She shifted slightly, anticipating the release of her hands and feet, but to her surprise, he left those cuffs on, throwing the keys over his shoulder, where they bounced off of Ed's inert body and skidded across the floor.Gingerly bracing his body against the truck's motion, Jack walked back towards Nina, the small smirk back on his lips. His left hand grabbed the chains binding her wrists and shoved them behind her neck, so that her hands were practically behind her head. Quick as a flash, she saw his right hand reach for something, heard the well-oiled flick of a blade popping out of its sheath, and before she knew it, Jack had a knife at her throat. MicroTek Halo, she registered."Now," he said, all business despite his barely concealed rage. "If you try to pull any more shit on me, or disobey me in any way, I will hurt you in ways you could only imagine. You'll fucking pray for death before I'm through with you. Understood?""Yes, sir.""Good," he said. He gently caressed her cheek with the butt of the knife, a twisted mockery of a tender lover's gesture. "Now lean back so that your head is touching the wall. Slowly."Trembling, she complied. As she did so, she noticed that her lower body tilted out over the seating bank, pelvis forward, legs splayed, as though she were presenting herself to him. Jack had planned it that way, no doubt. How like him, she thought bitterly.His left hand released her wrists, then traveled down to the front of her drab prison uniform. The hand holding the knife never left her throat. One by one, he undid the buttons, his thumb and forefinger working to pop each button gently yet firmly out of its hole. When he reached the buckle on her belt, he paused, as though contemplating his next move. Still acting one-handed, he loosened the tooth of the buckle from its leather hole so that the belt hung slack around her waist, then pulled it slowly down her thighs, almost to her knees."Put your knees together."She did so, wordlessly. He cinched the belt tightly around her legs, so that her loins touched each other. He chuckled softly to himself."Just think. If you'd kept your knees together before, none of this would have happened.""Jack; " she began to protest, forgetting herself."Shut up." He barely raised his voice, but she knew he meant it. She obeyed, but her eyes glittered with anger and frustration.Jack continued his slow, methodical unbuttoning of her uniform top, until he had undone the very last button. Then, in one supple motion, he yanked down her uniform bottom around the belt, exposing her plain white cotton panties. He then stood back up, replaced the point of the blade where it had been before, and pushed the fabric of the top far enough off her shoulders to expose the straps of the cheap standard-issue bra they had permitted her in prison. He smirked again, reading her mind – he knew how much she liked nice underwear, and how much it humiliated her to have to wear cheap, unflattering crap. Before she could even gasp in shock, he had cut both the straps with the knife, so that the bra hung loosely around her tits. He pulled down the fabric on each cup, one at a time, so that each nipple was just barely exposed. Nina's nipples had been fully soft in the steamy heat of the truck, but as Jack knowingly circled his thumb around her right one, they both watched it harden at his touch."Is this what you're going to do to me, Jack?" Nina spat in a low voice. "Tear my clothes off and fuck me in the back of this truck?"Jack said nothing. The hand with the knife slipped around behind her neck until his hand rested between her neck and shoulder, as though embracing her, but with the blade still pointed where it could hurt her if need be. His other thumb left her right nipple and started massaging her left one. He gazed directly at it, both pleased and fascinated by the effect he was having on her body in spite of itself. Nina's face flushed, but she continued:"How do you think you're going to explain yourself when we get to the airport and the guards find me like this? Do you think they're going to just hand you your Get Out of Jail Free card and say, 'Okay, Jack, just don't let it happen again?' Even you can't be that crazy."At this, Jack pinched her nipple – hard – between his thumb and forefinger. Nina yelped involuntarily, then held back another gasp as he continued to roll it around in his grasp, firmly yet – could it be? – gently. He continued to switch off, from left tit to right and back again, until he was sure both nipples were painfully hard, and then smiled again ever so slightly in satisfaction. Nina was almost wincing at the effects of her own arousal, but she somehow managed to hold herself in check.He had another command for her:"Hold still."Nina's throat was too dry to respond. She could only gaze dumbly as she watched the arm holding the Halo slip back from around her neck, slip up under her bra with the blade facing outward, and position itself right at the junction of the bra's two soft cups. With a sudden burst of force, Jack grabbed the bra with his other hand, braced against her for support, and cut Nina's bra open. A small, animal sound escaped from the captive woman's throat as the bra's support lapsed and her breasts fell to their sides. Even before, when she and Jack had been lovers and she had shown herself naked in front of him for the first time, she had never felt this exposed. Or this turned on.And then Jack's head was bent, he was kneeling, his firm hot mouth burning on her nipple, the knifeless palm grabbing her other tit and kneading it for all it was worth. Nina closed her eyes and felt her heart hammer against her ribcage. Rage in her mind, fear in her heart, heat in her cunt."Santa Barbara was business, Jack." She tried to sound cold and calculating, but her rising libido betrayed her. "I needed you to trust me. I needed you on my side. If you think you're reawakening an old flame or something, you're a bigger fool than I though. I saw my chance and I took it. End of story."Jack pulled his face away from her nipple and nuzzled between her breasts. He worked his way down slowly, tortuously, towards her stomach, his lips and teeth moving in stinging, sucking bites that Nina was sure would leave readily visible marks. Marks the guards would see, that would make them ask questions, that would – oh, GOD, his tongue was in her navel, he was working it around, hot DAMN that man was good with his mouth; shit, oh, shit, oh, shit, he was moving lower, lower still, but how the hell would he get her panties off with this fucking belt around her thighs, what was he, crazy?Again, the knife made an appearance. Again, Jack was grasping some piece of clothing on her body, trying to rip it off of her. First one side, then the other, along both seams of those hideous fucking granny panties that made her look like a friggin' hippo."I'll just rid you of those," he said, knowingly. The bastard was actually grinning. Then, as though performing a parlor trick, he whipped out her shredded panties from under her uniform, and Nina again yelped as the fabric stung her swollen clit and aching lips. He was enjoying this. Cocksucker."I don't hate you, you know, Jack." Trying to retain at least a shred of composure. "I didn't love you, either. None of this was ever personal."His mouth continued its searing path down her stomach, pausing as he lowered himself further still to give the tip of his turned-up nose a chance to nuzzle her dark pubic thatch."Oh, sure, I liked you all right. You were a decent guy. A good agent. An above-average fuck, when you got the chance. But no fuck is worth jeopardizing – AH!"Jack had nipped the sensitive skin just above her clitoral hood. He hadn't bit very hard, but the area was so engorged with the blood of Nina's hotly stoked lust that her eyes watered with pain. And then she could feel his hot breath on her, his mouth so close, but still not touching. Waiting. Teasing. Bastard. His tongue flicking, ever so lightly, over the painfully erect surface area of her sex, teasing her some more. Come on, motherfucker, get it over with.And then he was done teasing her, his mouth, his glorious mouth was on her, encircling her, inside her, licking and sucking her lips, her hood, her clit, fucking her with his tongue, tasting her wet hot slippery salty arousal. The man gave dynamite head, and he knew it, and she remembered it now more than ever. And as he got more and more into it, he yanked the belt down around her ankles and grabbed her by the hips and slammed her ass down on the seat – Nina was moaning steadily by now, no longer able to control herself – and spread her legs as far apart as they would go and oh my GOD he just kept eating her and eating her and eating her and –What? Why did he just -Jack stopped. He pulled his face away from her and squatted back on his heels, his hands still braced against her inner thighs. He had a wicked glint in his eyes and Nina's slick, clear juices all over his mouth and chin. She could feel his fingertips tickling the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs, just barely touching, but enough to let her know he was doing it deliberately. His tongue darted out lasciviously and licked some of it off his face, savoring the taste when he put his tongue back in his mouth."Want some?" He grinned, arose slightly, and leaned in for another kiss.Nina reared back reflexively, again banging her head on the wall, but Jack was too quick for her, and his tongue darted between her lips before she could muster the strength to force him out. It really didn't taste that bad, she thought. A slight marine tang, but nothing to gag over. It was more the way Jack was forcing it upon her, violating her mouth with his, that made her want to bite him, force him out, tell him to fuck himself.Then, as suddenly as he had begun, he stopped. He reached behind her for her mangled bra, which had fallen on the seat behind her. Then he had a command:"Stand up."Nina obeyed as best she could, bracing herself against the Humvee's momentum and willing strength into her quivering knees. Jack bound the bra around her eyes, whipping her around to tie it in the back so that it could serve as a makeshift blindfold. Then he turned her back around, this time more slowly but still firmly. Another command:"On your knees."Nina had a pretty good idea of what was coming next. Despite her fear, she allowed herself a mental roll of the eyes at Jack's stupidity. I'm supposed to give him a blowjob sight unseen with no hands? What is he, high?Jack must have sensed her insubordination, because she felt the knife press against her throat again. "Nina, this morning I cut a man's head off with a hacksaw. My wife is dead, my daughter isn't talking to me, and the people I work for would like nothing better than for me to fuck off and die. I have absolutely nothing left to lose."Now you're going to open your mouth – wide – and pull your lips over your teeth, and you're going to take what I give you the way I tell you to, and if you so much as think of pulling any shit with me, I swear to Christ I will cut you from ear to ear. Are we clear?""Y; yes sir; ""Good," said Jack, "Good." He was breathing heavily again. She heard a zipper, the rustle of fabric, the motion of skin against skin. She felt a hand, the one holding the knife, slip behind her head. The other hand, she knew, was where Jack intended her mouth to be shortly; he was busily making himself as hard as possible. Then he moved closer, and she felt the burning blunt head of his massive cock brush against her face. She had to restrain herself from gasping at the incredible heat he was giving off, as though his lust were being stoked by some huge internal furnace."Now open your mouth like I told you. Nice and slow." Again Nina could not help but obey, sliding her lips over her teeth as he had requested and opening her mouth as wide as she could.And then that massive head – which, she remembered, must be a deep purple color by now – found its way into her mouth, guided there by its master's hand. Although Nina remembered all too well how huge Jack was, her mouth still had trouble adjusting to his girth at first, and when he pushed it deeper into her mouth she had to restrain herself from gagging."Suck it," he commanded.Finally, Nina managed to get her reflexes under control, and began to work her tongue around the sensitive head, just the way she remembered Jack liked it. She burrowed her tongue into the tip and felt him stiffen and gasp involuntarily, then swirled it around the corona and heard a low moan resonate in his chest cavity. Flattening her tongue against the frenulum – Jack was practically growling in pleasure now – she took as much of him into her mouth as she could, then pulled back slightly and began sucking him in earnest. She could feel his fingers stroking her hair – a surprisingly tender gesture, she thought, for a man getting his cock sucked by the woman who killed his wife. She thought, again, of how relieved he would be after he came. How relaxed. How vulnerable and open to suggestion. Surely, Nina said to herself, he would have mercy on her. The stupid shit. She took a deep breath through her nose and sucked him even harder.Before long, Jack lost patience with being acted upon and decided to take matters into his own hands. Nina felt his legs move apart and bend slightly, so that he was straddling her head. His hand pushed her head even further down onto his cock as he began to fuck her mouth in earnest. She could feel him banging against the back of her throat, each pitch and roll of the Humvee deepening his thrusts."You like that, don't you, bitch?" Jack growled. "You wish you could see it right now, don't you? That you could touch it? Stroke it?" His thrusting grew harder and faster, and she could tell he was on the verge of coming. "That you could suck it dry? Swallow; every; drop?"And then all of a sudden, right before she thought he would shoot his load, Jack withdrew roughly from Nina's mouth and pushed her head away. Both of them were breathing raggedly. Nina felt disoriented from the blindfold, and her throat ached from the impact of the mouth-fucking she had just sustained. She had no idea what Jack would do to her next, and at this point it no longer mattered to her. Whatever it was, she was sure nothing could be more humiliating than –OUCH!Daylight. Nina squinted at the light, the blindfold abruptly removed from her eyes. The bridge of her nose stung where the bra hooks had chafed against her skin. She could not see or feel Jack, but sensed his presence behind her. Heard his breathing, calmer than before, but still elevated."You've been very good, Nina," Jack said, somehow more gently than before. "You've done as I said. You've given me exactly what I want. And now I'm going to give you exactly what you want.""What's that, sir?" Nina said, although she had a pretty good idea."Get on your hands and knees."Nina did so, unable to prevent a small moan of anticipation from escaping her lips. She knew what was coming now.During their weekend in Santa Barbara, Nina had begged Jack repeatedly to fuck her in the ass. He had done everything else – fucked her mouth, fingered her g-spot until she gushed all over him, fucked her cunt from every angle and position the two of them could think up, gone down on her until she lost her voice for screaming in ecstasy – but when she asked him to do that, he demurred, saying they could do it "some time later." And by the time it was later, he had already decided to go back to Teri, and there was nothing she could do about it. What had changed his mind now, she wondered?Jack unfastened the belt from Nina's ankles and tossed it aside. She heard cloth brush against skin as he took off his jacket and shirt, laying them carefully on the seat. She tried to turn her head around, the better to get a look at his glorious chest and arms, but he yanked her head back to its original position. That was the worst part of all this, Nina thought to herself – being denied the sight of this beautiful man even as he brought her to new heights in the midst of her degradation. It was like being in a state of permanent solar eclipse.Nina felt Jack kneel behind her, felt his hand move against her skin, stroking her ass, the cold metal of the knife contrasting with the warmth of his hand. The gesture was gentle but possessive, as though he were claiming her as his property. She felt the chain that she had noticed around his neck dangling against her back, a small, thick metal circle attached to the end. She wondered what it was, but dared not ask him."Do you want this, Nina?""Yes.""What did you say?""Yes, sir.""Louder, bitch.""Sir! Yes sir! Sir, this bitch would like you to fuck her in the ass! With your big hard cock! Sir!” She saw his other hand come in front of her field of vision, the palm at her mouth. "Spit."She spat. He rubbed the saliva all in and around her asshole, making sure it got in there. She then heard him spit on his own hand and heard the wet sound against his own flesh, making sure he was well-lubed. Then she heard him remove the chain from his neck and dangled it in front of her face. It was a ring. A simple, metal band."Do you know what this is, Nina?""A ring.""What ring.""Your wedding ring, Jack. Sir.""Do you know what I'm going to do with it?""No, sir.""I'm going to make you taste it, you worthless piece of ass," Jack spat. "I want you to taste it while I'm screwing you in your filthy asshole, so that you can feel exactly what I've lost. Do you want that, Nina?"What could she possibly lose by being frank now? "No, sir."Jack chuckled bitterly. "Good." He slipped the loop of the chain around her neck. "Now open up."Nina opened her mouth to receive the ring, then gasped in pain as he twisted the chain, yanking it tightly so that it cut into her mouth and her head was lifted back into an upright position. Then, with his other hand, he slowly, carefully spread her legs and guided his massive throbbing cock into her ass.Nina gasped again and moaned, pain mixed in with pleasure as she felt his hugeness sink deeper and deeper within her. He began to move in and out, slowly at first, with long, deep strokes; he was so long that there was absolutely no slippage. He was down on one knee, the other one propped up for leverage. The hand not holding the chain grabbed her by the hip, pulling her back towards him for maximum penetration. The knife, she noticed, was no longer in his hand. When had he put it down?Jack's strokes got steadily faster. She felt his hand tremble as he held the chain, making her own head bobble slightly. Her tits rocked in motion with the truck; the sensation only enhanced the ones she was feeling below the waist. She tried to move her head down so that she could breathe more easily, but the force in Jack's hand never wavered. The metal tasted cold and sweet in Nina's mouth, a slight salty tinge the only evidence it had been nestled against Jack's skin in this heat.Jack was beyond words. He let out an animal noise that sounded like something between a moan and a growl. He began to drill her ass in earnest, pumping into her unmercifully. She could feel the metal chain starting to cut into the corners of her mouth, and almost gagged on the ring nestled like a horse's bit in her mouth. The hand holding her hip slipped between her legs and started dithering her clit, rubbing it so expertly that an involuntary shudder went through her body, drawing her back against Jack's pelvis.God, the pumping. The pain. The hugeness. The pleasure. The stroking. Jack finally giving her exactly what she wanted, the taste of his defeat, his lowest hour, sitting like a curse between her teeth. And then he yanked her head almost all the way back, at the same time as his hand worked her clit even harder than before, and she screamed and shook and came, over and over, and the roar in her head was so loud that it almost drowned out the sound of Jack's roar as he reached his own climax, pumping load after load of hot, steaming come deep inside her, until he finally collapsed on top of her, almost flattening her on the ground. His hands dropped to the side, his head to the space between her neck and shoulder. She felt his chest hair, wet with sweat, pressing against her back, felt his heart beating madly – and then, all of a sudden, felt his chest erupt with uncontrollable shaking and realized he was sobbing, intoning his wife's name under his breath: "Teri, Teri, Teri, oh my God, Teri, I'm so sorry, sweetheart, Teri, I'm so sorry, Teri, Teri, Teri; "Nina had no idea what to say. She wasn't sorry she had killed Teri – that had been strictly business – but she had no idea how to react to seeing a tough, hard man like Jack Bauer breaking down in tears, weeping like an infant. She felt the hot salt water in little streams down her shoulder, running down her torso until the tears dropped off her nipples onto the floor of the Humvee. He remained like that, crying helplessly, repeating Teri, Teri, Teri, as though saying her name would bring her back like Eurydice from the gates of Hades.The truck lurched to a halt. Jack, pulling himself together almost as instantaneously as he had broken down, put the ring's chain back around his neck, then pulled on his shirt and jacket, as well as a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket. Instantly the tough, unreachable CTU agent again. He wiped roughly under his eyes and nose, picked up his things, and went to the exit.Gazing at Nina, he saw a disheveled wreck of a woman, shirt open, undergarments in shreds, pants down. She could feel a stream of semen leaking out of her asshole and down her thigh. She returned Jack's gaze, an unreadable look in her eyes. He squatted for a second, picked up a half-empty bottle of water, screwed on the top, and threw it at her, bouncing it off her chest. He opened the door to exit the truck. Turning back to look at her one last time, he said, without an ounce of emotion in his voice:"Clean yourself up."And then he was gone.By Talking Bowl for Literotica.

Jack Bauer gives Nina Myers more than expected.Based on a post by Talking Bowl. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories.Nina Myers stared at Jack Bauer, a mixture of fear and vulnerability in her eyes. Just moments before, Ed, who had been sent along with Jack to help guard her on the truck ride to the airport, had slumped over unconscious into Jack's lap, the victim of a ‘mickey', which the rogue CTU agent had slipped into his bottled water. It had taken her tired mind, already rattled by Jack's previous violent interrogations back at HQ, a few minutes to process the full implication of the look on his face. To see the faintest trace of a smirk that played across his lips, and realize that he had been in the process of outwitting her, even as she had thought she was doing the same to him. Her previous taunts faded from her lips, and she stared at him in fear, dry-mouthed, her heart thumping in anticipation.For what seemed like an eternity, they did not speak. The only noise came from the dull roar of the engine, the rattle of the truck as it jostled down the road, the almost imperceptible sound of their breathing, and Nina's heartbeat, which, although only she could hear it, was almost deafening to her ears. Finally, she licked her lips, swallowed hard, and screwing up her bravado, said:"You got me, Jack." The words came out in a husky croak. He did not speak or move. Clearing her throat and holding her head a little higher, she tried again."What are you going to do to me now, Jack? Kill me?""I would never give you the satisfaction," he hissed. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he started to move towards her, bracing himself against the pitch and roll of the vehicle."What, then?" Bolder still. "Beat the shit out of me? Leave me unconscious for the guards to find, and then say I slipped and fell?"Or is it a mind-fuck;" (she caressed the word fuck, trying to make him savor it) "you want? Interrogate me a little more, try to make me piss myself, and hope I'll end up blubbering everything to you? Even you can't be that naïve," Nina sneered. "Don't forget, Jack, I'm as good at this as you are."Jack smirked. "Not quite." He was halfway towards her now. "Don't forget who's in chains here.""And why is that, Jack? Because I got away with something you never thought I could? Because I did it right under your nose and you never had a goddamn clue?" Fire glinted in her eyes. "Because you had the chance to kill me, but you just didn't have the balls to; "Nina's words turned into a yelp as Jack's hand shot out from his arm, grabbing her by the throat. The momentum of his grasp was so great that it lifted Nina out of her seat, until she was standing tilted back against the honeycombed metal walls of the truck. He rammed his torso against hers, pinning her in place, and put his face so close to hers that she could practically taste his hot breath with her tongue. The musky scent of his skin filled her nostrils, bringing back lewd memories despite the pain at her throat. Voiceless, she croaked out;"Jack; let go; ""Beg me," he snarled."What?""Beg me, Nina.""; please; ""Please what?"She stared at him blankly."Please what!" He tightened his grip, making her choke anew. "You may not work for me anymore, Nina, but you are still under my command! And as long as you are under my command! You will do! As I fucking say!" His face was flushed red, his breast heaving with exertion. "Now Please, fucking what?""Please; Sir; ""What?" His voice suddenly dropped in volume to a husky purr, and he put his ear up to her mouth. "What was that? Speak up, I can't hear you."Nina tried to speak, but could only make choking noises. Realizing he had made it impossible for her to carry out his orders, Jack loosened his grip on her throat, ever so slightly. Trying again, Nina gasped out:"Please; sir; will you let go of my throat?"Without a word, Jack let go of Nina's throat, but kept his body pinned against hers. Nina gasped as the air rushed back into her lungs. Her breathing was still slightly constricted from the pressure of Jack's weight against her ribs and diaphragm, but at least she no longer felt as if she were drowning for lack of air.Silence again, more charged than before. Jack's mouth by her ear, hers by his. Breathing in tandem, as much out of force of habit as out of comfort in their close quarters. Nina became aware of the fact that Jack's pelvis was pressed up against hers. Was it intentional? You never could tell, with Jack."So you're not going to kill me, Jack."He said nothing."And you're not going to beat me up, either."No response. She thought she could read agreement on his face, but wasn't sure."Then what are you going to do to me?" A slight note of fear in her voice, more than she would have liked, which she tried immediately to push away.He turned his face and looked her dead in the eye. His left hand crept around the back of her head, cupping it for support. He leaned in closer and, a trace of the arrogant smirk still on his lips, hissed at her:"Anything. I. Want."Nina knew it was true. He could do anything at all to her, and would most likely get away with it. Even if he were found out, who at CTU would defend her at this point? It took all her inner steel to avoid breaking down in tears at the thought.Jack's face drew even closer to Nina's. His breath felt warm on her face, yet his eyes still glittered with hatred. For a second, she thought he might strike her. Bite her. Spit in her face.Instead, to her surprise, she felt Jack's lips burning on hers. His tongue battered its way into her mouth as he kissed her violently. This time, there was lust mixed in with his anger, and the mixture sent a shiver through Nina in spite of herself. Almost instantaneously, she was furious both at him for taking advantage of her like this, and at herself for – she had to admit it – liking it.There was no doubt Jack was enjoying it too, in his own perverse way – the steadily fattening bulge in his jeans, burning against Nina's thigh, was proof enough of that. Not much blood going to his head right now, thought Nina. Seeing a chance to regain her edge in the situation, she kissed him back with gusto, trying to turn him on as much as possible. Just give him a nice big hard-on, and pretty soon he'd be weak enough to ease up on her. Ask her if the shackles were hurting her. Reach for the key and undo her, and just when he thought she wouldn't try to get away –All of a sudden, Nina felt Jack simultaneously disengage from her mouth and crotch. The hand that had been resting at the base of her skull only moments before yanked her head back by the roots of her hair, so far that she could barely breathe. Jack stood up, by now gasping for breath. His face was red; his erection strained the seams of the well-worn denim clinging to his lower body. Yet he seemed completely in control, both of himself and of her. Nina's mouth and pelvis burned at the withdrawal of his venomous lust, at the same time as her mind cried out in fury at being foiled by his ever-calculating mind."You thought you'd get off that easy, you piece of shit?" Jack shook his head in mock amazement. He leaned his face back in to hers and hissed:"I fucking own you. Do you understand me, you little cunt?"“Yes.""Yes what, ass rag?""Sir! Yes sir!" Nina shouted. Her humiliation fueled her arousal.Jack let go of her hair, shoving her head forward so hard that Nina was sure her neck was broken. She saw him kneel on the floor and go through Ed's pockets, searching for the key to the cuffs that bound her wrists and ankles together. She willed her facial muscles to remain neutral, but permitted herself an inward smile of triumph. Santa Barbara all over again. She had him by the balls.Jack found the keys, tried several of them before finding the right one, and undid the cuff attached to her broad leather belt and the one that connected her ankles to her wrists via a narrow metal chain. He disengaged those bonds completely and tossed them on the floor. She shifted slightly, anticipating the release of her hands and feet, but to her surprise, he left those cuffs on, throwing the keys over his shoulder, where they bounced off of Ed's inert body and skidded across the floor.Gingerly bracing his body against the truck's motion, Jack walked back towards Nina, the small smirk back on his lips. His left hand grabbed the chains binding her wrists and shoved them behind her neck, so that her hands were practically behind her head. Quick as a flash, she saw his right hand reach for something, heard the well-oiled flick of a blade popping out of its sheath, and before she knew it, Jack had a knife at her throat. MicroTek Halo, she registered."Now," he said, all business despite his barely concealed rage. "If you try to pull any more shit on me, or disobey me in any way, I will hurt you in ways you could only imagine. You'll fucking pray for death before I'm through with you. Understood?""Yes, sir.""Good," he said. He gently caressed her cheek with the butt of the knife, a twisted mockery of a tender lover's gesture. "Now lean back so that your head is touching the wall. Slowly."Trembling, she complied. As she did so, she noticed that her lower body tilted out over the seating bank, pelvis forward, legs splayed, as though she were presenting herself to him. Jack had planned it that way, no doubt. How like him, she thought bitterly.His left hand released her wrists, then traveled down to the front of her drab prison uniform. The hand holding the knife never left her throat. One by one, he undid the buttons, his thumb and forefinger working to pop each button gently yet firmly out of its hole. When he reached the buckle on her belt, he paused, as though contemplating his next move. Still acting one-handed, he loosened the tooth of the buckle from its leather hole so that the belt hung slack around her waist, then pulled it slowly down her thighs, almost to her knees."Put your knees together."She did so, wordlessly. He cinched the belt tightly around her legs, so that her loins touched each other. He chuckled softly to himself."Just think. If you'd kept your knees together before, none of this would have happened.""Jack; " she began to protest, forgetting herself."Shut up." He barely raised his voice, but she knew he meant it. She obeyed, but her eyes glittered with anger and frustration.Jack continued his slow, methodical unbuttoning of her uniform top, until he had undone the very last button. Then, in one supple motion, he yanked down her uniform bottom around the belt, exposing her plain white cotton panties. He then stood back up, replaced the point of the blade where it had been before, and pushed the fabric of the top far enough off her shoulders to expose the straps of the cheap standard-issue bra they had permitted her in prison. He smirked again, reading her mind – he knew how much she liked nice underwear, and how much it humiliated her to have to wear cheap, unflattering crap. Before she could even gasp in shock, he had cut both the straps with the knife, so that the bra hung loosely around her tits. He pulled down the fabric on each cup, one at a time, so that each nipple was just barely exposed. Nina's nipples had been fully soft in the steamy heat of the truck, but as Jack knowingly circled his thumb around her right one, they both watched it harden at his touch."Is this what you're going to do to me, Jack?" Nina spat in a low voice. "Tear my clothes off and fuck me in the back of this truck?"Jack said nothing. The hand with the knife slipped around behind her neck until his hand rested between her neck and shoulder, as though embracing her, but with the blade still pointed where it could hurt her if need be. His other thumb left her right nipple and started massaging her left one. He gazed directly at it, both pleased and fascinated by the effect he was having on her body in spite of itself. Nina's face flushed, but she continued:"How do you think you're going to explain yourself when we get to the airport and the guards find me like this? Do you think they're going to just hand you your Get Out of Jail Free card and say, 'Okay, Jack, just don't let it happen again?' Even you can't be that crazy."At this, Jack pinched her nipple – hard – between his thumb and forefinger. Nina yelped involuntarily, then held back another gasp as he continued to roll it around in his grasp, firmly yet – could it be? – gently. He continued to switch off, from left tit to right and back again, until he was sure both nipples were painfully hard, and then smiled again ever so slightly in satisfaction. Nina was almost wincing at the effects of her own arousal, but she somehow managed to hold herself in check.He had another command for her:"Hold still."Nina's throat was too dry to respond. She could only gaze dumbly as she watched the arm holding the Halo slip back from around her neck, slip up under her bra with the blade facing outward, and position itself right at the junction of the bra's two soft cups. With a sudden burst of force, Jack grabbed the bra with his other hand, braced against her for support, and cut Nina's bra open. A small, animal sound escaped from the captive woman's throat as the bra's support lapsed and her breasts fell to their sides. Even before, when she and Jack had been lovers and she had shown herself naked in front of him for the first time, she had never felt this exposed. Or this turned on.And then Jack's head was bent, he was kneeling, his firm hot mouth burning on her nipple, the knifeless palm grabbing her other tit and kneading it for all it was worth. Nina closed her eyes and felt her heart hammer against her ribcage. Rage in her mind, fear in her heart, heat in her cunt."Santa Barbara was business, Jack." She tried to sound cold and calculating, but her rising libido betrayed her. "I needed you to trust me. I needed you on my side. If you think you're reawakening an old flame or something, you're a bigger fool than I though. I saw my chance and I took it. End of story."Jack pulled his face away from her nipple and nuzzled between her breasts. He worked his way down slowly, tortuously, towards her stomach, his lips and teeth moving in stinging, sucking bites that Nina was sure would leave readily visible marks. Marks the guards would see, that would make them ask questions, that would – oh, GOD, his tongue was in her navel, he was working it around, hot DAMN that man was good with his mouth; shit, oh, shit, oh, shit, he was moving lower, lower still, but how the hell would he get her panties off with this fucking belt around her thighs, what was he, crazy?Again, the knife made an appearance. Again, Jack was grasping some piece of clothing on her body, trying to rip it off of her. First one side, then the other, along both seams of those hideous fucking granny panties that made her look like a friggin' hippo."I'll just rid you of those," he said, knowingly. The bastard was actually grinning. Then, as though performing a parlor trick, he whipped out her shredded panties from under her uniform, and Nina again yelped as the fabric stung her swollen clit and aching lips. He was enjoying this. Cocksucker."I don't hate you, you know, Jack." Trying to retain at least a shred of composure. "I didn't love you, either. None of this was ever personal."His mouth continued its searing path down her stomach, pausing as he lowered himself further still to give the tip of his turned-up nose a chance to nuzzle her dark pubic thatch."Oh, sure, I liked you all right. You were a decent guy. A good agent. An above-average fuck, when you got the chance. But no fuck is worth jeopardizing – AH!"Jack had nipped the sensitive skin just above her clitoral hood. He hadn't bit very hard, but the area was so engorged with the blood of Nina's hotly stoked lust that her eyes watered with pain. And then she could feel his hot breath on her, his mouth so close, but still not touching. Waiting. Teasing. Bastard. His tongue flicking, ever so lightly, over the painfully erect surface area of her sex, teasing her some more. Come on, motherfucker, get it over with.And then he was done teasing her, his mouth, his glorious mouth was on her, encircling her, inside her, licking and sucking her lips, her hood, her clit, fucking her with his tongue, tasting her wet hot slippery salty arousal. The man gave dynamite head, and he knew it, and she remembered it now more than ever. And as he got more and more into it, he yanked the belt down around her ankles and grabbed her by the hips and slammed her ass down on the seat – Nina was moaning steadily by now, no longer able to control herself – and spread her legs as far apart as they would go and oh my GOD he just kept eating her and eating her and eating her and –What? Why did he just -Jack stopped. He pulled his face away from her and squatted back on his heels, his hands still braced against her inner thighs. He had a wicked glint in his eyes and Nina's slick, clear juices all over his mouth and chin. She could feel his fingertips tickling the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thighs, just barely touching, but enough to let her know he was doing it deliberately. His tongue darted out lasciviously and licked some of it off his face, savoring the taste when he put his tongue back in his mouth."Want some?" He grinned, arose slightly, and leaned in for another kiss.Nina reared back reflexively, again banging her head on the wall, but Jack was too quick for her, and his tongue darted between her lips before she could muster the strength to force him out. It really didn't taste that bad, she thought. A slight marine tang, but nothing to gag over. It was more the way Jack was forcing it upon her, violating her mouth with his, that made her want to bite him, force him out, tell him to fuck himself.Then, as suddenly as he had begun, he stopped. He reached behind her for her mangled bra, which had fallen on the seat behind her. Then he had a command:"Stand up."Nina obeyed as best she could, bracing herself against the Humvee's momentum and willing strength into her quivering knees. Jack bound the bra around her eyes, whipping her around to tie it in the back so that it could serve as a makeshift blindfold. Then he turned her back around, this time more slowly but still firmly. Another command:"On your knees."Nina had a pretty good idea of what was coming next. Despite her fear, she allowed herself a mental roll of the eyes at Jack's stupidity. I'm supposed to give him a blowjob sight unseen with no hands? What is he, high?Jack must have sensed her insubordination, because she felt the knife press against her throat again. "Nina, this morning I cut a man's head off with a hacksaw. My wife is dead, my daughter isn't talking to me, and the people I work for would like nothing better than for me to fuck off and die. I have absolutely nothing left to lose."Now you're going to open your mouth – wide – and pull your lips over your teeth, and you're going to take what I give you the way I tell you to, and if you so much as think of pulling any shit with me, I swear to Christ I will cut you from ear to ear. Are we clear?""Y; yes sir; ""Good," said Jack, "Good." He was breathing heavily again. She heard a zipper, the rustle of fabric, the motion of skin against skin. She felt a hand, the one holding the knife, slip behind her head. The other hand, she knew, was where Jack intended her mouth to be shortly; he was busily making himself as hard as possible. Then he moved closer, and she felt the burning blunt head of his massive cock brush against her face. She had to restrain herself from gasping at the incredible heat he was giving off, as though his lust were being stoked by some huge internal furnace."Now open your mouth like I told you. Nice and slow." Again Nina could not help but obey, sliding her lips over her teeth as he had requested and opening her mouth as wide as she could.And then that massive head – which, she remembered, must be a deep purple color by now – found its way into her mouth, guided there by its master's hand. Although Nina remembered all too well how huge Jack was, her mouth still had trouble adjusting to his girth at first, and when he pushed it deeper into her mouth she had to restrain herself from gagging."Suck it," he commanded.Finally, Nina managed to get her reflexes under control, and began to work her tongue around the sensitive head, just the way she remembered Jack liked it. She burrowed her tongue into the tip and felt him stiffen and gasp involuntarily, then swirled it around the corona and heard a low moan resonate in his chest cavity. Flattening her tongue against the frenulum – Jack was practically growling in pleasure now – she took as much of him into her mouth as she could, then pulled back slightly and began sucking him in earnest. She could feel his fingers stroking her hair – a surprisingly tender gesture, she thought, for a man getting his cock sucked by the woman who killed his wife. She thought, again, of how relieved he would be after he came. How relaxed. How vulnerable and open to suggestion. Surely, Nina said to herself, he would have mercy on her. The stupid shit. She took a deep breath through her nose and sucked him even harder.Before long, Jack lost patience with being acted upon and decided to take matters into his own hands. Nina felt his legs move apart and bend slightly, so that he was straddling her head. His hand pushed her head even further down onto his cock as he began to fuck her mouth in earnest. She could feel him banging against the back of her throat, each pitch and roll of the Humvee deepening his thrusts."You like that, don't you, bitch?" Jack growled. "You wish you could see it right now, don't you? That you could touch it? Stroke it?" His thrusting grew harder and faster, and she could tell he was on the verge of coming. "That you could suck it dry? Swallow; every; drop?"And then all of a sudden, right before she thought he would shoot his load, Jack withdrew roughly from Nina's mouth and pushed her head away. Both of them were breathing raggedly. Nina felt disoriented from the blindfold, and her throat ached from the impact of the mouth-fucking she had just sustained. She had no idea what Jack would do to her next, and at this point it no longer mattered to her. Whatever it was, she was sure nothing could be more humiliating than –OUCH!Daylight. Nina squinted at the light, the blindfold abruptly removed from her eyes. The bridge of her nose stung where the bra hooks had chafed against her skin. She could not see or feel Jack, but sensed his presence behind her. Heard his breathing, calmer than before, but still elevated."You've been very good, Nina," Jack said, somehow more gently than before. "You've done as I said. You've given me exactly what I want. And now I'm going to give you exactly what you want.""What's that, sir?" Nina said, although she had a pretty good idea."Get on your hands and knees."Nina did so, unable to prevent a small moan of anticipation from escaping her lips. She knew what was coming now.During their weekend in Santa Barbara, Nina had begged Jack repeatedly to fuck her in the ass. He had done everything else – fucked her mouth, fingered her g-spot until she gushed all over him, fucked her cunt from every angle and position the two of them could think up, gone down on her until she lost her voice for screaming in ecstasy – but when she asked him to do that, he demurred, saying they could do it "some time later." And by the time it was later, he had already decided to go back to Teri, and there was nothing she could do about it. What had changed his mind now, she wondered?Jack unfastened the belt from Nina's ankles and tossed it aside. She heard cloth brush against skin as he took off his jacket and shirt, laying them carefully on the seat. She tried to turn her head around, the better to get a look at his glorious chest and arms, but he yanked her head back to its original position. That was the worst part of all this, Nina thought to herself – being denied the sight of this beautiful man even as he brought her to new heights in the midst of her degradation. It was like being in a state of permanent solar eclipse.Nina felt Jack kneel behind her, felt his hand move against her skin, stroking her ass, the cold metal of the knife contrasting with the warmth of his hand. The gesture was gentle but possessive, as though he were claiming her as his property. She felt the chain that she had noticed around his neck dangling against her back, a small, thick metal circle attached to the end. She wondered what it was, but dared not ask him."Do you want this, Nina?""Yes.""What did you say?""Yes, sir.""Louder, bitch.""Sir! Yes sir! Sir, this bitch would like you to fuck her in the ass! With your big hard cock! Sir!” She saw his other hand come in front of her field of vision, the palm at her mouth. "Spit."She spat. He rubbed the saliva all in and around her asshole, making sure it got in there. She then heard him spit on his own hand and heard the wet sound against his own flesh, making sure he was well-lubed. Then she heard him remove the chain from his neck and dangled it in front of her face. It was a ring. A simple, metal band."Do you know what this is, Nina?""A ring.""What ring.""Your wedding ring, Jack. Sir.""Do you know what I'm going to do with it?""No, sir.""I'm going to make you taste it, you worthless piece of ass," Jack spat. "I want you to taste it while I'm screwing you in your filthy asshole, so that you can feel exactly what I've lost. Do you want that, Nina?"What could she possibly lose by being frank now? "No, sir."Jack chuckled bitterly. "Good." He slipped the loop of the chain around her neck. "Now open up."Nina opened her mouth to receive the ring, then gasped in pain as he twisted the chain, yanking it tightly so that it cut into her mouth and her head was lifted back into an upright position. Then, with his other hand, he slowly, carefully spread her legs and guided his massive throbbing cock into her ass.Nina gasped again and moaned, pain mixed in with pleasure as she felt his hugeness sink deeper and deeper within her. He began to move in and out, slowly at first, with long, deep strokes; he was so long that there was absolutely no slippage. He was down on one knee, the other one propped up for leverage. The hand not holding the chain grabbed her by the hip, pulling her back towards him for maximum penetration. The knife, she noticed, was no longer in his hand. When had he put it down?Jack's strokes got steadily faster. She felt his hand tremble as he held the chain, making her own head bobble slightly. Her tits rocked in motion with the truck; the sensation only enhanced the ones she was feeling below the waist. She tried to move her head down so that she could breathe more easily, but the force in Jack's hand never wavered. The metal tasted cold and sweet in Nina's mouth, a slight salty tinge the only evidence it had been nestled against Jack's skin in this heat.Jack was beyond words. He let out an animal noise that sounded like something between a moan and a growl. He began to drill her ass in earnest, pumping into her unmercifully. She could feel the metal chain starting to cut into the corners of her mouth, and almost gagged on the ring nestled like a horse's bit in her mouth. The hand holding her hip slipped between her legs and started dithering her clit, rubbing it so expertly that an involuntary shudder went through her body, drawing her back against Jack's pelvis.God, the pumping. The pain. The hugeness. The pleasure. The stroking. Jack finally giving her exactly what she wanted, the taste of his defeat, his lowest hour, sitting like a curse between her teeth. And then he yanked her head almost all the way back, at the same time as his hand worked her clit even harder than before, and she screamed and shook and came, over and over, and the roar in her head was so loud that it almost drowned out the sound of Jack's roar as he reached his own climax, pumping load after load of hot, steaming come deep inside her, until he finally collapsed on top of her, almost flattening her on the ground. His hands dropped to the side, his head to the space between her neck and shoulder. She felt his chest hair, wet with sweat, pressing against her back, felt his heart beating madly – and then, all of a sudden, felt his chest erupt with uncontrollable shaking and realized he was sobbing, intoning his wife's name under his breath: "Teri, Teri, Teri, oh my God, Teri, I'm so sorry, sweetheart, Teri, I'm so sorry, Teri, Teri, Teri; "Nina had no idea what to say. She wasn't sorry she had killed Teri – that had been strictly business – but she had no idea how to react to seeing a tough, hard man like Jack Bauer breaking down in tears, weeping like an infant. She felt the hot salt water in little streams down her shoulder, running down her torso until the tears dropped off her nipples onto the floor of the Humvee. He remained like that, crying helplessly, repeating Teri, Teri, Teri, as though saying her name would bring her back like Eurydice from the gates of Hades.The truck lurched to a halt. Jack, pulling himself together almost as instantaneously as he had broken down, put the ring's chain back around his neck, then pulled on his shirt and jacket, as well as a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket. Instantly the tough, unreachable CTU agent again. He wiped roughly under his eyes and nose, picked up his things, and went to the exit.Gazing at Nina, he saw a disheveled wreck of a woman, shirt open, undergarments in shreds, pants down. She could feel a stream of semen leaking out of her asshole and down her thigh. She returned Jack's gaze, an unreadable look in her eyes. He squatted for a second, picked up a half-empty bottle of water, screwed on the top, and threw it at her, bouncing it off her chest. He opened the door to exit the truck. Turning back to look at her one last time, he said, without an ounce of emotion in his voice:"Clean yourself up."And then he was gone.By Talking Bowl for Literotica.

Finishing the normal weekend.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..“Being an asshole is not so much a matter of anatomy as one of social consciousness.”(Where we left off)"Bitch, did you just Taser my fiancé?" Orlando's lady stood up. Orlando was struggling back up as well."You are questioning the obvious," Estere mused as she dropped the device. She deftly pulled out what I thought was a compact Bersa 9 and began applying a silencer.It was sort of amazing that no one was screaming yet, then it dawned on me that we were in a soundproofed room and Estere was standing at the only exit."Would you have preferred I use this?" the Hashashin killer motioned with her firearm."How did you get a gun in here?" Brennan stammered. He looked ready to pee himself, so tonight was coming out in spades."Estere," I greeted the woman from Kurdistan. "Those two are okay," motioning to Orlando and his lady. "He's got some testosterone issues; I'm sure you understand.""Is this a kidnapping?" Anima sounded rather upbeat."Your rung on the Ladder of Heaven is not high," Estere commented to Anima. "Your outlook is not promising either. Silence is your best option, so exercise it.""Cáel, do you know this woman?" Libra had begun piecing things together; as in; my life was so crazy that women with guns showing up was much too common an occurrence. I thought about 'Yes Honey, she's a member of an 11th century mystic order of Nazri Ismailis assassins. In fact, her people gave us the word assassin'. Telling the truth at this juncture didn't seem wise, so;"Yes, Estere and I are old pals," I lied. "She's a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer." Don't bother looking it up; Olmec-tastic is a made up word; it is the crunching of Olmec (a Mesoamerican pre-Columbian culture) and '-tastic' which means; I guess it is a truncated form of 'fantastic'."You mean she's in 'record reduction', the same as you?" Casper whispered."Precisely!" I grinned her way. "Except she's got a Masters diploma on some wall somewhere alongside the shrunken heads of her first three victims; I mean clients; Clients!" Why was I blathering? There was a strange (to most of the room) woman between us and the only exit and panicking would suck; big time.Pause."So, Orlando," I restarted things, "are you going to get up and attempt to kick my ass, causing my friend here to shoot you, or can I return to explaining to Brennan how the world is NOT his oyster and I'm willing to slam anal beads made of flesh-eating scarabs up his rectum to prove it?"That was a gross visual, even for me. A momentary pause as Brooke and her new friend wedged their way toward me (and the girl with the gun)."Every time we meet," Estere observed, "you are surrounded with a curtain of women.""Sucks to be me?" I shrugged."At least these are sheep," she noted. That didn't go over well. Libra confronted Estere."Hey now, you can't talk about us that way," Libra insisted."Or what?" Estere regarded her."Or; or, Cáel will make you stop," Libra growled; THEN looked at me. Wrong sequence of events."Libra," I pulled her back into my embrace, "I've been on the job about a month. She's been making character-building life decisions since before I hit puberty.""What was that; a month ago," Brennan snorted. A yelp followed. Estere had shot at him. "What the fuck!" he staggered back into his seat. "You shot me.""No, I shot 'at' you. Had I shot you, you would be bleeding," Estere glowered. "I am not one of Cáel's normal guardians. I take insults to any women as a personal affront; a sickness best dealt with in a pain-filled, educational fashion. You are not bleeding because that would displease Cáel. Now say 'thank you' in the next ten seconds, or be prepared to go through life as a eunuch."Brennan looked to Orlando in hopes he had some secret mojo to handle this situation."Dumbass," Orlando snarled at Brennan, "you are the punk who put us in a room with only one damn exit. I'm not taking a bullet for you.""You are the martial artist," Brennan snapped back. "Do something!""Brennan, you had better say something quick." Casper urged her host."I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Brennan whined."I have crippled supplicants for groveling with twice that level of passion, Cáel Ishara," Estere stared at me. She began removing her silencer. "Cáel and I have unfinished business, so I will let this pathetic insult pass."She shoulder holstered her weapon and moved to sit at my side. The problem was the passel of ladies around me. Estere looked past the last woman (Brooke) to the somewhat stupefied rich thing beside her."Move," she stated politely. Unlike my difficulties earlier, the whole crowd quickly shuffled down to make space.That tiny hiccup settled, we returned to the abnormal activities of the Illusions Gentlemen's Club's private room. Some of us had fun. A few, used to tormenting the staff, found themselves shooting fearful looks Estere's way whenever they began to act out. I took a few seconds to quietly talk to Estere, now that I had some breathing room."I talked with Ishara; the Goddess," I related. "She's pissed with the Host right now and I'm not sure what to do." Divulging information? Yes. I needed help somewhat badly."Your Order has been out of balance for some time," Estere counseled. "Without balance, there can be no true strength. You are dying out and there must be a blemish behind that; some cancer eating away at the foundation of your belief system."Wow; actually useful. Essentially ; I needed to stay the course."Cool. Thanks Estere," I smiled. "Can I plumb the depths of your knowledge for two more pieces of advice?" We both knew what 'plumb' really meant. I pulled out the necklace from beneath my shirt. "An Earth and Sky envoy sent me this gift, but; the message didn't make it.""What would a suitable gift be and how would I find the person in New York City?" I asked."That is not a gift," Estere smiled warmly. "That is a token of passage from a Beg of the E and S; essentially a regional commander. Pretty impressive. Unfortunately, he, or she, is expecting you to return it at some pre-described place and time; which was probably stated in the message you never received.""My turn," she twisted in her bench seat and placed her left leg over me then inserted it between my legs. "What will be the fate of our daughter?""She will automatically be a member of the Host. Heritage passes through the male line. If she has the genetics that conspire against fate, then she would be in the running to become Head of House.""Not automatic?" she questioned."No. Such things, at least while decided by me, will be based upon merit. I couldn't keep faith with the members of the House otherwise," I explained."Would she be allowed to be passed between us?" was the next question."Absolutely. Not only am I a huge fan of motherhood; I see such an education making her stronger and more flexible when dealing with issues with outsiders," I assured Estere."You act freely. Don't you have to consult your High Priestess; perhaps the Council?" she mused. "I must seek direction from my superiors.""Over the welfare of my children? Nope, not happening. The daughters and sons of; the House are our responsibility as a group. We do not need the other Houses meddling in our affairs," I stated."That is good," she snuggled up even tighter. Sadly for that romantic moment, we had less romantic company to contend with.(Later that Night)Why was I still at Casa da Sulkanen? Brennan couldn't take a hint, buy a clue, or learn a lesson. Why was Estere with us? It was the Pamela factor. Who was going to tell her to leave? After five, non-continuous hours of sex with three women (Casper still hadn't come over to our side yet), how was I still standing? Simply put, I wasn't.Brooke and I were in the nicely heated pool, her arms wrapped around my neck, mine massaging her naked ass and us doing a little whisper/snicker/tickle/giggle game that is very whimsical and hard to explain. Brooke went from micro-orgasm to micro-orgasm to the Big One. Fortunately, our mutual experience allowed me to be in water shallow enough that my toes could touch bottom."I've decided I'm not jealous of Estere," Brooke panted into my ear. "I see the happiness in your eyes when we make love. I think you and I are doing okay." Not quite a Writ of Possession. I was working out the uncomplicated response when our gentle, body-bonded, circular motion caused Brooke to tense up. I followed her gaze to the lounge chair where we had stacked up our belongings, and the dark, dark blonde-haired women sitting in it.Her dress was business chic yet rumpled. Her eyes had the lines of someone who spent too much time looking at a computer screen and she looked mentally and emotionally drained."Good evening," I greeted her. I steered Brooke toward the closest ladder only to realize that even our towels were by her seat. There was nothing we could do but face the situation head on."I'm Cáel Nyilas and my beautiful friend here is Brooke Lee," I made our introductions. "Please excuse our condition, but we weren't expecting company at this hour by the pool.""You are not my brother's normal flock of seagulls," she commented. "Hana Sulkanen, by the way." The way 'seagulls' rolled off her tongue, I knew she meant 'winged rats' instead of any true avian.Oh cool; she had a Carnegie-Melon ring. Oh cool; she was watching my still erect penis bobbing her way. I thought a little damage control/diplomacy was in order."As I said, I'm Cáel. I work as an intern at Havenstone Commercial Investments. Brooke recently graduated Vassar, was going to get married to some other guy, but that fell through a little while ago," I directed the conversation to Brooke and I not being parasites."School?" Hana inquired. So much for that."Bolingbrook in New Hampshire," I answered."Never heard of it," she yawned. Brooke simmered with outrage over that."You and 99.99% of North America," I joked. "It doesn't change the fact that I kick ass at my job, am constantly underestimated and enjoy making my own way in the world.""And you consider making your own way in the world to be swimming in my father's pool at four in the morning?" she snorted. Her drink was a V-8. No alcohol for her."We came because Cáel's father was murdered this week," Brooke snapped. "He needed a break." That brought a few seconds."Really now," she regarded me studiously. Out came the E-device."Ferko Nyilas; Burnham Illinois which is a suburb of Chicago," I fed her the pertinent data. Brooke was even unhappier that I felt compelled to verify her statement, so I distracted her by suggesting we gather our belongings."Your father was killed in a gun battle; still under investigation," Hana muttered."Are you some sort of criminal? Was your father?" she probed."Ah, I see you possess the same level of common courtesy as your brother, Brennan," I responded. "To answer the first and only question I feel like answering; no; making my own way in the world means I don't answer the questions of exhausted, over-extended, junior plutocrats who somehow assume they can provide any useful input to my life."Verbal hammer to her facial self-esteem. Hana was a 'producer' in that she had a job she felt she deserved, worked at it to some acclaim and added to her family's productivity; the opposite of Brennan."If you feel insulted, by all means leave, Mr. Nyilas," Hana glared."Oh, thank God," I sighed happily. I began dressing, as did Brooke. Hana looked uncertain."Cáel's been looking for a cordial excuse to get us out of here since we arrived," Brooke explained. "I imagine I should thank you. I wasn't sure how I'd keep Cáel from punching out your little brother over breakfast." Hana looked out-maneuvered."What is that?" Hana pointed to my horse-hoof necklace. She almost reached for it, then politesse kicked in."It is gift from a stranger," I told her. "It is from Central Asia.""May I see it?" she inquired. I nodded, then handed it over."Looks old," she muttered. "The language; it's not Uzbek;” Seeing the curious look on my face, "I do some business for my step-father in the old SSR's, so I've picked up some of the languages." Then, "I swear it's Chagatai." (SSR = Soviet Socialist Republics.)"Where is that from?" Brooke leaned in."Nowhere today. For 500 years, it was the lingua franca of the Turkish people ; until the Soviets wiped it out a hundred years ago. They wanted Russian to be the unifying language, so they promoted regional tongues and regulated Chagatai to the long list of dead languages," she answered.I added my attempt at Russian conversation; "In Soviet Russia, you do not speak a language, a language speaks for you." I joked.Hana snorted. Then replied in her Russian; "Be careful comrade, or your cleverness might get you promoted to the rank of apparatchik," she snickered. I feigned horror."No!" Brooke protested. "Speak something I can understand, damn it."I quickly translated for Brooke as the three of us migrated inside. Hana led us to a third, and newer, section of the estate. The goal was her purse and the reading glasses there in. Compared to the few bedrooms we'd seen, Hana's room was rather austere."Well, I know Uzbek and this is similar; say Canterbury Tales English to Modern American," she mused."The only thing I know for sure is that it belonged to Shahrukh Mirza of the House of Barlas," she read off several of the symbols. No one said anything. "Please don't tell me you found this at some rummage sale, or flea market." she grew intense."No. As I said earlier, it was a gift and given with the understanding it would be returned at a future place and time," I told her."Too bad. I would pay a pretty penny for this," she held it up to the light for further examination."I'm not one of those dreamers that feels money cheapens stuff and blah; blah; blah. Money has its uses," I countered. "I also believe some things are priceless. They either can't, or shouldn't, be sold. As I said, this was a gift meant to be returned.""Maybe you can put me in touch with the owner so I can make them an offer," Hana suggested."I'd do that except that I have no idea who gave it to me, or where I am to return it," I shrugged. Hana was now looking for some deception on my part. "It was delivered to my place of work and a person who intercepted the necklace destroyed the message that came with it.""Well, I hope they got a stiff reprimand, if not outright loss of employment," Hana sighed."Oh no," I chuckled. "That's not the Havenstone way. My people and I are going to stalk her and her people down and then beat/stab/scar each and every one of them. What she did wasn't a mistake. This was a direct and calculated insult that only blood will cleanse.""That sounds positively Old Testament," Hana nodded."Cáel's women don't kid around," Brooke added."Really, now. What is it exactly that you do?" Hana asked me."This should be good," Brooke muttered through her saucy grin."I'm a facilitator for an aerospace project with our R and D division," I feigned concentration. "Its high-tech stuff; I don't understand all the details. I'm relatively positive we are creating nano-thin, artificial polymers for balloons aimed at space. You know, fill up the aerial unit with Helium, create a powerful x-direction buoyancy then let the package accelerate into high orbit.""I've never heard of anything like that," Hana furrowed her brow."Neither has anyone else before now," Brooke laughed, then hugged me. "The miraculous part is; I think he creates these employment opportunities off the cuff; no rehearsal.""Wait; you just lied to me?" Hana grew petulant."Yes, I did and I apologize, Hana," I looked rather shamefaced. "I work as an intern for Executive Services. I am also on the Board of Directors, but that's a truth best gotten into at another time.""Oh; if you are on the Board of Directors for Havenstone, how can you be an intern?" Hana frowned."I was given the position on the board, I earned the position of intern," I answered. "Being a guiding force for a corporation I know nothing about is rather stupid, in my book.""I couldn't agree more," Hana said thoughtfully and seemed make a severe weather-vane shift. Brooke stifled a yawn rather unsuccessfully and it quickly made a circuit of our little troupe. It was bedtime for us all.(Breakfast and fast breaks)I could have used a good deal more sleep. But I knew working out and jogging were better for my body and soul. Brooke and Libra acted as if I had betrayed their friendship in favor of torture. Estere took secretive amusement at their suffering and at my ability to stress myself as hard as I did. She had already enjoyed the physical benefits of my exercise mania last night.A wonderful distraction to the whole ordeal (beyond listening to Libra and Brooke spit death curses at me between ragged gasps of breath) was the rising sun setting the Atlantic Ocean on fire.We had been summoned for breakfast at 9:30 am. That translated to me and three lady companions showing up to an overly large dining room on time to find Hana already there.The South wall was a series of French doors, all open, whose long white curtains billowed in the morning breeze. It was a bit chilly for our 'beach casual' attire, yet survivable. A staffer I hadn't seen before verbally related this morning's menu; blink. By quick consensus, we agreed to order the same things to make our orders easier to recall.In hindsight, that was probably unnecessary. The woman servicing us was very professional. She was also sympathetic enough to our efforts at kindness to acknowledge it. The vigor with which we demolished our fruit bowls caused Hana to chuckle."Building up your energy reserves?" she teased us. Libra and Estere didn't know Hana."He made us run this morning," Brooke griped. "It was utter Hell.""On the beach?" Hana asked me."Yeah," I replied."Try running along the road next time," Hana snorted. "It is easier on the arches."Libra hit me with a backhand to the bicep."Asshole," she glowered. "You had better get those magic fingers to work on my calves when breakfast is over.""What's in it for me?" I countered."Oh, have mercy, Cáel," Brooke pleaded. "You do this every day; as does Estere apparently, but Libra and I don't. Help us out here.""We have a masseuse," Hana offered. "He's very good. I can give him a call and have him come over from the spa.""Please do, Ms. Sulkanen. I'm feeling a real yen for some time alone this morning," I requested."I can do that, Cáel, and call me Hanna," she finished just as;"Hey Hana," Brennan yawned as he came stumbling into the room wearing boxers and nothing more. "Brooke, Kibble, Lisa," he added. His not unimpressive cock was strategically placed in the opening.Hana rolled her eyes in disgust. Brooke snickered. Libra did one better."I didn't know they made them that small," she said to Brooke who began giggling."Shut up, you lesbian freak," Brennan's amusement evaporated to bitterness. The attendant showed up, got his order and then the orders of the next two to stagger in.The low course of the conversation included the arrival of Orlando and his fiancée, only to dissipate with the appearance of Anima leading Casper. Casper could barely take her seat, even with Anima's help. Anima's look was victorious and challenging. Casper; she was stoned, wasted and not in anything approaching her right mind. Her body was sweaty and her hair was slick.The kicker was the splotches of dried semen and vaginal fluid on Casper's face."Say 'hi' to Cáel," Anima pressed the issue."Hi," Casper waved as her body swayed. Hana was uncomfortable. Libra and Brooke were furious. Estere was; studious. Anima's eyes remained lock on mine.I pulled out my phone and began taking pictures of the participants. By the time I made it to Brennan, he was laughing and joking at my efforts. Orlando had a different tack."What are you doing?" he menaced."Life should be about moral decisions, compassion and consequences," I related drolly. "You made your call last night. Live with it."I finished the photo session while Orlando was still trying to figure out what was going on. I had to use my phone for a different function."Buffy, I'm sending you several pictures of people who think they are above the law. Those people raped, or facilitated the rape of the woman in the final picture," I told the First of House Ishara. "I cautioned those people about appropriate behavior last night.""They chose to ignore me. The legal system can't touch them. I don't know what a proper punishment for such a horrendous act is, so I thought you might give me some council on this matter," I added. Long pause."Don't worry about it, Cáel," Buffy responded in a ghostly voice."Take care and I'll see you on Monday," I finished up. She hung up and that was it."That was spooky," Brennan chuckled. "How about I make a scary phone call and mention the words 'Cáel' and 'trash collection'?"I ignored him."I could call the sheriff and have you charged with menacing."I continued to ignore him."Stop serving him," he snapped at the server as she came to my plate."Serve him breakfast, Donna (the server)," Hana interrupted. "He's my guest, Brennan, so no longer your worry." I didn't acknowledge Hana's kindness as this was still part of a family feud and I wasn't family. I'd thank her later. The Vacuous Think Tank members weren't done yet. The privileged shit-heads began playing a video on their ultimate phone devices, sexually feeble soundtrack included.Deep down in Casper's mind she began to put the current audio input to her recent nightmare. Tears fell down her cheeks. On the video, the name 'Casper' was used enough to move it past the throws of ecstasy into the realm of sorry-ass amateur date-rape porn."We may have broken Casper a teensy bit," Anima feigned sincere regret well."Oh," I chuckled, "it is too late for word play now, Anima. That train has left the station and the whole crew here missed it. I warned you about slithering horrors and the beautification of humanity. Here is the final lesson;""Fuck you and your bullshit," Brennan mocked me."Brennan; my guest," Hana insisted. His response was to blather some noise; nah, nah, nah; an act several of his playmates took up. It was a display more appropriate for 5 year olds than men and women above the age of consent. Estere tapped Brooke next to her, motioning with her fork to a melon ball in her bowl. After a momentarily confusion Brooke tossed the melon up.Estere tossed the fork, skewering it with enough force to sail past me and land on Libra's plate. Two more exhibits, including the final one that had her spitting her thrown melon on a tumbling fork and Estere turned on Brennan, fork ready. The melons were nearly the size of eyeballs."Do it and go to jail for fucking ever," Brennan tried to 'man-up'."Diplomatic immunity," she smiled. "I doubt the government of Azerbaijan will give a rat's ass about you and your drug-consuming, alcohol-guzzling, whoring lifestyle. The worst that happens to me is that I have to go home for a few months. You will be blind forever." Estere revealed her second fork."Not this morning, Bitch," Orlando stood up. "I'm not afraid of forks and side-show tricks." I stood up as well, but went in a different direction. Brennan was at the top of the table; Hana was at the bottom. Casper and Anima were on the opposite side of the table and closer to Hana so that was the route I took.Anima, Brennan and Orlando had a problem. Estere was threatening Brennan. I was clearly coming to retrieve Casper. The quandary was which way Orlando went; he couldn't both safeguard Brennan and stop me. I was pretty sure that Brennan was convinced Orlando would come his aid because of his role as paymaster.Orlando Keyes wasn't a thug, or a dog. He was a tactician and he planned to win this fight. Contrary to my desires, that meant I came first. I was far closer and getting nearer all the time. Even if Estere managed to fork out one of Brennan's eyes, Estere couldn't contribute to the fight with me quickly enough to make a difference."Casper, you want to stay with your friends, don't you?" Anima cooed to her victim. Casper's head bobbled, making a tragic contrast to her tears. Hana had done as much as she dared at this juncture. Orlando came closer, snatching up an unused chair to counter my knife. I backed up. It was my only true choice.Charging forth against Orlando certainly would have been romantic. It would have also been futile. I couldn't beat the man; hurting him didn't equate to actually winning. Estere blinding Brennan accomplished nothing. When I had back-pedaled to Hana, Orlando relented. Once his bladder-weakening fear turned into post-survival euphoria, Brennan started laughing."Fucking dipshit," he sneered. The thump of helicopter blades began dominating perceptions. "I knew you didn't have it in you. You are a wimp and a chicken-shit coward." Brooke and Libra were worried and confused."He could not win against Mr. Keyes," Estere stated to them. "Getting pummeled would have been a wasteful gesture.""Oh, now you are his apologist." a random fuck-nut snorted. The helicopter kept getting closer."What about Casper?" Brooke worried. Anima smirked at the show of heartfelt concern."They haven't gotten her out of the room yet," Estere pointed out. "Once they depart the table we will be able to double-team Mr. Keyes and break him. The aftermath is an absolute certainty.""I don't think so," Orlando challenged."Oh yes," Estere grinned wolfishly. "Once we have you on the ground, I'm going to shatter your palms then tear off your fingers. Pull up, twist and snap; I've done it several times; it is quick and easy. If you think you can continue your career without fists, by all means, stay on your present course of action.""What is it that you do again?" Hana asked Estere."I'm a; a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer; according to Cáel anyway," she answered."From Azerbaijan?" Hana murmured."I never said I was from there, only that I have diplomatic status with their UN mission," Estere clarified. Hana said something in an unknown tongue to which Estere responded. Their conversation lasted about one minute."We both speak Farsi, though mine is 'schooled' and hers has a Tabriz accent," Hana enlightened us."I apologize for last night, Cáel," Hana nodded. "I mistook you for one of my little step-brother's normal crowd of useless nitwits. You appear to be both smart and know interesting people." 'And how', I muttered internally."I take it your daughter is with Philip," Brennan intervened. "Miss her?"By this time, the helicopter had traversed the ocean-side view of the villa and was humming its way to the east end of the estate. Philip must have been Hana's divorced whatever who most likely had alternating weekends of child custody."Cáel, you mentioned something about a 'final lesson'," Hana turned to me."Only this: there was a woman who trusted a man. She decided to leave him; so he, and a few buddies, held her down and gang-raped her for two days. When they passed out, she didn't run away, or call the police. No, she took a baseball bat and knocked them into la-la land. She secured them with garbage ties, woke them up by stabbing them in non-vital areas and then proceeded to castrate each and every one with a dull kitchen knife.She went to prison, got out and put her life back together. She eventually rose to a position of some importance and influence with various questionable characters at her command," I continued. "If confronted with a similar situation, especially when money renders justice mute, I'm not sure what this woman would do to assuage her haunted memories.""Do you really want to put poor Casper up on the top twenty free porn sites, Cáel?" Anima pouted."Not my concern anymore," I sighed. "I put the facts out there. What other people make of that information is no longer under my control. From here on out, it doesn't matter what you do, Anima. You've chosen to act in a heinous manner, as have the rest of your crowd; Orlando and his lady included.""If something happens;” Orlando rumbled."You will do nothing," Estere laughed. "You can do nothing. I know the person of whom Cáel speaks and there is nothing you can do, nowhere you can hide where she will not find all of you and balance karmic accounts.""We didn't do anything," the fiancée proclaimed."Standing back and abetting a vile deed is hardly an effective defense," Estere stared with pitiless eyes. "Did you attempt to alter Mr. Keyes' course of actions; you clearly could have? You did not. Mr. Keyes safeguarded the perpetrators of the heinous deed, and thus both of you are condemned by that crime."The boot was on the other foot now for Orlando. He couldn't come at me. He couldn't come at Estere. None of the 'men' on his side were going to stand up to any pain while Brooke and Libra, though unschooled, looked ready to be a serious nuisance. That meant Orlando would be fighting Estere and I simultaneously; and he would lose.Worse, he would lose over a phone call that might not mean a thing. Oh, Estere and I were confident retribution was coming his way and that was unsettling. It wouldn't hold up in court and Hana's presence negated everyone else's legal immunity, except for Brennan who remained her family- the nut sack. Anima's gaze shifted from me to Libra, which my girl found unsettling."Cáel, what is going to happen; over this and getting Casper back?" Libra whispered. For starters, we hadn't rescued Casper yet, so there was no 'getting her back'."Libra, you've seen the scars crisscrossing my body; the bruises and sore ribs I've suffered through," I told her."Those were from the co-workers who hold deep and abiding affection toward me," I continued. "Imagine what they are capable of inflicting on those they do not like. Think about what they might do if they thought I was in danger and distressed. Couple that with the intimate knowledge of exactly what Casper has gone through ; is going through, and then draw your own conclusions." There was a pause while the others ate and Libra digested the information."Are we ever going to see Trent again?" she leaned in and whispered."It can be done, but that it isn't something either of you would enjoy," I whispered out of the side of my mouth. Sending Brooke and Libra on a one-way flight to Indonesia/Philippines definitely wasn't part of my life plan. It was the safest way to let her know Trent was alive."Does Brooke know?" Libra nudged me quietly. I shook my head. "Does Trent?" Another head shake. Pause. "That day in the office; when Trent dumped Brooke; you really were trying to keep us from harm, weren't you?""Yes," I mouthed. "Now eat up."The helicopter noises had a purpose and the consequences entered the dining room as breakfast was winding down. It was Jormo and Misty Sulkanen, aka Dad and Wife #3."Brennan," Jormo said in a neutral voice. We, Brennan's guests, barely rated a glance."Hana," Dad greeted his step-daughter with much more affection."Hey Dad," Brennan laughed. "You've almost missed Orlando here busting up Kibble," he waved a fork at me."Good Morning, Father," Hana waved, "Misty.""Kibble?" Jormo sighed, distracted from his path further into the villa by his son's statement."That would be me, Mr. and Mrs. Sulkanen," I swallowed a piece of my omelet quickly and raised my hand, "though my fellow homo sapiens call me Cáel Nyilas.""Mr. Nyilas, along with Brooke, Libra and Estere have agreed to be MY guests for the weekend," Hana added."Very well," her dad nodded. "Mr. Keyes, your endorsement contract with 'Fitness Tech' doesn't include you getting into fights on my behalf, or my son's." Mr. Sulkanen must have owned Fitness Tech, thus Brennan's believed power over an athlete endorsing some product."It also doesn't stop me from getting into unsanctioned bouts," Orlando glared at me. The tension was broken by Casper starting to sob loudly and uncontrollably.We all did the standing-up game once more. This time Casper saw me coming back for her and stood up. Anima tried to calm the shaken woman. Orlando closed in."New target," Estere stated serenely. She had a fork at the ready and was staring at Orlando's fiancée. It gave me the opening I needed.I took hold of Casper's left arm. Anima took Casper's right. This time she had misjudged the situation and I wasn't settling for a vocal educational moment. I pushed Casper aside, put both hands under Anima's arms and lifted her up."I told you this wasn't a game you wanted to play," I cautioned her right before I slammed her length-wise on the table.Anima's head cracked-down hard and the breath was driven from her body."Mr. Nyilas!" Mr. Sulkanen shouted. "What do you think you are doing to Anima?""I'm not being an enabling bastard, Sir," I growled back. "Come on, Casper," I began leading her back to my seat."Why don't we see what security has to say about that," Jormo shot back angrily."Father, something has happened to the young lady; Casper; and neither Anima, nor Brennan, were adequately helping her," Hana stood up. "The last time Cáel tried, Mr. Keyes got in his way. This time, Anima discovered she wasn't the same level of deterrent.""He slammed Anima into the table, Hana," the old wolf snarled. There was nothing wrong with this guy's macho. Anima shot me a treasured, smug glance as she rolled off the table. The spiraling tension was a super-cell caused by the Hana-Brennan poison and Jormo's displeasure with me. Hana decided to not abandon me, which allowed Brennan to go after her like a starving piranha."Hold on," Misty tried to calm the pseudo-sibling shouting match. She strode majestically over to me, Casper, and Libra to take a look at our charge. Within a meter there was no doubt what Casper had been put through. The smell of an orgy's aftermath, the tattered look, the listless smile belying her tears and her inability to focus, clearly chilled Misty.We were thrust back into Sulkanen family politics. The purely human reaction was for Misty to lambast Anima and Brennan then call the cops. Except, Misty was wife number three, Hana was step-daughter from marriage number two; not even blood-relations with Jormo, and Brennan was a blood-heir for what little time he had left on Earth."Come with me," Misty curled an arm around Casper's waist."We are coming with you," Brooke announced."That won't be necessary," Misty smiled wanly."That wasn't a request," Brooke snapped angrily. "After this, I don't trust any of 'you' people."That went over as well as a father realizing his son looked like the butler. Jormo's demeanor turned thunderous; he was being disrespected in his own home, Brennan looked happily vindictive and the rest didn't matter at the moment."Young lady;” the old wolf growled."Shut up!" Brooke screamed. "The fact that neither you, nor any of your people, are calling 9 1 1 speaks volumes about the lack of character and untrustworthiness of your clan, Mr. Sulkanen."Brooke had just discovered her noblesse oblige. All that crap I'd been talking about the upper crust of society, the top 1% etc.; here was finally the 'face slap' that was married to the 'backhand' so many of us lower class schmucks experienced. Sulkanen was nouveau riche; a self-made man if you considered coming to America with three million in family assets to be a low enough starting point.Brooke wasn't going to attack his credit rating, or bad-mouth him to his business associates. No, there were a ton of socially critical charities and committees that were about to be told by an impeccable source (Brooke) that Dad Sulkanen harbored his rapist son from criminal prosecution. No, this wasn't some 'nobody' being defended either. Casper wasn't known, but she was notable."You can certainly leave," the Old Man rumbled. "The young lady stays. I'm calling Security and my concierge physician.""Go," I glanced to Estere and off she sprinted. A moment too slow, Brennan and Orlando clued into the threat. Orlando took after Estere."She's got a gun!" Brennan squealed. Jormo was busy dispensing orders over his phone as the situation spiraled. But then there was Hana."Mr. Nyilas, please exert some control over this situation," Hana urged."I'll try. Brooke, why don't you, Libra and Mrs. Sulkanen take Casper to a more comfortable setting," I suggested."What about your Azerbaijani friend?" Hana pressed."Oh," I chuckled. "Me giving Estere advice about conflict resolution is like me giving you advice on," I had to wrack my mind about something the Sulkanens were invested in, "natural gas exploration. She'll be fine.""This way," Misty directed. I was so much more enamored and impressed with my two princesses than I had been during our initial meeting. They both shot me quick looks that said the same thing. They knew I was sending them out of harm's way, not exiling them from the decision-making process.Only three of the remaining people weren't scared; myself (I'm an idiot), Anima (sick fuck) and Jormo Sulkanen, who seemed to know the difference between fear you could do something about, and the fear you ignored. We heard bellows from upstairs as Orlando finally discovered that he didn't know what room my group was staying in and that Estere had evaded him.The hopeful-to-be Mrs. Keyes stood up and looked in the direction her fiancé had disappeared into."Don't worry," I said. "The moment Hana expressed the bonds of hospitality to Ms. Abed, you were protected from premeditated mischief." I wasn't 100% sure of that. Keeping the woman from racing after Estere was crucial.The two security types showed up first. They must have had some part of the house dedicated to their use, because I had no idea they were about, yet here they were. They wore moderately expensive, off-the-rack suits, seemed to be in decent physical condition and had pistols and stun guns. One word from Jormo and the guns came out. They had the polished look of pretend-professionals.Had I not worked at Havenstone and seen its malicious underbelly, I would have been impressed. As it was, how could things go more wrong? They split up; one going after Orlando and Estere and the other closing cautiously with me. He looked cool, but his gun was held too high and he blithely came within hand-to-hand combat range.Oh please, everyone I cared about had left the room. If this guy and I wrestled for his piece, I could have cared less who got shot while it was his damn job to see that no one besides me got a scratch. I was sure his corporate employer cautioned him about such mistakes a lot; because he still had the safety engaged on his firearm. I'm an idiot; I'm an idiot; I'm an idiot."Your bitch is going to get shot now, Cocksucker," Brennan sneered. The security guy was reaching for my arm to pull me away from the table. He hadn't bother to ask me, instead being engrossed in his ear piece chatter. I snatched his gun from his grasp, disengaged the safety and pointed it at the guy."Put the stun gun on the table then back up nice and slow," I eye-balled the shocked man.I was pretty sure that was the moment Brennan wet himself. No one said a thing. The guard did as I requested, then backed away. At three meters, I dropped out the magazine then put it on the table. Next, I removed the chambered round from the pistol and put them both on the table."Mr. Sulkanen, you don't know me so I'm cutting you some slack right now," I sighed."Dad, his father was murdered Monday night in a gunfight," Hana interrupted. "Pointing a gun at him probably wasn't the best course of action.""So it appears," Jormo glared at me."G; get your gun back, you idiot," Brennan squawked at the guard.I slid the stun gun to Hana then reloaded the pistol before handing it back to the guy, grip first."Keep your distance to two meters, or more, unless you have a partner ; and whoever taught you to keep the safety engaged is a moron. Guns aren't toys, so don't treat it like one," I told him. The guy took his gun back."You served?" he muttered to me. Me? In the military; I guess I now qualified."Nah, I work with a bunch of girls at the Customer Complaint desk at a major telemarketing firm. After a few weeks on the job, you learn to get squirrely when you see people coming into the office with trench coats in this early summer heat," I said. So much implied with no real information."Oh God," Hana snorted in amusement. "You really do that job thing all the time," she giggled, "don't you?""At Havenstone, my sadistic task-mistresses often require me to think on my feet, so I've learned to share the love at work and abroad," I nodded."What?" Jormo scowled."Cáel Nyilas is on the Board of Directors at Havenstone, as well as an intern for their Executive Services division," Hana stated. "He is learning about the corporation from the bottom up.""Bullshit," Brennan snapped."Can you prove this, Mr. Nyilas?" Jormo challenged me."Normally your recognition would mean nadda to me, but Hana has gone out of her way to be nice to my friends," I agreed. "Who do you want me to call that you will believe?""I don't actually know anyone at Havenstone Commercial," he admitted."Wait!" I had a brainstorm. "Call Javiera Castello. She'll verify who I am and she's pretty much as 'an unimpeachable source' as I'm likely to get.""Who is she?" Hana pulled out her phone."She's an United States Attorney for the District Court of the Northern District of Illinois," I babbled."Are you sure we can reach her on the weekend?" Hana was already networking. She wasn't a lawyer; she was a power player, if a small one."Tell her you think Cáel Nyilas is involved with some crime, and she'll be in touch ASAP," I assured her.The call went in to her team of corporate lawyers and the countdown began. Brennan decided it was time to migrate away from the danger, so he and his buddies decided to take the yacht out after changing; by way of using its crew to escape. Anima elected to remain behind. She kept expecting a reaction from me. She wasn't getting one.No anger, sullenness, contempt, or pity. I'd save my anger for those a bit farther from the grave. I wasn't sullen because her victory wasn't a victory. It was a loss for both of us. I had requested that she exert some self-control in my presence and she hadn't; end of discussion. I certainly didn't pity her. Anima was evil, not merely a creature ruled by compulsions.She had thought I was bluffing. I wasn't. Anima thought she was in an emotional endurance match and if she waited long enough, my façade would crack and she'd get her first taste of my pain. Twenty-four minutes. That was the time it took Javiera to call back."Yes, Ms. Castello," Hana answered, "I have Mr. Nyilas here with me right now.""What's he done wrong; that's difficult to explain," Hana began. I heard the laughter coming from the other end. "You sound like this happens to him a good deal." Talking. "That doesn't sound promising." Talking. "I'm not a criminal legal talent, but I'll give it a shot. Theft, theft of a firearm, assault, obtuse death threats and possible possession of a stolen object." Talking.Hana gave me her phone. At the same moment, Estere dropped down in front of one of those beautiful French doors with their southern exposure and sauntered back into the dining room. Her hastily applied clothing additions suggested she was better armed. The guard gave a startled jolt as Estere drew even with him."Don't worry about him," I told Estere while covering the phone with my hand. "I chambered in the first round backwards." Estere smirked. The guy tested his piece and, sure enough, a normally chambered round popped out; I had lied. The poor bastard gave me a nasty stare. Estere's look to me was pricelessly appreciative.Ninja were all about stealth, the Black Hand was all about making use of whatever weapon was handy; and the Hashashin were all about misdirection and deception. Estere was a Mistress of M and D giving a young trainee a congratulatory nod. Would the guard search Estere for weapons? Not anymore. Now he was worried his pistol would fall apart and Hana had never returned his stun gun.His confidence had been shattered before combat had actually begun."Hello, USA Castello," I spoke into the phone."How are you going to get out of this mess this time?" she began."Can't I simply be innocent?" I pleaded."No," Javiera asserted with authority. "Now tell me what is going on.""For the sake of the interested parties swarming about; some with guns; I'll use pseudonyms. 'A' invited 'B' to his domicile for the weekend. 'B' invited me and 'C' to come along. 'A' had a friend, 'D' plus a cast of assorted losers.'A' and 'D' also had 'E' here for the weekend. She trusted them so ended up drugged and sexually assaulted; a great deal. Video was made," Estere tapped my left upper arm and exhibited her phone suggesting to me she'd gained access to the video the group had taken of Casper. "'F' showed up and decided to help myself, 'B' and 'C' get 'E', only to be outmuscled by 'G'.'H' shows up, takes charge, and decides that myself, 'B', 'C' and 'I' (new friend) should leave while he sits on 'E' and waits for the bought-and-paid for doctor to show up. Goodbye any evidence, trot out the legion of lawyers, crucify the victim and justice dies," I related."What do you want me to do?" Javiera sighed. She believed me.She also believed that I was going to seek revenge for the young lady and while she had to publically chastise me and privately urge me to stop, she knew what motivated me."The caller wanted some confirmation that I'm a Big Wheel at Havenstone along with being an intern," I stated. "Personally I could care less, but 'E's fate is in jeopardy."I handed the phone to the guard after motioning toward Jormo. A few seconds later, he had his own little chat with Javiera. I had a feeling it was rather heated. Was I who Hana claimed I was? Yes. Was I a criminal? No comment on ongoing investigations."Is he dangerous?"I imagine she said 'What do you consider dangerous?' because Jormo wasn't pleased. After a pause, the conversation from Javiera's side picked back up."What do you mean, 'have I crossed him?' You are a part of the Federal law enforcement process. You are paid to handle those things. Now answer me," Jormo simmered.I imagine it boiled down to 'yes, I was a dangerous human being' and 'no, I wasn't a homicidal maniac' which didn't help him much. That concluded Javiera's participation in events."Do you think you can inconvenience me, young man?" he shot his steely gaze my way."Mr. Sulkanen, there are precisely two things keeping me away from you; basic civility," I enlightened him, "and Hana.""I have discovered in a few short months that there is nothing as precious a resource as nice people. The world is overwhelmed with assholes with a highly overestimated sense of their worth in the greater scheme of things. I do not hate you, or like you. You do not register on my interpersonal radar," I said."You think you've learned some harsh life lessons, Mr. Nyilas? You don't know anything," Jormo met me anger for anger. Hana, in her short time, had gained a far better picture of me."Cáel, he is my father," Hana called to me. "You know about paternal respect, don't you?" That was a good shot on her part; painful, but not crippling."You are right, Hana. I am in your father's house and I owe him both that respect and the respect for how he treasures your person," I responded. The tension began to bleed away. Jormo wasn't an ass-hole, just driven by an iron determination to get his way. It had made him stinking rich and, I was beginning to think, outwardly ruthless.Why weren't Brooke, Libra, Estere and I being flung out of his home after our collision? Hana. That man had the same honest and trusted affection for the step-daughter that wasn't even his offspring as my father held for me. You don't mistake it once you've witnessed it. He knew this wasn't her vagina talking. He held Hana in higher regard.Hana saw something in me that made her stand up to both him and Brennan. I doubted that happened often. Hana made the call and her step-father honored it; end of the debate for now. That meant Hana, Estere and I went to find Casper and the others. Libra was helping the focus of such anguish shower off. It had been accepted there would be no police rape inquiry.Another advance, if you could call it that, had occurred in my relationship with Brooke and Libra. Their quick glances said it all- 'Get the bastards' and they expected it to get done. Like Odette and the now-deceased Latin Kings, those two didn't truly understand what that meant. In this case, most likely messy, painful deaths for those who would learn too late that a little law is a good thing; it keeps the really nasty things, like the truly lawless, at bay.There was no mention of events passing beyond my control. Those two had no idea where their wealth came from, what homes they owned outright, versus still under mortgage, or rented, and what their actual tax rate was; as opposed to the mythical 'tax bracket' the masses dreamed the rich were in.Casper came right at me, even slipping out of the towel Misty, and the newly arrived maid, tried to get around her. Why? I had gained an unanticipated affliction. Girls in the worst possible mindsets wanted to trust me. Oneida, Cameron, Wiesława and now Casper homed in on me being a gentle, honest and trustworthy soul; but damn it! I wasn't!I wrapped my arms tightly around Casper, making her feel snug, safe and warm. I lied to her. I told her things were going to be okay. We'd work things out and she'd get better in no time. No one was going to get to her while her 'real' friends were around and we promised to stick around as long as it took. This was supposed to be my vacation. I need to stop making plans for the future and avoid the disappointment from having my hopes trampled by cruel reality.(Saturday Night)The Hamptons gathering had transformed from a post-college exploration to a mature gathering. We had an adult-level task laid out before us; creating an emotional buffer zone for Casper. I gave Estere an 'out'. There would be no more 'fun time' this weekend. She elected to stay anyway.When we moved out to a cliff-side patio for dinner, Brennan and company showed up, sans Orlando and his lady. Casper tensed up, Hana and I rallied and put up a warding wall, so the cast of idiots settled for taunting Casper as she shivered behind us. Because, you know, all of this was one big joke;I had enough peripheral awareness to not get blind-sided by Casper. Hana didn't and went tumbling into Anima. Casper launched herself at Brennan. He had some under-developed martial talent while Casper was clearly driven by frantic energy alone. Brennan received a few scratches then flipped Casper over his shoulder and down hard on the patio's deck.A punch to her face was coming Casper's way when I pushed Brennan several steps back. The one scumbag who attempted to get behind me took an ice cube to the eye, courtesy of Estere. His yelp allowed me to yank Casper up and circle my arms around her."The whore scratched me," Brennan exhibited his scarred forearm. "I guess she goes to jail now."I didn't do anything and I think three of the ladies were thinking I should. Brennan snorted. Now for a lesson in community."Okay," I shrugged. "Casper can go do jail." By the depth of her whimper, that wasn't what Casper wanted at all. I looked to Libra and Brooke. Giving someone the unwarranted label of 'snob' was wrong and those two ladies were going to exhibit that.Libra hurled her drink from the patio table at Brennan. She missed but that was okay. Brooke missed as well."I guess we are going to jail with Casper," Brooke declared as they moved up. Casper wiggled around in my grasp so she could take in the scene. "We'll stick with you, Casper.""Bitches!" Brennan snapped. "What the fuck;""These people can't help you, Casper," Anima stepped up. "You are in trouble now and they don't know trouble.""You are horrible," Brooke seethed in response."Why all the hostility?" Anima gave a disarming smile. Libra had definitely tapped into her 'Inner Cáel'. That was only fair, since her 'Outer Cáel' had been tapping her pretty vigorously."Because we are better than you and you consistently fail to acknowledge that, you soulless tramp," Libra volleyed."Cáel, I apologize so much for bringing you here this weekend," Brooke touched me."I'm not," I squeezed Casper. Crap, I could use a break. It was so wrong that I suddenly wished for Monday and to be back to the work week. It was even screwier that I thought that would give me any sort of relief; it wouldn't."Touching, but foolish," Anima sighed with amusement. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket. She made a call then showed the device to Casper. "I'm sure your boyfriend will be very impressed with last night's antics. Of course, he may expect a repeat performance." Casper trembled. I rubbed her back as she sobbed into my shoulder and bicep."I'm not very impressed with your virtue," Anima sounded disappointed in me."You and your ilk deserve only two words; 'Good bye'," Estere sounded serene. "As a general instruction, anyone on this deck that I do not like and that hasn't left by the exits in the next three minutes will be flying over the railing.""This is my fucking house!" Brennan shouted."Actually, it is Dad's house, Brennan," Hana smiled."He's not your father, shit-for-brains," he snapped."Brennan, for every time you have forced your way into my life through bratty behavior; I consider this moment long overdue," Hana snorted."I'm not leaving," he took a defiant stance."Good," Hana laughed. "In; ""Two minutes 25 seconds," Estere supplied the data."I'm taking every other lady and leaving, locking the doors behind me," Hana kept grinning."Before I leave, I will ask Cáel to physically obstruct the stairs leading down the bluff," she added. "Then it will be you and Ms. Abed. She is going to kick all of your asses, I'm not letting you

Living the nightmare; hungering for a normal life. In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand. Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected.. “If your heart starts the fight, you can lose without regret.”  (Thursday Night) It was well past the descent of Night's veil when the Havenstone jet landed outside of New York City. Naomi and team gathered us up and led us to the main building downtown. An unlooked for conflict developed. Naomi's team was there to present me to Hayden. Rachel's team was still focused on securing my wellbeing and they didn't like the attitude Naomi's squad was giving off. With Buffy (Helena was in a different car), there was no concealing Rachel's hostility toward the latest group of SD ladies. The new group was treating me like a 'package', not a Head of House, and that infuriated my First too. All of that ill-will simmered as we made our way to Havenstone. The situation was compounded by the elevator ride. Naomi, her team, Buffy, Rachel and I went into the first elevator. By the time we made it to the top few floors, it was clear that the rest were not immediately following along. The situation ratcheted up to nasty when Naomi demanded Buffy's firearm. Buffy looked ready to use it. "Buffy; gun," I held out my hand, palm up. Buffy reluctantly handed it over. I walked over to the nearest trash can, dropped out the clip, chambered out the first round then dumped the entirety into the trash receptacle. "If they touched it, the weapon would be fouled and not fit for a true Amazon," I explained to Buffy. "Best to save your noble tool the indignity and dispense with it instead." Buffy snorted with amusement, Naomi's crew pretended not to care while Rachel was deeply disturbed. It took a perfunctory gesture to stop Buffy outside Hayden's office. In I went to face Hayden, Katrina, Saint Marie and Troika of House Šauška alone. Šauška was the 'sister goddess' of Ishara; together they formed Ishtar in later incarnations. I didn't believe Troika was here for any sister solidarity this time around. "Why did you do this? Start a war; is this your hatred of Amazon culture shining through, trying to get us all killed in some global struggle against the other Secret Societies?" Hayden opened up with in an even tone. "No," I kept it succinct. They waited for more of an explanation. "Do you have anything you can say to defend your actions?" Troika glared. "I don't need to defend my actions," I regarded her as if she was of alien origin. "The actions speak for themselves." "Why don't you explain it to us, Ishara?" Saint Marie rumbled. Insulted yet again. As an equal, I warranted the use of my first name. "Do I have your permission to fully and completely lay out my reasoning without everyone closing in like a pack of hyenas on a leopard?" I looked to Hayden; not happy. She gave a curt nod. It wasn't like running away would get me far. "I will speak slowly because all of you appear to have become incredibly stupid," I started. "My parent and carrier of my Amazon ancestor's genetic heritage was murdered. The leader of the Amazon Security Detail identified herself, Then they were fired upon. Somehow you do not see those actions as Casus Belli. [cause for war] There are three possible reasons for your blindness: you are all cowards who bully behind closed doors, but fold up like gutless wonders when a true challenge presents itself. Or, the male penis renders you incapable of intelligent thought and induces irrational and unsustainable hostile deductions in your though processes. Or, you want me and the line of Ishara dead and are willing to accept any accident of fate that will render us so," I laid things out for them. "Or, you were in pain over your father's loss and used Havenstone as a tool to lash out at your perceived foes without concern for what price the other houses would have to pay for your personal vendetta," Hayden suggested. "Your gender bias is appalling, High Priestess  Saint James," I shook my head. "Have I been such an out of control, emotional male that yours is the logical assumption for how events unfolded?" I smirked. "Except for the meeting where I learned your secret; only Katrina caught that. I've risked death three times for Amazons; yet I hate all of you enough to kill those people and myself. Besides,  Saint James, your opinion has been rendered irrelevant." "You will call me Hayden," Hayden simmered. "I will when you and your lackeys get around to calling me Cáel," I countered. "I don't like being insulted any more than you do. I could keep up this childishness forever, but, as I was pointing out, we don't have forever. War is coming. Between my father's murder and my threats to the Condotteiri and Seven Pillars' emissaries, I've guaranteed that. Apologizing won't do any good. They won't believe you. Offering me up won't do any good. They think you hold male life to be worthless; the truth of which I am personally witnessing here and now. They are coming for you no matter what you wish. The best chance for an alliance rests with me. I can establish truly good will with the Nine Clans, Illuminati and the Earth  and  Sky. Without me, they don't trust you enough to do any good. I'm sure only Katrina believes this; I did all that alliance-building for Havenstone. I am House Ishara and the fate of the Amazons is my fate. Yet here I am, being insulted, being treated like a traitor; an infantile traitor at that, and being informed you will not honor your oaths and obligations to me," I shook my head. "Are there any other issues to discuss, or can I go home now? I'm beat." "You will be housed downstairs for your own safety," Hayden informed me. "Unless you arrest me, I'm going home," I shrugged. "Not only do I not want your protection, I have ceased to trust you. You do not treat me like a sister. Instead you accuse me of atrocities against MY people and layer on the petty insults. Goodnight." I made to leave so Saint Marie interposed herself. "That wasn't a request, Ishara," Hayden murmured with menace. "Beat me up," I chuckled, "and you will be more screwed than you know." The Golden Mare and I locked gazes. I tried to move around her so she put a hand on my chest. "Welcome to the consequences of being known liars and bigots, ladies." "I am tiring of your insolence," Saint Marie growled. "Runners'," Katrina sighed with melancholy amusement. "What about them?" Troika mocked. "The majority of the 'Runners' aren't going to see this as the Council punishing Cáel for starting the upcoming conflict," Katrina chided her cohorts. "They are going to see the Full-blooded shutting down the Only House letting them in. Going to war? They are willing to fight and die for our cause. They assume we are too," Katrina regaled her unwilling audience. "Pleased with yourself, Ish; Cáel," Hayden's eyes narrowed. "He has almost nothing to do with it, Sisters," Katrina chortled. "We were the ones who promised to let the 'Runners' join the houses then reneged on that promise. The worst you can say about Cáel was that only after we picked out, loaded and handed him the gun, did he use it for what it was intended for." "We are not punishing him for this 'Runner' insult," Troika spat. She meant my 'hasty' inductions. "Then why are we punishing him; and thank you for making Cáel's point for him; 'Runner' insult indeed. Since your disgraceful attitude is overwhelmingly common, the 'Runners' are not going to believe your excuse for dealing with Cáel." "Katrina," Hayden cautioned. "Hayden, as your 'First Bearer of the Sun Spear through the Halls of Night and Death', I am required to give you this news," Katrina bowed her head in reverence. "I tell you Cáel's actions have been a lightning rod for the 'Runners'. He gives them hope where there was none. Putting Cáel down will have repercussions you do not understand. They will then 'Know' for a certainty we look down on them and treat them little better than slaves; which is the truth," Katrina responded to the others. "Not only are we going to war, we are successfully convincing half our population that they Cannot trust the Council to spend their lives wisely." "How dare you?" Saint Marie seethed at me. "Are you seriously blaming me for keeping the oaths the rest of you made in my name; while Ishara was dead to the Council?" I laughed. "The 'Runners' are your idea, Saint Marie, not mine. You promised to bring them into the Houses ; and didn't. You lied and I chose to not perpetuate that lie, thus honoring my ancestors, my founder and my Goddess." "Do I need to remind you who Ishara is? The Goddess of Oaths; particularly military oaths," I added. "In case you missed it, I am implying that you have failed your ancestors;” and I went flying. Damn, Saint Marie was fast. I rolled as best as I could, ending bumping into Hayden's desk. No one said a word which I found tragically consistent. My follow-up pain wasn't 'Mare' induced. Spiritual flames consumed me internal organs, causing me to cry out in torment and vomit copious amounts of something. I was cradled inside a horror film as first my esophagus, then stomach and finally my intestines seemed to flush forth from my lips. The stench was beyond horrid; putrid and corrupt combined with the atrocious odor of bloated flesh left to rot in the Sun for weeks. Considering the minimal amount I had eaten on the flight home, I was even more baffled by what felt like 100 liter quantity of discharge. When the ordeal eventually ended, I half-rose then flopped backwards into darkness. I hurt. I hurt in the same way you have 'pins and needles', except mine were industrial capacity and giving it 110%. My head was resting at a slight incline and someone was flipping a lock of my bangs on and off my forehead. I opened my eyes into infinity; seriously worse agony consumed my brain pan. "That is too much for you to know, Cáel," she murmured. Those eyes had been feminine, just not in a human way and definitely filled with more joy and suffering than could be granted by a thousand lifetimes. The pain faded, so I tried the whole eye thing again. At the top of the lap that cradled my head was a really nice pair of boobs clothed in thin wool; lush, mature, yet firm like a young virgin's. "Thank you," she lilted. Mind-reading? "Do I want to know what has happened to me?" I groaned. I reached for a boob because if it was a toxin-induced delusion, what was the worst that can happen? "Careful, I haven't been with a male in 1800 years, my Preciously Odd Amazon," she laughed. "I like challenges," I bantered with my mental conjuration. Definitely mind-reading. "I am not the creation of your fevered dreams, my Cáel," she flicked my nose. "I have pushed you near death to place a curse on the Host. As a side benefit, I am able to have metaphysical contact with you." "To date you, I have to have a near-death experience? I don't know if I should admire 1800 years of male common sense, or that last guy who risked everything for one night with you," I shrugged. "So much compassion; and so little fear," she petted my scalp. "Since you clearly aren't getting into the name game and I am more than happy to doubt everything I've experienced in the past five minutes," I smiled at her, "what am I supposed to do?" "You know," she smiled back. "No, I don't," I insisted. "Something extra-concise that doesn't come from a fortune cookie." "I've always wanted to eat a fortune cookie," she looked away. "I'll start walking around with one in my pocket so next time you nearly kill me, you can indulge," I offered. "Save my people, Cáel," she placed her hand over my eyes. "Save their spirits." "A bit of help would be nice," I pressed forward blindly. "I've given you help," she whispered on my lips. Since I didn't consider that to be helpful, I opted to give a gentle twist to her nipple. Either something was really going on inside my head, acting as a conduit between me and something else, or I was experiencing a psychotic break with reality. If it was the former, I was a Class-A idiot. If it was the latter, it was me being me, rolling the dice with the pretty girl. "I wanted you to be brave," she laughed melodically, the echo of every woman I'd ever given a reason to sing out with joy, "yet now I find myself wishing you would expend a tiny bit more caution on my behalf." Sensing my dissatisfaction, she added "I cannot give you 'the' truth, so I will give you 'a' truth. Nothing is set in the future while much is foreseen." "As long as you know I've disappointed every women I've ever been with," I reminded her, my eyes still shielded and her lips tantalizingly close to mine. "Oh, you like to think you are selfish, Cáel Nyilas of Vranus and Ishara, but you justifiably take pride in the sensuality you bring to so many women's lives," she pointed out. "Many lovers are far more truthful yet far less giving," she said. "Pain heals while an education is forever," I countered. Another joyous note. "It is time for you to wake up, my Cáel," she sighed. "Go now." Wakefulness required a return to the putrid qualities of my current surroundings. I forced myself to my knees. No one did anything; no reaction, or assistance, so it fell to me to save myself. "What; what was that?" Troika nearly retched at the stench. Katrina stood, visibly pale and shaken. "Hayden?" Katrina requested of her leader. "Cáel, what have you done?" Hayden snapped. She also stood up so she could look down at me from her desk. I mumbled something. Even I wasn't sure what I was trying to say. The last touch of a lady far chillier than the one in Chicago caressed me and I knew the gist of what had happened. Why was I the one suffering at the hands of my Goddess? I was the easiest to get at because I was already devoted to her, her chosen children and I was Patron and Head of the house dedicated to her honor. The forecasted ass-kicking wasn't aimed at me, though. I was the necromantic shotgun barrel into this reality. Too many bitches had spat on me, her hand-picked patsy and punching bag, and her temper was beyond sending some vague signs and portents to the Host. I didn't know the particulars of this curse, yet I didn't doubt for a second it was both fiendishly evil and well-deserved. My jacket, shirt and tie were goners. The lower part of my tie which had been thoroughly drenched in my vomit was already decaying into filth, soon passing into nothingness. I tried speaking again. "Having exhibited no faith in me, you have committed apostasy to Ishara," issued the words from my acid-scared throat. "You are condemned to live with that choice. Good night." I fumbled and stumbled to Hayden's door, weakly opened one of the two double doors and left. The confrontation I had departed outside remained in force; Naomi and detail versus Rachel and Buffy. Helena, and a former 'Runner' named Madori who worked at Havenstone HQ with us, had not been sent up. "I am going home," I rasped. With no orders to keep me there, Naomi let me pass. Rachel and Buffy closed in. "Boss, you smell like;” Buffy searched for words. "A red tide," Rachel said. "All those dead fish floating on the water for days and days; it is that level of horrible smell." "Rachel," I stated as we got on the elevator, "thank you for the loyalty, intelligence and understanding you have given me in this trying time." "I am a member of the Host, Ishara. I would do no less for Hayden herself; but you are welcome," she sighed. "How about we postpone our date night until I've cleared up a few things with the Council and Ishara?" I suggested. Rachel nodded. I briefly talked to Helena over the phone, went with Buffy to the basement where she checked out a car then sat back as she drove me home. I must have looked like a disaster because Buffy didn't give me an ounce of grief. Home was home now. There was a house with my name on it now, but it wasn't my hearth; this mid-town, 'just above the poverty line' apartment was definitely home now. I would suspect that business travel was like a clothes dryer; you mystically pulled out less clothes than you put in. I was coming back with twice the amount of luggage I had departed with Odette would be home in an hour, so it was me and Timothy for a bit. "Hey Bro," Timothy greeted me. He set down one of those fanciful Asian vegetable mish-mashes that he liked from time to time, stood up and gave me a hug. "How bad was it?" "Let's just say I finished it up this evening by vomiting all over the Big Boss's rug, and that was the highlight of the trip," I mumbled. "That would explain your bare-chested look," Timothy snorted. I had been so out of it, I had spaced on the need to put on clothes like a normal human being. "Something to eat?" "Nah, my insides were spewed forth, so I'm foregoing food for a while," I mumbled. That reminded me. I went to the bathroom and gargled repeatedly with mouthwash. I could still smell the aromatic abomination, but at least I couldn't taste it anymore. "Do we want to go down the lists of women who have called you?" Timothy was trying to cheer me up. I wanted to be cheered up so I told him to go right ahead. Brooke and Libra; an immediate call back with the briefest of details; no weekend date for Brooke and I yet. Jason, the bar-back I had met chasing down Katy Lee, had called. I dialed his number and we had a short chat. He and his buddies were coming along well, I was invited back any time, and the Latin Kings had gotten the message because they hadn't been around since. I requested he and his friends keep their eyes open just in case and I'd be around for another pick-up game soon enough. Since most of those LK's were dead and the remainder scattered, I wasn't worried about Jason. Nikita; I called and she 'agreed' to come over. I was too fatigued to fight her off. Ulyssa called and I had to inform her that this weekend didn't look good for me; funeral and all. I initiated contact with Nicole. She was still wrapping up some of my business in Chicago and would be gone until Saturday morning. Timothy crashed for the evening, I was nibbling on some of his fodder and the doorbell rang. A check at the peephole revealed Nikita. She came in, hugged and I could sense something was definitely wrong. We were back to first date material. We hadn't been separated long enough; crap. I gave us space on the sofa. "That was incredibly fast," I groaned. "What tipped them off?" "What do you mean?" Nikita tried to scoot down the sofa to me. I held her off with one hand. "I am hardly one to uphold honesty in a relationship, but I normally consider it a selfish endeavor and not done for the benefit of a third, unrelated party," I sadly met her eyes. "Cáel, what do you?" Nikita stammered. "You are not a very good liar," I pointed out. "You are wearing a wire of some kind?" "Have you done something wrong?" Nikita evaded. "My loss," I moped. "All I wanted was the semblance of a normal life and now that's gone down the tubes." "Nikita, what do you want to drink?" I restarted the whole fiasco. Drinks were served and we kept to our separate ends of the sofa talking about mindless shit until Odette showed up. Then I could politely show Nikita the door and be with someone who did care about me. We made slow, passionate love. I gave her orgasms and giggles with the added benefit I felt more human when we finally fell asleep. (Friday) The morning started out with the same routine. I pulled up various routes for my bike ride into work, chose none of them and off I went in the pre-dawn dark blue/grey sky. I came within 20 seconds of my best time, so I was feeling pretty positive about what lay ahead. Security was a full 180 from their normally sour selves. "Good morning, Cáel Ishara," the security team (not Security Detail) leader greeted me. That was part 'thanks for letting my sister 'Runners' into a house' and 'maybe pick me next time.' "Good morning, Wilma Draper," I nodded back. I went to the counter and leaned in. I needed to fortify my supportive base and I knew how to do it. "You do realize I don't choose who joins House Ishara, don't you?" I addressed her softly yet loud enough for the two closest security women to hear. "You do not?" the woman appeared perplexed. "No," I shook my head in the negative. At that moment she wondered if this was a trick of the Council. Good girl. "The senior Amazons of House Ishara chose the next candidates. I make the ritual appeal to Ishara, of course. Selection remains in the hands of former 'Runners' who nominate the 'Runners' who have proven themselves. I was inspired to initiate Buffy and Helena because I had enough faith in them to believe they knew Havenstone and what House Ishara needed. The Amazons in the second ritual were all Buffy and Helena's choices. I think those two and the latest group Ishara has approved of, will make the perfect judges for picking future 'Runners' of accomplishment and worth; not only for House Ishara, but for the new Amazons who have risked everything for our People," I piled on the propaganda. She nodded. The two closest security guards nodded as well. Off I went to the gun range. With less than a minute worth of words, I had reinforced my perfection. I wasn't a male. I was a male with a passel of hardcore, praiseworthy Amazons working around me, insulating me from committing any errors and making all the important decisions while I behaved like a bobble-headed doll. The range was back to 'normal' except I could smell the chemicals this time out. Whatever concrete and surface coating substances they had used to repair my grenade-inspired damage left my nose with a terrible itch. I had a gun selection today. I had no instructor yet was hopeful. I packed up my 40 caliber, my back-up 3 80, the combat shotgun and my Personal Defense weapon then headed out. I patiently waited behind one of the stations, soaking up the view of medium gray yoga pants worn by a woman who presented a meticulously crafted, awesome bubble-butt to the world. After she finished off one magazine, the Amazons looked over her shoulder at me. Horn-dog time. The woman smiled as she motioned me forward. We put my weapons on the stand and prepared for school. "I am Wiesława of House Živa," she smirked playfully. By the Almighty, she had a thick Polish accent, rich lips, russet hair and 'come hither' eyes. I was prepping for some early 'nookie' time. "Hello, I am Ash Ketchum and I have an unhealthy relationship with free-roaming, anthropomorphic creatures," I replied as we clasped forearms Amazon-style. As Wiesława was trying to puzzle that out, an Amazon from an adjoining booth came over and punched me in the arm. I couldn't even recall this one's name though I knew that face and physique. "Stop that, Cáel," the woman chastised me. "She's new here." "I thought he was bringing me more weapons to use. Was this male being insolent?" Wiesława tried to put things in their proper place. "Should he be disciplined?" At least she wasn't taking me being beaten as her Goddess-given right. "No, Wiesława. This is Cáel Ishara, Head of House Ishara, he brought those weapons for His use and most likely came to your station looking for instruction," the unnamed Amazon stated. "Does this mean we are passed that whole 'grenade launcher' thing?" I inquired of the women. "We are not sure. For now we have decided to not pre-judge you since you remain consistently combative no matter what. Constanza is recovering," she tacked on. "Good," I grinned. "How soon can she return to duty? I imagine she makes a lousy patient." Pause. The 'Constanza' bit had been a test. I had a feeling that my emotional tendency to spare lives and show mercy was getting around. It wasn't the Amazon way, though it did mean Constanza would remain alive for a while longer when it was generally accepted she should not. "She will have to retrain her vision. Her doctors are hopeful," the woman responded. "That is for the best. I do hope there are no ill intentions toward Pamela," I warned her. "Such a vengeance would be personal and I would feel no obligation to treat those criminals as I would my fellow Amazons; are we clear?" "It has been made expressly clear that this issue is at an end," she bowed slightly. "Let us commit this to the 'nothingness'," was my suggestion. The two Amazons twitched. That was a phrase straight out of their cultural playbook. Both nodded, the familiar Amazon left and I turned back to Wiesława. "Do you still want a go at training me?" I asked the Pole. "Yes; yes, I would like that," she gave me a bright, toothy white smile. "I find you interesting." Off I went again. Wiesława was diligent and definitely 'hands-on'. Twenty minutes into the training one of my familiar SD firing partners showed up. "Don't let him take his clothes off," Felicité teased me. Her Congolese French contrasted erotically with Wiesława's Polish. "His clothes come off?" Wiesława seemed puzzled. "How is that accomplished?" "A deeply scientific, psychological process," Felicité teased my latest friend/fish in the barrel. "Cáel, take off your clothes," she commanded me. I gave her a haughty, condescending glare. "Please." My biking shirt came off first then my biking slippers and finally the shorts. "Your turn," I regarded Wiesława. She shot a look to Felicité. Her sports bra was millimeters from exposing her goodies when my Congolese tormentor stepped in. "You don't have to take off your clothes for him," she intervened. "But I like seeing you ladies naked," I protested. Felicité patted my package. "We like seeing you naked too. Now put on your pants before a hot shell casing creates yet another incident," Felicité teased me again. A great chasm of misunderstanding had been bridged since Friday. The grenade-launcher was part of it, yet I think Rachel and Velma were far more constructive than I could have been. Velma had seen me in crisis mode. I hadn't panicked. I had seen to my partner (though she was an inconsequential female) and been cool throughout the process in Katrina's office as Velma and her four team members had overheard. Rachel, Charlotte, Mona and Tiger Lily had probably given a different story; less professional and more human. That must have worked in my favor. A stone-cold bad-ass would have been more worrisome; a challenge. No, I had been shaken, irrational, brave and grieving. I had fought an assassin of the Nine Clans and not lost (thus not an embarrassment to a culture I didn't really belong to; until that moment). I had insulted the Condotteiri and the Seven Pillars, who were universally hated. I had been nice to the Earth  and  Sky and Illuminati, who they didn't like much, but could be handy if a war did break out. I had been 'friendly' to the Egyptians and Nine Clans, who the Amazon rank and file did approve of. The SD had no doubts; they were looking at a war. Unlike their leadership, the Security Detail was anticipating this, even anxious for the test. Fighting is what they spent their whole lives training for. Thirty years had passed since the last major clash between Havenstone and the others. For the youngest, this was the ultimate chance to prove their training had been perfect. For the oldest members of the SD, this was the culmination of a lifetime's devotion. 'Take themselves to the cliffs'? Not now. Now came the chance to make every burn, bullet hole, stab wound and piece of shrapnel worth it. Their Host lavished care and resources on the Security Detail; their Warrior Elite; and they were about to reward that glorification with a fervor only female's with 3000 years of martial tradition could match. Like me? Allowable yet not required. Respect me? Constanza was their lesson on respect. Obedience? No. Rachel had most assuredly related my contact with the 'Runners' and Buffy, so they could hit me like they could no other Head of Household; as long as it was 'appropriate'. Since they were not forced to give me full equality, they could stomach my 'almost' equality. Think of it as being able to punch your manager at work in the arm whenever you thought they were doing something stupid. Imagine how much worker morale would benefit. By stepping up and taking a punch, or two, I bought myself and House Ishara much more respect than a snippy insistence on etiquette would have ever done. Bringing 'Runners' into a First House? The SD wasn't jumping for joy. Here, the SD's sense of superiority worked in Ishara's favor. What did it matter to them that a few 'Runners' had been exalted to Full-blooded status? SD was the best of the best. That they were the best of the 'best available until now' hadn't occurred to them yet. All that circled back to Felicité playing with me, no one taking exception to me making a play for Wiesława and the return of the firing range to an educational platform for me. As I had told Oneida, 'defeat starts in the mind'. Along with that came 'Victory starts with a plan', and 'seize the moment'. I was aiming for seizing victory in the flesh. I bent over to put my pants back on. Since Felicité was departing for jobs-unknown, I ran the pants, and my hand, along Wiesława's inner right thigh. By the look in her eyes when I was finished, she didn't mind in the slightest. At the end of my allotted time period, my marksmanship had improved and Wiesława was mine for the taking. What bothered me was that it felt too easy somehow. Weird huh; that 'easy' would bother me. "You don't hang around men much?" I questioned the Pole as the weapons were being put away. "No," she sighed. "The last male in my hold died eight years ago. That is one reason I was re-assigned here," she informed me. "What department are you with?" I asked as we waited on the elevator. "Security Detail," she answered. "Fantastic," I murmured. "Elsa is a great boss. The two of us get along great." "Really? That is good news," Wiesława sounded upbeat. "How close are you?" Hint, hint. "Like the Cobra and the Mongoose," I grinned. Into the elevator we went. "I'll let you figure out which is which." "You are the Cobra," she patted my thinly covered cock. Yay! No personal boundaries. Less I forget I was still on the list of approved prey animals the door opened on the first floor and Brielle, her buddy, and Oneida stepped onboard. I had no clue where Wiesława was supposed to go. I guessed she was along for the ride. "Good morning, Cáel," Brielle greeted me before licking my left nipple. Wiesława was confused; could she have been licking me, and getting licked by me, half an hour ago? "What are you doing?" Oneida squawked. "Yum; someone has been to the gun range this morning," Brielle smiled at me. "Oh, and; sorry about your paternal person," she hastily added. "They are called Fathers," I sighed. To defuse Oneida, I slipped a hand to the small over her back then wiggled three fingers between the top of her skirt and panties. It was 'dangerous' enough to give her pause before going after the other women. "It is good to see your new, exalted status hasn't gone to your head, Cáel Ishara," Brielle looked very naughty. "Sisters first, last and always," I responded. "I'm not going to take credit for my ancestors being kick ass." "They must have been very courageous women," Wiesława stated. I snorted. "Wiesława, my Ishara lineage goes down the male side of the family, so those lethal ancestors were all male," I chided her. "When the Dacian-Thracians moved into the region, they joined with those tribes fighting the Celts. Later, they joined with the Dacian kings and fought against the Romans. Germans, Avars, Bulgars and finally the Magyars came their way; my ancestors impressed them all enough to be accepted. I know this because my Father's name was Nyilas, which means Archer in the Magyar tongue. We were fighters under the Arpad dynasty the same way we had gone to war with our Amazon War leaders thousands of years earlier. I also know this because of my bloodline; if the female folk had been raped, the bloodline would have perished," I explained. "Where exactly was your family from?" Wiesława inquired. "My grandfather said we Nyilas' were from Székelys Lands in Northern Romania," I replied. "My great-grandfather grew up under the Romanian King, hated it and died fighting as a Hungarian soldier against the Soviets in World War II," I continued. "That is why my great-grandmother took her children and came to America. They had lost their homeland in her opinion. Dad said she was bitter until the day she died," I sighed over my forerunners intransience. "She even wanted to be buried at her home town of Szászrégen," I let them know. "That never happened." The elevator door opened, I waved good-bye to friends new and old then raced to Katrina's bathroom. Katrina was at her desk, working away. "Cáel," Katrina acknowledged my passage with a wave of her hand. "Hayden and I have been examining a list of possible; " "That boat has sailed, Katrina," I cut her off. "I'll take care of my business without Hayden's help, thank you very much. I know you tried to warn her. I should have known there was no use dealing with the Council in any way, shape, or form. There isn't." I paused. "Tell your allies that there will be many in House Ishara and Warrior-Fathers too." "Aren't you worried in the least?" Katrina requested. "We both know that some of these bitches want to face their end like the lead characters in a Wagnerian opera. All we can do is remind them they are traitors to their Race, not patriots to some modern day concoction of a cult of gender blood purity," I stated, "as we work to save our people." "Those 'Old Guard' broads have forgotten what an Amazon is supposed to be," I explained. "And a man is going to show us the way?" Katrina studied me with emotionless intent. "Yes," I muttered. "A man who prefers love over hate and counts his worth by the lives he saves, not the one's he takes." "Do you ever fear this 'softness' will weaken your masculinity?" Katrina mused. That hurt; not because of her words, which could be true for any man. It hurt because the bastion against such thinking had just died. "My only fear is that I won't live up to my father's example," I responded. "Not only as a man and a father in my time, but as a human being," I delved into the wounded portion of my soul. "He never went to college, served in the military, or even got into a fight until that last minute of his life. He covered for co-workers with family issues, never failed to answer a call out to work in inclement weather, and did all that normal boring shit few here even understand. He let me be weak and let me be strong. His greatest lesson was that no matter where my life led, I had to take responsibility for it. The strong ask for help. The weak ask for someone to do the task for them. Love is not a word. Love is the star you chart your life by. The worst weakness is letting fear stop you from pursuing what you want. That is what I have to measure up to," I finished. In the interim, several of the new hires showed up and were observing the spiel. "I would think he would be happy if you measured up to what you wanted out of life," Katrina said. "I aim to do both," I grinned. I went to the bathroom and quickly changed into my work attire. The meeting started on time with the additional of a gnat-bite; Dora was two minutes late. At the time, nothing seemed out of sorts to me. It was a day on the job with Rosette. Around 3:30 pm, Pamela stopped our knife training (her with her wand and me with my weighted, wooden blade). She went to the corner of the room, ran her finger along the central point and drew back a finger with dust on it. She raised the finger so I could clearly see it. "It's dust?" I shrugged. "Normally they do a much better job," Pamela noted and back to training we went. The nightmare became real with one phrase in common usage: 'I'll get to it when I can', one Runner told Desiree when Desiree gave her a task. One of the most fascinating things in my book about Havenstone was that it hummed along like a well-oiled, organic machine. Tasks were completed, back-ups were always on call, and promptness wasn't a virtue; I was the absolutely expected. "What did you say?" Desiree asked for confirmation. "I said I'll get right on it," the woman sighed. I caught the look in Desiree's eyes. Something was wrong, but she couldn't put a name to it. Oaths and obligations; the lubricant for patently lethal Amazon society. Those words tossed out without too much consideration were now fraying around the edges. This wasn't the Plague, boils, lesions, leprosy, rickets, or the Home Loan bubble bursting. Those you could fight. How did you counter the devaluation of someone's word? Ishara's curse was crawling toward a very bad end unless I did something, but what? Personal respect would remain. Hierarchy? Amazons would begin to question why they were prioritizing their lives around someone they didn't know, or knew and didn't like. We weren't at that final destination, yet it was coming, and best of all, every woman in the company had a weapon, or quick access to one. A phone call grabbed me before I went in for the 'end of day' meeting. It was Brooke. "Christopher Cáel-umbos," I murmured. "Economy Class Oriental tours. How may I help you?" Laughter; and more than Brooke's. "Libra and I were getting ready to head out to the Hamptons and wanted to give you one last chance to come along," Brooke pleaded. An impressive dicking indeed. Thousands of reasons not to go; safety, responsibility, risk for other; "Sure, I'd love to come along. Can you pick me up at Havenstone at 6:10 pm? We'll make a quick run to my place to pick up some stuff and then head out, unless that's too late?" I offered. "See you then, Cáel," Brooke purred. "See you," Libra called out as well. It was a loathsome indicator of how out of control my life was ;  that me, a working class kid, was going on a romp with two rich, high society girls to some mansion for a weekend of hedonistic fun; because that was more 'normal' than my week had been. I entered the meeting, took my teasing and made for the gym. This hour was devoted to a hardcore workout and nothing but. Rapid repetitions, quick shifts, rolling through the muscle groups. Even a few of the dedicated lifters gave me appreciative looks. I didn't have the time today. I hit the showers and made the doors before I hit a snag. Security held me up yet again. They seemed nervous, so I asked and got a bottled water and made some jokes. These ladies were going to be my allies, damn it, before I was done. Troika caught up with me a minute later. She extended a handful of round, brownish-yellow balls in a necklace. Each ball had a symbol inscribed on it. "We received this and a message this morning," she snapped. "We have decided to reject it." "It is horse-hoof," Pamela whispered in my ear. The gears went spinning. There was one person I knew who would send me keratin scrimshaw jewelry. Those nasty bitches were piling on the stupid. I looked it over; it was old, maybe going as far back as Timur aka Tamerlane to the English-speaking world. The 'cord' was made of hair; probably horse tail hair. I had no reciprocal gift to offer; absolutely nothing this valuable. But wait, I did! Somewhere there was a Havenstone bureau, department, or office that hung on to the artifacts ALL the Houses had accumulated over the passage of years. Some of that shit was mine; Ishara's. Our house had expired before the colonies became states. That still equated to a long period of pack-ratting. I'd put a minion on it right away! I'd pray that they didn't have plans for the weekend; later. "It arrived this morning and you are only giving it to me now?" I grumbled. "That message was meant for me, not for any of the rest of you. Where is the rest of it? Oh, and you're on the list." "It was consumed in its examination," Troika blatantly lied. "You have a visual copy," Pamela sounded bored. "Give it to him." "I do not carry such things around on a handheld device," Troika parried. "Ah; that's theft," Pamela gave a slender grin. "Just so we are clear." "If Cáel Ishara wished to put forth such an accusation to Hayden, I will be prepared to defend my actions," Troika gave a hostile glare right back. "That won't be necessary," I snorted. "I'm good. Pamela, I'm out for the weekend. Have fun." I turned and walked away. "Count the days, Troika," Pamela menaced. "I'm not afraid," she countered. "I don't care, but in 21 days, Cáel's ban on internal conflict will be at an end. Like me, he will not go to a corrupted Hayden for justice. We will be exacting it in our own way and in our own time. That you should worry about," Pamela gave a tilt of the head, a feral grin and joined me in departing. In Hittite, she said;  "A matron, 21 Runners and one archaic mistake," Troika joked. In Hittite, she said; "But how many more 'Runners' can he recruit between now and then?" one of Troika's bodyguards worried. "More than enough to raise your daughters after you are all gone and forgotten," Pamela shouted over her shoulder. (Starting Friday Evening in the Wrong Damn Place) Waiting outside for me were two beauties and a small car. I hefted my bike, detached the front wheel for easier storage and climbed into the Lilliputian backseat. "Sorry," Libra in the passenger seat sounded embarrassed. "I'm not sure Brooke and I thought this through. Do you have a seat belt?" She was referring to the rear-mounted cup holder I was sitting in. "This is not rated for human occupation," I grinned back. What that really meant was there were three conflicting emotions pulling events along. Wanting me to fuck them; the easy one. Loyalty to your social/sorority sister; the relationship under stress. Me being a 'suitable' human being; the one that they were both stumbling toward which made the second emotional force such a problem. Had I solely been a fuck toy for either one, the other could have gracefully exited the field (with the occasional sharing). I was far from 'husband' material yet I was closing in on being the 'crossing a crowded club to greet me' kind of guy; already passed the 'not embarrassed to introduce me to their friends' phase. "You can sit in my lap," Brooke offered. With her driving and our height differential; we'd be lucky to be pulled by the PD before we wrecked. "How about you drive, I sit in Libra's seat and she sits in my lap?" I offered. "That's no fun," Brooke shot me a pout. "It sounds like fun for me," Libra giggled. "Now Libra remember, for the seat belt to be effective, you will have to sit facing me;” I sighed. "Facing you?" she winked. "Yes; facing me naked," I assured her. "Hey!" Brooke protested. "How come she gets to be naked in your lap?" "Otherwise me being naked would be pretty pointless," I explained. "Libra," Brooke demanded, "you get to drive." Petty arguments and playful exchanges followed. I left a message for Timothy and Odette, letting them know I was heading out to some address on the far end of Long Island. I even shot myself in the foot with the Nerf gun and told Timothy so he'd feel better. Brooke and Libra were dressed similarly. Red and khaki almost 'short-shorts', white/yellow bikini tops under white wife-beaters covered with a denim shirt (sleeves rolled up) and white cargo short-sleeved shirt, tennis socks and canvas shoes. In a way, I was a victim of my own success. Both ladies wanted to fuck me bad, but their desire to prove to me I was more than a fuck toy meant I didn't get sex at my place. If you are a girl, that will make much more sense. The car ride out was an issue. If I drove, Brooke and Libra promised to put on a Sapphic display for the ages. If Libra drove, I promised to publically molest Brooke at every stop. The reverse went for Brooke driving. The solution was that the girls would take turns driving and I would be a truly diligent cunnilinguist, with a strong background as an anatomically astute Braille harpsichord player. Our destination turned out to be the hamlet of Sagaponack, aka the most expensive place to live in the United States. Why was I doing this to myself? For starters, Brooke thought our host, Brennan Sulkanen, lived in one of those $50+ million homes; funny, I thought those were called estates. The girls laughed when I told them that. My utter lack of forethought, underutilized intelligence gathering capabilities, and even not acting my age were coming back to chew a huge hunk off my heine now. Brennan was a fraternity brother of Trent; warning indicator #1. Brennan didn't actually do anything, but his father was loaded; situation getting worse. Brennan was the youngest of the three sons from the first marriage with three other children from two other marriages waiting in the wings. A quick search revealed that the third and current Mrs. Sulkanen, was very elegant for a thirty-two year old lady. His current Mom being the same age as his oldest brother could be an issue. I was living proof how good parenting could help build up a child. Improper parenting; could do the opposite. Nothing was guaranteed though. "So, why are we going to Brennan's?" I hazarded to inquire as we cruised down Highway 27 through East Patchogue. In the back of my mind, I realized I was due south of scenic Doebridge and their frisky policewomen/Stasi law enforcers. "Oh, we met in college when I came up for one of Trent's; that loser; frat functions," she told us. "He was very drunk and tried to hit on me," the tale continued. "How and where did he 'hit' on you?" I prodded. "He stumbled into the Ladies' room, knocked my drink over and tried to give me his, but I was insulted by his inebriated pawing and left," Brooke said. Lone drunk men DO stumble into Ladies' rooms; usually to vomit. Frat brothers hit on each other's girls; men are pigs. Greeks are pigs with tie pins and secret handshakes. Drunk people do not demolish another person's drink then offer up their own. The spilling of alcohol is a drink-worthy event which you can't do if you have given your drink away. Man math: Brennan stalked Brooke, ambushed her in the bathroom and tried to roofie her with his drink because our host was a dirt bag and a total ass-bandit. How had I failed to do some basic 4 1 1 on this bastard? Oh yeah, brought an extinct First House to life, multiple threats to my well-being, treated like crap by most of my co-workers and then my father was murdered. "I repeat; why are we going to this guy's house?" I asked. "He's been persistent ever since Trent bailed and he sounds so worried about me," she answered. "Oh, I don't want you to think I'm using you as Brennan-deterrent, Cáel," she added. "I wanted to get out of the city and be with you; and Libra." I was more than Brennan-deterrent alright. I was a 'Highway Closed Indefinitely' sign for his edification. This was okay with Brooke (and me) because of all the sex we were going to have. "Thanks," Libra teased her pal. My dilemma was that despite all the positive emotions wafting my way, I wasn't one of 'them' yet. I couldn't simply say 'this dude is a scumbag. Let's go somewhere else.' This was going to take some tact and pretty much annihilated my hopes for a weekend to unwind. I had to play nice and at the first opportunity pull our host aside and politely inform him that I was going to floss his teeth with his still functioning intestines if any of us partook of something we hadn't asked for, ended up in some spot we hadn't wanted to go to, and/or doing something we didn't want to do. My diplomatic approach was from some movie that was way before CGI. It was ('you' meaning 'me': 'I want you to be nice; until it is time; to not be nice.') I was going to give Brennan's survival instincts the benefit of the doubt. I felt certain he wasn't enchanted with the idea of personal pain and I was going to let him know there wasn't a bank account deep enough to protect him from my wrath. If there was ever any doubt; I'm an idiot. We pulled up to the gate right before eight. Yes; one of those nice wrought-iron, automatic opening double gates. Brooke answered the security screen and in we went. Two people, definitely staff, met us as we parked. There was six cars present already, all variations of the high-performance, turbo-charged, 'Daddy/Mommy don't love me so they gave me this deathtrap instead' ideal. Cargo space? Fuel efficiency? Excessive safety features? Not a concern for this crowd. There was a momentary bout of confusion as the male staffer came for my baggage. I thanked him. He looked at me funny. Brooke insisted the female staffer give directions to where her/Libra's luggage was going so I did the same with the guy. My stuff was not only not heading to Brooke's room, I was being banished to another branch of this sprawling villa. "Take my stuff to their room," I directed the man. "Sir, a different room has been set aside for the gentleman," he insisted. "Oh; okay," I nodded. I took my bags from him, much to his surprise, and followed the 'maid'. Brooke and Libra laughed at my obstinacy and tagged along. Our introduction to the 'pack' was delayed and, by his look, Brennan wasn't happy with my detour. I wasn't happy either, but for a different reason. "Brooke; Libra, right? Cecil?" he clearly was disrespecting me straight out of the gates. Brooke and Libra said 'hi'. I was a little less diplomatic and I was staring down the barrels of a serious crimp in my main battle plan. There were two dissipated young ladies, three men of the same caliber and two guys I identified hangers-on. Most likely rich; just not rich enough to be treated as equals by the majority. Then there was this one girl who was certainly the unsuspecting party favor. You can learn all kinds of thing about the darker side of male-female relationships at Spring Break if you pay attention. The vacation can be wonderful, but seeing fuck-head bottom-feeders getting girls wasted for the eternal glory of Girls Gone Wild and the ability to stick their prick into someplace it doesn't belong, and they haven't earned the right to be in, truly sucks. For the moment, I had to look past her. The focus of my anxiety was a couple, both African-American and from a different mold than everyone else there. I knew the guy because he was somewhat famous. "Hey Bitch," I replied in an off-handed manner. "What?" Brennan hammed up his confusion. The 'Home Alone' gasp. What had he done wrong? "What?" I responded. "Did you just call me a 'bitch'?" he clarified. "No," I lied. "I didn't even know you were talking to me. Hi, I'm Cáel Nyilas. Who are you again?" "I think you called me a bitch," Brennan watched his whole weekend plan to dispose of me coming gift wrapped here in the opening round. He looked to the 'famous' guy. I am an idiot. "Well, with your family money, I'm sure you can hire top notch Otolaryngologist to handle that hearing problem of yours," I grinned. "Orlando, what do you think Kibble here said?" Brennan indicated the guy. "Orlando Keyes," I smiled. "Man, you are one mean son of a bitch. That fighter from Ecuador; missed his name; you broke his left cheek with one hit during that MMA bout in New Orleans last Thanksgiving. The only thing almost as impressive was that guy managed to stand up afterwards." No, I wasn't buttering this guy up. There was no point. I only knew about him because the whole 'martial ardor' doesn't have to be yours to get some tail. Girls who like watching physical combat; MMA, Kick-boxing, Boxing, and the NHL (WWE if they are somewhat gullible); will jump on your bones at the completion of that match. "I think this cunt called you his bitch," Orlando came my way. I gently pushed Brooke and Libra aside to give me space. "You are mistaken," I kept smiling at Orlando. "I was calling that lady over there," I pointed at the lady he had been talking to, "my bitch for tonight. The acoustics in this place must suck." Outdoor pool; the Atlantic Ocean crashing less than 100 meters away; this place rocked. "You are going to die," Brennan laughed at me. Keyes kept coming. "Right, or left?" I asked him in a pleasant tone. He glared yet hesitated. "What does it matter?" Orlando studied me. He had stopped being a hired thug and returned to being a modern day gladiator. "I'm packing so I wanted to know which knee you can live without," I stated. "He's got a gun?" one of the other males mumbled. "Gun?" Orlando's eyes narrowed. "Knife," I corrected. At this point, everyone but Orlando and I felt better. In that snippet, Orlando and I exchanged a vital piece of information; I was going to hurt him. No matter what he did, I was going to put a knife into him. How did he know? I had warned him and I laughed at Death. I wasn't bluffing and Orlando made his life's work piercing his opponent's deceptions. "That's my fiancé," Orlando grumbled. I extended my hand. "I apologize then," I said as he shook my hand. "That was rude of me and uncalled for. Not only is she one of the classiest ladies here, she was hanging out with you, a man not known for accepting anything short of the perfect match. Besides," I whispered, "we both know who I was truly talking about." Orlando wasn't happy with me, or forgiven me. What he did accept was that I'd given him an out. I had backed down and apologized. Brennan was frowning. Orlando and I didn't care; we were both fighters and we'd both ponied up on the promise of pain. If there was to be a conflict, he wasn't going to do it for Brennan. He was going to do it because he always wanted to know how tough the other guy really was. Names floated around. The only people that mattered to me were Anima and Casper. Anima was Brennan's 'girlfriend' which I translated as a debauchery enabler. She was under the delusion that life was boring and pointless, so she should punish the world for her ennui. Her life's cup had been emptied at twenty-three? Bitch, I worked with real women who couldn't even consider such nonsense. Casper; Casper was going to be a problem. For starters, Anima had taken Casper under her wing; was going to show Casper the 'ropes'. Casper proudly proclaimed that. Casper was also not as rich as the 'in crowd' and not a hanger-on; she was the weekend's amusement, or would have been if Brooke hadn't shown up. And, of course, she couldn't see the danger, she was so eager to be with the super-rich. After the name game came the initial party shuffle. Who was aiming for whose bedroom tonight and how would they get what they wanted. Brennan sent two backup boys cruising for Libra while he angled in for Brooke. Anima and Casper were supposed to keep me busy. Libra promptly showed she'd thumbed through my Book of Social Fugliness. "I only date real men," she shredded the 'second-stringers' to pieces. The blast socially staggered them. "If you have to think about it, boys, you are not a man. Don't strain yourself trying to be something you can't even comprehend. Now one of you go get me a drink while I think about what Cáel and I are going to do to Brooke tonight." In social parlance, that was shooting someone with both barrels of a shotgun then using the stock to tenderize the remains. That was one flank secure. Next, Casper and Anima. Anima had the feeling I didn't like her; good for her. "Would you really have cut Orlando?" Casper asked me softly while she ran a fingernail over my right forearm. "Casper, to begin with, call him Mr. Keyes. There will come a time when you can freely use his first name, but you ain't there yet," I cautioned her. "To answer your question: yes, I would have sliced down and across, cutting his right hamstring." Keyes heard me, as I had intended. "Brennan says you are a co-worker of Trent," Anima cooed. "Kind of," I shrugged. "Trent is a big-shot with the Far East Unit while I remain in Personnel in the city (Manhattan)." They both looked disappointed then Casper handed me a plum. She wasn't stupid, just willfully blind. "Where did you learn to use a knife then?" Casper tried to 'salvage' me. She was doing herself a favor by trying to make me look better to the rest; doing me a favor. Nice. "I'm with the Records Redaction Unit of Havenstone's Executive Services," I lied. Blink. "That doesn't make any sense," Casper's brow furrowed. "You delete records?" "No Casper," I returned her arm rub, "someone creates a list with names on it. I am part of the team that reduces the number of those names on that list to zero." Blink. "You fire people?" she remained uncertain. She had to believe I was playing with her, which I was. "No," I shook my head. "That implies extra paperwork. We take a more ergonomic approach. No termination rigmarole; no traceable termination at all." "That sounds vaguely like you murder people," Anima murmured. "Murder is a crime. Converting all the data of a given person into one, misplaced file is a way of circumventing the whole 'exit interview/providing references for other jobs/pension' process." If you believed that this nation, nay, the whole world, was run by soulless corporate monsters that made scary sense. "What do you do with the people?" Anime was showing the tiniest bit of enthusiasm for this conversation. "What people? People have names," I smiled. "Bodies with no records are normally handled as John and Jane Does and are buried in Potter's Field, or used at medical schools." "Do you enjoy sex with multiple partners?" Anima smiled; veering the conversation off in a different dir

Cáel's tombstone: For the love of women, women put him here.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..