The New Order: Chapter 8 - Estate Planning
by The Pediatrician
mg; mdom; tf; oral; viol
“This is fucking insane,” Meg muttered abruptly, startling me out of my reverie. I had been so focused on my roiling emotions and my driving that I had momentarily forgotten the Marine in the passenger seat – in fact, I had forgotten to even think about the girls in anything but the abstract since the pee break. She leaned forward and dug through the pack at her feet. “This silence is driving me fucking crazy.”
“What are you doing?” I asked as I glanced down at the tiny redhead.
Meg rifled through her belongings for a few seconds, and then sat back up with a crow of triumph and a snaggletooth grin on her face. “I almost forgot that I scored this thing,” she declared as she raised the music player that she had ‘retrieved’ from the box-store parking lot so many days ago aloft.
“Christ, I forgot you grabbed that too,” Rachel said. She leaned forward and craned her neck over the seat in an attempt to see better, her warm ribcage pressing against my shoulder as she half-leaned into the front. I heard her grumble slightly, and out of the corner of my eye I noted Abigail pushing her way forward as well.
“Anyone in the mood for some music?” the tiny Marine asked. She thumbed the power button and let the player sync with the Hummer’s stereo system, peering into the screen she held in her tiny hand.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” I advised. We rolled non-stop through an abandoned intersection under the watchful eye of dark, silent traffic lights and continued around a curve. “Who knows what’s on that thing?”
“Oh… Oh, no fucking way,” Meg muttered as she leaned closer.
“What?” Abigail asked. The platinum blonde squirmed further forward, her wriggling form pushing Rachel up onto my shoulder and against the side of my neck.
“Stop pushing!” Rachel griped as she pushed back in return.
“What are you three talking about?” Lillian asked. I sensed movement behind me, and suddenly her hot breath washed over the side of my neck as she crammed her way over the seats as well.
“Y’know, I’m trying to drive here,” I groused.
“Jesus mother fucking Christ, this is a fucking goldmine!” Meg said.
“What?”
“Whoever this was, they have everything!” She angled the player towards the other three and let them take a look. “The memory on this thing is massive, and I think that they downloaded every song made between 1970 and today.”
“Really.” I spared the player a dubious glance as I steered around an abandoned Honda, paused reflexively at a stop sign for a moment in firm obedience of no-longer-needed traffic laws, and then shook myself with a grunt of annoyance at my ridiculousness and continued on. “Do they have any Husker Du?” I reflectively asked.
“I… What?” Meg asked. She sat back and started scrolling through the library.
“What the hell is a Husker Du?” asked Rachel.
“Y’know,” I replied lamely as I steered the Hummer around yet another curve in the road. “Husker Du! St. Paul, mid-eighties! Bob Mould! Husker Du!” I glanced at Meg, who had a baffled look on her face, and then into the mirror where the other four held similar looks of confusion. “Oh, you all just suck,” I grumbled as I slumped in my seat.
“Actually, I hear that Dr. Tran is the one who sucks the most,” Abigail snickered with a wicked gleam in her eye.
“Abigail!” Lam gasped and blushed furiously as the other girls laughed.
“Don’t deny it, Lammy,” Rachel said with a grin. “You told us what you and Mikey did last night.”
“Ah, well…” I stammered for a moment as I glanced at the squirming doctor, and for a moment I fought the urge to add in my two cents and humiliate her even further before I decided to be merciful. “I think that we should at least pretend to respect each others’ privacy, at least a little bit. After all,” I added as a crafty look crossed my face, “I could easily humiliate someone in this vehicle by revealing their penchant for calling me ‘Daddy’ during sex.”
“No way,” Meg said with an amused gasp. “I know it’s not me, ‘cause… Well, just ‘cause.” She turned slightly and fixed her gaze on Rachel. “I’ll bet it’s Hot Pants who has the daddy issues.”
“Fuck you, I am not!” Rachel swatted at Meg, who leaned over to avoid the assault. “That sounds like something you’d say!”
“Well, it’s not me!” Lillian added forcefully. I glanced at her as she sat back, blushing furiously, and I had to wonder if maybe my little lie hit a bit close to home for her. “I’ve only slept with Mike once, and both Lam and Rachel were there.”
“That we are aware of,” Lam interjected. “After all, who is to say what you two may or may not have done while the rest of us were sleeping last night?” As the other four fell to arguing over my accusation I peered at the tiny Asian girl in the mirror, who met my gaze. Thank you, master, she mouthed silently.
I smiled slightly and merely nodded. “Okay, music!” I said forcefully, trying to wrench the out-of-control conversation back on track. “We can listen to just about anything, so who wants to hear what?”
“I don’t know… Oooh!” Rachel squeaked as she lunged over the seat and stabbed on tiny fingertip against the screen. “Justin Timberlake!”
“No!” Meg and I sang out in unison. “Pick something else,” Meg added.
“I don’t know who that is,” Lam said quietly.
“Ex-Backstreet Boy,” I said with a sneer. “Mid-nineties teen girl stroke music.”
“Well, I like him,” Rachel pouted.
“Madonna?” suggested Lillian.
“Ergh,” Abigail said as she made a face. “I never really got into her.”
“Well, we have to find something that we can all live with, and because I’m the biggest badass in the car, and because it’s my player, I get to choose!” Meg declared forcefully.
“Try to pick something vaguely decent,” I suggested. “No Marine-death metal. And let’s save the AC/DC for another time,” I quickly added as she opened her mouth.
“How did you know I was going to suggest that?”
“Really? You have to ask that?” I asked ironically. I looked over at the redhead. “Every online video I’ve ever seen featuring a military helicopter has had an AC/DC soundtrack. It’s pretty obvious.”
“Okay, fine,” Meg grumbled. She flicked her thumb, grunted, and finally nodded as she reached a decision. “Here,” she said as she punched her thumb down, “this should meet with everyone’s approval.”
I heard a few quiet murmurs of pleasure, and felt the corner of my mouth quirk up, as the opening bars of Journey floated from the Hummer’s speakers. My God, I haven’t heard this in ages! I thought as I drove into the left-hand lane to maneuver around a tractor half in the ditch on the right. Back on the correct side of the road, and I glanced at a smug-looking redhead out of the corner of my eye. “Nice choice,” I said quietly.
“You know it,” she replied with a grin. Her gaze flicked to the dashboard and her smile faltered just a little bit. I knew what she had finally noticed – that we hadn’t been able to scavenge that much fuel from the restaurant parking lot and our jumpiness forced us to flee before checking out any of the gas stations. Couple that with my driving like a maniac in our flight from Washington, and we had a situation where we were down to only one-eighth of a tank. She glanced back at me, and I shot her a tiny nod. Yeah, I know, I tried to send almost psychically. We might be boned.
I think we both knew that such knowledge would definitely put a crimp in the lightening mood in the backseat. “Just a small town girl,” sang Rachel, her voice a surprisingly high falsetto, “livin’ in a lonely world… She took the midnight train goin’ an-eee-ware…”
“I do not know the lyrics,” Lam complained with a tiny whine.
“Don’t worry about it,” Lillian quickly said. “Just fake it.” She joined Rachel in singing, her voice a wonderful alto counterpoint. “Just a city boy,” she added as she nudged Abigail, who jumped in. “Born an’ raised in South De-tro-i-t… He took the midnight train goin’ an-eee-ware…”
I didn’t join in the singing, but instead muttered the lyrics softly under my breath as my eyes flicked up the road, side to side, looking for anything that might help. We were in a rather sparsely settled part of Maryland, hundreds of miles from the nearest major population center, and though we hadn’t seen any Feral for hours (a definite plus) we also did not see any significant signs of civilization. That is, until I rounded a curve in the road and came upon an intersection and a sign pointing to the left that read ‘Jacksonstown, 1 mile.’ I glanced at Meg, who scrunched one side of her face and gave a small shrug as if to say As good as anything, and turned the wheel.
The road was new-ish, curving left and right as it dropped down a large hill, and then we crossed a narrow bridge and started back up. I drove slower and slower, eyes alert for any signs of a threat as buildings started to appear. And then I stopped in the middle of an intersection, smack dab under the dark traffic lights, as I spotted something wonderful. Off to the right was a steep hill with elegant landscaping – and beyond, looming up into the sky, were a trio of tall apartment buildings. It wasn’t the towering buildings or the elegant landscaping that had caught my eye… rather, it was the scrolling digital display on the brick-and-concrete sign next to the entrance. As I watched, the words Discriminating Elegance and Luxury Living floated into view, paused for a few seconds, and then was replaced with the time (4:41 PM), the date (July 2nd), and the temperature (86 degrees).
“What the fuck,” Meg mumbled as she practically shoved her denim-clad ass in my face in her attempt to lean out the open window and see everything all at once. “How do they still have power?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. I leaned over, practically laying on top of her as I peered through the passenger window and up at the towers. “Maybe generators?”
“Nah, they would have run out of fuel by now,” Abigail remarked from the back. I glanced behind to see all four girls plastering their faces against the window to see what we were looking at. “And without a regular staff, most power plants would have gone through automatic shut-off by now.”
“Who the hell cares?” Rachel said forcefully. “If there’s power, then there’s probably hot showers, and baths, and kitchens…”
“A bath would be nice,” Lillian said quietly. “And it would be nice to sleep in a real bed, instead of another restaurant floor.”
I sat back, pondered the sign as I debated myself, and then glanced at Meg. “We go up a few floors, we’ve pretty much got a perfect defensive position, at least in the short-term,” she said with another shrug.
“Okay,” I said decisively as I turned the wheel. “We’ll stop here for the night, at least.” As Journey continued to provide the soundtrack the mood in the Hummer’s cabin lightened even further as I powered up the driveway.
The sun cast long shadows across the parking lot far below as I lounged on the balcony-cum-porch, my feet up on the black iron railing and a cold drink in my hand as I decompressed. Through the open glass door behind me I could hear the girls puttering about and chatting as they cleaned up after dinner, rooted through the treasures in the apartment, and (quietly) argued over who was going to sleep where, and with whom. As for me, all I wanted was for the annoying stress headache to go away.
The Sutton Mill Condominiums were, for all intents and purposes, functionally abandoned – at least, as far as we could tell. What’s more, they seemed almost ideally suited to our needs… three large, ten-story apartment towers spaced in a semi-circle around a central parking lot, with a small, squat building off to one side sporting what looked like recreational facilities. After cruising around a central parking lot filled with BMWs, Audis, and expensive-looking Cadillacs, we hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention – at least, nothing lunged out with claws and fangs and large throbbing cocks and designs on little-girl veal – so we decided to chance it. After a very quick discussion we chose the middle tower, and after raiding the empty uniform of a vanished guard from an abandoned security golf cart for a ring of keys we trooped into a very posh, very elegant lobby. All six of us paused for a second, luxuriating in the cool wash of central air conditioning on our sticky and sweaty bodies before we held a quick, whispered discussion about the next step.
“Where the hell is this power coming from?” Meg asked suspiciously as she tugged on the locked glass door behind us, making sure nothing could sneak in behind us without making at least a hell of a racket.
“I don’t know,” I replied distantly. I thought back to the nasty surprise Rachel and I had experienced in her apartment, and I kept my senses sharp to anything that might even remotely resemble a Feral. “More importantly, how long is it going to last?” I kept my secret desire that it would last for a little while to myself – I could feel the stress of too much running, too poor a diet, and too little sleep in uncomfortable places starting to catch up to me in the form of a dull ache that started in the base of my skull and ran down the back of my neck.
“Who cares?” Rachel interjected. The tiny blonde stood in the center of the lobby, her arms outstretched as she luxuriated in the cool air, her face upturned towards the large crystal chandelier dangling from the ceiling of the two-story atrium.
“You should, Hot Pants,” Meg sniped back. She gave the door one last tug, grunted with satisfaction, and the padded across the marble floor to the rest of us. “Y’ever here of a place called Troy, a little story about gift horses? I get suspicious whenever a perfect present just drops out of the sky.”
“All I know is that I want a bath,” Lillian said distantly. She had her faced raised to the ceiling as well, but unlike Rachel her eyes were wide open as she too marveled at the chandelier. “I still feel sticky and dirty.”
“You didn’t seem to mind all that much this morning,” I said quietly as I moved past her towards the security desk. As the President blushed deeply I leaned over the counter and peered at the security cameras upside-down for a moment as they flicked through the silent, empty halls on the floors above. “I don’t think anyone’s home,” I finally said as I stood back up. I glanced at each girl, noting their road-weary states and rather general griminess, and grunted. “So, we might have the run of the place. We could stay here for a day or three, get our bearings, and maybe scrape up some more supplies. Let’s find an apartment and hole up for the night, and decide what’s next tomorrow. Sound good?” Lillian, Abigail, Rachel and Lam all looked at each other and shrugged, while Meg pushed a rather dainty-looking chair in front of the glass door as part of a pointless and rather ineffective barrier. “Okay then, now all we have to do is to pick a place. Which floor?”
The girls paused and looked at each other for a moment… And then, in a unified voice, all five simply said, “Top floor.”
We moved cautiously across the lobby, with me taking point, Meg taking up the rear, and the girls lugging suitcases and bags filled with some necessities in the middle. “Y’know,” I remarked absently as I glanced down the hall to my left and then right in quick succession, making sure that nothing had decided to sneak out of closed door in the few seconds since I last checked, “I just realized that’s it’s been about eight hours since anyone’s… er… taken care of their urges.”
“Speak for yourself, breeder,” Meg’s amused voice floated from behind me.
I stopped before the quartet of elevators and peered at the gaggle behind me. Meg sported a wolfish grin that didn’t quite reach her inscrutable eyes, while the other four at least had the sense to appear rather embarrassed as they looked away. “Jesus, you all managed to get off without me noticing?” I said in astonishment.
“We tried to be… circumspect, ma… Michael,” Lam admitted.
“You seemed a bit hard and focused, before,” Rachel added, perhaps a bit too quickly.
“I…” I just shook my head as the irony of the situation registered in my brain as I felt a stirring of my own down below as I realized with annoyance that I could have taken care of my particular arousal hours ago, and instead thumbed the call button. After the quiet, powerless world through which we had been moving, the loud mechanical CLUNK! and the whirring of motors made us all jump a bit, and I watched as the digital numbers counted down. Finally, on silent, well-oiled wheels the doors opened, and we piled in.
Ten stories up, the elevator disgorged us into a softly lit, clean-smelling entryway. The halls were laid out along three axes and sported six large apartments, and after getting our bearings we picked an apartment generally in the middle. The security keys allowed us access, and after a quick sweep of the large apartment by Meg and myself to make sure we didn’t have any surprise occupants, we moved on in and made ourselves at home.
And that’s how we found ourselves in Suite 2103 of the Sutton Mills Condominiums.
“Hey,” a deep Southern drawl said behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to see Meg slip through the door to join me on the porch. “Get enough to eat?”
“Yeah,” I replied. I reached into the small cooler next to me and retrieved another bottle of beer, popped the cap, and handed it over to the tiny Marine. “Just decompressing.”
“I hear that,” she replied. She tilted the bottle back, and for the first time I became of just how tiny she actually was – the normal-sized beer bottle seemed gargantuan in her tiny hand. “Thanks for this,” she added as she plopped down in the chair next to me.
“My pleasure. So, are they handling things okay?” I asked as I cocked my head behind us – a motion that I instantly regretted as the pain flared up once more. “I noticed that people started losing clothes throughout dinner. It was beginning to feel like the buffet at a strip club. Tell me again why we decided to shut off the air conditioning?”
“Something like power conservation, or something like that. People decided that they wanted lights and hot water more than cool air. Anyway, Rachel and Lam decided that they wanted a shower right this fucking second, so they’re getting cleaned up in the master bath. I think Abby’s trying to figure out what to steal in this place, and Lil’s actually drying the fucking dishes.” She snort-laughed, took another swig of beer, and leaned forward with her forearms on the railing to peer at the vista beneath us. “I told her that we could just skip that and get some new clean ones from next door, but no, she insisted on washing and drying.”
“Weird.” We fell silent, and I dropped my feet and leaned forward to peer out as well. The parking lot was still deserted, and nothing moved in the warm, still evening air. I glanced over at Tower Three and noticed a few lights shining through tightly-closed glass doors, and then swung my glance over at the Marine. “So, any idea why this place still has power?”
“Yeah, I think so. Look over there.” She pointed, and I followed her finger to the top of Tower One. “See that weird orangy thing on the roof?”
“Yeah.” I narrowed my eyes and tried not to wince in pain as a shaft of sunlight lanced into my brain through my watery eyes.
“I think that’s the corner of a solar panel. I’m thinking that the roofs of these things are plastered with them, and if so these towers will have power for a while, at least until they break down.” She took another swig of beer, got lost in a distant reverie for a few seconds, and then slapped her palm against the railing. “I can’t believe this is fucking real. This place just seems too good to be true! I mean, come on!” She turned, leaned back, and began to tick of points on her tiny, slim fingers. “This place has power, and hot water, and plenty of abandoned apartments filled with stuff that we can loot with impunity…”
“And with a little work, and the right equipment and supplies, we can probably set up some nice, thick, high walls. With these things on top of a hill, and with those half-assed decorative walls already in place, it might be pretty easy,” I elaborated.
“And it’s got a fucking pool!” she added. “With a pool house! I mean, seriously! This is just… Just…”
“Too good to be true?” I replied with a weak, sickly grin, echoing her previous words right back at her.
The tiny redhead blushed a bit and glanced at me with a crooked smile. “Okay, I get it. I know I’m repeating myself. Really, I’m sorry, it’s just…” She took a deep breath and hissed through her teeth. “I’m just trying to get my head on straight. I mean, everything over the past week has just been…”
“It’s only been a week?” I started with surprise as I did some quick mental calculations in my head and realized that I had indeed only been seven days since the world turned upside-down. “It has, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She raked her fingers through her long hair, absently flicking a few droplets of little-girl sweat only my bare arm, and sighed. “This time, last week, I was on base out in Pendleton, trying to decide on what dinner I was going to microwave and wondering if I should try to call my ex-girlfriend and suggest a one-night clambake. And the next morning I’m suddenly ten years old again, and in charge of a mission that goes tits-up, and I’m horny all the time, and everything is going to Hell and it’s all chaos and death. And then there was the attack at the White House, and…”
I waited as she paused in her tumble of words, her mouth working as if she were trying to articulate her thoughts but was unable to actually think of the words she wanted to say. “One week ago I was busy trying to decide whether to order Chinese or a pizza while watching a Law and Order rerun,” I supplied. I grunted a half-laugh of irony. “And I was wondering if I should actually make an effort to try online dating, or whether just to give up on it all. And then I’m suddenly thirteen, and then there’s Rachel, and everything goes to Hell and it’s all chaos and death…”
“Right! And just when we needed it the most, just when we need a place to call home…”
“We find this place.” I leaned back and peered out at the landscape, my mind a million miles away. “It does seem too good to be true, you’re right,” I remarked as I tried to stifle a yawn as the pain throbbed behind my eyes. Exhaustion headache, that’s it…
“Tired?”
“Yeah. I feel like I’ve been running on pure adrenaline forever. I’m surprised you aren’t crashed out too,” I said as I slumped in the deck chair. “I feel like I can barely keep my eyes open, I can only imagine how exhausted you girls are.”
“I am pretty tired,” Meg admitted. She sighed and leaned forward, peering out over the landscape as well. “But at the same time I feel wired, like I could keep going forever. Y’know what I mean?”
“I do.” My gaze slipped down, past her oily, tangled mop of crimson hair that cascaded down her back, past the gentle curve of her denim-covered ass, to her long, slim legs. I felt my cock stir as she shifted and her backside wriggled and her tee-shirt slid up, exposing another inch of little-girl back. “I feel as though I should be doing something, that I should still be running around or securing something or shooting something, something like that.”
“Exactly.” She was quiet for a second as she turned her head back and forth and scanned the countryside, and idly she scratched the top of one thigh – an action that made the tee ride up even higher. “I feel like I should be cleaning my weapons and setting up dead-falls to prevent intruders, but I really don’t feel like doing that right now. What do you think those buildings are?”
“Which ones?” With a grunt of effort I levered myself back up and peered out over her head.
“Those over there.” I followed her pointing finger towards distant buildings roughly half a mile away, down the hill and out past the entrance. “I think those are office buildings, and that looks like a gas station.”
“I think that’s a mall,” I interjected as I pointed off to her left. “We could probably find some stuff in there that we could use.”
“We’re gonna need to get organized, make some expeditions out to see what we can scrounge,” she murmured. She looked over her shoulder at me, almost as if suddenly aware of my closeness, my sheer male energy behind her, and opened her mouth. “Mike,” she began. I waited patiently, but she just did that fish-gaping thing again and turned back. “Never mind.”
“What?” I asked.
“It’s nothing.”
“No, what?”
“I… Do you think it’s true? All that stuff that Doctor Tran said in the truck?”
“What, about the ‘binding’ stuff between us? I don’t know.” Now it was my turn to sigh and run my fingers through my hair. “I mean, she’s the expert, right? She would know. But it just sounds so weird, and it can’t be real.”
“It upends centuries of social dynamics and cultural indoctrination,” Meg said with a tiny frown.
“Huh,” I grunted with another weak grin. “Dem dere sound like high-falutin’ ten-dollar words. I thought all you Marines knew how to do was to curse and spit.”
The tiny girl blushed again and smiled a small, embarrassed smile. “Okay, so I had some college, so sue me. Hell, Women’s Studies classes are a great place to pick up easy feminist lesbian pussy. But it’s still true that it completely goes against social norms.”
“Hell, I think everything in this new world goes against every type of norm.” I paused for a second, my mind racing as I thought about the subject neither of us wanted to address. “And what about the rest?”
“The rest?”
“Y’know… The whole ‘dirty-girl freak’ desires thing?”
“I think it’s crap,” she said forcefully. She leaned forward and peered down at the parking lot, probably to prevent me for even suspecting what the look on her face might have been. “I know what I want, and I know what I don’t want, and no matter what I won’t want what I don’t and nothing can make me.”
“I dunno. It does make sense, maybe a little,” I replied, my mind thinking back to my new relationship with the little slut Lam.
“Nothing can make me…” She turned to face me, and suddenly we both ground to a halt, aware of how close we were to one another. Her eyes grew wide as she peered up at me, her form tiny and feminine and oh-so-delectable, and I felt a stirring in my pants as I peered down at her. “I…” she stammered. She blushed again and squirmed – squirmed! – in discomfort as she stood before me…
…And then, without any sort of warning, she leaned in, planted her face in my chest, and inhaled deep of my musky scent, while gripping the rail behind her so tightly I was convinced that she was leaving finger-shaped dents in the metal.
“Uhm…” I honestly didn’t know what to say – on the one hand something didn’t feel right, but on the other I somehow instinctively knew that the little redhead cunt in front of me was finally starting to come around. What the fuck is THIS and why the HELL did it TAKE SO FUCKING LONG?!? “Meg? What’s…”
“Shut up.” The half-plea, half-growl issued from deep in her throat as she pressed her face into my body and inhaled once more, and then leaned back against the railing. Her elbow hit her half-full bottle and sent it over the edge, where it plummeted off the porch and smashed on the asphalt many stories below with a tiny, distant pop of shattering glass. She peered up at me, her eyes wide and confused…
And then without warning she shoved past me and darted back into the apartment. I turned and stood in the doorway as she stalked across the carpet, her gaze swinging back and forth – and quickly landing on a small figure rooting through the cabinet under the large television. “Abby!” Meg practically snarled.
“Er-uhm?” The tiny blonde looked up from her amateur looting. Like the other girls Abigail had been steadily losing clothes throughout the evening, and she was only clad in a tight pair of pink panties and a tiny yellow tee-shirt that hugged her thin body like a second skin. The casual effect was ruined somewhat by the three diamond pendants around her neck, the six large and clunky rings on her left hand, two bracelets that gleamed in the evening light and a small glittering tiara perched on her head. “What?”
“Bedroom,” Meg ordered as she grabbed one tiny hand and yanked the girl off balance. “Now!” I just stood there and watched as she dragged the stumbling girl behind her – and noticed the tiny, furtive glance she shot in my direction just before she slammed the door of the second bedroom shut behind the two of them.
“What’s going on out there?” Lillian’s melodic voice floated from the kitchen nook, and I tore my gaze from left to right to see the President standing in the archway with a quizzical look on her face as she held a damp dishtowel in one hand and a wet plate in the other. Like the other girls she had steadily been stripping down throughout our impromptu ‘settling-in’ dinner, and I had to admit that the combination of young, willowy Latina, skin-tight white bikini panties with a tiny, dainty pink bow just below her winking navel, and a short-cropped rose-colored spaghetti-strap tee made her look delectable. “Is everything alright?” she asked as she flipped her long, silky black hair back over her shoulder and peered at me.
I was suddenly aware, so aware, of the sheer sexual need coursing through my veins that Meg’s primal acts had inspired within me, and the dull throbbing in my temples matched the pulsing in my rock-hard cock as I returned Lillian’s stare. The entire living room seemed to shrink into a tunnel with me on one end, the warmth of the evening air on my back and pounding ringing in my ears, and the thin, gawky girl on the other, looking waifish and unsteady and oh GOD I wanted to fuck her so bad and my knees seemed to wobble as I sagged against the doorframe…
“What?” she asked, her voice muffled and distant and barely audible in my ears. Her eyes grew wide as she seemed to almost start with realization, and she took a half step through the archway and glanced at the doors to the bedroom. “Mike,” she asked as she peered at me for a moment, and then quickly dropped the plate and towel on the counter behind her. “Mike, can you understand me?” She took another step into the room, her face a mask of roiling emotions.
I felt my mouth moving, knew that I really should answer, knew what I had to say, what I wanted to say, but the words just wouldn’t come. I took a staggering step into the living room, stumbled, and went down face-first into the carpet.
“Mike!” Lillian rushed over and knelt next to me, rolling me onto my back and peering into my face. “Doctor Tran!” she shouted as she looked over at the doors. “Ladies!” In a flash she turned her attention back to me. “Don’t worry, Mike, it’ll be okay, can you hear me?” she asked – pleaded – as she stroked the side of my face… and then slid her hand down my chest, past my abs, and onto my denim-clad erection that threatened to tear its way out of my jeans.
The roaring in my head grew louder, and the entire world shrank until it was just me and her on the carpet. I watched, almost detached, as my hand flew up and gripped her wrist. With a growl I levered my shaky self up off the floor as I pushed her down, my hands clawing at her panty-clad hip. Distantly I heard her squeak in surprise as she landed on her ass with a thump with her slim legs splayed wide. And then I was on top of her, growling as I pinned her to the carpet and thrust myself against her.
“Mike, wait, let me help!” I heard her distant voice echo through the fog in my brain. I literally ripped the tiny girly-tee from her body as she worked the button and zipper of my jeans, tugging the clothing down over my hip with fierce determination as her fingernails scraped against my flesh. The sensation of the stinging scratches, the smell of her feminine scent, the sheer feeling of her tiny body writhing beneath mine as she ground her pussy against my sprung-free cock caused me to redouble my efforts, and Lillian was helpless to do anything but help me in my raging lust. Tiny nimble hands pulled aside her panties and with a pure, natural motion I sank into her, a full ten inches worth of Mike-shaft spearing into her with such force that she slid along the carpet on her shoulders.
And then I was thrusting, pounding myself into her straining cunt as she squirmed and moaned and sobbed beneath me. One of her hands came up to grip my shoulders while the other tried to catch something to hold onto in order to steady herself, all while she wrapped her legs around my hips and locked her ankles into the small of my back. My lust-raged brain would have none of it, though, and I crushed her upper arms in my hands as I held her in place and fucked her with wild abandon.
I can’t say what exactly I was thinking, or even what I remembered – everything was clouded in this red-tinged fog, a combined rage/lust/fury/passion that drove any semblance of sense out of my brain and let my primal instincts take over. I remember looking down at the girl beneath me and not seeing anything but a pussy, a girl to fuck, a girl to breed. There was a tiny part of my brain that realized what I sensed was not right, but this reasonable part was quickly crushed by the sheer animal need coursing through my veins. The feeling of her warm cunt stroking my cock like a slick, silken glove, her bucking hips and straining body drove me even higher, and her cries of passionate agony as she was forced to take me made my soul sing in triumph.
“Harder, Mikey!” she yelped as the tip of my prick slammed into her hyper-sensitive cervix over and over again, painfully pummeling the gateway to her womb and my ultimate target. “Harder! Fuck me harder! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” Her words became a mantra of lust as she surrendered and gave herself to me, body and soul. I couldn’t answer, I had absolutely no answer, and the world shrank even further until it was literally just us.
I leaned over, nuzzling the crook of her neck and shoulder, as she raised her hips off the floor to open herself up more fully to me. Her scent was intoxicating, the sweetest and most desirable scent that I had ever smelled, and I wanted nothing more than to breathe in of her even as I speared deep into her innards. She squirmed once more and I whipped my head to the side, the animal part of my brain thinking that I had to keep her from escaping by hitting her head with mine. Even the impact-generated burst of pain in my skull felt glorious, and with a growl I increased the tempo of my thrusts.
“Yes, Mikey, yes!” she sobbed as tears filled the corners of her eyes. “Harder, don’t stop, use me! I deserve it, fuck me, use me!” She nuzzled the side of my neck as I braced myself on my elbows, and she wrapped her arms around my body and clung to me even as I tore into her. “I deserve it, I’m a whore, I’m a cunt, I’m your cunt, I deserve it! Cum in me Mikey, make me take it!”
Part of me knew that I didn’t need her permission, but another part of me was pleased that the little slut had finally acknowledged her place before me, and with a roar of pure animal lust I plunged as deep into her trembling, helpless body as I could, and I was cumming, spurting hot, thick jets of spunk past her cervix and directly into her womb, filling her little-girl belly with what felt like a gallon of my seed as was my right as the Man and her the submissive little cunt. And a million miles away I felt her stiffen and tremble beneath me as she crashed over the edge into her own orgasm, granted to her by her lord and master me, who was kind enough to allow her pleasure because she had finally broke and learned her proper place…
I heard a roar, an animal cry of pure lust-filled victory that echoed in my ears, and I distantly realized that I was the one making the noise. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement as tiny figures rushed forward but I was too far gone, too lost in my reproductive haze, and I gripped the cunt’s arms even tighter as I pressed my spurting erection even deeper inside her straining, overworked pussy as it joined my roar of lust with a shriek of agonized pleasure that was the perfect counterpoint to mine. It felt as if I poured gallons of my spunk inside the helpless cunt, and I felt a dull poke in the side/back of my neck and the room swam and tilted and I felt tiny hands on my arms and then darkness fell.
I drifted back into consciousness on a bed sometime later to find Rachel plastered against my left side, Lillian laying under the covers beside me on the right, and Lam, Meg, and Abby peering down at me from the foot of the bed. “G’mornin,” I slurred as I raised my head. A sudden flash of pain behind my eyes and the dull ache in my shoulders told me that quick movements were probably not my friend. “Ow! Fuck, bad idea,” I added as I lay my head back down. “What the fuck happened? How did I get here?”
“Mikey!” Rachel planted a kiss on my numb-feeling lips, and hugged me so tightly that I feared she might snap ribs. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, it’s our fault that this happened to you…”
“What happened?” I turned my head and regarded Lillian, who looked a bit on the worn-out side as she turned her tired gaze to mine. “I seem to remember… Did I… Oh, fuck!” I ignored my howling muscles as I levered myself up to something approaching a sitting position and leaned over. “Oh Jesus, Lil, I am so sorry, I don’t know what happened…”
“Don’t worry about it,” she replied with a small, pained smile and a tiny wave of her hand. A large but light bruise had formed on the side of her face, and one shoulder looked somewhat scraped and scoured. She rolled onto her side, and I spotted more bruises along her biceps shaped just like my fingers. “It looks a lot worse than it actually is.”
“I don’t know what happened, I don’t know what came over me, I am so sorry I did this to you…”
“Mike, it’s not your fault,” Meg replied. Her tone gained a little bit of frost as she glared at Lam. “Doc told us what might happen, but it roared up a lot more sudden than we expected and we were caught with our panties down.”
“You shouldn’t have lez-teased him,” Abigail interjected as she crossed her arms and frowned at the Marine.
“Fuck you, I don’t think that had anything to do with it,” Meg snapped. “He was already way down that road before I got involved.”
“It’s okay, everyone.” Lillian added her two cents as she too levered herself up to sit on the mattress, one fist clutching the sheet to her flat chest. “It wasn’t that bad, he wasn’t that rough.”
“You look like you just got gang-banged in a biker bar!” Rachel retorted.
“Yeah, it was a stupid idea and we shouldn’t have done it,” Meg agreed.
I felt some of the fuzzy cotton leave my brain as I swung my gaze from girl to girl, trying to follow the conversation – and I quickly became aware that while four of them had definite opinions of my actions and how stupid ‘The Plan’ had actually been, the miserable-looking Lam remained strangely silent. “Everyone shut up for a minute, ‘k?” I asked, and the room fell into blissful silence. “Lam, is there something you want to tell me?”
“It was not a secret, Michael, I swear,” she said in a sudden rush. She sniffed once, twice, and then suddenly threw herself onto the mattress, clutching my sheet-covered hips as she buried her face in my chest and sobbed. “I did not keep it a secret but I had to know, we had to know, we do not know enough about your transformation…”
“Lam… Lam, sweetie,” I said gently as I pried her arms from around my body and lifted her face to mine. “I think I need a bit more, here.”
“It might not’ve been the best idea in the world, Mike,” Meg said as she hopped up onto the mattress and perched on the edge. “But it needed to be done. We…” She paused for a second as she glanced at the others, took a deep breath, and steeled herself. “We know what happens if we girls go to long without… er… showin’ the world our ‘O’ face,” she explained.
“We start getting stupid and can’t stop thinking about it,” Abigail added.
“Right. But the thing is, well… We just don’t know what happens with you. I mean, if we’re ‘linked’ like the Doc says…” the redhead continued.
“If we are truly linked as I believe us to be,” Lam sniffed, “then we really need to know what happens to you if you do not orgasm on a regular basis.”
“They… We didn’t know, Mikey,” Rachel explained. “And Lam said she didn’t know. And after what Lam told us this morning…”
“So we decided to try and hold out,” Abby continued. “We wanted to see what happened if you went too long without getting your rocks off.”
“And it just turned out that I was the lucky girl who got you to pay attention to her first,” Lillian finally finished, her voice containing just the barest hint of pride and a smile that told the world just how well-fucked she was.
“That was an incredibly stupid thing to do,” I grumped – but only slightly. I could see the logic behind their plan, and certainly understood the drive behind their desire to find out. “But don’t you think it might have been a good idea to let me know ahead of time? I mean, Christ,” I continued as I half-turned and reached a halting hand in the direction of the brutally-fucked Latina. “I almost killed you!”
“It wasn’t that bad, Mike,” Lillian said reassuringly as she smiled and gripped my hand, her tiny fingers clutching mine tightly. “You were a lot rougher than I expected, but I could take it, and it was actually pretty…” She realized what she was about to say and promptly shut her mouth, blushing deeply as she looked away in embarrassment.
“We could not tell you, Michael,” Lam explained. “If you knew what was coming, you might alter the results of the experiment.”
“But what about if I ended up going Feral?” I asked plainly.
Meg gave a tiny little cough and held up her pistol, the 9mm looking gargantuan in her hand. “You were so out of it that you didn’t even notice that I had this thing strapped on all evening,” she said with a small grin as she dropped the pistol onto a table beside the door.
“And Lammy had a syringe of knock-out drops ready to go, just in case.”
“A general sedative, Rachel,” Lam corrected.
“But neither of you were around when I… had my attack?” I pointed out.
I was looking at Lam when I said it and she blushed so deeply I was afraid that she might pass out from lack of blood to her brain, and when I glanced at the others they too sported looks ranging from Meg’s complete humiliation to Abigail’s amused smirk. “That’s on us, Mike,” the Marine admitted. “Remember when we said that we had gotten off in the truck? Well… We lied.”
“I was so fucking horny all through dinner that I was tempted just to jump your bones right there at the table!” Rachel said. “Lam and I ended up fucking in the shower.”
“Yeah, we didn’t plan it out too well, and Abby was just too tempting a morsel during my moment of weakness” Meg admitted. “In fact, Lil there is the only one who had enough self-control to stick to the plan.”
“Well, don’t give me too much credit,” Lillian admitted as she slid across the mattress. “I mean, I was just like all of you, losing clothes and trying to act like a cocktease to get Mike’s attention and just get royally fucked. So,” she added as she stood with both a wince of discomfort and a smug smile, “I guess that I’m the winner.”
“I am sorry,” I repeated.
“Don’t be,” she replied with a smile. She leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “It was just what the doctor ordered. And I didn’t necessarily not like it. Feel free to do what you want, whenever you want. Of course,” she added as her smile grew a bit wicked and she leaned in as she pitched her voice lower, “next time, remember that you might want to have me able to walk when you want to rough me up that much.” I stared after her in shock as she slid across the carpet – sauntered, really – to the bathroom, her bare, flat, little-girl ass swinging as she strutted.
“Dirty-girl freak on,” Meg said softly with a smirk.
I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that the President of the United States might have just granted me permission to ravage her pre-teen body roughly and rudely whenever I so desired, failed miserably, and turned back to Lam as Lillian turned on the shower tap. “Okay, I guess it was necessary,” I said grudgingly as I saw the semi-flawed logic of their plan and understood how things had ultimately spiraled out of control. “So, what have you learned about my condition?”
“Ah, yes.” Lam knelt before me, gripped my hands in hers, and looked me squarely in the eyes. “Michael, there is nothing wrong, nothing that is to be a cause for concern. I want you to understand that, before I go any further.”
“Oh… kay.” I glanced at the remaining three, whose expressions ranged from amusement to barely-disguised lust. “Is it that bad? Or is it good?”
“Depends on how you define ‘good,’” Meg snickered.
“It’s good,” both Rachel and Abigail remarked at the same time, and I felt Rachel’s grip around my shoulders tighten as she glowered at the glaring Abigail.
“It is… fascinating,” Lam said haltingly. She thought for a second, and continued. “In many ways that this transformation has affected those biologically designated female, leading to increased sexual arousal as well as – I guess we could call it ‘co-dependency,’ with those biologically designated male – there has been an effect on you as well. For some reason that I do not as yet understand, your sexual arousal operates in a manner similar to ours, albeit with some major differences.”
“What kind of differences?” I asked suspiciously.
“Well, for one thing, while the arousal factor among females seems to be simply that… an overwhelming desire for sexual release that may cloud the judgment in a minor way… but in you this arousal can have a detrimental medical effect on your higher cognitive functions.”
“She’s saying that you go a little nutso if you don’t get yer rocks off every so often,” Meg interjected.
Lam winced slightly. “Essentially correct. Michael, I believe that you – and quite possibly the Feral as well, I will have to determine some way to test out my hypothesis – experience increasing levels of hypersexuality. Really, it is quite fascinating,” she added as she almost squirmed with excitement and fell into ‘Professor mode.’ “I have only read on this condition, and in the literature there is a clear connection between damage to the frontal lobes of the brain and sharp spikes of hypersexuality. While there is some evidence that increased activity along the dopaminergic mesolimbic pathway of the brain, usually as a result of an influx of dopamine agonists into the body, there does not seem to be any corresponding cause for the hypersexuality spike in your body!”
“Er… What?” I asked as my mind whirled.
“That means you’re just another horndog guy,” Abigail smirked. “But you’re a horndog who gets hornier the longer he goes without getting’ some, and if you don’t fire your gun you could fall down.”
“But what about his attack?” Rachel asked. “Why did he basically lose his mind?”
“Because,” Lam replied, “whatever agent is responsible for his increasing hypersexuality reached levels that overwhelmed the chemistry in the rest of his brain, thus forcing a… I guess you could call it a short-circuit.”
“So how do we keep it from happening?” I asked. I winced as I shifted and my neck twinged. “I don’t much feel like going through that again.”
Lam glanced at the other girls, who shared her look of amusement. “You must experience regular orgasms. Every six to eight hours or so, I believe. Four hour intervals would probably be best for the foreseeable future, at least until I have a better grasp of your limits.”
“And it needs to be with one of us,” Rachel added. “Preferably me.”
“Oh, bullshit!” Abigail interjected as she clambered up on the bed beside Lam and glared at her rival, who glared back. “He gets to fuck whoever he wants!”
“I never said that!” Lam retorted with an outraged look as she swung her gaze between the two blondes. “While traditional intercourse may be a good way for Michael to relieve the buildup, it is not the only way…”
As the three girls fell to bickering over who said what (and whether or not it was a requirement that I fucked one of them to prevent another attack), I glanced at the smirking Meg. “Yah just gotta get off, that’s what I’m hearing,” she simply said. “Whether it with them or by spanking the monkey, it’s doctor’s orders that you bust a nut.”
“Okay,” I simply said with a nod. This has got to be the weirdest diagnosis and prescription ever… “Okay, quiet. Quiet!” At my shout the other three stopped bickering and turned their attention back to me. “Lam, you said there was more?”
“Ah, yes. Now, it is really just a minor observation, but your body seems to be producing spermatozoa at a phenomenal rate, and in an increasing amount. Normally, the human male produces between two hundred and three hundred million spermatozoa every three months or so, but in you that production time seems to have been halved. And the volume has increased exponentially as well.”
“Congrats, Mike,” Meg said with a laugh as she leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms, “yer a one-man bukkake bangin’ machine, soakin’ the helpless little honeys with your man stew.”
“You can leave if you can’t take this seriously,” I grumped.
“Ah, I gotta leave anyway,” she replied as she pushed off the wall. She palmed the pistol and turned, adding over her shoulder, “I need to make sure nothing’s sneaking up on us.”
“Right. Go.” I took a deep breath, glanced at Rachel, Abby, and Lam, and then gathered up my courage to ask the question I had been dreading. “Okay. What about… I mean, I don’t even remember… I don’t want to hurt…”
“Mikey, it’s okay,” Rachel said reassuringly as she got my implication. “Lil is fine, just a little banged up. We’re a lot tougher than you think, we can take a little hard sex.”
“It actually looked like fun,” Abby added.
“Rachel is correct, Michael,” Lam said. “I know that you are afraid that you might seriously injure us during one of your ‘attacks,’ but I can reassure you that I do not believe it will happen. I mean, take the President,” she added as she pointed in the vague direction of the bathroom door. “You were with her during the entirety of your attack, several minutes at least, and with the exception of a few minor contusions and some abrasions she is medically fine on the whole.” She took my hands in hers and looked into my eyes, her demeanor exuding serious calm and authority which seemed incongruous when coupled with her little-girl looks. “Do not worry,” she stated emphatically. “It is my opinion that you do not pose a true threat to us, even in the midst of your attack. While you may have had the power to physically harm President Ramos, your subconscious mind realized her value more as an object for reproduction, and therefore acted instinctively to restrain yourself to a degree.”
“But I fucked her so hard she can barely walk!”
“I said ‘to a degree,’” Lam replied with a small smile. She glanced at the clock on the table beside the bed and turned to the other two girls. “I think that I need to examine Michael one last time, and we should really allow him to get some rest. Tomorrow morning he should be on the road to a full recovery, but I just want to make sure.”
“If you say so, Doc.” Abigail's brow furrowed in annoyance for a split-second before taking a neutral mien, and she hopped off the bed. “I’ll go see if the President needs any help washing her back.”
“I don’t want to leave you, Mikey!” Rachel whined as she gave me another hug.
“It’s okay Rach, I’ll be fine,” I replied as I worked her death-grip octopus arms from around my body. “I am kinda worn out, so let’s just let Lam check me out and I’ll catch some z’s.”
“All right,” she said dubiously. She gave me a little kiss, let go, slipped off the mattress, and padded towards the door. “I’ll go keep Meg company. Just… Please get better soon, ‘k?” The tiny blonde blushed and looked at the floor before she too slipped out of the bedroom.
“Okay, Doc,” I said as I settled weakly back onto the sheets, working my arms a bit to try to restore a bit of circulation. “What do you need me to do?”
“You do not need to do anything, Master,” Lam replied as she shut both the bedroom door and the bathroom door. As she turned back to me I noticed the wicked gleam in her eye. “This is really just a simple examination,” she continued as she grasped the hem of her tee-shirt and stripped it over her head in a single, fluid motion. Padding across the carpet in just her panties, she added, “I just want to check your rate of spermatozoa regeneration – specifically, in terms of volume. After all,” she concluded as she clambered up on the bed and crawled up my body, “the more data that I can gather about your condition, the better I will be able to render diagnoses in the future.”
“Spermatozoa regeneration?” I asked with a smirk. “And just how are you planning to measure this volume?”
“Why, with my mouth, of course, Master.” Without another word she grasped my stiffening prick and lapped at the underside of my head.
I merely lay there and enjoyed the attention as Lam expertly serviced me with her mouth. For a girl who looked as young and innocent as she, she certainly had come to display a rather wicked streak – which she was more than happy to use in my service. Within just a couple of minutes she had me standing back at full attention, and only a minute after that I deposited my large, warm load deep into her mouth as she stroked her clit through her panties and shuddered through her own orgasm.
To her credit, she didn’t spill a drop. And she happily swallowed afterwards – for some purely medical reason, I’m sure.
Over the next few days we fell into something of a vague, gentle routine. The girls sorted themselves out into our new home, laying claim to specific bedrooms within the posh, formerly expensive and exclusive condominium/apartment. Somehow I ended up lord of the master suite – it wasn’t anything upon which I specifically insisted having, but the girls generally agreed and, as there were no specific objections, I merely shrugged and moved on in. The second-nicest and largest bedroom Meg claimed as “Lesbian Country,” a decision with which I was perfectly happy to accede (especially after the weirdness on the porch between her and me on our first evening there). The third bedroom ended up being the “overflow” room – at least, that was the plan. In theory (and as explained by Lillian and Lam in excruciating detail on the second evening, while Meg and I exchanged eye-rolls behind their backs and Rachel snuggled up against me on the couch while Abby tried to find something to safely store her looted jewelry), this spare bedroom would be for those girls who wanted to sleep alone and weren’t interested in a taste of girl-on-girl or domineering boy games, but in truth none of the other four opted to take advantage of the thing as they spent the dark hours with the Marine or I.
And just as they organized the bedrooms, the girls also trended towards particular areas of expertise. Naturally, Lam laid claim to our medical needs, making sure that our nutrition was decent and our minor wounds were attended to, all the while continuing to do what little research she could on her tablet. Meg naturally seized onto our security concerns, and within twenty-four hours she had managed to investigate the neighboring apartments on the floor for threats, secure the fire doors to the floor, shut down all but one of the elevators, and find the access stairs to the roof – all by herself. (Our initial conclusions were correct in that we were indeed alone on the top floor of Tower Two… at least, Meg didn’t find any horny pre-teen girls or raging cannibal/rapists lurking in the apartments next door.) Lillian appointed herself quartermaster, and happily spent several hours humming to herself as she took inventories and made lists, while Abigail… Well, I wasn’t sure what Abigail was up to. She seemed to be following her own agenda, vanishing into the bowels of the building for hours on end, only to magically reappear when we weren’t looking. The girl was definitely up to something, but as we all had far more important things with which to worry we didn’t mind too much.
That just left Rachel. My little blonde companion appointed herself head chef and general house mother, two duties that tested her skills to the limit. The first ‘meal’ that she prepared by herself was what we thought was frozen fish that was mushy and frozen vegetables that were somewhat charred and crunchy, although the general consensus among our band was that we couldn’t be too sure and it might be a mistake to make such assumptions. Nobody had the heart to complain, especially after she presented the culinary horror to us with a look of breathless anticipation, almost as if her entire being rested upon our approval – and thus we managed to cram it down, faking noises of pleasure all the while.
“Mike, I don’t think I can eat this,” whispered Lillian when Rachel bustled back into the kitchen to bring out more bowls of questionable something.
“Just do it, it won’t kill us,” I stage-whispered back.
“Probably,” Meg muttered. And then Rachel came back in, beaming with happiness as she served us an indeterminate something that looked worse than it smelled. We ate it anyway.
Our sexual dalliances fell into a pattern as well. Every night, after I had crawled into bed and fallen fast asleep, I would be awakened by a tiny little naked form snuggling up against me as their individual desire for my physical attention would force them to act. The first night was Lam, who insisted that I lay back and enjoy her effort as she impaled herself on my cock and ground herself against me, hunching her body and trembling as her little-girl orgasm ripped through her body; the second night was Rachel, who insisted that I pin her face-down on the mattress while pumping my seed into her helpless pussy from behind. It turned out that Lillian did indeed like her sex a little bit on the rough side, and on the third morning I had to get creative in terms of keeping her secret desires secret while giving her the abuses she craved. (I quickly determined that her nipples were extra-sensitive, and had to clasp my hand over her mouth to keep her cries of agonized pleasure muffled as I pinched and twisted. She practically convulsed in an epileptic seizure as I speared into her, lost in the throes of her abuses as I almost lifted her body off the mattress with my vise-like thumb and forefinger. Her orgasm was explosive, more so than my own.)
At the same time Meg was working out her own pattern of Sapphic love matches whenever the mood struck her as well. She tried to be discrete about it, but just as I knew she was fully aware when I was playing dirty little breeder games with one of the girls, I was fully aware whenever she lured one or two girls into her lair for an impromptu lesbian session. For whatever reason, Abby almost always seemed to end up with the Marine – I wasn’t sure if it were some sort of arrangement, whether I terrified the girl, or if the unspoken threats from Rachel were having an effect, but with the exception of a few lusty looks and some general cockteasing she seemed content to explore her girly-love side. I honestly didn’t mind all that much – I had more than enough young, horny, pre-teen company in the form of the other three to keep me occupied.
Three days after my attack, I was enjoying a brief respite from my boyfriendly duties out on the porch when Meg joined me once more. “Hey, we missed it,” she said as she slipped onto the patio and took a seat.
“Missed what?” I asked.
“The fourth of July. Independence Day was yesterday.”
I thought about it for a second, and realized that she was correct. “Christ, you’re right,” I replied. “I didn’t even think about it.”
“Well,” she noted with a snicker, “you have had a lot on your mind lately. Or is that a lot of underage pussy on your dick?”
“Ha fucking ha,” I shot back easily. “You know as well as I do that it’s a medical condition, and I’m under doctor’s orders to pursue specific therapy.”
“And just how much therapy have you undertaken this morning?” she asked as her grin grew a bit wolfish.
“Rachel when we first woke up,” I replied smugly. “Lil in the shower. And Lam gave me a checkup about ten. Hey,” I added as I leaned back and smirked, “I’m just doing what I have to do in order to keep everyone healthy and happy. It’s not like I’m getting any pleasure out of it.”
“Oh, right,” she snorted. “You are so making a sacrifice here.” She fell silent for a second, and then pitched her voice lower. “Be discrete, but look over at the tower on the left, about eight stories up, third window from the right,” she instructed, her voice all business.
I felt my pulse quicken as I slowly sat up, stretched, and twisted my torso in an effort to loosen my back. As my eyes raked over Tower Three I think I spotted what had captured her attention. “That patio curtain, is it moving?” I asked quietly.
“I think so. I noticed it just now, like it was being moved a bit from the inside.”
“It might just be air conditioning,” I replied.
“Doubt it. If that curtain is as heavy as the one in here, it’d take a big fucking wind to make it move.” She was quiet for a second as she scanned Tower One for any similar instances of movement, and then settled back in her chair. “I think we might have some company over there.”
“Feral?” I asked in an almost whisper as a cold dread settled in the pit of my stomach.
“I don’t know.” Meg thought for a moment, and then fixed her gaze on me. “In any case, we need to check it out. If we are even seriously thinking about turning this place into some sort of half-assed home base for the near future…”
“Are we?” I interrupted. I leaned forward and fixed her with a pointed look. “I mean, it’s been great here and all, and certainly a damn sight better than tooling around in the Hummer with no particular place in mind, but are we at the point of settling in?”
“We might have to,” Meg admitted. “Look, we can raid those cars down there for fuel, and maybe take a few field trips out to find more. If we really wanted, we could probably hit the road with no problem. But let’s face it,” she concluded as she indicated the condo complex with a wave of a tiny hand, “I haven’t seen a single fucking Feral since we got here. And there are almost three hundred apartments full of abandoned loot. And it’s got power, at least for now…”
“We’re gonna have to find out how to maintain those things, and real fucking quick,” I added. “We can use the elevators for now, but if the power goes we’ll be stuck humping our way up and down ten flights of stairs.”
“Right. And there’s a pretty healthy river-thing down the hill out back. Remember what we were discussing that one morning?”
I remembered… and just as quickly I remembered a very naked Meg snuggling up against my own naked form, and the general weirdness that resulted. “Yeah, I remember,” I admitted as I tried to put the image of the naked Marine out of my mind. “Are we really considering this?” I asked.
Meg shrugged. “I can’t see any reason not to,” she admitted. “And let’s face it, neither of us has any better idea. But if we are serious,” she added as she leaned forward, “I think the first step of the op is to check out our squatter.”
“Okay.” I stalled for a second, trying to find some reason, any reason, to avoid the coming confrontation, and realizing that everything she said was right. “Let’s go. But we need to tell the girls, I don’t want them to get scared.”
“Hey, yer the boss,” she said with a grin. “After all, you’re tyin’ up the President and bangin’ her brains out. I guess that makes you First Boyfriend, or some shit like that.”
“Har de fucking har,” I replied dryly. “Are you gonna take more shots at my sex life, or are we gonna get this done?”
“All I can say,” I said in a voice just above a whisper, “is that I am so glad for this transformation!”
Meg poked her head around the open fire door and looked to the left. “Why’s that?” she asked as she quickly turned her head to the right.
“Because,” I replied as I glanced up the stairwell shaft, my eyes and ears straining to detect even the slightest hint of pounding feet. “Before this change I would’ve been wheezing like a buffalo after having climbed eight flights of stairs!”
When Meg and I informed them of our field trip to Tower Three, naturally the other four girls wanted to come along – but when we hinted at the possibility of encountering Feral, they quickly backed down. “Mikey, I want you to be careful!” Rachel insisted as she carried my shotgun and a box of extra shells out of the bedroom. “I don’t want anything to happen to you!”
“What about me, Hot Pants?” Meg asked with a crooked grin and a wicked glint in her eye as she fished a couple of extra clips for the 9mm out of her bag of ammunition. “You seemed pretty damn concerned about my well being last night!”
The tiny blonde brattily stuck her tongue out at the Marine. “That’s ‘cause you had your fingers buried in my snatch, and you begged me to do the same to you so you could get off while I pulled your hair!”
“Begged?” I asked sotto-voiced as I raised one eyebrow.
“Leave it,” Meg smirked.
“Okay,” Lillian said as she placed the strap of an empty suitcase over my shoulder and shoved a sheet of paper into my hand. “There’s a list of things we need. If you get a chance, see if you can find the stuff on that list.”
I glanced at the Latina in astonishment, down at the crumpled paper in my hand, over to Meg, and back to Lillian. “Y’know, this isn’t a shopping trip,” I noted.
“I know that,” she replied in an exasperated tone. “Just… I’ve been keeping track of what we’ve been consuming, and I just thought…”
Midway through her speech I interrupted her with a quick kiss, and then repeated the process with Lam, Rachel, and Abby. “Don’t worry, got it,” I said as I crammed the list into my pocket. “If we get a chance, we’ll see what we can find.”
“We good to go?” Meg asked as she snapped the fresh clip home into the hilt of her pistol and racked the slide with a loud, lethal-sounding CLACK! “Time’s a-wastin’, and the sooner we get this done the sooner we can get back.”
“Good to go,” I replied. I slid the last of the shells into the shotgun, racked it with an equally lethal-sounding K-CRACK!, and peered at the Marine. “Let’s do it.”
We left the apartment (making sure the girls locked the door behind us with a resounding CLICK!) and took the stairs down. The lobby of our refuge was just as we had left it, and I easily pushed the chair out of the way while Meg kept a look out. Our senses were attuned to the environment as we slipped across the parking lot to Tower Three, but nothing lunged out from between the parked cars and we made it there without incident. Meg used the security keys to let us in while I kept watch, and in a few minutes we were humping our way up the stairwell towards our encounter.
“You were a fat fuck, eh?” the tiny redhead remarked absentmindedly as she slipped into the hallway. I joined her, and we were silent for what felt like an eternity as we strained to hear any noise. Nothing but silence and the quiet buzz of the lights in the hall…
“The fattest,” I replied in just as absent a tone. “Which apartment?”
“I think it’s 3081,” she said. “Man, this place has some weird numbering,” she added as she slid down the hall towards our target.
“Makes sense to me. This is Tower Three, eighth floor, and we’re heading towards the first apartment up here. Three-oh-eight-one.”
“Right.” Meg grunted distractedly, and I too let the conversation die as we approached the door. I know it was probably just my imagination, but I could swear that there was a threatening shadow lurking around the large, heavy wooden frame, a glowering evil that seemed to exude menace. “Okay,” she said in a quiet, decisive voice as we came abreast of the portal, “this is how we do it. I’ll unlock it and you stand ready. I’ll shove the door open, then we go in hard and low. You spot anything in there that looks like it might want to eat our faces, you blow it to hell. You ready?”
“No.” I raised the shotgun, planted the butt firmly against my shoulder, and took aim at the peephole. “Do it.”
“’K, on three,” she replied. She pulled out the passkey and slotted into the keyhole. “One.” A quick turn of her wrist, a dull click of a lock disengaging, and she slid over to plaster herself against the wall beside the door. “Two.” She placed her hand on the doorknob, turned it, and took a breath. “And three!” With a shout she kicked the bottom of the door with her heel, and the wooden panel shot open.
I thought I was ready, I could feel my legs trembling with anticipation as I prepared to lunge… But the second the door flew open my flight was interrupted when something charged out the door and leapt straight at me!
>>Chapter 9>>