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From: Dark Paladin <darkpaladin502@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Feel - Revised Chapter V (mf, mF, mc, preg)
Date: Tue, 19 Aug 2003 08:10:06 -0400
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The Feel

By:  Dark Paladin

Chapter V

Orchid was not having a good day.

Then again, Orchid seemed to live in a perpetual array
of bad days. Part of it was her job - which was
working for a subsection of a secret branch of the
United States Military which was called the "Financial
Research Facility". Which was a joke - it was made out
to be the most boring section of the US military
system, hiring a team of accountants and bean counters
to run around and make sure that every $500
unbreakable toilet seat that were used in long range
airplanes (made unbreakable with the theory that if
the bathroom was ever hit by a missile, the toilet
better damn well not shatter and leave shards of
plastic in some patriotic pilot's ass) were fully
accounted for.

The truth was that only a small part of the budget was
appropriated to this task - a fact that the bean
counters well knew, but also knew that if they ever
squealed, they'd find themselves out of a job,
discredited by a group of other even more boring bean
counters, and probably dead of some strange "accident"
24 hours later (with their family members piled up
next to them). It's not that the US Military is
inherently evil - they just get very testy about
people releasing details on super-secret stuff.

Which is what Orchid's job really dealt with. Not that
her real name was Orchid - it was some stupid code
name invented by some stupid ass guy who thought a
flowery name for one of their top assassins sounded
all cool and shit. She didn't know who thought up the
name - probably a good thing, as whoever had thought
it up might find themselves dead - it would take a
little bit of time, most of it painful, but dead they
would be at the end.

This was the real center of Orchid's perpetual bad
mood. She hated her job. She hated the stupid rules
she had to follow, like "Don't kill people just
because they cut you off on the freeway", or "No, you
can't assassinate Saddam Hussein and make a better
place", or "No, you can't assassinate Carrot Top and
make the world a better place". What good was being
quite possibly the world's best assassin if you
couldn't use it to make the world a better place?

Instead, Orchid was stuck with low life scum - major
drug dealers, weapons dealers who were trying to sell
high radiation plutonium to places with more Arabic
names than a 7-11 employee roster, the occasional
would-be presidential blackmailer (these were her
favorite - usually some girl who took it up the ass 40
years ago by some guy she never suspected would become
president, then wanted to rat the guy out once he was
in power).

So when she walked into the Statistical Research
Facility building (known as "The Stain" by the
employees since they never replaced the carpets - a
bean-counter money counting trick), she expected
another boring ass job in some boring ass Motel 6
somewhere in some pit of the nation. Just once she'd
like a job that took her to Hawaii. Someplace where
she could make her white skin at least off-white.

She turned the corner - and saw at least one thing
that made this job worth it at times. Other than not
being dead herself, of course. (One of the job
"features" that she learned about later on. No wonder
the job had such a low turnover rate.)

It was Samantha. Samantha was still fairly new, and so
was still pretty fun to play with. She looked up when
Orchid had finished the last checkpoint (a total of 6
to make it this far - an iris scan, palm scan,
fingerprint scan, DNA scan, voice scan, and having to
repeat the words "Fuck you, assholes" which was the
password she made up for herself 30 days ago when she
had to change passwords again. For the 5th time in 6
months. Damned IT staff geeks).

"Good afternoon, Agent Orchid," Samantha said, her
smile frozen on her face. She was a pretty thing -
taller than Orchid, willowy thin with a nice sized
rack, almond shaped eyes, and long, midnight black
hair, and a tiny little ass that made Orchid wish she
had a cock to rape it with. She didn't work out, and
had a softness of body that Orchid loved. "The
Chairman will be with you shortly - I'll ring him."

"Thank you, Sam," Orchid said. Her smile was genuine.
She liked seeing Samantha. "Feel free to take your
time."

Samantha's smile didn't really change, but she tried
to be pleasant. Orchid felt like she had some idea
what was going on inside her head. The fear, the
wondering if this time it was going to happen again -
Orchid could almost smell it on the girl's mocha skin.

"Chairman," Samantha said into her intercom. "Agent
Orchid is here."

"Wait 30 minutes," came back the voice on the other
end. "I'll call when I'm ready."

"Yes, sir," Samantha said. She glanced at Orchid, who
was sitting in one of the comfortable leather chairs.
These weren't just simple office chairs - these were
full blown, sink-on-down-and-sleep chairs that
reclined to nearly a full horizontal position. He had
ordered these chairs especially for Orchid -
especially after the time she had come into his office
sporting a gut shot to deliver her report. Orchid was
a stickler for fulfilling her missions, and The
Chairman rewarded her for this dedication.

"I guess we have a wait," Orchid said. A smile played
over her lips as she watched the pretty girl twitch a
little. "Well, don't mind me. Why don't you just get
back to work. I'll just relax here." She leaned back
in the chair, fixing her eyes on Samantha.

Samantha's smile slipped just a little. Then she
turned to her computer and started typing away, trying
as hard as she could to ignore Orchid's stare. Orchid
didn't seem to blink. Didn't seem to move. She just
kept her eyes on Samantha, her gaze never wavering.

After a minute, Samantha's fingers staccato keyboard
clicking slowed, became sporadic as she looked at
Orchid. Orchid didn't move, just kept staring at
Samantha. Samantha looked back at her work,
straightening in her chair a little. A minute later
she looked at Orchid again, shifting in her seat. Her
typing resumed, slowed, resumed, slowed again.
Samantha's fingers started adjusting her blouse,
lifting it away from her chest to let some air in. A
small bead of perspiration clustered on her forehead
as she shifted again.

Orchid suddenly rose from her seat so quickly Samantha
gave a start. Orchid sat on the edge of her desk,
letting her skirt rise up her legs a little. She
leaned forward, hovering over the girl.

"So how have you been, Sam?" Orchid said. She leaned a
little further over the girl, enjoying her
nervousness. "It's been weeks since we've seen each
other." Her skirt rose another inch higher. She wasn't
wearing anything underneath, and a long expanse of
white thigh was revealed.

Samantha's eyes flickered to Orchid's thigh, then back
into the liquid, hypnotic eyes. "Um, fine, Agent
Orchid- " she stammered.

Orchid put a long finger on the girl's lips, feeling
the slick lipstick on them. "Now, Sam, didn't I tell
you just to call me Orchid?" The finger traced the
delicate jaw, barely touching the skin of her throat.
"After all, we've already shared so much together."
The wandering hand moved down the throat, stroking the
skin.

Samantha started to pull back, but Orchid captured a
bit of skin, holding her in place. She brought up her
other hand, stroking her arm. She could feel goose
bumps on the silky skin, and it made her smile.

Samantha was trembling. "Orchid - I - I'm sorry, I
know we have - "

"Have what?" Orchid asked. She brought both hands
down, gripping the girl's nipples, squeezing tightly -
not enough to cause pain, but enough to let her know
she <i>could</i> cause pain if she wished it. "Made
love right here in this office before?" She leaned in
a little closer, her face inches from Samantha's. Her
fingers traced the tiny breasts. She usually preferred
larger breasts - more like her own, to be honest, but
she enjoyed Samantha's reluctance far more.

"Orchid, please - I've told you before, I - I'm not a
les-lesbian." Samantha's breath was sweet - someday
Orchid might ask her what toothpaste she used. She
might buy a tube just as a momento. It was coming out
a little faster as Orchid milked the tiny nipples
through the blouse. Samantha's legs were shifting,
nylon whispering as they moved.

"Oh, really?" Orchid said, leaning forward. Her lips
brushed against Samantha's jaw as her hands worked the
breasts. She loved the feel of them, the nubs nice and
hard now. She could smell the faint odor of arousal,
and knew it wasn't her own. "I thought you'd be over
that hang up by now." Her tongue traced a path to
Samantha's ear. She loved the taste of the girl's
skin, felt Sam's hot breath against her ear. Orchid
swung her legs over the desk, placing Samantha between
them as she continued to molest her.

"I - I don't like girls that way," Samantha protested.
Orchid pulled back, grinning wickedly at her target.

"Really?" She said. She saw Samantha's confused eyes,
the fear behind them, unable to understand what was
happening to her. "Hm - so you won't like this?"

She leaned forward, pressing her lips against
Samantha's. The soft petals parted for her. Samantha's
loan moan vibrated against Orchid's tongue as the
organs touched, saliva mingling. Samantha's pelvis
rocked over so slightly as she kissed Orchid back.

Orchid planted kissing along Samantha's throat. "No -
I don't like girls, please-" Orchid could taste the
salt of tears on her skin. She wondered if Sam had
some major religious hang up or something - this was
the fourth time, and while this was the fastest Orchid
had moved, it was still the same reaction. Major
guilty head case here.

She unbuttoned Samantha's blouse, reaching inside to
feel her bra. She suddenly grabbed Samantha's nipples.
this time hurting her. "What's this?" Orchid hissed.
She pulled on the nipples, making Samantha cry out in
pain. "What's this I feel?" She slowly twisted the
nipples a quarter turn. Samantha's pelvis rocked hard,
once - then halted, confused signals from her psyche
twisting the poor girl's head.

"What did I tell you about wearing bras when I come
in?" Orchid asked. Her voice was cold as steel. She
twisted the nipples a little further. "Well?"

"Not to wear them," Samantha said quickly.

Orchid shook her head. "Sam, I am so disappointed as
you." She did not release the nipples, looking
thoughtful. "I give you one simple instruction, and
you can't do that." She shook her head, tsking at the
girl. "So what are we going to do?"

"I - I don't know," Samantha gasped. The pain had to
be terrible - but at least she wasn't crying anymore.

Orchid suddenly let of Samantha's tits. First there
was a gasp of relief - then a sharp intake of pain as
blood surged into the tips. Orchid didn't give her
time to adjust. She pulled up her skirt, pulling
Samantha's face into her nearly hairless crotch. She
could imagine what Samantha saw - the puffy, oily lips
glistening at her, the smell of aroused woman right in
her nostrils.

"Noooo," Samantha moaned as Orchid pulled her head
right into her crotch. She struggled slightly, but she
was no match for Orchid's strength. One of the
benefits of working out.

"Do it," Orchid hissed, grinding her pussy into Sam's
nose. "Do it, and I'll take care of you."

Samantha wiggled another moment, then paused. Orchid
heard a sniffle - then felt a tongue on her cunt,
barely stroking the lips. Orchid moved Samantha's head
a little, and the tongue started working on the right
areas. It was hardly an expert pussy licking - but the
obvious inexperience and reluctance made every touch
send sparks of pleasure up Orchid's belly. She moved
Samantha's head up, down, a little to the left - ah,
there, yes - that was it. Samantha must have sensed
the ordeal was ending, because she picked up the pace.
Orchid finally let go of Samantha's head, pulling her
own nipples as Samantha's tongue finally brought her
the release she needed. "Ah - ah- ahahahahahahaaaa,"
Orchid gasped. It wasn't a big orgasm - but it was
still a nice one.

As soon as it was over, she grabbed Samantha's head
again. Samantha knew what was coming, but couldn't
stop it by now as Orchid kissed her, tasting herself
on Samantha's lips. She reached down, unzipping
Samantha's skirt as she pulled the girl into a
standing position, their lips still locked together.
Samantha's pelvis moved about, not to hinder Orchid,
but in response to unwanted feelings surging through
her. In a moment, the skirt was down, the nylons
around her ankles, and she was being eased onto her
back.

Orchid pulled down Samantha's bra straps, nipping the
erect nipples. Samantha lay back, hands seizing the
carpet as Orchid moved down her body. Samantha didn't
have a hairy pussy - something Orchid appreciated, as
she hated pulling pubic hair from her tongue. It was
light, rimmed around the lips.

Orchid pressed her naked pussy lips against
Samantha's, locking their crotches together. She
humped her cunt against the other girl's, rubbing lips
against lips, feeling one of them pressing against her
clit, her own lips rolling over Samantha's. Samantha
was humping back, gripping the carpet as she cried and
humped and cried. Orchid was far from another orgasm,
but it still felt <i>soooo</i> nice.

This was her therapy. Some shrink once told her she
needed an outlet for all the shit she put up with on
the job. This was it. Feeling this naive woman giving
into her, feeling her legs tense with pleasure, unable
to understand why she felt pangs of lust ripple
through her body as Orchid walked into the room, never
understanding that was what made Orchid the most
effective assassin the group had - her power to
inspire emotions with her mind.

She knew that someday, she would come here, and
Samantha would be broken. Orchid would sit in the
leather chair while Samantha stripped bare, pressed
her breasts willingly into Orchid's, rubbed their
pussy lips together until Orchid wished she had a cock
to violate the girl with to make her degregation
complete (fuck Freud and his penis envy, but it was
true).

On that day, Orchid would get Samantha transferred,
and start the process all over again with another
girl. It wasn't the sex - that wasn't the pleasure. It
was the challenge, breaking down the walls, the
inhibitions, using her power in a way she was sure God
would never approve of.

But hey - we all have to have a hobby.

<hr>

The Chairman was sitting at his desk. He looked up as
she walked in. She knew better than to screw with his
mind. She tried it. Once. Almost got a 9mm planted in
her skull. The two of them understood the only reason
why he missed by an inch - it was a warning. The only
one she would ever get.

The Chairman was pushing 60, an old man who was still
fit. He had been a commando or Rambo or some shit way
back when, then put himself into this division of the
military because he was smart enough to know he didn't
want to be sneaking around a piss filled trench in a
battle, but the guy killing the enemy's
commander-in-chief. Odds of living were better that
way.

She didn't know his real name, and there were enough
stories about him to fill a whole library of Tom
Clancy novels. She figured about 99% of it was stuff
people had just made up. All she knew is he had
discovered her after she killed her foster father with
a kitchen knife. She didn't wield it - she had made
the child raping bastard so depressed he put the knife
to his own throat before he could rip Orchid's cherry.
She had been sloppy back then - the son of a bitch
didn't have a reason to kill himself, no depression,
well known figure, blah, blah, blah - and The Chairman
had heard about it, researched it himself, and brought
Orchid into the family and had her trained. He also
personally picked out his secretaries. Orchid
sometimes wondered if he had a video camera out there
to watch the proceedings. If he did, she didn't give a
shit - probably blackmail material he used to keep his
secretaries' pretty mouths shut.

He placed a set of files on his desk for her. "Here's
the situation." The Chairman didn't stand for small
talk. Orchid liked that about him. No bullshit - just
'Here's the job, go do it, don't come back until you
do.' "Scientist makes this virus. He gets this big ass
attack of conscious, goes on about how it could alter
humanity forever, and rather than use the proper
channels, he takes off with all the prototypes. We're
pretty sure he destroyed most of them - found some
ashes in his oven with trace DNA, baked beyond use,
but we're 99% sure he got one vial out. Probably
thought he could take it to the press.

"He was neutralized - but the agent didn't retrieve
the last sample. It's still out there, and we have
some ideas as to where it might be."

Orchid flipped through the file. At least the city
wasn't too bad - no hick town or any crap like that,
decent sized, she shouldn't have too much of a problem
blending in. She looked at the information. "Some guy
dies of a heart attack, and you think the kid's
involved? You don't know for sure?"

"No." The Chairman didn't mince words either. "Could
just be a fluke. But we need someone who can get in,
find out if this guy shows any of the symptoms
detailed in the report, and if he does, eliminate him
and possibly anybody he's infected. If not, leave the
kid alone to enjoy his jerking off time."

Orchid frowned. "So why the fuck call me? I'm no
detective."

"Kid's a high school student. You are called in for
reasons I think you'll find obvious. And, if he is
trouble, you're probably the only person who could
handle him."

"Hmph." Orchid knew about the "obvious reasons". Half
a dozen agents could fit into a high school without
attracting attention. Another half dozen could
probably take out the kid - even if all the shit this
virus was suppose to do worked. Not too many could do
both. Orchid was one of them, whether she liked it or
not.

The Chairman knew that. He trusted her with this
assignment. Orchid almost felt a flush of pride
knowing the old man trusted her that much. She didn't
have any kind of father feelings for the guy - but she
respected him. She might hate her job for all the
bullshit it put her through, but it was probably
better than whatever gutter life she had originally
been headed for.

"I leave today?"

"Tomorrow," the Chairman said. "Give yourself time to
pack, pick out the right clothes, whatever. Standard
expense account and procedures." He nodded once,
signalling the interview was over.

Orchid took the hint. She picked up the file, nodded
back at him, and left the office. Samantha was sitting
at her desk, looking a little more disheveled than
when Orchid had come inside.

She leaned over Samantha's shoulder, kissing her on
the cheek. "See you next time, Sam." The girl gave her
a sickly, guilty smile.

God, but she hated this job. But the benefits made up
for it.

<hr>

A thousand miles away, Steve sat at his desk at home,
flipping through his textbook, not really reading it.
He sneezed suddenly, once, twice, three times. He
grabbed a tissue, blowing his nose before tossing it
into the garbage. "Hm," he muttered. "Somebody must be
talking about me."

The phone rang a second later. He heard his mother
moving around downstairs, then her voice called up.
"Steve! It's for you!"

Steve picked up the line in his room - a novelty since
his father died. He felt a split second guilt over the
thought before he pushed it back down. "Got it, Mom!"
He yelled back. He waited until he heard the click,
then said, "Hello?"

"Steve? It's Nicole." Steve knew that the second he
heard her voice. Another pang of guilt hit him in the
gut. He wondered how long it would be until he got an
ulcer. "Look, I've got to see you tomorrow - can you
come over to my house?" His system was obviously
confused, as he felt his cock stirring in hopeful
anticipation, remembering the feel of her tight, tiny
virgin cunt squeezing it, and his chest echoing his
stomach's pang of renewed guilt.

"Um, sure," Steve said. "Morning, afternoon -"

"Noon's good - my parent's will be out of town for the
weekend," Nicole told him. His cock lurched a little
bit more at the idea of being alone with the busty
blond.

"Ok - I'll be there."

"Great," Nicole chirped. "Amanda and I have a lot to
talk to you about. See you then! Bye!"

The phone clicked as she hung up. Steve's whole body
went cold as he heard the dial tone, his cock turning
from stone to snake in an instant. He hung up the
phone, staring at it like it was the fault of all his
problems.

Two women. One house. He had slept with both of them.
They were going to cut off his balls and hand them to
him. He rubbed his face, sighing heavily.

Steve was not having a good day.


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