by Randi Darren
Sam thought hard on the problem.
The time isn’t that bad. It’ll take us that long just to get most of the equipment over to the complex. We technically don’t even start doing the crossover until that point.
I’d really just be losing a few days spent ‘recruiting’ imps and… spinning my wheels.
If I took Wren, Tiffany, and Stacia, that’d be a very strong group. We could make it work incredibly well.
Wren and Tiffany were bored anyways. They’ve been doing really basic stuff.
With Abigail.
Huh, maybe bring Abigail? She’s pretty quickly becoming the electronics tech. Irma mentioned she isn’t really doing much for the Harem or Feed Harem anymore.
Then again… with as much Essence as I send her way and Life Essence from her networked deals… she’s going to live a few thousand years at this point.
And… and I don’t want her to die.
I should pull her into a formal Incubus contract and keep her as she is today.
Wren, Tiffany, Abigail, Stacia, Me. That’s five.
“You said five would be a squeeze?” Sam asked, his eyes moving back to Eugenia.
“Yes, but doable. You’ll just end up with almost no room to move for twelve hours. I can only imagine using the bathroom will be… unpleasant,” Eugenia said. “And portals won’t work where you’re going by the way.”
Tiffany’s kinda small. So is Stacia.
I can make this work.
“Alright. I’ll do it on one condition. Just how much of a favor is this that you’ll owe me?” Sam asked.
“Anything you want,” Eugenia said, smiling up at him as she laid her arms around Sam’s shoulders.
“What if I wanted to put a few children in you?” Sam asked, deciding to test just how far he’d charmed Eugenia, and how much of a favor she was talking about.
Blinking several times, Eugenia took in a slow and shaky breath.
“Alright,” Eugenia choked out, then cleared her throat. “That’s fine. I can give you children, but this’ll need to be a lot more than just being lovers. You’ll need to help me raise them as their father.”
“Ah. Yes,” Sam replied, suddenly realizing he’d done far more than seduce Eugenia and that she was actually in love with him. “I was—”
“Good. Good. We can start trying for a pregnancy today then,” Eugenia said, her arms tightening around his shoulders. “I hadn’t expected to be a mother but… I think I can do it.”
“Let’s put a hold on that,” Sam said, suddenly realizing he couldn’t actually back out of the favor he’d asked for either. It’d risk Eugenia’s mood and how she felt about him. “Maybe after your father gets back. For now, we’ll just call it a favor owed.”
“Oh. Yes, that’d be better. Perfect,” Eugenia said, smiling at him. “We should still practice anyways. Maybe it’s unbecoming of me or maybe I’m just more of a bad girl than I ever thought, but… I really… want to have sex right now.”
Why not?
“Then let’s go find you a bed, my Judge,” Sam said smiling back at her. “A lady such as the Judge shouldn’t be enjoyed on the dirty ground, but always in something soft and worthy of her.”
“Good that you know it,” Eugenia murmured, staring up at him.
Twenty-Eight - Filled Box -
Tiffany grunted and shifted around in the tightly packed box.
She ended up getting her shoulder up under Sam’s, but not much more than that.
“Ugh. Okay, can we swap again? My shoulder is going numb,” Tiffany whispered.
“Sure, get on your back,” Sam said with a grin.
Though they were in pitch blackness, he knew Tiffany could see as well as he could.
“No!” Hissed the Were. “You end up talking me out of my pants. I’m already a mess down there. I don’t need any more of your spunk running down into my butt crack.”
“Sure you do. You need as much as you can be filled with,” Sam disagreed, slowly moving from one side to the other. Sliding Tiffany down onto her back in the crate. “Like an empty bank vault that needs to be filled to the brim with deposits.”
“Sammy, knock it off. I’m literally oozing all over and… and… fine. Whatever. Fill me up,” Tiffany said, giving up. Getting down on her back, she reached down between them and started working at her pants. “Not like it can get any worse than it is in my fucking swampy panties and it isn’t like I don’t like sex.”
The crate suddenly began to glow green.
“You’re shitting me,” Tiffany said, her top button undone and her zipper down. Looking down toward her feet, just as Sam was, they could both see the indicator was flashing a steady green. Then she looked back up at him with a smirk. “Raincheck?”
“Of course. Can’t get enough of my Were,” Sam said and then kissed Tiffany deeply.
Clutching to him, Tiffany kissed him back just as ardently. Her knee coming up to rub against his thigh.
Having spent the last twelve hours locked in a tight-fitting box with Tiffany had been interesting. At first she’d been just as she always was.
Recalcitrant, moody, and slightly angry.
Two orgasms and a lot of kissing later and Tiffany had become a font of emotions, hidden desires, and wishes.
Followed by an innumerable number of orgasms.
The Were was softening faster than Sam had.
She’d even somehow managed to talk a conversation around the idea that she’d eventually like to have kids. That she and Stacia had talked about it briefly.
Pulling her head back with an exhale, Tiffany laughed softly.
“Good. You’re going to get a lot of Were. And Vamp. Stace and I plan on stealing more of your time. We figure between the two of us, you’re more likely to do what we want,” Tiffany said. “Now get off me and open the lid.”
Regretfully, Sam shifted to one side and laid his hand to the lid above them. Putting a trickle of Essence into it, he activated the warding that held the whole thing shut.
With a wooden creak, it began to groan. There was a suddenly tinkling as the nails gave way and landed atop what sounded like concrete.
Pushing against the lid, Sam felt the whole thing move, then topple to one side as its center of weight went over the edge.
With a bang and a clatter, Sam freed himself.
Getting to his feet, he peered around the room they were in.
Eugenia had told him they’d be dumped in a warehouse that they should be able to operate freely out of.
Or at least for thirty-six hours before someone came to deliver the next shipment.
Tiffany reached up and patted Sam on the stomach roughly.
“Hey, fun view and all but can you get off me?” Tiffany whispered. “I need to secure the room. Wren will fuckin’ scoop my brains out if I don’t do my job.”
They do defer to Wren as an element leader if Decima isn’t around.
Decima then Wren. But planning is all Stacia and Irene.
Getting off Tiffany, Sam got out of the crate and looked for the other two.
Spotting the smaller of the two, Sam went over to it.
At the same time, Tiffany stood up, got her fly and pants buttoned, shouldered her SMG, and got out of the crate.
Watching Tiffany as she started to clear the room, Sam fed another trickle of Essence into the warding.
Looking back to the wooden top, he watched the nails leap out of their holes.
Interesting.
Pulling the lid off, he peered inside.
Irene was there, curled up in a fetal position. Armored vests and ammo cans were all around her. The two headed soul that was also Irene was curled up in an identical position inside the crate, though half merged through the items as well.
Admiring the view, Sam smiled at Irene who was peering up at him with squinting eyes.
“Oh, look. I found a toy at the bottom of my box,” Sam murmured. “I can’t wait to play with it. A lot.”
“Har har,” I
rene said with a muted smile. Then she held a hand up to him. “Help me out already?”
Grabbing her hand and reaching in to slip his other hand under Irene’s shoulder, he pried her out of the crate.
“Ugh. Caer, you made our chest way too big,” Irene complained, pushing her breasts around inside of her clothes.
The two-headed soul sat up from the crate.
Caer began to clearly argue about that point, the Irene-head nodding along.
“No. No, he doesn’t,” Irene said stepping out of the crate. “They don’t need to be this huge to get his attention. Do they, Sam?”
“I mean, it helps. You’re beautiful,” Sam said with a shrug as he started looking around for the last crate. “But no, they’re not needed.”
“See? He said…”
Frowning, Sam’s head whipped around to where the soul was. He swore he’d heard something just now. Staring hard at the beautifully strange ephemeral being, Sam tried to listen.
“I agree!” said the Irene-head. “Big boobs are exactly what we needed to…”
The voice faded away again. The Caer-head responded to whatever Irene had finished with.
“—will keep his attention on us. We need to keep him to ourself. All ours,” the Caer-head said.
“Yes! We love him, we must keep him. We hate everyone else! They steal his time from us!” proclaimed the Irene-head. “Even Caer loves him just from the short time she’s been here.”
“Well… I don’t know about love him. But I want to have sex with him really bad. I ache so badly in…”
Again, the sound of Caer’s voice faded away.
Either I’m getting more attuned to their soul, or they’re getting stronger.
Reaching out, Sam casually grabbed the soul by its core and took it firmly in hand.
Causing both heads to let out deep moans. Then draped themselves over Sam’s arm, clinging to him.
Squeezing her core, Sam held onto her, and went to the other crate.
Irene tottered where she stood for a second, having to grab the top of the crate she’d been in.
“Oooh. Not so rough, Sammy. Warn a girl next time before you manhandle her soul,” Irene complained, then clearly got herself physically under control. “I mean, I admit I like it, but just warn me.”
Rubbing his thumb along the soul-core, Sam laid his other hand against the warding that held Wren and Abigail.
Stacia had been needed for the primary mission against Jena. Which was why Irene had been subbed in.
Rounding his team out was Wren, Tiffany, Irene, Abigail, and himself.
“Harder!” cried the Irene-head.
“Squeeze it, squeeze it!” demanded the Caer-head. “Squeeze us! Make us pop our panties!”
Smirking, Sam could only wonder at what Irene likely had to listen to all day. Her soul was always rather very blunt about what it wanted, as far as he could tell.
And that was before they could converse.
With a clatter, the lid of the last crate slid off, revealing the contents.
An annoyed looking Wren, and a bleary eyed Abigail.
“Thank you,” Wren growled. “She snores as loud as a truck motor.”
“Sorry,” Abigail groaned as Wren stood up and got out of the crate. “Still getting used to this.”
Wren shook her head in annoyance, grabbing up her SMG that’d been stowed at her feet. In seconds, she had it up and ready.
“Tiffany is working to clear the area,” Sam said.
“Good,” Wren growled.
Sam grabbed the big Cambion by her collar and pulled her into himself, kissing her hard.
After several seconds, he eased her away and patted her on the chest.
“Be nice. And thank you for being you,” Sam said. Then he reached into the crate and helped Abigail get to her feet.
A bemused and somewhat stunned-looking Wren took several steps away from Sam before she got her footing. Then she raised her SMG and stalked off toward where Tiffany was.
“Thanks,” Abigail said with a moan. Then she started rubbing at her hips. “That was a tight fit. I think Wren’s elbow was in my boobs and her hip in my gut the whole way over.”
“I imagine,” Sam said, squeezing on Irene’s soul-core. It elicited a dual moan from the spirit. “Your gear is in my crate. Set up and get yourself ready.”
“Yeah, on it,” Abigail said with a yawn.
Walking over to the crate, she stuck her head in and then stood up straight.
“Oh, my god. It reeks of sex,” Abigail said with an accusatory tone. Turning in place, she stared right at Sam.
“Was a long wait. We passed the time,” Sam answered and then went back over to Irene. Squeezing her core like it was a stress ball the entire time.
Letting out a short huff as he got closer, Irene looked up from the boxes she was pulling out of the crate.
“If you’re going to make me dirty my panties, could you wait till after I finish unloading?” Irene asked in a breathy voice.
Glancing to the soul, Sam saw that both Caer and Irene were clearly deep in the throes of pleasure.
“Yeah, I can do that,” Sam said. “Everything make it okay? You’re our way out after this,” said Sam.
Eugenia had told them that their escape would be how they got in. Being transported without being checked.
The next pickup was going to be in thirty-six hours and it’d be whatever crates were put out in the front lobby. After those were tagged and dumped through, they’d bring in the delivery as well.
At that point, everything would go to shit when they realized the armory had been attacked.
“Yeah, the warding seals made it just fine,” answered Irene, looking back to her work. “Everything’s here. I’ll get the pocket-dimension set up shortly and we can start emptying this place first.”
“Great. Thanks Irene. I know you weren’t expecting to be here but… I appreciate it,” said Sam, stroking Irene’s core tenderly and giving it a light squeeze.
“Nnnn, of course, Sammy,” Irene said, her eyes fluttering closed for a second. “You know how I feel. Even if I don’t say it. I’m sure it’s obvious. Just doing my part.”
“I love you,” said Irene’s soul. “I love you so much. You saw me always for what I was and never shied away. I love you. I love you!”
“I’m kinda falling for you,” said Caer. “You were flirting with me and you were clearly interested in me. And you knew I was Lich.”
Hm. Such a twisted thing.
Good thing her soul is honest.
“I hope you kill us with sex,” Irene’s soul purred. “I want to die with your dick inside me. To feel my heart stop as you ram it in me. Bury a knife in my heart as you fuck me wildly.”
“Oh! Yes! I’d… yes! Please!” cried Caer’s soul. “I want to feel my death as I hit an orgasm. Please?”
Very twisted.
***
Wren and Tiffany were camped out in front of the only way into the warehouse. A large caliber machine gun on a bi-pod positioned atop a number of crates was their defense.
Tiffany was behind the weapon right now, while Wren took a break nearby.
Irene and Abigail were systematically going through the warehouse and pushing or pulling everything into the pocket dimension Eugenia had provided.
Sam was personally reminded of what cartoons called “Hammerspace” as far as the pocket dimension was concerned. It existed where it was held, and could hold anything, as well as allow anything to be retrieved that’d been put into it.
And what would happen if I put Jenaphila in it?
Wandering over to where Wren rested, Sam looked at the Were behind the weapon.
“I can hear them out there every now and then,” Tiffany said, not looking away from the sights of her weapon. “Usually just walking by, but… I can hear them.”
“You already said that,” Wren mumbled, half asleep. “We’ll just follow the plan and we’ll be fine. Nothing in or out except for th
e scheduled times. Remember?”
“She probably wasn’t talking to you, my sweet Cambion,” Sam said with a chuckle. He was looming over Wren right now.
Eyes snapping open, Wren’s reddish-brown orbs focused in on him.
“Oh, hey,” Wren said, giving him a slow smile. “My turn in the crate with you?”
Snickering at that, Sam shrugged his shoulders.
“I wish. When we’re done, sure,” Sam replied.
“After you pay my raincheck,” Tiffany corrected him. “Taking you home to Stace. Then you can go find the chew toy.”
“Chew toy?” Sam asked. It was the second time someone had called Wren that. He wanted to make sure they were talking about Wren.
“I mean, I kinda am,” Wren admitted, closing her eyes with a grin. “I don’t mind it. I like being your favorite chew toy. Keyword favorite.
“Don’t be jealous, Tiff.”
Tiffany snorted at that and started to respond, before the words died on her lips.
Easing forward, she braced the butt of the machinegun into her shoulder and slid her finger into the trigger guard.
“Don’t fire immediately,” Sam murmured, realizing what was about to happen. “Gimmie a second to see if I can—”
The door to the warehouse swung inward and a young man with a clipboard in his other hand stepped inside.
He was clearly Human and looked to be dressed for a normal day at a business office.
“What—”
Sam snared the man and lashed his mind with his own.
Stumbling to his knees, the man groaned and then crumpled to the ground completely. Gradually curling up into a fetal position.
The door slowly swung shut all on its own.
Moving beyond Tiffany and the now rising Wren, Sam stepped over to the man and grabbed him by one shoulder. Dragging him out of the way, Sam took him back behind the gun emplacement.
Rolling him over on his back, Sam stared hard into the man’s eyes.
