ExplicitNovels

By Steamy StoriesSociety & Culture Philosophy Personal Journals Sexuality

ExplicitNovels episodes

July 09 Daughter of the Revolution: Part 4
Daughter
of the Revolution: Part 4
Abby shares
her man with Rose and June.
In 15 parts,
based on a post by Seethegood. Listen
to the ► Podcast at Connected.

The next day
dawned bright and warm. The girls begged Alec to come swimming with them in a
nearby lake and he happily agreed. After a good breakfast, they saddled their
horses and headed out. It was only a mile or so to the lake and they made good
time despite the route that led them through the dense forest.
They'd hoped
that Alec would get some rest that day, but he was a young man and had
recovered his energy quickly. He insisted that he swim a few laps around the
lake for exercise and the girls were amazed at how graceful and quick he was in
the water. They loved watching him swim by while his firm bottom and lean back
flexed and rippled with tight muscle. More than one pussy was wet and
wanting at the sight.
They finally
talked him out of the water to rest on a clean blanket spread on the ground.
June checked the stitches in his wound and they'd held nicely despite his
exertions.
Abby sat next
to him and stroked the bristly whiskers on his face. He hadn't shaved since
she'd rescued him and she noticed he'd taken to scratching them often, figuring
they must be uncomfortable for him. He must have read her mind because he
commented about it.
"My
whiskers get a certain length and get itchy as hell. If I can get through that
stage and they get longer and softer it's easier to put up with," he said
while rubbing his face briskly.
"Do you
mind if I shave you?"
He gave her a
bit of a sideways look.
"Have you
ever done it before?"
"No, but
June has, she can talk me through it."
June slid over
to rub her tits on his big bicep.
"You
betcha, I can shave many things, quite closely in fact," she said with a
sultry smile and kissed his rough cheek.
He sighed in
resignation. "I'm yours, ladies. Do what you will to this poor
soldier!"
June went to
her horse and returned with her shaving kit while he looked at her curiously.
"Something
tells me I'm the victim of a devious plot," he said chuckling.
"Indeed
you are," Rose piped up from her blanket.
He glanced over
at her and caught his breath. She was laying on her back with her hands tucked
behind her head. She was still dripping from her swim and the cool breeze had
dusted her breasts and arms in goosebumps while her nipples were delightfully
hard and pointing skyward. Her pussy was a round mound between her
prominent hip bones and was split like a ripe peach down it's center.
Abby noticed
his hot gaze on her friend and felt a stab of jealousy, but quickly overcame it
when she remembered how loving he'd been with her the night before. She knew
she had his heart, and for now that would have to do and she found peace with
that.
June had put
some water in her shaving mug and was ready with her straight razor. Abby
tugged him up to sit on a nearby boulder and commenced to shave him, albeit
somewhat awkwardly. June stepped in every now and then with pointers and Alec
bravely managed to submit to their attentions. They only nicked him once and he
considered it a success overall.
June kicked him
off the boulder to make room for herself. He watched, fascinated when she
lathered up and shaved her pussy, legs and armpits smooth in only a few
minutes.
Finished, she
then shaved Abby and Rose in the same manner, then the three jumped in the lake
to rinse themselves clean. Abby was the first out and she nestled down still
naked in Alec's lap.
"How're
you feeling this morning, lover? We talked last night and decided to give you a
day to heal up, but you seem quite chipper today," she asked as she
nuzzled in the hollow of his neck.
"I feel
great," he answered, and kissed the top of her head. "After you
ladies spoiled me rotten last night, I slept like a baby. I didn't even dream,
which is odd for me."
She hugged him
tightly before replying. "Do you feel well enough for us to play with you?
The girls are a bit feisty and I know how they feel. I haven't had you inside
me for days and I need you, my love, terribly."
He held her in
his strong arms and cradled her tenderly. "I'm here for you, Angel.
Anything you want from me is yours to take. I owe you so much I can never repay
you in a lifetime." he said softly.
"You owe
me nothing. I feel you've given me a new chapter in my life. Since I lost my
family I've been treading water, but now I feel so alive. It's amazing. Thank
you, my love." Abby assured him.
He felt a hot
tear drip on his shoulder and he tipped her chin up to kiss her soft lips until
she whimpered in pleasure.
She broke away
when she heard the girls walk up, dripping from the lake. She looked at Rose
and gave her a nod along with a sly wink. Rose extended a hand to Alec and
pulled him up to reseat him on the nearby boulder. Abby put a folded blanket on
the ground between his feet and knelt down. He looked at her with such love in
his eyes that her heart melted even more than it had earlier. She caught him in
her small hands and began licking and stroking him to full tumescence.
He ran his
fingers through her wet hair and tucked it behind her ears, highlighting her
perfect cheekbones and full lips in the bright sun. June arrived to stand
behind him and run her hands up and down his thickly muscled torso, teasing his
nipples while he leaned his head back between her breasts and sighed in
satisfaction.
By now, Abby's
ministrations had him hard as a rock and quivering in her hands. Rose came over
and knelt down beside Abby, her hands filled with June's barber tools. His eyes
widened in alarm when she took a small comb and gently tugged it through his
thick pubic hair, then with great care trimmed his bush down to no longer than
half an inch. His cock rapidly deflated under her assault, and a giggling Abby
returned him to full mast with her hot, wet mouth when Rose was finished.
He winced when
Rose moved in to lather up his tight ball sack.
"Keep him
hard, honey," she said to Abby. "See how his balls are, all tight in
his sack? If you keep him stiff and ready, his balls will stay that way making
it so much easier to shave him," she counseled. She caught her little
tongue between her teeth in concentration and commenced raking the razor over
his tender testicles. He couldn't help but hold his breath as he watched the
wicked blade do its duty.
He started
going limp, but Abby was on him immediately. She kept him achingly hard until
Rose was finished, while he sweated above them both, fearing the worst.
"Good job,
honey," June complimented and kissed his neck.
Rose pulled him
to the lake with a firm grip on his massive tool, and the other girls followed
them for a quick frolic. A minute didn't go by that a warm, feminine hand
wasn't on his body, caressing him and inflaming his passion.
"Are you
sure you can handle us today?" Abby asked as she clung to his broad back
from behind.
"You bet,
or I'll die trying!" he exclaimed while chuckling.
She kissed his
smooth cheek and asked softly, "Can I be first? I know it's selfish but I
need you."
"Of
course, Abby my sweet. I'm yours, always."
"The girls
might want to help, is that okay?"
"If you're
fine with it, then I am to."
"I want
nothing more than to have you inside and make you feel good, big man. Take me
to shore."
She wrapped her
legs around his hips and piggybacked while he strode dripping to the beach and
deposited her on the blanket. Kneeling, she took him in her hands. She smiled
when Rose knelt next her and kissed her cheek.
"Can I be
of assistance here?" she teased lightly, while her eyes flamed with
passion.
Abby pulled off
and offered her. Rose groaned and swirling her tongue around, while his knees
nearly buckled in pleasure. He twitched violently when June's clever hand slid
up under him from behind to caress and explore.
Abby's patience
was in short supply and she took his hand and pulled him down over as she laid.
She steered until she groaned in painful pleasure.
"Oh,
you're so damn big," she managed and put a hand on his belly.
"Sorry,
I'm trying to be gentle," he managed between gritted teeth.
"Let me do
it," she said softly, and began rolling her hips.
For several
minutes she pleasured herself until she felt her orgasm rising within her. She
stroked her clit with one hand and his shaft with the other while he held
himself immobile above her. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he fought back his
own orgasm. She was so hot and tight around him, she was driving him crazy with
the need to bury himself deep and ruthlessly plunder her depths.
With fierce
concentration he managed to resist his urge and allow her to take what she
needed. Her tightness finally tipped her over the edge and she came hard. Her
eyes were locked on their union and the sight of him raised her pleasure even
higher. He felt her spasm the tickle of his own orgasm begin.
When June's
hand crept up behind him to gently caress, he lost himself. He unleashed thick
and Abby cried out, squirming beneath him. June squeezed rhythmically and he
howled like a beast when he poured his soul into Abby's depths.
Abby pulled him
down to lay his weight on her and crooned words of love in his ear as the last
tremors of orgasm wracked her body. Rose and June were caressing Alec's sweat
beaded back and laid hot kisses on his neck while he shivered in post orgasm.
He laid on Abby until she wriggled around and finally protested.
"You're
squishing me a little, can you roll me over please?" she asked softly. He
gathered her to him, rolled over so she was atop his large frame. Rose and June
continued caressing his flanks and slowly moved up to do the same to the sides
of Abby's warm back. She stiffened slightly in alarm, but Alec's big hands
joined their's
and she relaxed somewhat, allowing her friends to play.
Abby stirred
and slid off of him.
He groaned in
pleasure as the two girls licked him clean. Abby could do nothing but stare at
her companions, wondering how in the world they knew of such behavior.
"Umm, you
two are so good," June said softly, then swallowed, causing his eyes to
widen in wonder.
Rose just
moaned her approval in her mouth. Abby used her shirt to wipe clean, shaking
her head in amazement.
Finally, Rose
sat up on her knees.
"June,
it's your turn," she said in a low, sultry voice.
"Are you
sure?" the dusky girl asked a bit timidly.
"Get up
here you little wench!" Rose ordered with a wink. June crouched over.
Abby was wide
eyed.
June cried out
as Alec became almost too much for her.
She must have
passed out because she fell nearly lifeless on top of him, quivering.
"Oh,
shit!" he cried out in alarm. Rose put a steadying hand on his sweaty
shoulder while giggling aloud.
"Sometimes
she does that. She holds her breath too long. She says it feels amazing, maybe
I'll try it sometime," she said with an evil smile and winked at him.
"Well,
she's scaring the hell outta me!" he said, not convinced at all until she
stirred and gasped for air as she woke up.
"Ah damn
it, I did it again," she cursed, then snickered aloud. "Did I miss
anything fun?"
"Just Alec
having a heart attack," Rose said while laughing along with Abby.
"I just
couldn't help it. That is so good it just takes my breath away!"
She leaned down
and covered him in hot kisses until he was gasping for air. She eventually sat
up and wriggled her hips.
"Ouch,"
she complained with a happy smile and rubbed her tight belly. "You went
places no man has gone before. You hit something that's mighty tender in there,
but it felt amazing at the same time."
"Did I
hurt you too bad?"
"Nope,
just right. Besides, I was in control, any hurts are on me."
She kissed him
again, then slowly raised up.
"Oh my
goodness," Rose said softly. "I just adore young men."
Abby ran a hand
over his abs and down. Alec watched as she eyed speculatively and he could see
her eyes change when she overcame another mental obstacle. She had a determined
look on her beautiful face.
He sensed the
change in her and cupped her face in his hands, throwing his head back in
ecstasy. Almost frantically she worked over him until she was flushed and
tingling with excitement. When she had a small but explosive orgasm.
Rose and June
watched her in astonishment while she moaned and quivered in pleasure.
"Oh shit,
what happened to me?" she asked in bewilderment while her friends giggled
helplessly behind their hands. Cumming while she sucked, had never entered her
mind and she was awestruck. Alec pulled her down and kissed her deeply.
"I've
never seen anything sexier than that," he whispered in her ear and she
grinned happily. Rose laid down next to them and shared a kiss with him.
"Do ya
have any energy left, big man?” Rose quietly asked. “I know a certain girl that
badly needs you inside her."
She gave him
her beautiful eyes and rubbed on his bicep. He winked at her, then feigned a
pained expression.
"I don't
know, I'm feeling awful tired and my leg hurts."
She slapped his
shoulder and kissed him hard.
"You big
wimp, letting us poor little girls wear you out so easily!" she kidded,
but rose up to check on his wound which had been quite forgotten in the day's
activities.
"Hmm, it
looks absolutely awful. We girls had better leave you alone for a month or two
until you heal up completely!"
1 hr 15 min
July 08 Daughter of the Revolution: Part 3
Daughter
of the Revolution: Part 3
Abby and
Alec see combat together.
In 15 parts,
based on a post by Seethegood. Listen
to the ►
Podcast
at Connected.

"Up with
you, soldier!" Rose demanded. "It's time we got you some new
duds."
The two women
dragged out George's old clothes and their sewing kits, then pulled Alec's
towel from his hips and tortured him endlessly while measuring his limbs and
torso. When they were satisfied, they commenced to modifying the shirts and
trousers to fit him better. Abby started dinner and while she was at the
cookstove, Alec talked her out of a clean pot, then winking at her went out to
milk the cow and design a corral.
Immediately,
Rose and June descended and plied her with questions.
"So, did
you two fuck?" Rose asked.
"Yes, we
made love and slept together," Abby said demurely.
"I say you
fucked. How could you not? What a beast he is!" June swooned and threw a
hand to her forehead theatrically, while Rose giggled helplessly.
"Was he
huge and thick? Did he hurt you terribly?" Rose asked curiously, while her
face and upper breasts flushed red with arousal as she pictured Alec driving in
her friend. Finally, Abby broke down and giggled along with her friends. She
found that discussing her love life with her friends was turning out to be
quite exciting.
"Oh, you
have no idea! I thought I'd never get him in me. I had to have him do it for
me. It hurt like hell but it was also amazing. I came a few times and he
blasted everywhere. Then he went down until I thought I'd explode. He's getting
very good at that now," she enthused.
For quite
awhile as she cooked dinner, Abby went on and on about her experience with
Alec, and both her friends grew excited while their little pussies wept in
their undergarments as they imagined themselves in Abby's place. Rose's
curiosity about one particular thing finally got the best of her and she had to
ask.
"Have you
decided if you'll share Alec with us? We've been on pins and needles
wondering."
"Alec and
I have talked and we've decided to do it," Abby replied. June broke in and
let out a little yelp of joy and wriggled her ass and tits wildly in her seat
while Rose hugged her excitedly.
Abby continued,
"I do have a rule or two though. In the beginning, I want to be with both
of you and Alec when you're in bed, I don't think I can handle being away and
wondering what's going on. Next, I want to sleep with him every night. Both of
you can as well, but I will absolutely be there with him," she finished
firmly.
"Fair
enough, we'll do as you ask without question," Rose said resolutely. She
knew what she was asking of Abby, and was still concerned if she was truly okay
with it. She gathered Abby in her arms and hugged her gently.
"If you
ever change your mind or have some hard feelings, please tell us immediately,
don't let it fester up inside you. We love you and care deeply for you and
couldn't bear to have you angry with us," Rose whispered in her ear.
Abby kissed her
cheek and pulled June in close to buss her as well.
"You two
are my best friends ever," Abby sniffled. "There's one more thing
though. I'm taking Alec hunting redcoats tomorrow. He doesn't know it yet but
that's my plan. I'm uncomfortable with sitting around here so long and I need
to get out and look around."
The girls
nodded in agreement. They knew how seriously Abby took their predicament
concerning the enemy and they relied on her to keep them safe.
"You'll be
extra safe, please?" June asked plaintively.
"Of
course, dear June. I not only need to look around but I want to see how Alex
handles himself. I know he's a soldier, but our way of fighting is nothing like
he's been exposed to. I hate to manipulate him, but it's for our greater good
to find out how capable he is."
"I hadn't
thought of that, but it makes perfect sense," Rose said. "You sure pack
a lot smarts in that beautiful blonde head of yours."
Abby blushed
and shook her head. "I don't think so, I just try to do what my Papa would
do in this situation." June hugged her close, then the three got quiet and
misty eyed for a few moments while they thought of their lost relatives.
Alec chose that
moment to walk in the door with a pot full of frothy milk. Abby sprang up to
take it from him and she poured it in a glass jar, then June went to the nearby
creek and fetched some cold water to put it in so it would keep longer.
While Abby
finished dinner, Rose and June fitted Alec with a pair of trousers they'd
modified while they'd been chatting with Abby.
He patiently
stood while they joined gussets of fabric from another pair to allow room for
his muscular thighs and firm ass. They giggled when he stepped in them and they
tacked the panels together with stitches.
His burgeoning
shaft left quite an impression in the material as it hung down his thigh, much
to their delight. He started in surprise when Rose ran a soft thumb over the
ridge of his tool and she shivered in pleasure when it jerked in response to
her touch. He looked down at her and she gave him a sultry wink while she gazed
up at him from her position on her knees. She knew he was picturing his cock in
her mouth and she licked her lips slowly while he stared down in wonder.
June wasn't to
be outdone and she knelt beside him, then daintily stitched an inseam while her
soft hand caressed him gently. He let out a soft groan when Abby slid behind
him and wrapped her warm arms around his bare torso. She trailed her fingers
over his hard pectorals and teased his nipples until he was nearly squirming.
"Agh! You ladies are
killing me!" he managed to say, while they giggled softly.
Abby slapped
his ass playfully and announced that dinner was ready. Reluctantly, the two
seamstresses got to their feet and together the group sat down for dinner. Abby
hated to rain on their party but her urge to get out and recon the area won
out.
"Alec,
would you like to go hunting tomorrow? You can shoot father's rifle in the
morning to see where it hits for you, then we can take off for a day or two.
What do ya think?"
"Absolutely,
I'm ready to go do something. My back is much better and I'd love to go for a
ride with you," he responded immediately. She kissed him and rubbed his
meaty shoulder.
"Wonderful,
I was hoping you'd say that. I think that after dinner we should get some
sleep. I'd like to head out early."
He nodded
happily, not noticing the crestfallen looks on the other two women's faces.
They'd been hoping for a night of fun with him, but they understood Abby's
reasons to go active again. These last few days were the longest she'd gone
without pursuing her war against the British and she was ready for some action.
Alec finished
up and went outside to take a piss, so Abby used the time to thank her friends
for understanding.
"I don't
mind, really. I've been so long without a man that I can wait a few more
days," June said while kissing Abby's cheek.
"Me
too," Rose admitted with a long face, then broke out with a huge smile.
"June and I will just stay here alone and dream up naughty things to do
with Alec when y'all return."
"As long
as those things include me, I hope so," Abby said with a smile.
Abby plied Alec
with drink until he had a bit of a glow on, then took him to bed. She laid on
her side and tucked his face between her warm breasts. In no time he was
breathing quietly and dropped off to a deep sleep. June and Rose leaned over
him and gently kissed his head, then kissed Abby goodnight and retired to the
table where they worked long into the night to hand sew Alec's new wardrobe.
The next
morning, the smell of Abby cooking a hot breakfast awoke the cabin. As dawn was
just breaking, Alec went out and fired the 50 caliber rifle a few times and got
comfortable with the sights and impact of the bullets. Abby continued to cook
while paying close attention to the time it took him to reload. He seemed to be
quite adequate at it and she peered out to see how well he was hitting his
targets, pleasantly surprised to see he'd done quite well considering the rifle
was completely new to him.
After
breakfast, Abby began to pack her stuff for a 2-3 day adventure and she paid
close attention to what he considered essential gear. They worked well together
and she was more than happy to saddle the horses and set off.
She led him to
one of her favorite ambush locations that she didn't use often but it yielded
consistent kills for her. Traffic was generally light with small groups of 2-3
soldiers that she could handle herself using her two rifles. More often than
not she'd kill a couple redcoats then the third would hide in the ditch or run
into the trees where she'd take him at her convenience. She'd never let one
escape yet and hoped not to. She didn't want her sex or identity made known to
the officers in command.
When they were
getting close to the road she slid off her horse and Alec followed her lead.
She tied her mount to a tree about 50 yards from the road and motioned him to
do the same.
"It seems
we're hunting for a little more than deer or turkey today," he whispered
in her ear.
"I'm up
for it if you are, but we don't have to," she replied quietly.
He grinned
happily and threw an arm around her shoulder.
"You're
damn right. I have a score to settle with those bastards."
"Let me
tell you how I set up an ambush and you can tell me what you think."
She knelt down
and he watched her deft hands pluck a twig and draw a rough diagram of her
intentions in the dirt. He was impressed by how aware she was of their
immediate surroundings and the thoroughness of her escape plan if things went
wrong. Her greatest fear was being captured and she always erred on the side of
caution when she could. Her rescue of him was her most dangerous combat action
to date and she had no intention of repeating that level of risk any time soon.
She assigned
him the responsibility of shooting the first redcoat, and she'd take the second
and third if there were three in a group. She watched him while she gave him
orders and didn't detect a hint of hesitation or superiority from his sharp
grey eyes. She was more than pleased with him so far and gave him a quick kiss
as a reward.
She put their
plan in action by motioning him forward. She approached the road carefully
taking nearly 30 minutes to move just 40 yards closer. She kept her head on a
swivel and her sharp eyes swept the area constantly for danger. One time she'd
sashayed up to a road while full of confidence and nearly tripped over a
redcoat who had dropped his trousers and squatted to relieve himself in the
trees. He'd fallen over in surprise and was scrambling for his rifle when she
recovered herself quickly and spitted him through the heart with her rapier.
It'd been a close thing and a lesson hard learned for her.
She got them
settled in and they stayed silent for nearly two hours, waiting for a potential
target. Her ears perked up when she heard a faint nickering of a horse. Her
ambush location allowed a view of nearly 100 yards in both directions which
allowed her to ensure there weren't two parties approaching her at once, which
would definitely be a high risk situation, one that would have her hightailing
out of there in no time.
Soon enough,
two redcoats made an appearance to their left. Both were mounted and cradling
their muskets in their arms. Abby got as low as she could in a prone position
and Alec followed suit right beside her.
They waited
until the soldiers were a mere 20 yards away when Abby breathed, "Now."
Thunder rolled
and smoke filled the air. Abby scrambled to her feet and ran out of the smoke
while drawing her sword. She quickly saw there was no need for it as both men
were on the ground. Alec was immediately at her side and caught up the reins of
the two redcoat mounts. She glanced at Alec's victim to see a bloody hole
between his surprised, staring eyes.
"Well
done, sweetheart," she said in an approving tone. He watched her in
admiration when she knelt at each body and quickly searched them for valuables
and any documents they might be carrying. It was obvious she'd done this many
times, and it fascinated him. She found several silver coins and a few maps
that were in a leather wrapped cylinder. One man had a beautiful dagger that
she liberated, then handed it to Alec with a happy smile.
"What do
we do with the horses?" he asked.
She noticed he
was admiring the larger of the two, one that he seemed to be enamored with.
"We'll
take that one with us if you'd like. I'd say you earned him today," she
said lightly, then sobered up quickly.
"We need
to get out of here soon. Help me drag these bastards off the road."
She pulled a
small rope from her possibles bag, then wrapped one end around the saddle horn
of Alec's new mount and the other end around a dead soldier's ankles. She
dragged him several yards in the trees then repeated her actions with the
second man. It only took a few minutes from the crack of the first shot until
the hunters faded back from the road, a bit more than it usually took but she
was satisfied.
A few minutes
later she stopped Alec and told him her intentions. His eyes widened and before
he could protest she chopped the throat from the fourth horse with her razor
sharp dagger. He reared up, splattering her face and chest with hot blood while
she held his reins tightly until he gushed his life out on the forest floor and
fell over dead.
She smiled
happily at Alec with a blood smeared face and soaked bosom, only to see him
looking at her in surprise. She was truly in her element and he was shocked to
his military core. She could take a life easier than anyone he'd ever known and
seemed to revel in it. For some reason it seemed especially bad that it was a
horse she'd killed so casually, and he wondered why that was so. The redcoats
they'd killed on the road hadn't affected him at all. She saw him wrestling
with his emotions and quickly explained her actions.
"We can't
support any more livestock, especially with our new cattle, and I refuse to set
this thing free and have another soldier use him in the war."
"But, it
was a fine horse! We could've used him!" he lamented.
Dallying for so
long near the road was irritating her, so without a word, she mounted up and
nudged her horse forward while leading his new one. Alec followed her quietly
and voiced no further protest, all the while wondering what kind of woman he'd
fallen in love with.
That evening
they camped deep in the forest near one of her favorite places. There was a
quiet stream that fed a small lake containing lots of fish, and in no time she
had a few flopping on the bank thanks to her proficient fishing skills. Alec
shook his head in wonder at her skills and gutted them as fast as she could
catch them. She was grinning happily and chatting with him like nothing had
happened that day which caused him a bit of angst.
He was used to
formations and marching, a regimented life with rules and regulations while she
si
1 hr 6 min
July 07 Daughter of the Revolution: Part 2
Daughter
of the Revolution: Part 2
Abby rescues a
Continental soldier.
In 15 parts,
based on a post by Seethegood. Listen
to the ► Podcast at Connected.

Just before
dawn when the sun was trying to rise, her new companion awoke, retching and
coughing beneath his hood. Shit! She'd forgotten about that in her hurry to
leave! She quickly ripped the hood off and turned his head so he wouldn't choke
to death on his vomit. She poured water from her canteen over his face and
wiped him clean while he coughed and gagged until his breathing returned to
normal. He turned his head to face her and she felt as if she'd been struck by
lightning. Piercing grey eyes met her beautiful blue ones as she took in his
beaten and bruised countenance. She'd never seen a more handsome man in her
life! She couldn't stop her hand from brushing his dark curls from his face and
she felt an overwhelming desire to kiss him.
"Hello,
Angel," he said in a parched voice. "Water, please," he croaked.
She quickly put a small hand under his head and raised him to drink. He drank
deeply until she pulled away.
"Easy
there. Not too much or you'll get sick again." He sighed and she laid his
head back. She didn't know what to say to him, she was absolutely tongue tied,
even covered in filth and vomit he stole the heart from her chest.
"What's
your name, Angel?" he managed as he lay with his eyes closed.
"Abigail,
my friends call me Abby," she stuttered awkwardly.
"I'm
Alexander, my friends call me Alec. As my rescuer, you may call me anything you
like," he quipped with a wry smile.
"I shall
think on it, for now I shall call you Heavy, because you were extremely
difficult to drag here," she said merrily, finally finding her voice. He
groaned and painfully shifted his bulk.
"My arms
are killing me, laying on them for so long is hard to do," he said
painfully.
"I'm so
sorry, we had to leave quickly and get away from the road. I haven't had time
to attend to you," she apologized.
"Don't
worry yourself. I'm just thankful my guardian angel rescued me," he said
softly while looking up at her. She felt herself falling into his gorgeous eyes,
then caught herself. She busied her hands by freeing him from the travois and
sitting him up. His arms and hands were blue from bad circulation and his
wrists torn and bloodied from the manacles. His thigh was caked with dried
blood from his stab wound but appeared to have stopped bleeding. Bravely, she
straddled his legs and sat in his lap to attend to his face. She swabbed it
with a wet rag and gave him more to drink.
She noticed his
eyes wandering down to her cleavage and she felt a trickle of desire, knowing
that he was finding her attractive. When he was as clean as she could get him,
she fed him some hardtack and dried meat along with plenty of water.
"I'm
sorry, I have nothing to remove your manacles. If I can take you to my camp I
have a hammer and chisel and I can get those things off of you," she
volunteered.
"That
would be wonderful, is it far from here?"
"If you
can ride, a day. If I drag you, a couple days."
"I'll
ride. Bouncing along on those boards was horrible."
"Can you
try now? We really should be going. I apologize but it'll be a rough go for
you," she said gently.
"Abby,
doing anything with you will be far more pleasant than my former
situation."
She smiled to
herself. She was really growing to like him. It was her first compliment from a
man other than her father and she liked it.
After a minor
battle of strength, she got him to his feet and next to her horse. He'd just
lodged his foot in a stirrup when he paused.
"Um, Abby?
It appears I must relieve myself. All that water has run right through
me."
She looked at
him and waited, then realized he couldn't help himself with his arms manacled
behind him.
"I'm
sorry, Angel. I need your help," he said while blushing deeply.
"Um,
okay. Do you mind?"
"Of
course. Please hurry though."
She crouched
down and undid his belt and buttons. Recalling how she'd washed her Uncle when
he was wounded, she bravely reached in to pull his cock out. She and Alec both
gasped when her small hand met hot flesh. She took hold of him, shocked that
her fingers didn't even come close to spanning his width. She slowly dragged
him free and pointed his cock at the ground. With a ragged groan he cut loose
with a mighty stream of urine that spattered in the dirt. She looked down and
marveled at the sight of his huge member in her tiny fist. Glancing up at him
she noticed his brilliant eyes were locked on her little hand wrapped around
him. She felt a bit of jealousy because this hose can be pointed at will, and
she imagined fun games she would play, targeting ants and other bugs with a
fine hose like his. “Damn! All I get to do is squat and try to limit the
splatter on my feet.” Then she realized he hear her say that, aloud. She felt
her own face flame hot and he groaned again as his stream slowed to a stop.
"Done.
Thank you, my Angel," he said softly, meeting her eye. "Your first
time?" he asked with a mischievous wink. She giggled out loud.
"Indeed.
Did I do good?"
"Yes, but
you're not quite done. You must always do the shake."
"The
shake?"
"The
shake. One must always shake before putting oneself away," he said,
fighting an embarrassed grin.
While he spoke,
she became aware that he was growing quickly in her hand. Alarmed, she looked
down to see him rising and lengthening in her fingers. She gently wriggled his
cock and raised a curious eyebrow when a drop of urine fell to the ground.
"See?
Always shake," he laughed. Her face red as a beet, she awkwardly stuffed
his formidable cock back in his trousers and then hastily buttoned him up.
"I'm
sorry, Angel. I tease to cover my own embarrassment. It was my first time as
well."
"That's
okay," she murmured. "We may as well get used to it. We've a long
ride home."
She fought and
struggled to get him on her mount, eventually using her strong hands to cup his
firm ass and boost him up. A job she thoroughly enjoyed because she didn't have
to look at his handsome face and become even more embarrassed. She marveled at
how his strong muscles rippled under his uniform trousers. When he was seated,
she nimbly hopped up behind him and nudged her horse forward to begin the
difficult journey home.
She was sorry
his hands were shackled but she loved how they felt brushing against her flat
tummy as they rode. Her arms surrounded his lean waist as she guided their
mount through the forest and her thoughts were heated when she imagined what he
would look like, naked and making love to her. She shifted uncomfortably as her
pussy soaked her undergarments while she fantasized about her new companion.
Suddenly, he
shivered and swayed in the saddle and she instinctively tightened her arms
around him.
"Alec?
Alec?" She cried in alarm.
"I'm
okay, I think, just cold," he moaned.
She rapidly
felt his forehead. He was burning with fever! She gripped him closer and
increased their pace. If she couldn't get him home before he passed out they'd
be in real trouble! Throwing caution to the wind, she took a direct route to
the closest road and then went as fast as she could while managing to keep him
upright. It seemed like an eternity but she finally saw a whisper of smoke from
their cabin chimney and as they drew near she shouted for Rose and June.
As it happened
to be Sunday, the two beauties that ran from the cabin were freshly bathed and
wearing dresses. Without a word they tried to catch Alec when he fell but his
big body knocked them to the ground.
"He's
burning up!" Abby cried. "Let's get him inside."
The three women
tugged and pulled until they got him on the cabin floor. Abby quickly took
charge.
"We need
to strip him and cool him down. June, get some cold water from the creek. Rose,
help me cut his clothing away."
Scraps of his
uniform fell to the floor while June trickled cold water over his burning body.
Abby ran for a small anvil along with a hammer and chisel. When they rolled him
to his side get to his manacles the three gasped in horror. His back had been
brutally whipped. Flayed skin hung in tattered strips and his wounds were
seeping blood and other body fluids. Abby's eyes filled with hot tears when she
realized how rudely she'd manhandled him to get him home and he hadn't
complained for a minute, even when she'd been sneakily rubbing her breasts on
his broad back during their journey.
She quickly
struck his shackles off, then they nearly exhausted themselves getting his bulk
up on the bed. While they cleaned and bandaged his many wounds he woke up for a
short while and they managed to get more water in him before he passed out
again. June and Rose began washing his tall frame while Abby went to tend her
horse and stow her gear. When she returned the two women were whispering about
their new companion.
"Can we
keep him?" Rose asked, not so innocently.
"We must
tend him back to health, it could take quite a while!" June exclaimed
somewhat excitedly. Abby smiled tiredly at the two.
"Well,
that answers my question as to if we'll welcome him in our camp," she
said.
"Well of
course!" Rose and June said together. They ran their damp cloths over his
lean body, using their other hands to stroke and caress him while Abby watched
in some jealousy.
"June, can
you please start dinner?" Abby asked politely. Both June and Rose picked
up on Abby's tone of voice and noted that her gaze hadn't left Alec's limp
frame. With a knowing glance at each other they communicated that Alec belonged
to Abby, at least for now.
Abby caught the
look and tempered herself.
"Rose, can
you help me finish getting him comfortable?"
The two cleaned
him thoroughly while Abby related the story of the previous two days. When it
came to cleaning his groin, Abby firmly took over and gently wiped his thick
cock down, then lifted his heavy sack to clean between his cheeks. Rose watched
enviously, wishing it were her babying him. He soon grew longer in Abby's small
hand and she petted him gently, torn by concern for his wounds and the rapidly
building wetness between her thighs.
"Abby,"
Rose whispered in awe. "He's more than two hands width long and your
fingers don't come close to reaching around it. He's bigger than old Isaac!
Certainly when he's fully hard he'll be a beast!"
"Hush,
Rose! He'll hear you!" Abby whispered, then giggled aloud.
"I had to
hold him while he peed on the ground. It was so embarrassing but terribly fun
as well!"
"No! Oh,
you lucky girl!" Rose enthused.
While the two
whispered together and finished up, June served a hot supper of venison stew
and rice. The wonderful odor seemed to bring Alec around and Abby managed to
sit him up to feed him a few bites. For the first time he acknowledged that he
was surrounded by beautiful women and he was more than embarrassed. Abby had
noticed and covered him with a sheet up to his waist. He politely introduced
himself to Rose and June and they colored a deep red, giggling behind their
hands. He had no idea of the effect he was having on the sex starved females.
As the warm food hit his belly he swiftly grew drowsy and struggled to keep his
eyes open so Abby slid him down to his back and lay next to him. He sighed
deeply and fell into a deep sleep. Rose and June started cleaning the dinner
utensils and before they were done, both Abby and Alec were snoring gently.
June looked at
the couple wistfully. "They look so beautiful together," she
whispered to Rose, who kissed her gently. "We can only be happy for Abby.
She positively glows when she looks at him."
The two girls
banked the fire, blew out candles, and followed the couple to sleep.
Abby and Alec
are intimate while the girls plot a threesome.
Chapter 4
Abby awoke in
the night to a strange sensation. Alec had rolled to his side and his breath
was stirring her hair. She gently touched his forehead to find that he was
still warm but his fever seemed to be abating. She was getting warm herself so
she carefully got up without disturbing him and removed her clothes. She slid
back in beside him and laying on her side, nestled his head between her naked
breasts. She shivered when his warm breath tightened her nipples and gave her
goosebumps on her firm tits. He groaned and snuggled in closer while she smiled
happily to herself, then she slowly drifted off to sleep.
In the wee
hours of the morning Alec moaned loudly, waking Abby from a deep sleep. He was
laying on his back and soaked in sweat. Hurriedly, she flipped the sheet off to
cool him and in the predawn light saw an amazing sight. His arms were stiff at
his sides and he was thrusting his hips in the air repeatedly while calling out
her name. She gasped when she saw his pulsating cock. It was hard as steel and
easily 10 inches long, thicker than her wrist and topped with a swollen head
that defied belief.
Rose awoke from
his calls and tumbled out of bed to hurry to his side.
"Help him,
Abby, before he hurts himself!" she whispered fiercely. His face was a
rictus of passion and his eyes were tightly shut as he writhed, locked in a
fever dream of lust.
"How,
Rose? How do I do it?" Abby begged her.
Rose took his
thick shaft in her small hand and worked his length skillfully. He groaned
louder and rammed his hips high, straining upwards while his face grew red and he
held his breath while he reached for his orgasm.
"He's
close, Abby. Here!" Rose released him and put Abby's hands on him.
Awkwardly, she knelt and stroked him rapidly and his breath exploded from his
lungs as he released massive gouts of hot cum that spattered him from rigid abs
to collarbone. Abby cried out in surprise at the fountain of cum that sprang
from his cock. He heaved and twisted while she hung on for dear life. Her tight
fists stroked him from his large balls to his hugely swollen head, and Rose
exclaimed in wonder when he bathed himself in ropes of cum that seemed to never
end.
"My word,
what an absolute cannon!" Rose whispered in a hoarse voice as his hips
slowly lowered to the bed and his arms relaxed at his sides.
"Oh
Abby," he groaned in delirium.
"Hush now,
sweet Alec," she whispered, while stroking his still swollen cock in hands
slick with cum. While his breathing calmed, Rose volunteered some advice.
"He's had
what they call a wet dream. It happens to a man if he hasn't came for a long
time. It wa
1 hr 5 min
July 06 Daughter of the Revolution: Part 1
Daughter
of the Revolution: Part 1
Abby prepares
for war.
In 24 parts,
based on a post by Seethegood. Listen
to the ► Podcast at Connected.

Chapter 1
The sound of
ringing steel echoed through the barn along with the gasping of two people
laboring for breath. Abigail Durham and her father George sparred with their
practice swords, sweating and panting as they danced and dodged each others
thrusts. George cried out in surprise when his 18 year old daughter parried his
stroke and tapped his forearm with her blade.
"I've
finally marked you, Father!" she cried in victory and he smiled at her
sheepishly. He was so proud of his beautiful protégée. Abby was his only child
and she was the light of his life. Her mother had died three years ago of
consumption and he still mourned her daily. Abby had always been a sort of
tomboy and eagerly took to learning marksmanship as well as swordsmanship, of
which she excelled like no other person he knew except himself. An exceedingly
rare thing in the late 1700's for a woman to be interested in to be sure, but
he paid it no mind. Since she could walk he'd taken her on hunts with him,
along with long trips on the road to visit cities scattered through the colony
of Virginia as he conducted his business of growing and marketing tobacco.
The
Revolutionary War was closing in on them rapidly and being a man of action and
quite well educated, he predicted a long and bloody road in their future. Since
his wife had died he'd poured his heart and soul into preparing for the rough
days ahead. With Abby's assistance he'd scouted out several small limestone
caves within several miles of their plantation and staged provisions in case
they were forced to abandon their home and hearth, in Blenheim, which was the
heart of central Virginia. The Monticello plantation of Thomas Jefferson was
just a day’s ride to the east, But Jefferson had fled to Paris to serve as the
U S Ambassador and seek help from the French to assist the Continental Army.

Chief among
their treasured items was gunpowder, bullets for their firearms, and foodstuffs
such as beans, rice, and smoke preserved meats. They also had clothing,
bedding, and various tools they may need for the future scattered throughout their
various caches. He'd even gone so far as to draw up detailed maps and demanded
Abby commit the locations to memory.
Just before his
wife had died, his brother William had moved in with them to help out with the
plantation. George saw it as a gift because William's wife, Rose, was quite a
bit younger than him and closer to Abby's age than his own. In fact she'd been
21 years old to Abby's 15 at the time. She was quite instrumental in raising
Abby into a promising young lady over the last three years. As a result, Abby
could be right at home with the highest of the local society, not giving the
least impression that she could outshoot and out sword fight any man she might
happen upon.
The rumble of
far off cannon fire seemed to draw closer every day, increasing George's
anxiety for the safety of his family and his beloved workers who labored in his
fields. He had learned a great deal of compassion from his wife and as a result
treated his slaves far better than most owners. His plantation home was small and
modest by the day's standards, simply because he chose to invest in decent
housing for his slaves. In fact, the slave cabins were nicer by far than most
white folk's homes in the area, garnering some jealousy to say the least. The
title "Master" was forbidden to be spoken. He was simply "Mister
Durham" to his workers while Abby was referred to as "Missy" and
she was beloved by them all.
"Can we go
another round?" Abby asked happily, pleased that she'd scored a hit on her
father.
"I'd love
to dear, but I think I it's nearly dinner time. Go get cleaned up and we'll
meet in the dining room."
"Yes,
Papa." She kissed him sweetly on his cheek and set off for the house while
he watched her departing figure with a worried frown. He wasn't normally a man
to harp on his feelings, but deep in his gut he knew bad things were on the not
so distant horizon. When Abby reached the house, her quadroon maid, June, had a
tub of hot water ready for her.
"Have you
been fighting with your Pappy again?" June asked teasingly.
"Yes, we
were sparring a bit and I scored a hit on him, my first one!" Abby said
excitedly. June clapped her hands joyfully.
"Well
done, Missy! I'm sure your Pappy is mighty proud of you. Now strip down little
lady and let me scrub you up nice and clean."
Obediently,
Abby complied, dropping her trousers and blouse into a heap while June shook
her head in disapproval.
"I'll
never know why your Pappy lets you dress like that. You should be all dolled up
in a pretty dress and making eyes at the local boys out there!" June said
in a stern voice, but Abby saw a twinkle in her gaze and she smiled
mischievously.
"I can't
ride, shoot, and sword fight with a dress on June, you know that, silly
lady!"
She lowered
herself in the tub, hissing as the hot water burned her little butt cheeks.
June watched with a critical eye. Her little ward was growing up quickly. Long
wavy blonde hair topped her fine head and flowed down over her pale shoulders
nearly to her waist. Her bottom had filled out and her once small breasts were
now large and firm, her tight nipples pointed proudly skyward from her small
ribcage. She was nearly five foot four inches tall and weighed about 105 pounds
soaking wet. Thanks to her relatively new friend, Rose, she'd taken to shaving
her legs and armpits, an up and coming trend among ladies and one her father
heartily agreed with. He was a firm believer in a lady being a lady, especially
when in public. His wife had been a beautiful woman whom he'd been proud to
show off on his arm for many years.
June quickly
bathed and shaved her with accomplished ease. She took care of Rose as well
most evenings, never telling Abby that Rose kept her pubic area shaved clean
for her husband. Some things must be kept private, June figured to herself.
After dinner,
the men retired to the parlor and asked the girls to join them, which was
entirely out of character Abby thought with surprise. Speaking in an
authoritative tone, George addressed them.
"War is
coming to us all, I hate to say. The British are on their way through here and
there's little we can do. Hopefully some local militias can turn the tide but I
doubt it. William and I have spoken at length about it and have come to a
decision. We will stand and fight when the time comes. We'll lose the slaves
whenever they desire. They can leave now if they like."
As if
punctuating his sentence, a roll of cannon fire sounded in the distance.
Abby started to
speak but her father raised his hand to silence her.
"There
will be no discussion. Abby and Rose, you two will head for the forests when I
command, use our caches and caves to subsist until things improve for the
better. I believe our side will win in time, but short term it will be a
terrible thing."
Abby flung
herself in his arms and tried protesting but he would have none of it. It broke
his heart to treat her so but he knew it must be done.
William drew
Rose onto his lap and comforted her as she sobbed on his shoulder. George
continued.
"Abby,
starting tomorrow you'll be ready to evacuate at a moment's notice. Keep your
squirrel rifle handy and your horse in the small barn near the tree line. You
do the same, Rose."
A couple of
years ago, the brothers had Kentucky rifles made for the girls. They were in 32
caliber and shortened both at the stock and barrel so they could handle them
more adroitly. Rose was a decent shot while Abby was absolutely deadly with
hers out to nearly 300 yards. Rose had hunted a bit with hers but never really
enjoyed it. Abby had harvested several deer and turkey and had no qualms about
filling the larder with fresh meat.
George
continued instructing his family for nearly an hour, preparing them for the
worst. Finally, he sent them off to bed while he and William had another drink
and smoked their pipes in the light of the oil lamps.
Sometime in the
night a particularly loud boom of cannon fire awoke Abby and she noticed a
faint glow in the night sky coming through her window. She wrapped herself in
her night robe and sneaked down the hallway so she could watch from the porch.
A faint cry robbed her attention and she listened attentively. It seemed to be
coming from William and Rose's room. She tiptoed to their door and noticed it
was open a crack. She peered in, and in the faint light of a guttering candle
witnessed a sight like she'd never seen or heard of.
William and
Rose were both naked atop the bed covers and his face was buried between Rose's
thighs. Her hands were twisted in his hair and she was moaning in what sounded
like pain. Abby was immediately concerned for Rose, what was he doing to her!
She was ready to rush to her defense until she heard Rose cry out his name in
rapture.
"Oh yes,
Willy! Just there, please don't stop!"
Abby was wide
eyed in amazement. Her breath hitched and she gasped aloud at her first sight
of a cock. She quickly covered her mouth, afraid the couple had heard her.
Apparently not, because they kept on with their lovemaking. He looked
intimidating down there, yet Rose seemed to enjoy what he was doing! She clasped
her hands under his bottom and urged him deeper with contented sighs.
Abby was almost
beside herself and was feeling some decidedly different emotions. She'd thought
about sex of course but had always been so busy playing at tomboy that she'd
never really dwelled on it much. Contributing to that was probably the lack of
men her age on the plantation, other than slaves of course, and they held no
interest to her other than as good friends. William drew her attention when he
spoke to Rose in a strained voice.
"How would
you like me to spend myself, dear?"
"Let me
taste you tonight, honey!" she managed to gasp out.
Abby watched
attentively. A loud gasp came from the doorway. Abby couldn't believe what she
was seeing and hearing. Rose was moaning to another satisfying orgasm.
Sensing the end
was near, Abby quietly slipped back to her room and burrowed under her covers,
her mind awash with the exciting scene she'd just witnessed. It took many hours
before her fevered mind allowed her to fall asleep.
The next day
Abby took Rose aside and asked her a few questions about sex, which aroused her
suspicion.
"I'm
pretty sure I heard you outside our door last night, that's true isn't
it?" Rose asked her with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.
"Yes, it
was me," Abby answered guiltily. "I heard you when I was up and just
had to see what you were doing."
"Did you
like what you saw?"
"At first
I thought Uncle William was hurting you! Then I heard you call his name and cup
his head in your hands and I knew you were okay."
"Oh yes, I
was fine. It feels wonderful."
Abby felt a
shiver run up her back at the thought of a man doing such a naughty thing to
her. She couldn't imagine! In the past Rose had tried to instruct her on
matters pertaining to procreation but she'd shown little interest until now.
Hearing about it in dry terms was somewhat boring, seeing it in action was
another thing entirely, she thought to herself.
" Does it
taste good? Did you like it?" she asked in curiosity.
"He did it
because I asked him to. It tasted a little salty usually, and I did like it.
It's the seed that makes little babies and if it's near the time of the month I
may get pregnant, I have him shoot in my mouth or on my breasts. He absolutely
loves doing it."
Abby pursed her
lips thoughtfully, "Do you think I'm pretty enough for a man to want me
like that?"
"Oh,
honey. You're absolutely beautiful! Any man would be proud to have you. When we
dress up and go to parties or the Christmas ball, haven't you noticed the young
gentlemen fawning over you?"
"I guess
so, over the last couple years they're always looking at my chest, it's rather
irritating when they speak to my bosom."
Rose giggled in
delight. "That's what men do when they want you. You have no idea how
gorgeous you really are, dear Abby. There's not a man alive who wouldn't roll
you in the hay!"
"Aunty
Rose, shame on you!" Abby laughed, but inside she felt the same shivery
sensation she'd experienced last night and a hint of moisture dampened her
thighs. Suddenly, a bold idea struck her. She took pride in excelling at
everything that interested her, why not sex as well?
"Will you
help me get ready to be with a man, just in case it ever happens? I don't want
to be caught unawares. Please teach me everything you know."
"I'd be
happy to, just don't tell the men, we'd get in so much trouble!" Rose
laughed gaily. "Let's talk about it while we move our horses to the barn
like your father instructed."
After they did
so Abby went searching for her father. She found him in the workshop toiling
diligently. He was packing large flower pots with blackpowder and horseshoe
nails, sealing them tightly with hot wax then replacing the flowers and soil
atop the explosive. He explained that he planned to set them next to the
benches that lined the drive near the shade trees. The slaves used them to
relax on when they took breaks from working the tobacco fields. When the
redcoats came he hoped to detonate them and cause as many casualties as
possible. Abby gazed at her father in a new light and he noticed her expression
when she realized the deviousness of his plan.
"We do
what we must, Abby. They'd rather kill us than keep us as prisoners and use up
their valuable supplies. I plan to return the favor. The bloodier we make it
for them the sooner they'll return to their country." She nodded in
understanding.
"I want to
fight with you, Father, please let me!" she begged. He looked at her
closely. He knew she would be a huge asset but he couldn't bear losing her.
Against his better judgement he chose to take a calculated risk.
"I'll let
you stay and fight until I order you to leave. At that moment, you obey me
immediately and without question. Do you understand me?" he said in his
sternest voice.
"Oh yes,
Papa!" She flew into his arms and hugged him tightly. He was glad she
couldn't see the tears gathering in his eyes.
"We start
setting up our trap today, honey. Go get Rose and you two can help me
out."
He set up
targets where each of the flower pots would be and had Abby go to the upper
story of the house and fire down on them until she was comfortable with the
range. The targets started at 300 yards out and were staged at the sitting
benches up to 100 yards from the front porch. She used both hers and Rose's
rifles, firing as fast as Rose could reload which took her as long as 45
seconds. When George was satisfied, he installed his flower pots at the
benches, then he filled buckets with caltrops he'd had the local blacksmith
make. When the British troops arrival was imminent, he'd scatter them on the
road between his home and the ambush site, in order to slow any troops that
leaked through, thereby allowing the people in the house more time to rain fire
down on their enemies.
That evening
after dinner he took Abby to the work shop and he presented her with a gift. It
was a rapier that was shorter and lighter than most, essentially made for a
small man or woman. Her hand fit the grip wonderfully and the cupped hilt would
protect her hand from a counter slash. Abby was beside herself with joy! The leather
scabbard she dre
1 hr 5 min
July 05 Vanishing Manhood: Part 21
Vanishing Manhood: Part 21
Humanity Reset.
Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand. Listen to the
► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

A List of Characters;
Israeli's Team.
Israel Jensen: (our protagonist/POV character)
Flame (Brigit; with her twelve millimeter hand cannon;
Israel is her one and only friend)
Silent (Davia; fires twin ten millimeter 'reasonable'
handguns; still wounded as of the Missouri crossing)
Angel Kristi: (Metropolitan Police Office; Seneca Poole;
partner)
Roni: (paramedic; Angel's friend)
Capri O'Hara: (once met Shiro Sano, the hotshot lawyer, sat
second chair)
Kuiko Sano: ('Epic Sex'; welder, 43 sisters and cousins
coming up)
Aniqua: (office manager, "Nothing but Raman for six
days straight!")
Venus: (home renovator)
Samantha: (equipment installation/repair)
Jethro MacFarlane: (67 year old former MRA terrorist,
former sailor, rides a motorcycle and smokes. He likes Kuiko as if she were his
daughter)
Lavender: (History Student; Rides 'Bitch' with Jethro
after the crossing)
Paisley: (Biology Student)
Aria Ripley: (smuggler and career criminal; not a killer;
joins after the crossing)

Vanishers.
Casper; (Team Leader)
Wendy; (the 'Good Witch', Intelligence Expert)
Kat Harvey; (not seen much of yet)
Scar; Senior Security Operative aka Assassin
Wes Prince, Hispanic Vanisher on the Metro
Nat; Security Operative (Spy, infiltration, diplomacy)
Truman: (Zara) (sniper and infiltration expert)
Brandi: (explosive expert and Veterinarian)
Jen: (spotter and NASA computer specialist)
Dusk; (not seen much of yet)
Luna; (not seen much of yet)
Thorn; (not seen much of yet)

The Other Men.
Barabbas Chebaya; (22 year old plumber journeyman)
Pierre Thomas; (18 year old college freshman who played 6
musical instruments)

Dimples' Crew.
Enola Treyvon: (Team Leader, called Dimples by Israel;
former Special Agent in Charge of the Man-hunting Task Force)
SA Vabishi; (linguistics specialist)
SA Fraklos; (medical specialist; field medic)
SA Cho; (East Asian heritage Agent who restrained Israel)
SA Berkshire; (African-American Agent who was nearly Tasered
by Capri)
SA Norris; (not seen much of yet)
SA Tambora; (law degree from the University of Quebec)
SA Sosa; (Computer specialist)
Former Metropolitan Officer Freya Passey; (has the Israel
cure; carries her body armor, pistol and shotgun plus baby Narfi in a
breastfeeding sling)
Narfi Passey; (Freya's second child and second son; now has
the Israel Cure; nine months old and hasn't experienced the Gender Plague yet,
or the new Plague)
Verona Hedwig 'Hedy' Salenko; (the Aurora Slasher, had
served 5 years of a 352 years sentence for murdering eight men before this
story begins)

Special Agent Winthrop; (assigned by the Acting Minister of
Justice/Attorney General to locate Israel Jensen no matter what)
Special Agent Carver; (FBI HRT specialist; turns out to be a
Vanisher operative)
Mary Wollstonecraft: Ada Lovelace (Vanisher code for
Dimples)
Shelia Montanyard; (Chief Civil Affairs Attorney for the
Federal District Attorney's Office; Upper Mississippi District; remained behind
in the city).
The Aurora Slasher Continues.
Verona put her binoculars down. She had spent twenty-nine
hellish days hunting Israel's captors down, heading ever westward, and skirting
the quarantine zones, cities and towns. She used the cover of an elite FBI
special investigator to get this far, relying on citizens' good nature when she
could, stealing when that didn't work. A good serial killer task force could
have run her to ground by now; had there been such a thing as the world died.
It was dying all right, and not soon enough to satisfy
Verona Hedwig 'Hedy' Sauvage. No, she wouldn't shed a tear for the billions
dead, or dying. They had created the germ of their destruction decades ago, and
here they were reaping what they had sown. All that mattered were herself and
her Israel; and the precious antibodies he had gifted her six-and-a-half years
ago.
That was the only reason she could give herself, as to why
she was still alive after so many close-calls and face-to-face conversations
she had had since escaping custody. If ever there was a sign their love was
eternal, this was it. All she had to do was rescue Israel and, once he was
safe, come back and eliminate all those who had stolen that immunity for
themselves.
Stage Four; the first three stages had carried her this far;
was then before her. She had to penetrate the compound, where he was being
held, and rescue him. At first, she had hoped the 'training' assignments he
went on were a clear opportunity to eliminate his sole guardian and escape into
the Yellowstone National Forest, but that guardian; always the same woman;
appeared to have some sort of supernatural sense when it came to being
observed.
That, and her gear was clearly that of a sniper; not someone
she wanted to try hunting in the great wide-open expanses around the ranch
complex. No, the better plan had her sneaking into the complex at night; perhaps
two hours before dawn when the sentries were at their least effectiveness. That
required her to know which room in the dwelling he was being kept in.
It would be safest for his captors to keep him in the
basement, but between the trauma inflicted upon him during the police raid,
which had removed him from her custody, and the desire to make Israel believe
he was 'free', that was unlikely. The second-floor rooms were then the best bet
to detain him. Since there appeared to be seven bedrooms upstairs; she couldn't
eliminate the possibility they would keep him in the master bedroom because
that would increase his accessibility for the whores keeping him.
Poor Israel wouldn't even be checking to see if his door was
locked; from the outside, either. The risk was huge, but she needed to find
various blinds to scout out the house from. Over the intervening nights, she
would have to watch to see which rooms went dark at what times. Consistent
'lights out' could be eliminated as possibilities until she had the most likely
room to approach first.
Then it would be all knife and baton work. She didn't have
an effective sound suppressor for her firearms; the two pistols, a shotgun and
a hunting rifle she had acquired on her long journey here. The thing was, the
Federation government still thought Israel was in the area as well; just on the
wrong side of their crumbling quarantine lines.
At any moment the JCS (Joint Chiefs of Staff), or even a
local regional commander could decide to stop trying to save everything and the
necessity of saving what they could by sending an airmobile unit, or Special
Forces detachment, out here to settle the matter. The clock was ticking and she
knew she was running out of time. All that in mind, her genius intellect was
feverishly going over all her dwindling options, and the time to act was fast
approaching.
Living Rent-free in Singh’s head.
"I swear by the fucking Goddess," FBI Special
Agent in Charge (SAC) Singh griped, "Jensen is somewhere in the Cody area
and everyone, except us, knows precisely where that is."
"Well, we are tracking zero cases of the plague here in
the past 72 hours," DIA Special Agent Greene nodded. She was the team's
medical specialist.
"I've interviewed over twenty of these plague
'survivors' and to a one, they claim to have no idea why they are still alive when
elsewhere across the Federation, people are continuing to drop like
flies," DIA Special Agent Connors shook her head. "I think this all
traces back to the head of the hospital/clinic here. She knows precisely what
they are being injected with and that has to be the 'Israel Cure'."
"Other options?" DIA SAC Fitzhugh sipped her
coffee, while looking over their combined team.
"They might have had a few previously inoculated
patients passing the cure on, but not this many. Worse, we nabbed two Shoshoni
women leaving the veterinarian's office with the same song and dance, 'not
here because of the plague' yet couldn't provide identical symptoms when
interviewed separately," Greene pointed out.
"The thing was, they rode the whole way to Cody from
the Wind River Reservation; on horseback; a good two days' travel. They had to
know something," Green pointed out.
"So we have women as far away as the reservation
knowing the damn secret," Singh growled. "Talk about a total lack of
patriotism."
"What can we bribe them with?" FBI SA Brisbane
sighed.
"The locals have the gift of life itself, and they know
we will be taking Jensen away once we locate him. That decreases the chances of
the overall community surviving this pandemic," Connors shook her head.
"Let's go over the basic data again; a combined total
population of three thousand, three hundred and eighty-four adult women, two
hundred and ninety-seven adult males with five hundred and ninety-four
sub-adult girls and twenty-five sub-adult boys. This burgh is slowly dying out
anyway, right?" Singh pointed out.
Everyone reluctantly nodded.
"Then explain to me why all the pregnancy tests just
flew off the shelves. The pharmacist explained they had a problem reordering
their stocks so are 'temporarily out," Singh grinned.
"What?" scoffed Greene. "They are expecting
an Amazon order in at any moment? My question is, who is expecting to have a
ton of kids soon? To the point they would preemptively get pregnancy test
kits?"
"Well, pharmacies have cameras," Singh grinned.
"Let's go see who is buying all those tests then. Let's go see who we need
to talk to next."
Deep Search.
Maria had spent that first cold night at the tail end of the
battlefield, hunkered down with three of her people; at first, carefully moving
toward Eagle Pass, but then retiring from it as they could all see the activity
in the area. A good number of people with trucks; lights on; scouring the area
for survivors. Some, they summarily executed, while others were rounded up and
taken westward.
Only later was she able to determine the 'winners' were the
90th Security Forces Group, heavily reinforced by a Ranger battalion, and the
Cody 'Militia'. Come dawn, the 90th had returned to its home base to rearm,
resupply and reorganize. They had taken severe losses in the firefight. Over
the next two days, they had removed from custody most of the prisoners, leaving
behind only those deemed too wounded to move (yet not so badly wounded they had
been 'put out of their misery' the night after the fight).
In reality, the 90th was back down at Warren Air Force Base
near Cheyenne, Middle Rocky Mountains Province, the opposite side of what had
once been the old state of Wyoming. That meant they were four hours away by air,
double that by road. Besides, by the time the 90th returned to base, Denver,
the provincial capital, had taken over the hunt for Jensen.
By that time, they had linked up with the She-Wolf, six
surviving mercenaries and that Bethany character. Everyone else was dead, or
had fled off into the wilderness as the battle raged. Even their one male had
bought the farm, ripped to shreds by the Gatling gunfire from one of the attack
aircraft. The race to catch Jensen was down to these twelve; eleven really, as
Maria knew Bethany wasn't worth a damn.
Until they were sitting around an abandoned home a week
later, eating the last of their salvaged rations, and trying to figure out what
to do next.
"The best clue we have was the fact they went to the
Rapid City Casino, because they had the inside track," Maria was musing;
not really seeking anyone's input. "That Sano-girl."
"Their rides won't traverse the Rockies without a
recharge," the She-Wolf decided to speak up anyway. "The Yellowstone
has to have been shut down, so no one inside that, or the other National
Forests; “
"Well, I once heard Francesca say she had some family
near Yellowstone," Bethany contributed.
Suddenly everyone was staring at her.
"Where exactly?" Maria stood up menacingly.
"I don't know. She was a civil servant, so I rarely
paid attention to her," Bethany squeaked.
"I would work real hard on recalling every single bit
of that conversation," the She-Wolf spoke in a low, threatening tone.
"Um; they had horses and cattle; I think; and it was
near a river because she talked about fishing there; " Bethany stumbled
along.
"A ranch; so not directly in town," the She-Wolf
began pacing. "Fuck it all. This is cow country; “
"But it has to be somewhere around Cody. They need to
recharge," Maria reasoned.
With that; the race was on. The first thing the She-Wolf did
was finish repairing their communications array, so she could contact her
employer. Contacting earlier, when they had no leads, was a surefire way to get
written off. Then though; they needed a satellite to be tasked to looking over
the Cody area and an airdrop of supplies. Considering what a mess the invasion
had left the intervening Federation territory, that wasn't a pipe dream.
Maria really thought about murdering her right then, except
her troopers were on the ball and looking rather hostile at their criminal
'allies'. Instead of worrying about her lack of utility, she began calling
every single remaining source she had west of the Yellowstone, no matter how
small time, or fragile the connection. If Jensen and company had appeared out
of the Yellowstone, then she would locate them.
And if they didn't, they had that small geographic area to
concentrate on. As for why the mercs weren't ending the criminals right then
and there; they would all need rides if they were going to go over all that
terrain. That meant, breaking into places, murdering civilians and stealing
their vehicles; most likely time and time again. For that, they would need
hardened criminals, or so the thinking went.
"I did a good thing, didn't I?" Bethany approached
the She-Wolf, once the call to Dr. Delilah Fremont had ended.
The She-Wolf had to think about that for a few seconds. She
really, really wanted to off the annoying snit of a package, but decided
against it. Dr. Fremont might not appreciate the necessity of the sanction;
being her daughter and all.
"Yeah. Keep thinking about things you might have
learned from this Francesca-person, and we'll keep thinking of reasons to keep
you alive."
"Oh," Bethany said, in a small voice. In all
honesty, she was terrified. Her survival depended on the sufferance of a bona
fide sociopath and her mother's pet killer.
Suddenly, she wondered if this was what Israel felt like,
trapped in that awful basement, at the mercy of that creepy serial killer. That
he might have felt that way, at the mercy of her sorority sisters, never
occurred to her, though. After all, her sisters hadn't meant him any harm, had
they? Certainly, he understood that; right?
The Twilight's Last Hope Before The Dawn.
It had been another sweltering day, yet everyone was in good
spirits. Wilma's daughters, Rose and Constance, kept teasing us about their
upcoming birthday and their promised 'true' inoculations. They already had
taken a shot with my antibodies in it, because their Girl Scout troop was
tasked with traveling, on horseback, to outlying farms, and ranches, to make
sure the residents were okay.
Due to that activity, we had surreptitiously inoculated
every Girl Scout and their pugnacious leader, Miss Lisa Shaw, too. The
veterinarian had created some excuse about the shots being meant to ramp up
their immune systems, so they were less likely to get the plague. Since none of
them had gotten sick, the girls accepted the deception at face value. No one
knew what Miss Shaw thought about it all.
All she did know was her troop had volunteered for a
dangerous duty, had received the shots, and none of them had shown a single
symptom of the plague, even when other members of their household had gotten
sick (and thus gotten a shot, as well). Likewise, the plague had swept through
Greybull, a nearby community of roughly eight hundred down Highway 14 East, and
that burgh was quickly becoming another ghost town.
By the time Cody's leadership and medical specialists got a
convoy together to render aid, nearly four hundred had perished. The rest were
being encouraged to move to Cody, where they could better manage their combined
dwindling resources. Roughly half the population had stayed behind to take care
of their cattle and horse herds, but they knew better than to ask just how Cody
was doing so well. They, suddenly, had a new lease on life, after all.
There had become this normal morning ritual on the
Silverhorn Ranch. After breakfast, the two newest women I had slept with the
previous day and night, gave up a pint of their blood which then made the
journey in Wilma's pick-up truck to the hospital. There the pints were smuggled
into the hospital's lab where they separated the antibodies out and
refrigerated them for that day's distribution. Those two pints equaled about a
hundred inoculations.
The ladies who had given up a pint, then went on to perform
a half day's light labor; so not a bad deal all around for them. By dawn, I had
geared up my mount and crossed over the river for my daily training period with
Zara. Only Casper's Vanishers remained eternally vigilant. Otherwise, you
pitched in, even Dimple's former FBI team.
Roni had taken to training Paisley in the profession of
being a paramedic so, along with Brandi the Vanisher, we had all our medical
needs covered. Jethro, once he had his still built, took to the rancher's life
with the same gusto he approached every other challenge his long life had
thrown his way. Normally, that included watching over Pierre in the mornings
when that young man was doing his farmhouse chores.
Mind you, Jethro still walked around as if he expected the
ranch house to be attacked with barely a moment's notice; guns a plenty, plus
body armor. He even carried this huge fucking Bowie knife with him at all
times. Angel, Kuiko and Aniqua were created as their own work team. Normally,
that meant moving wheat-grass to the herds in the morning, and gathering up
their dung; for the ranch's compost; during the afternoons. Compost would be
'sold' to the valley's farmers.
Lavender had taken a few electronics and communication's
classes during her high school years (and hated it, thus her desire to be a
high school teacher, instead), so seconded one of the ranch hands checking up
on all the ranch's Wi-Fi, and land-line, communications. We all figured she was
still a decade off from realizing her dreams of teaching the young.
Samantha and Venus had taken to re-vitalizing the ranch
hands' dormitory with all sorts of things including new beds, appliances and,
with Barabbas' help, new shower stalls and bathrooms. Capri, who had never done
all that well at math, was tasked by Wilma herself to take over all the ranch's
books, thus making her our semi-official accountant. On the plus side, she got
to go over the region's tax codes, which was a type of law she had always done
passably at.
Dimples and her team were responsible for designing and
constructing the additions to the ranch house, as well as two new dormitories
for the mass of newcomers I had brought with me. They shanghaied Aria Ripley,
the daughter and sister of the smuggler duo, who had smuggled us across the
Missouri. She was at loose ends, and the majority of her skill sets were
criminal in nature.
Lastly, there were our wounded. Davia (aka Silent, though
she didn't much like me calling her that, or so Flame cautioned me) was
recovering quickly, and had made it clear she was going to be a guardian, like
Flame, watching out for not-looked-for guests. Casper, Wendy, and Wilma really
didn't like that, but I intervened to remind everyone those two had fought
their way through a police/military cordon to escape the city, so that was
enough of a reference to their combat efficiency.
Golden Clues.
To aid in the ranch's financial well-being, the Vanishers
had brought in some gold coins to buoy our accounts; not enough to crash
1 hr 3 min
July 04 Vanishing Manhood: Part 20
Vanishing Manhood: Part 20
Long race to Cody, Wyoming.
Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand. Listen to the
► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

A list of characters;
Israeli's Team [12+2]
Israel Jensen (our protagonist character)
Flame (Brigit O’Connor; with her twelve millimeter hand
cannon; Israel is her one and only friend)
Silent (Davia Afrah Qanyare; fires twin ten millimeter
'reasonable' handguns; still wounded as of the Missouri crossing)
Angel Kristi (Metropolitan Police Office; Seneca Poole;
partner)
Roni (paramedic; Angel's friend)
Capri O'Hara (once met Shiro Sano, the hotshot lawyer, sat
second chair)
Kuiko Sano ('Epic Sex'; welder, 43 sisters and cousins
coming up)
Aniqua (office manager, "Nothing but Raman for six
days straight!")
Venus (home renovator)
Samantha (equipment installation/repair)
Jethro MacFarlane: (67 year old former MRA terrorist,
former sailor, rides a motorcycle and smokes. He likes Kuiko as if she were his
daughter)
Lavender (History Student; Rides 'Bitch' with Jethro
after the crossing)
Paisley (Biology Student)
Aria Ripley (smuggler and career criminal; not a killer;
joins after the crossing)

Vanishers [12]
Casper; (Team Leader)
Wendy; (the 'Good Witch', Intelligence Expert)
Kat Harvey; (not seen much of yet)
Scar; Senior Security Operative aka Assassin
Wes Prince, Hispanic Vanisher on the Metro
Nat; Security Operative (Spy, infiltration, diplomacy)
Truman (Zara) (sniper and infiltration expert)
Brandi (explosive expert and Veterinarian)
Jen (spotter and NASA computer specialist)
Dusk; (not seen much of yet)
Luna; (not seen much of yet)
Thorn; (not seen much of yet)

The Other Men [2]
Barabbas Chebaya; (22 year old plumber journeyman)
Pierre Thomas; (18 year old college freshman who played 6
musical instruments)

Dimples' Crew [8+2]
Enola Treyvon (Team Leader, called Dimples by Israel; former
Special Agent in Charge of the Man-hunting Task Force)
SA Vabishi; (linguistics specialist)
SA Fraklos; (medical specialist; field medic)
SA Cho; (East Asian heritage Agent who restrained Israel)
SA Berkshire; (African-American Agent who was nearly Tasered
by Capri)
SA Norris; (not seen much of yet)
SA Tambora; (law degree from the University of Quebec)
SA Sosa; (Computer specialist)
Former Metropolitan Officer Freya Passey; (has the Israel
cure; carries her body armor, pistol and shotgun plus baby Narfi in a
breastfeeding sling)
Narfi Passey; (Freya's second child and second son; now has
the Israel Cure; nine months old and hasn't experienced the Gender Plague yet,
or the new Plague)
Verona Hedwig 'Hedy' Salenko; (the Aurora Slasher, had served
5 years of a 352 years sentence for murdering eight men before this story
begins)

Special Agent Winthrop; (assigned by the Acting Minister of
Justice/Attorney General to locate Israel Jensen no matter what)
Special Agent Carver; (FBI HRT specialist; turns out to be a
Vanisher operative)
Mary Wollstonecraft => Ada Lovelace (Vanisher code for
Dimples)
Shelia Montanyard; (Chief Civil Affairs Attorney for the
Federal District Attorney's Office; Upper Mississippi District; remained behind
in the city).
The Chase gets heavy weapons.
All of that assumed we made it past Buffalo. Our saving
grace was the distance from town the airport was at; the Rangers had to have
'borrowed' some cargo-lifters from the 7th Airmobile Division on loan to the
Great Lakes Command to have gotten that far. Currently, the helicopters and
ground assets of the 7th were rushing to help hold the Missouri River
quarantine line.
Unwilling to be left out of the race to capture me, the
Great Lakes Regional Commander dispatched two platoons of Seal Team 17 (Naval
Reserves) in search-and-rescue aircraft westward. Technically, the Seals were
to support the Rangers, but they had specific private orders from the top to
seize me and bring me back to the city. The biggest problem being the S and R
(Search and Rescue) aircraft couldn't defend themselves.
The belief being that once they had me in the air, nobody
would dare shoot them down less they end all life on Earth. I didn't have that
ironclad belief in the women being reasonable, once they felt they could no
longer possess me. Not by a long-shot. I guessed my newfound faith in women
didn't reach that far.
Meanwhile, back in Texas, the CFS Marines had established a
beachhead at Galveston and seized the airport there. The military and law
enforcement had either been killed, or dispersed, but the civilian populace
remained a problem.
Sixty years, mostly without men, hadn't dampened the gun
culture in Texas all that much, as the CFS Marines were discovering. Snipers
abounded, which made expanding their perimeter difficult. Still, a fleet of
VTOL (Vertical Take Off and Landing) and STOL (Short Take Off and Landing) were
making use of the captured airport to prepare to springboard into the
Federation interior. From the way things were looking out at sea, the Marines
urged their Army and Air Force counterparts to hurry.
And all the while, doom stalked ever closer. The first
confirmed case of the plague had just been reported in San Antonio, Texas.
Three hours later, Dallas would report its first. At the same time, Phoenix,
Southwest Province, reported the same. Any hope of containing the outbreak to
the West Coast were dashed. In Seattle, the regional military commander ordered
her ground units out of the city and to be quarantined in her military installations.
By nightfall, all law and order had broken down; Metropolitan Seattle-Vancouver
was in total chaos.
Encounter At Eagle Pass
We blew through Buffalo; quite literally, with all cupola
weaponry firing away; then began our race down Central Rockies Highway 16 into
the Bighorn National Forest. We’d scrapped the previous plan to stay on
Federation 90 highway, because it goes right by the Buffalo Airport and the
attack forces who were unloading there, and would likely have the highway
blockaded. Our speeds were beyond reckless. We had to go that fast, lest they
blow a bridge ahead of us, bringing our flight to an abrupt halt. Jen, with her
satellite hook-up, kept us abreast of efforts to get in front of us.
Apparently, those in pursuit could also see how deadly our
pace was and decided they didn't want to risk me plunging into some ravine at
75 miles an hour. The one drone to make the attempt made the mistake of coming
within range of our Manpads, so Zara blew it out of the sky. The skies, in all
directions, were filled with squadrons of fighter-jets in a deadly dance of
skill and technology.
Neither the North American Federation, nor the CFS/Bolivian
Alliance, would establish air supremacy so all their drones were at risk. Both
sides were ruled by other constraints which forced them to feed aircraft into
the fight, piecemeal; thus our current airborne bloodletting. The Bolivians had
to move through the corridor they had established through Texas, while the
Federation was limited by the politics of the regional commanders and the
distance their weapons of war had to travel.
Wyoming Terrain
Even as I was viewing the desolate yet beautiful national
'forest'; it was now mostly craggy grassland; outside our window, the elite
Condor Regiment's 1st Battalion was lifting off from Galveston's somewhat
battered airport; the race was on and every factor had us colliding at an
abandoned scenic overlook called Eagle Pass, the last chokepoint before Cody,
Wyoming and the Shoshone Forest beyond.
The only problem was we weren't the only people who could
read a map, and the 90th Security Forces Group could see that the best place
for them to ambush us was at the same Eagle Pass. Why? Because the 90th didn't
have a plethora of attack helicopters and no assigned jet cover whatsoever. To
rush straight into the Bighorn National Forest was simply begging to be shot
down before they could assume a defensive position.
Essentially, we had finally been boxed in, or that would
have been had the 90th and the Condors not been on a collision course. Lest we
forget, there were the Rangers on our tail by land and air since Buffalo, and
Big M's horde of vehicles in hot pursuit since Rapid City. Jen projected a
massive amount of carnage ahead as well as behind, with us having no clear way
around Eagle Pass ourselves.
How bleak were things for us? Casper gave Barabbas, Pierre
and me; the option of using PDW (personal defense weapons) along with our
pistols, if we truly wanted to fight for our freedom. If not, she recommended
we remove our pistols as well. Pierre was balking right up until I took a PDW
and another belt with spare magazines attached. Barabbas still chose to go
weaponless.
I understood that mindset. He barely knew any of the
Vanishers and wasn't invested in their survival strategy. No matter what
happened to the rest of us, he would most likely be taken prisoner and
transported elsewhere, but at least would still be alive. Those of us foolish
enough to pick up a weapon; were simply asking to catch a bullet in a cause
which wasn't our own.
The town of Shell was a ghost town, which we burned through.
Outside of Greybull, someone's aircraft tried to blow the bridge over the
Greybull River; not realizing it had been built into a dam. Before they could
come back and rectify the situation with a massive application of high
explosives, we were over the damn dam and racing through the streets of
Greybull itself.
In Greybull, we had to navigate a dogleg of a turn north
along the junction of Highways 14 and 20. I swear to God, or Goddess, we rose up
on two wheels taking that turn, so great was our speed. Once again, there was a
critical bridge ahead of us; this one over the railroad; which they blew up.
This time, Jen navigated us down 13th Street North which took us over the rails
before the bridge and out into someone's farmland.
Before they could adjust, we were back on Highway 14/16
heading west once more. Then everything depended on Eagle Pass. Crucial seconds
lost to maneuvering in Greybull meant the 90th and the Condors collided on the
western side of the pass before we got there. Neither side could get to the
high ground, which left us that option; and we were running out of options all
right.
In one final aerial push, the CFS and Bolivians cleared the
airways for their forces. The mass of automobiles following were the first to
feel their wrath, confusing Mama Keverich's group with some of the Texas
patriots currently keeping the CFS Marines so fatally busy. A lot of them died
and so close to their goal, too. I certainly couldn't spare them an ounce of
pity.
They also downed all but two of the Ranger helos and one
aircraft from Seal Team 17. Those two units swung around the north side of the
ridgeline and set down northwest of the pass, optimally reinforcing the 90th
Security troopers. Seconds later, all three of their rides were blown to
smithereens as well. This was the carnage we came rolling into, as we climbed
up the eastern side of the ridgeline.
Right as Casper's ride cleared the top of the pass, her
Hummer was hit head-on by a 'light' anti-armored rocket, we suspected to have
been fired by the Condors' side. The Hummer swung to the right then rolled
over. Nat, at the controls of the second Hummer's copula, hit her selector
switch even as Wes slammed on the brakes in order to not slam into the vehicle
in front of her.
A chain of smoke grenades went off everywhere. Our people
were pouring out and rushing to Casper's demolished ride. Somehow, I found
myself amongst them, Pierre at my side. While other ladies provided us cover
fire, we dragged Casper, then Wendy, from the Hummer. I crawled in to get Kat; but
she was clearly dead, a piece of the engine block having fractured and crushed
her chest.
"Take the pathway to the south!" Jen was
screaming. "We'll swing around the ridgeline and cut cross country."
Our only problem was the lead vehicle in our line up would
be Dimple's all-terrain vehicle, without a hint of armor. Pierre and I
half-dragged, half-carried the two wounded Vanishers with us, as we fled back
to our ride. Elsewhere, the other walking-wounded passengers crawled into the
floorboards of other vehicles.
"She's going to beat the shit out of you for
this," Zara intoned, even as she used her chosen weapon to suppress the
few people coming up from behind us.
Kuiko and Capri helped us wedge the wounded into the back of
our Hummer. The moment I said, "Everyone's in!" Brandi hit the
accelerator, and off we shot.
"You're bleeding, Kuiko suddenly noticed, getting all
weepy once again.
I was. The broken glass and metal shard inside Casper's vehicle
had cut up my hands and forearms. Without even thinking about it, Kuiko began
to pull out the small pieces of glass shards from my exposed tissue. Meanwhile,
I had other things on my mind, like;
"Who me?" I asked a busy Zara.
"Yes, you," she murmured, then her rifle recoiled
once more. "She told you to cease with the heroics; and here you are
being all heroic again."
"Fuck it all," I shrugged. "She needed
saving."
"She's going to love that excuse," Zara chuckled,
even as she slid down to join us in our super-cramped quarters.
Zara immediately went into first-responder mode, tending to
the two wounded and directing us how we could help. Outside I could hear the
fifty caliber and grenade launcher firing away. I couldn't see who, or what,
they were firing at. Little did I know we were running straight through the
Condors' LZ (landing zone) and they weren't happy about it.
Zara, Kuiko and Capri bound my various light wounds and
abrasions once the foreign particles had been removed. The alcohol barely stung
and the iodine was utterly harmless in comparison. I still ended up looking as
if; very appropriately; I had been in a war zone.
This time my heroics had earned me wounds I could be proud
of. I had suffered for my friends, and that was a sensation I could barely
articulate. Best of all, I was damn sure I would do it all over again, if the
necessity arose. I was becoming a 'Man', or at least a man by the metrics of
Jethro MacFarlane; and that meant something to me.
Still, in the LZ, they must have had orders to not use too
heavy an ordinance against our tiny convoy lest they accidentally kill me. Sams
and rockets were going off everywhere. It appeared the Federation Air Force;
this group from the Ohio Valley Province with some smatterings of the fastest flyers
from the East Coast provinces; had gotten back into the fight.
Another wave of drones, plus the remainder of the Bolivians,
gave it their all in defense of their units. The end result was a maelstrom of
chaos. Normally, you fight your aircraft with the idea you retire once you were
out of missiles. Only the insane tried to engage a fighter with missiles with
only your guns. Still, that is what the Bolivians did. All that really meant
was both sides were dying in droves.
Dogfights led both sides rogue pilots away from the center
of the action so there was no one to chase after us; in the air; once we fought
our way through and got back on Highway 14. With Casper and Wendy out of
action, it fell to Wes Prince to take command.
"We are making for the Shoshone Forest," she
ordered. "We'll have to double back after dark, if we can."
Mind you, the city of Cody had been witnessing the carnage
outside their humble burgh. The GNN affiliate had recorded it for posterity
with the footage soon going around the globe with the accompanying question of;
'why?' Why were so many women fighting and dying to control that small piece
of real estate? And why was this one small segment of that fight, cutting their
way through and racing for Cody?
Well, it didn't take a retired reservist to understand there
were the friendly 90th and the Rangers. They were flying in on Federation
equipment, Enemy units were beating each other to death out there, and the good
citizens of Cody began organizing to provide assistance. Some gathered up their
firearms, and even their bows, to go 'help out' the friendlies, while others
prepared to offer succor to the multitude of wounded sure to be left behind.
The local police chief stopped her citizenry from rushing
out pell-mell toward the crisis; instead, building up a sizeable 'militia' to
sweep out as soon as she felt enough women had gathered. Inside of thirty
minutes she had rounded up two hundred, then she moved forward, her own small
group of civilian drones leading the way. It was no maddened charge. There were
a lot of aircraft up there that still constituted a threat, and the land
between Cody and Eagle Pass was wide open with little in the way of cover.
As we were racing toward Cody, the mass of vehicles swarmed
out of our destination city and formed into a loose vehicular skirmish line,
nearly a kilometer long. The biggest question in our minds was what would we do
if they tried to stop us. They didn't. They got out of the way and let us flee
into Cody, unmolested. Once there, Wes slowed us down so that we could talk to
someone in charge, to pass on what we knew about the danger we were fleeing.
That turned out to be the Chief of Surgery for the Park
County Hospital, one Dr. Tasha Abernathy. She offered to take our wounded off
our hands, but Wes declined. A few people looked at me and Pierre when we got
out of our Hummer to stretch our legs, and to allow the medical staff and a
gaggle of Girl Scouts examine our fallen.
We were armed and armored, yet still were tall and not
overly feminine. Of course, putting a gun in a man's hands was tantamount to
insanity, yet no one called us on it. Only Jethro drew an inordinate amount of
stares; him having a beard and all. Even with Capri and Kuiko by my side,
eventually some woman approached me.
"Hi. Welcome to Cody. I'm Lisa Shaw, head of local Girl
Scout troop 3078. Who are you, exactly?"
"What she is; is tired," Capri moved between us.
"Your friend needs a shave," Miss Shaw smirked,
"and a cup."
"Cup of what," I let my fatigue expound upon my
ignorance.
"An athletic support cup," she studied me.
"I've seen you somewhere before."
"No, you haven't," Kuiko spouted, nervously.
"What my friend means is I have one of those faces and
'yes', I am a man with a gun, my friends and allies are not insane, and unless
you want to see just how serious my friends are about helping me keep it, I
suggest you keep your mouth shut about what you suspect," I somehow found
the inner strength to say.
"A whole lot of women are out there dying for
you," Lisa said, instead of backing off.
"No, what they are fighting and dying for is to keep
men enslaved," I bit back, angrily.
"Why I live and breathe; Mr. Jensen," she
eyeballed me.
I looked around at the number of women present with firearms
of some kind; too damn many despite the 'non-violent' purpose of them having
gathered here.
"Scream that from the rafters, and living and breathing
will be the least of your worries," I bit back.
"What does that mean?" she countered.
"I mean, they will roll into Cody and level it, trying
to capture me. And they will level it. And not just these foreign fighters, but
Federation forces as well."
"We are part of the Federation."
"I'm not. Not anymore."
"Why do they want you so bad?"
"I'm not going to tell you. Suffice to say, if you
squeal, all you will bring to this town is death. Not at my hand, but at the
ruthless hands of the women back East who think they are in charge."
"Those women are in charge," Miss Shaw
stated belief as fact, despite the solar array having crashed into the capital
and the JCS being out of contact for the past several hours. Who was really in
charge of what at this point? Who knew?
"Not of me. Not anymore," I frowned.
"That's treason; especially in times of war."
"Fuck you," snapped Capri. "Do you know what
a writ of exclusion is? Well
1 hr 2 min
July 03 Vanishing Manhood: Part 19
Vanishing Manhood: Part 19
A Global Manhunt.
Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand. Listen to the
► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

Time
is like an overhanging snow wall in the depths of winter. Most times, it looms
large yet does nothing. Other times, it comes at you like an avalanche.
If I had to stage a scene to depict a smuggler's hangout,
the Deep-Six Saloon would have been it. What I was seeing, though, was a bit
more terrifying. See, Flame had barely begun her spiel, offering up the bogus
bank accounts the Vanishers were providing, when Mama Ripley and her two
daughters dropped the hammer on her.
"You've got the cure," Monica, the mother of the
two sisters softly stated. "We want to see it."
"Who told you that?" Casper had tried to bluff her
way through.
Flame knew it was pointless, though. These three ladies were
lean on trust. It was why they had escaped law enforcement for so long.
"Show them Israel," she told Casper.
"I'd rather not. Besides, who told you;?"
"Big M. Maria. Maria Keverich. She's broken out of
prison and coming this way," Sonia, the oldest daughter informed them.
"She seems to be in a big hurry, too."
"The Plague is real," Flame shrugged. "Either
you get cured, or you get dead."
"The fuck you say," Aria, the youngest joined the
conversation.
"Straight up," Flame shrugged once more.
"So, how does this 'cure' work?" Monica took over.
"He fucks you, gives you his seed, and you are immune.
These people," she indicated Casper and the other Vanisher in the room,
"have tested it and it works."
"How did you test it?"
"On live samples of this new plague. The Israel Cure
wiped the Plague out; completely. We can do a blood transfusion and make the
three of you immune as well."
"Nah," said Sonia grinned, "we'll go 'old
school'."
"You want him to fuck you?" was what Casper
decided they meant.
"Yeah. We even got a picture of him. He's kind of cute
and his reviews are stellar. This may by my final fuck, so I want to go out in
style."
"What about Maria?" Flame grinned.
"Well, once we have you across the Big-Mo, we'll let
her know you stopped by. Then we are going to make a hiking trip out into the
wilderness for a few days; maybe a week, or two. When we come back, we'll see
what is left and go from there," Monica related.
"There's not likely to be much left," Casper
pointed out.
"Sure, but I might just be ovulating. Maybe a change of
careers might be in order," she chuckled. "Then I could have a little
squealer all my own."
"Let's get this over with," Casper growled.
"I want to be there when you explain this to
Israel," Flame chuckled, instead. "He's going to just love this
'bargain'."
"Hey, we aren't ugly; and we've bathed; this
week," Aria countered.
"Yeah, but Israel is a treat. Wait until you talk to
him," Flame kept snickering.
"Does he have a small dick?" Sonia frowned.
"Oh no," Flame burst out laughing. "Shit, you
may have trouble walking afterwards. Just ask that Sano-chick."
"She's here with you?" Monica grinned.
"Oh yeah. Israel is a loyal bastard alright. He's got a
whole female posse with him right now; Plus; these heavily armed chicks."
"Let's get to it," Casper announced, then spun
around and walked out. The second Vanisher walked backwards, covering their
withdrawal.
And that's where I came in;
"You want me to do what?" sort of spilled out,
when Casper brought me up to speed.
"Yes, and time we don't have is being wasted," she
confirmed.
"You can't be serious?" Angel jumped in.
"I am and I'm terribly sorry about this, Israel. I
am."
"Go knock 'em out of the ballpark, slugger," Flame
slapped me on the back.
I stumbled forward when she did so; and then I kept walking
toward the saloon's front doors. In I went, and gradually the noise, other than
the sound system blaring out some tune I was unfamiliar with, died down.
"Over here," a figure waved to me from the back of
the establishment. On I went, conscious of several of 'my' team coming along
behind me. I walked back, amazed that my two warring emotions kept me
surprisingly steady. Right off the bat, I was terrified. These women looked
Rough! Violently so. On the other hand, I was enraged by the circumstance I
found myself in.
I needed to pass on my antibodies to the people I loved most
first; Aniqua, Capri, Roni and Samantha; not these total strangers. I seriously
wanted to go over to them and start slapping the smirks off the two oldest
ones' faces. The youngest one merely looked; sexually curious.
"How is this going to work?" was what I came up
with first, as opposed to something asininely stupid.
"Let's go."
The three stood up from their chairs and headed for a door
shrouded in shadow. It didn't have an 'exit' sign over it, so I was somewhat
hopeful this wasn't the lead into a kidnapping attempt. No, instead the doorway
led to a small back room with another door; this one with an exit sign; a
small, 4-person table and a cot. Angel and Casper swept the room first then
took a seat at the table. I had no idea what my reaction would be to this
situation.
I still hadn't gotten over the death of Lowry after all and
that was some nightmare-inducing shit.
"Don't act so tense," the woman said. "I'm
Monica Ripley, by the way."
"Israel Jensen," I reciprocated.
"Well, Israel, let's get to it," she said, with a
hungry smile.
"Why are you doing this?" I had to know.
"Huh?"
"Why do you want to have sex with me?" I
elucidated.
"You are a fine-looking young man." She lost some
of her predatory edge, becoming more womanly.
"Really?"
"Well; I'd also like to live." She began
disrobing.
"You can do that with a blood transfusion," I
pointed out.
"Fine, if the lights are really going out, I'd like a
child; you know, to accompany me and my other daughters when we start
repopulating the world. Could even have another son this time."
"Oh," I suddenly didn't feel so bad anymore, put
at ease by that most womanly of virtues; motherhood. "Let's see what we
can do about that then," I added, while starting to shed my clothing, too.
I had to convince myself I could do this. These weren't horrible women; not
like Flame, Little-M, or Isobel Diaz.
"Oh," I repeated, "that's some nice body
art." In fact her tattoos helped distract me from the deed I was about to
commit.
"Why thank you," the then-naked Monica regarded
me. "Except for some bruising, you have a hella-nice body too. Work out
much?"
"Every day for one hour, plus sometimes in the morning
before work; if I feel stressed."
"From what I understand stress has become a rather
common occurrence for you," she smiled at me; this time almost playfully.
In response, I brushed her hair over her shoulders, first
left, then right. I think it caught us both off guard when I leaned in and
kissed her. That one kiss led to several others, which finally resulted in our
crashing down on the cot. The springs tried to revolt against our impact, but
failed to collapse. The bad-ass extortionist; giggled. Yeah, giggled.
Afterwards, screwing Monica and her daughters wasn't so bad after all.
North Wheeler Recreation Area, Missouri River.
Here we were, at our last serious terrain barrier and I was
feeling giddy. Contrary to my elation, Casper and company were hellishly on
edge as this would be an excellent spot for an ambush; far from civilization,
out here in the dark, lit by a crescent moon and a starry sky. My ladies were
feeling equally pissed, I was being used as currency. As we worked the pontoon
boat down toward the water's edge, we had every one of 'my team' as well as
Casper's team and three other Vanishers.
The other six Vanishers were out there, somewhere; keeping
watch in the night, seeking to avoid said ambush. So far, there was nothing
except the songs of night birds and the howl of a lonesome coyote. As it stood,
we had four trips to make from where they were to the South Wheeler Recreation
Area. Trip one would be the first Hummer plus Jethro and his ride.
The next trip would be the second Hummer, including Barabbas
and me. The third Hummer with Casper's group plus Pierre followed after, with
the fourth Hummer (Dusk, Luna and Thorn; I had finally learned their monikers)
coming across last of all.
It was only as we were preparing for the fourth Hummer to
cross that our luck finally hit a 'bump'. A drone, flying nape of the Earth,
came up the Missouri making slow progress. Thanks to Casper's paranoia, we had
warning, giving us advanced notice of the threat before it was upon us. It
didn't do anything suspicious as it flew over us, nor did it come back for a
second look.
I would have been happy with that, if I hadn't been told by
Casper some really unwelcome news. This drone wasn't in the Federation
inventory. It belonged to the Bolivian Air Force and was the harbinger of some
really bad shit about to fall upon us all, and by 'us' I meant the entire
Federation. Had the Federation been acting in a coordinated fashion, this
wouldn't have been a threat, but we weren't.
Spotted By Drones.
Instead, we were, indeed, spotted and with that, the Bolivian
and Caribbean Federation forces made their final preparations to launch their
air assault against the one force standing between them and me; the province of
Texas. Texans could read a radar screen just as good as anyone else in the
Federation; and they were alerting the surrounding military districts about the
hate-on coming their way in the form of the entire fucking CFS Navy.
Behind that naval armada was an even larger airborne force;
the combination of everything the CFS and Bolivians could put into the air.
Their plan was to lay a carpet of destruction between the coast of Texas into
the interior all the way to the Middle Rocky Mountain Military District; which
was also one of the poorer MDs resource-wise. In fact, between our little
convoy and the edge of the Middle Rocky Mountains District was only one regular
ground combat unit; the 90th Security Forces Group.
As a final ignominy of the night, as the Bolivians and
Caribbean Federation launched this 'unprovoked' attack, the 'thing' the 90th
SFG guarded were put on alert. The thirty non-nuclear, multiple-warhead ICBMs
were about to receive orders to rain down hell on the CFS and Bolivia because
the Joint Chiefs of Staff had finally realized what this war was all about; the
Israel Cure.
Accordingly, a Nasa weather satellite deviated from its
course and angled toward the closest Bolivian surveillance satellite, drew
close and then exploded using directional charges which shot-gunned tiny metal
fragments into a lethal cloud which took out the Bolivian target, momentarily
blinding their efforts to keep track of Casper's little convoy. It was that
satellite which had led the drone to us crossing the river.
Before anyone at Space Command could celebrate, three
Bolivian satellites were seen closing the distance to the Federation
surveillance satellites attempting to do the same thing to the Federation;
blind them to what the combined enemy forces were up to. Simultaneously, the
missile frigates in the CFS fleet had finally sped within range and unleashed
their payloads at pre-selected targets. The war had come to Earth.
If there was anything positive for the Federation in all
these cascading events it was that the Lower Mississippi Regional Military
Commander decided war trumped politics and threw her full support and weight
behind the Texans; more planes and airmobile units were on their way. Mexico
and 'Ole Mexico'; with the Defense Minister; followed suit.
Despite being outnumbered and outgunned, Fleet Veracruz
began racing to catch up with the CFS flotilla. The Southern Atlantic Fleet was
neither outnumbered nor outgunned. She rerouted her course and headed straight
at the CFS itself, the Central Atlantic Fleet was going all out, trying to
catch up. With so many women rushing straight into harm's way; the knowledge
would have paralyzed me. Lucky for me, none of this was publicly known yet.
Unfortunately, the Bolivians had one last trump card to
play. Already the long-range stealth helicopters were racing north toward their
target. The elite commandos aboard the three aircraft knew the chance of their
mission reaching their target was minimal; the Federation capital. Their chance
of survival was nonexistent, yet they had all volunteered for this mission;
Bolivia's only real chance to succeed in this war.
Hunting The Hunters.
The pontoon boat brought the last Hummer across; plus one;
Aria Ripley. Her mother and older sister had sent her across hoping it would
increase her odds of survival in case; things got even worse. Well, unbeknownst
to us, Monica Ripley launched a drone of her own; a much smaller model, of
course; and gone hunting for that first drone.
She shouldn't have bothered. Once she was alerted to the
presence and general location of the opposing drone, Jen had begun to hunt down
its signal and prepared to jam it. Sure, her jammer was relatively low powered,
but she was within a few kilometers of it, while the Bolivian drone-driver was
way back in the CFS. The second the drone went from controlled flight to an AI
search pattern, the Vanishers gave it a surprise of their own.
A Manpad wielded by Zara. There it was, the Bolivian drone,
circling beyond the scope of our nighttime vision, but not that of Casper's
ever-present drone. Zara's missile announced to her trained ear the 'beep-beep'
of a lock-on, then she fired. Back in CFS, the drone-driver had just a second
to realize it was being hunted; before she lost control of her 'bird'. It was
blown to bits before she could reassert her control.
For both our convoy and the Ripleys' it was time to make a
hasty exit. Those on the east bank of the Missouri; well, they made that
dreaded phone call to Maria Keverich before they pulled their own vanishing act
into the Pine Ridge Reservation. For those of us on the west bank, it was on to
Winner, lights out and IR systems activated.
My own trip was complicated by Aria wanting to sit on my
lap. Despite the rush, our sex had been enough to leave her panting and on
shaky legs. Undoubtedly, she attached some level of romance to our coupling,
despite it being enforced by blackmail. I didn't tell her this; what would have
been the point, except to make her miss her family more?
While I could tell she was terribly anxious and afraid, my
lap belonged to Kuiko, so Kuiko gave up her seat; each Hummer had been
configured as 'troop carriers' with six total seats; to Aria and gladly took up
her station on top of me. Kuiko sensed my sense of loss and confusion, so
opened her armored vest and gave me some nipples to play with; she was so warm,
enticing and what I wanted most right then.
The ride out of the 'recreation area' was rough. That wasn't
surprising since the natural playground hadn't seen regular traffic in decades.
To make things more comfortable for Kuiko, I began to run my hands all over her
body. There we were, she in my lap so that we were face to face, snuggled in;
then the kissing began.
First it was a few kisses by me onto her forehead and
temples.
She reciprocated with kisses upon the top of my sternum and
neck. Within two minutes, we were in a deep, French kiss, dispelling the gloom
and doom around us in our own little 'love bubble'. It felt wonderful. As I had
told Kuiko just three days ago, I thought this was the way men and women were
meant to be. In love, and passionately displaying that for the whole world to
see.
"Love, love, love," she giggled.
My hands caressed her lithe back from the bra-line to the
firmness of her butt cheeks; just wonderful. I could tell when we finally hit
Highway 18; the bumps lessened, though the swerving became more common. While
it got more traffic, Highway 18 was still a backroad, not well maintained at
all.
Still, it was then a straight shot to Winner and the far
better kept roads which led to Federation Highway 90; our straight shot to
Rapid City and resupply, or so we hoped. Our military-grade batteries were
dangerously depleted, we needed more food and something to drink as well. Last
of all, we didn't want to be on the road come daybreak. The race was on for us
to find some place to shelter before the sun found us vulnerable, out in the
open for all to see.
Shirley's Diner, Winner, South Dakota.
Despite the early hours; their declared opening hour was six
AM; Shirley's was packed, mainly with 'take-out' orders. They were for people
heading east, somehow hoping to get past the quarantine on the Highway 44
Platte-Winner Bridge. It was already shut down to all traffic and enforced by
some National Guard unit, but still people kept trying to cross. The traffic
jams were horrendous.
"Okay," Casper warned us. "We are looking for
reinforcements here, so keep your eyes open and your hands on your trigger
guards."
"Are you going to give me a gun?" I knew I sounded
incredulous.
"Yes, Israel, but it won't be loaded, so no need to
freak out," she answered.
"What if someone shoots at him?" Angel frowned.
"We make them dead."
"Done deal," Angel responded.
"Let's go and keep those engines running. This had
better not take long," Casper declared, before our diminished group went
in. The Vanishers had to keep one team member in the driver's seat and the other
manning the copula so they could only spare four coming in. That meant 'my
group' had to contribute some members. I had volunteered and stunningly, Casper
said 'yes'.
Angel had my back, along with Wes with one group, while
Casper had Capri and Luna in the other. For some reason; and then I saw them
just as they saw us; it was Dimple's team! Dimple's team plus Freya and her
infant son; who was currently breastfeeding. Fraklos was the one closest and
she jumped up and came right at me in a hurry.
"Fucking 'A'," she chortled, shaking her head.
"It would have to be you."
"How did you know to meet up with us; and we have to go
right now," I took her hug, bit down on my fear of being touched by
strangers, then turned her half around and began retiring from whence I came. I
guessed since the last time we had been together at GNN studios, she really had
helped me escape after all; so;
"Enola contacted Mary Wollstonecraft and they steered
us here," Fraklos clued me in on our convergence.
She waved everyone over, and we all rapidly made our exit
outside to our waiting rides. We had drawn some attention, but the local law
enforcement must have already been hellishly overtaxed, so no one, officially,
was bothering us. Besides, not counting Jethro's motorcycle, ours looked like a
small military convoy. In short order, the former-FBI contingent mounted their
two stolen rides and off we went.
Our problem was one of power, or lack thereof. Our Hummers
would need a recharge sometime in the next four hours; sooner, if we were
forced cross-country. It was Kuiko, who stepped up and told Casper she had
'connections' in Rapid City, who might be able to help. They had a private
electronic hook-up on site of their business; the Rapid City Hotel and Casino;
"Kuiko, who do you know who works in a casino?" I
inquired. As far as I could figure out, it was most likely someone in food
services, or a dealer if she was lucky.
"I; um; my grandmother manages the largest casino
back in the city," she meekly confessed.
"Wait a second," Aniqua's voice broke over the
frequency. "How much does your grandmother make a year?"
"Upper six figures, I think." She looked so
embarrassed.
"Does she hate you
1 hr 6 min
July 02 Vanishing Manhood: Part 18
Vanishing Manhood: Part 18
Seeds Of My Sins.
Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand. Listen to the
► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

The race to a temporary safety.
To be
treasured is to be safe in the knowledge you are cared for and unsafe in the
certainty your value puts your life at risk.
"Good to see you awake," Isobel Diaz regarded the
woman, who was strapped down securely to the hospital bed.
"Wha; uh; why am I still alive?" Magdalena
Keverich rasped at her captor. Her eyes slowly took in her circumstance. She'd
been shot; in the shoulder. She recalled the military and SWAT storming her
safe house. She'd gone down early in the fire-fight and had been groggy from
shock and blood loss by the time she was 'arrested'. Then;
"You are too valuable," Isobel showered her with
false compassion. Her eyes flickered to the tubes going into the left arm of
'Little M; which led to a humming device. Isobel struggled to understand.
"Your antibodies," Isobel informed her. "Actually, Israel's
antibodies."
"Ah; you're stealing my immunity," Maggie gargled.
"That's debatable," Isobel's face turned
positively reptilian. "The experts aren't sure if the continuous dialysis
will kill you before we extract enough of the antibodies to make you vulnerable
to this new plague. That's not really important."
Maggie decided disagreeing at this juncture was pointless.
"What is important is how painful your last few days on
Earth will be. You can affect this by helping me find Mr. Jensen," Isobel
offered.
"Why do you think I would know where he is?"
Little M's voice was dull and sounded like she had gargled with sandpaper.
"I don't think you do. I do suspect two of your
associates; Brigit O'Connor and Davia Afrah Qanyare; might know where he is and
if you help us find them;"
"You didn't kill Brigit?" Little M scoffed, with
amusement. "I can see why you would want to find her; before she finds
you."
Isobel's eyes narrowed.
"Someone blew the head off Amy Smith, manager of
Industrial Maintenance Welding, then burned the building she worked in to the
ground," she said.
"Oh; Miss 'staring thirty minutes at the ceiling,
fuck-stunned'," the former Mob Boss mused. "I guess his cop
girlfriends are both gone, too."
"Both? He had more than one?" Diaz leaned forward.
"That Passey-chick?"
Isobel didn't respond, mulling over other information she
hadn't shared. Magdalena looked around.
There were three other beds in her room. In the adjacent bed
was another woman in a similar hook-up with the addition of tubes going down
her throat and nose. Despite the pain in her shoulder and head, she did some
quick suppositions.
"He fucked her, too?"
"What?" Isobel's eyes flickered from Little M,
over to the comatose form then shrugged. "Yes. Debra 'something'. Sadly,
she had nothing useful to contribute except her antibodies. The second, fourth,
fifth and sixth women he inseminated are still at large." Magdalena
recalled Israel's first sex partner in the city had been a woman named Debra.
Sex partner two had been the cop. She was the third. 'Fuck-stun' was the
fourth. Maggie was less certain who the fifth and sixth were.
"Israel warned me what he had was a death sentence for
me," Maggie related.
"He is annoyingly intelligent at times. Now answer my
question. How do I find Miss O'Connor and Qanyare?"
"Let me think on it," Little M' requested.
Isobel didn't look all that patient.
"Listen, I've just woken up and am in a truckload of
pain. I need to think over what I recall about Industrial Maintenance Welding
and Miss Smith."
"I will give you five minutes," Isobel allowed.
She rose up; she had been sitting in a chair at Little M's bedside; and walked
out the door.
There were no other active people in the room. Maggie shook
her wrists and ankles. She was very securely bound. No soldiers, or police.
Certainly no lawyer of any kind. Most likely the world thought she was dead.
She was in a small medical facility under Isobel Diaz's control. That
realization was horrific news.
It wasn't as if she could expect Brigit and Davia to come to
her rescue. They weren't those kinds of 'friends', and Maggie figured 'The
Outfit' was dead. Mom? If Isobel had any sense left, she would have arranged
for Maria Keverich's death already.
Maggie had spent her years in charge of the Keverich Mob,
trying to ferret out who betrayed her mother to the feds and had come up empty.
She'd gone to Isobel's party and Isobel had tried to 'mend fences', which
hadn't worked. No daughter of Maria Keverich would ever trust a cop, or those
who served them. None of that mattered.
Isobel returned to the room.
"Well?"
"The night of the MAL Rally disaster, Brigit picked up
Mr. Jensen. They hung out at the unfinished overpass for about an hour. At the
end of their 'stay', she told me they encountered two women with military-style
hardware. It was insinuated there was a sniper as well. The ladies on the
bridge said they were with a person called 'Zara', who Israel appeared to be
familiar with."
"Zara? That's not much to go on, Magdalena,"
Isobel studied her.
"Give me something solid to eat and I might recall more
about their little meeting," Little M suggested. "Being shot
sucks."
"You are alive because I told them to take you alive.
You remain conscious as long as I find you useful, Magdalena," Isobel
frowned. "If I find you are holding something back;"
"At this point, I don't have any option except working
with you, Isobel," Maggie attempted to smile.
"You aren't working with me. Outside of Israel's
antibodies, I don't think I need you anymore," Isobel grinned, shark-like.
As a final, utter humiliation, Magdalena Keverich, once one
of the most feared women in the city, was reduced to a past-acquaintance of a
man, a legal notation of him fulfilling his legal duty as a sperm donor.
'You are not on the short; very short list of women whose
opinions and expectations mean crap to me, Magdalena' she recalled Jensen
telling her.
Isobel caught the slight shift in Maggie's countenance.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Bring me that meal, or bring on your torturer,"
Maggie glowered, "because I'm not telling you shit until I either have my
fill of either food, or pain."
While Isobel considered her options, Maggie Keverich went
over the small list of women who did matter to Israel Jensen; women who might
either provide keys to his thinking, or women he might be trying to save; as
crazy as that sounded. 'On second thought, maybe it isn't so crazy',
Maggie thought.
Brigit and Davia might have very well found Israel. Odds
were good his cop girlfriend was with him, too. If you added the three armed
women on the bridge; Jensen was putting a good deal of guns around himself; and
that was the best hope of salvation she had.
Markham Federal Hospital For The Criminally Insane, Outside Of Madison
The female interrogator walked into the room with one
corrections officer and two members of the HRT (FBI's Hostage Rescue Team) she
had hastily been assigned to work with.
"As promised; one near-vegetable." The corrections
officer pointed to the fifth person in the room.
"This is Verona Hedwig 'Hedy' Salenko?" the
interrogator despaired.
"Yes; the Aurora Slasher herself. Not much to look at
now, is she?"
"Why have you kept her so sedated?"
"Because she's fucking dangerous. She damn near escaped
her first month in custody. Put three prisoners and two guards in the hospital.
Would have been more except for the shock collar," the corrections officer
explained.
"I; need to talk to her," the interrogator
explained.
"She's a monster. The dosages we have her on won't
cycle out of her system for six days; minimum," the CO stated.
"This is a matter of national security," the
interrogator stated.
"For this monster?" the corrections officer
scoffed.
"No." The interrogator bit down on her rage.
"For Israel Jensen. Perhaps, you've heard of him?"
"The one who lived; he's the same Jensen who brought
down the President?"
"Precisely; and the one we desperately need in
custody."
"Why?"
"I can't explain that to you right now; this being a
matter of national security," the interrogator simmered.
"I'll see what the infirmary can do," the
corrections officer shrugged. Off she went.
The interrogator gave her one minute, then gave a hand
signal to the FBI officers in the control room to cut the feed from this room.
"Greetings Miss Salenko, I am Special Agent Winthrop
and these are Special Agents Carver and Lewinsky," the lead investigator
began.
No response whatsoever.
"Israel Jensen," the interrogator repeated. She
had spotted a slight reaction from the subject when she had first said his
name. This time; nothing. Still, the interrogator had few options. She took a
seat opposite the deranged psychopath.
"I'm your only chance to get out of this hell
hole," was her next ploy.
Nothing. She played her last card.
"Israel is in serious trouble, Miss Salenko. Trouble
which could get him killed; or worse."
It was like watching a snake uncoil from within its 'human
skinsuit'. Miss Salenko; the Aurora Slasher; popped her neck vertebra; first
right then left before centering her head atop her neck. Precisely so.
"My Israel is in trouble?" she asked politely.
"Yes."
"Please explain," Verona requested.
"I was wondering what insights into his personality he
might express which would make it easier for the government to find him."
"That's not an explanation," the Aurora Slasher
stated. "Please try again."
"Okay; have you heard about the men vanishing across
the country?" the interrogator asked.
Verona nodded.
"We are afraid he has fallen in with them."
"Oh; has my Israel been a good boy?"
This was a tough one for the interrogator. Her problem was
the nature of her subject. She was brilliant; a career police officer on the
fast track to success when a terrible incident had robbed her of her uterus and
ovaries. Incident reports after her 'take down' by the serial-killer-profiling
squad suggested she was a narcissist with sociopathic tendencies and homicidal
delusions before her wounding, and had become much worse afterwards.
Literally speaking, she had become a homicidal maniac, who
had developed a romantic relationship with one of her victims. One Israel
Jensen was, indeed, 'lucky' to be alive, if a psychologically scarred young
man.
Here she had to determine how much information to spoon-feed
Miss Salenko without putting their mission at risk.
"No. No, he hasn't been a good boy," the
interrogator answered.
"Oh; what happened to him after you subjected him to
one of your 'fuck farms'?"
"Fuck farms?"
"Oh; what you call rape rehabilitation centers. Where
you teach young men to become fuck pigs for the greater glory of society."
Verona smiled, eerily.
"Help me and I'll help you," the interrogator established
the ground rules.
"He goes west," Verona stated, confidently.
"How do you even know where he is; was?" SA Carver
blurted out.
"I watch the news just like everyone else. I've seen my
Israel doing his thing in the city, know the geography, and know the entire
government is looking for him. Hardly rocket science when everyone around me
thinks I'm a drooling idiot."
"Oh-kay," the interrogator nodded. "He has
had sex multiple times since he left you. By your definition he has been a 'bad
boy'."
"Contrary to your mental assessment of my Israel, he
will have attached himself to violent women. He learned that violent women
equals life from me. Now, has he had sex more than once with the same
woman?"
"Why would you want to know?"
"That would be emotional cheating and I wouldn't stand
for that," Verona smiled again. It was just as eerie as it was confident.
"Eighteen."
"Names," the Aurora Slasher requested.
"So you can escape and kill them; no thank you,"
the interrogator shook her head. Despite the Aurora Slasher being chained by
multiple ankle, waist and wrist cuffs, she still gave off the aura of absolute
menace.
"Besides, I gave you a piece of information so now you
have to give me something."
"Give me more to work with," Verona stated.
"What do you need?"
"His sexual history," she related.
"So you can get the names of those women? Again, no
thank you."
"Fine; give me the list from one year back through his
time in the city. That should suggest who is with him and what their
relationship is," Verona explained.
This was part of the process which really sucked for the
interrogator. She wanted to leave the room and give this monster nothing, but
her political mistresses didn't want her to come back with 'nothing'. She had
to break protocols and hand the information over.
Silently the Aurora Slasher went over the data on a tablet
set aside for such revelations.
"I doubt he is with this Keverich woman," she
began after fifteen minutes. "The power dynamic is too much against him.
He wouldn't go to her seeking safety. My educated guess is he is with the cop; who
he had intercourse with four times in one day; bad boy. Very bad boy. Also; something
is wrong with my Israel."
"How so?"
The Aurora Slasher weighed her response.
"My Israel is as delicate boy. He is having sex when
mandated; when he couldn't buy out of it. His reviews are stellar; but until
this police officer, he never goes back. What did you do to him?"
Gut-check time for the interrogator. She would be putting
multiple lives at risk by saying what she needed to say next.
"Recent interviews suggest he was raped multiple times
at a sorority function in college. He tried to report it, but his claims were
rudely rejected by campus security. Information suggests he was brought to the
function by his then-girlfriend. They then broke up; of course."
"Of course," the Aurora Slasher whispered. There
was a pause. "Your 'fuck farm' turned my Israel into a fatted calf who was
then sacrificed at that sorority; and then you simply expected him to blithely
get along with his life. And you call me a monster." She gazed upon the
interrogator and her accomplices.
"So you believe his story; that he was raped?" the
interrogator played along.
"Of course. Otherwise, he would have betrayed me in a
way most foul and I would have to kill him when we meet again; but this is all
your fault; you and your law enforcement types. Israel; my Israel;" she
choked out.
"He's not 'your Israel'," the talkative HRT woman
growled. "You held him in a basement and raped him for eighty-four days. I
doubt --"
"Enough," the interrogator stopped her
subordinate.
"I protected him," Aurora gave her side of events.
"Where else but my basement would he have been safe from the rest of you?
You would have turned that sweet young boy into a whore. I gave him the purity
of monogamy."
"Don't." The interrogator stopped the HRT woman
from getting into this game of semantics with the brilliant, but deranged,
subject.
"I want to come along," Verona 'Hedy' Salenko
requested.
"Out of the question," the interrogator shook her
head. "You are a very dangerous detainee."
"The more information you give me about your case, the
more detailed response I can give you about my Israel," she reasoned.
"No thank you. What I can offer you is being removed to
a less odious place, or perhaps you would prefer solitary confinement?"
"I already know I know something you haven't even begun
to consider and it is answered in this one question; why would Israel Jensen
have any say in a group of women about where they would be going?"
That stumped the interrogator, which she knew to be a bad
thing.
"Why would my Israel have such an impact in their
decision-making process?" Verona inquired. "Am I coming with you, or
are you going to be one serious step behind the entire time?"
"I would have to check with my superiors first, and
don't even think you would ever be unchained," the interrogator's eyes
narrowed.
"This is a freebie," the Aurora Slasher smiled.
"My Israel is going to be a father; to all, or at least most of the women
he is with and that dynamic is working its way out. He is becoming their
patriarch."
"The patriarchy is dead," the interrogator stated
as fact.
"It is a fire I stoked within him while we were
together," Verona answered. "The power of the patriarch; of men
seeking fatherhood; is greater than any of you realize; though you are just
starting to figure it out with the abolition of marriage. Men want to be
fathers and fathers are the core of any stable family structure. I know this to
be true."
The corrections officer returned to the room, cutting off
the conversation. Verona immediately shut down.
"Sorry," the corrections officer sighed.
"That drug regimen is virtually foolproof and takes six days to work its
way through her system. There is no other cure for it which doesn't risk frying
her synapsis."
"Don't worry about it," the interrogator said.
"We will be taking her with us."
"You will need an order from someone pretty high
up," the corrections officer blanched.
"How about one from the Acting Attorney General of the
Federation? Will that do?"
"Yeah; yes, that would suffice," the corrections
officer's head bobbed. The rest was mere formality
Thursday Evening.
We stayed at Jethro's all morning and most of the afternoon,
while Casper sent a drone westward to check out our possible exit path all the
way to the Mississippi River. Everything looked good. On television we watched
the world slowly become unhinged. Bizarrely, while the government collapsed,
the federation's Constitution continued to function; namely in the area of
freedom of the press.
This was more a result of the turf war between the civilian
administration, the EMM (Emergency Management Administration), and the Military
Command Authority than anyone's slavish devotion to a piece of paper. Globally,
GNN kept us abreast of various nations' and people's attempts to stem the
seemingly unstoppable tide. In the city, an attempt by the RMC (Regional
Military Commander) and city council to bring the 'order' to the various
disparate voices of the press led to unexpected chaos.
Only three outlets decided to resist the new government
directives. One was a collegiate pro-environmental site. Another was a
proto-communist news group. The third was the Sentinel, the city's largest
independent media enterprise. Apparently the Mayor's Pubic Relation's Office
quit en masse, so the folks in charge were forced to simply shut down the
centers of opposition.
They forgot one guy; quite literally. I'd left Doyle Crane
in the midst of GNN with Eloise Granger, hotshot Sentinel journalist and
eternal foe of Isobel Diaz, and Dimples, who was more than capable of figuring
out who the 'bad girls' were as the situation was unfolding.
Doyle wasn't the Voice of the Resistance. No; he gave
a voice to those who were res
1 hr 4 min
July 01 Vanishing Manhood: Part 17
Vanishing Manhood:
Part 17
The end of the cruel Peace & the start of the desperate War.
Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand. Listen to the
► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

A
frightened Mother Mouse will devour her young; similarly, a frightened culture
will devour its future.
It wasn't like a magic force field bubble protected us until
our 16th birthday. I couldn't recall all the times after I was 13 some woman
asked me, or my Mother, when my 16th birthday would be. Back then, I didn't
think much about it. In hindsight, those women were wondering when I would
become legally sexually vulnerable. In way too many cases, women with access to
teenage boys didn't wait.
Even if they did,
"It was my Aunt," Barabbas confessed. "She
and her boss."
You would think a sixteen, or seventeen, year old guy
getting to sleep with a Milf would be a trip. It could be. For the boys with
better developed empathy, you started to realize a woman you trusted was using
your sexuality for their own advancement. Then you began feeling like a whore.
"She got me a job, but I quit after four months, you
know,” he trailed off.
"Yeah," I sighed sympathetically.
"Yeah," Lowry snorted, "when the rest decided
you should be putting out for free."
"That was completely unnecessary," I glared at
him.
"But true," he defied me.
"True," Barabbas agreed with a familiar degree of
rejection.
"Mom flipped out when she figured out what Tamara; my
sister; was doing," Pierre picked up his tale. "I was seventeen by
that time. She helped pay for my college." We assumed the 'she' was his
sister; the one who pimped him out.
"I hit one once," Lowry bragged. I found that
somewhat difficult to believe.
"What happened?" Pierre asked.
"She kicked my ass," he chuckled.
"Ex-military Reservist. Beat me like I had a cock." I read somewhere
in the old days it was more common to say 'like a little bitch.’ Now it was
'like I had a cock' because they didn't like teaching men to be 'too violent'
aka how to defend ourselves.
No one else felt like inquiring, so Barabbas did the deed.
"Go to the cops?"
"For what?" he shook his head. "I threw the
first punch, and the second. Fucking Bitch. We both looked pretty rough, but I
lost."
Another pause.
"What was it like to hit one with your stick?"
Lowry shot me a look.
"Good, damn good, and stupid. I mean, I could have
ended up like you with a crowd of women on a subway kicking and stomping on me
and I would have ended up in jail too," I related. "Still, it felt
good, just to tell one to keep her hands to herself, ya know?" I got nods
all around. We were all young, healthy and relatively handsome.
"Yeah, you could have gotten your ass kicked,"
Barabbas reminded me.
"In fact, one of the major reasons I didn't, gave me
the pistol I'm carrying," I twitched it slightly. "The first time
they came for me, I asked them, the Vanishers, to wait, and they did."
"Why in the fuck
would you do that?" Lowry blurted out, shocked and skeptical.
"At the time, I didn't trust them since I figured they
were nothing more than another bunch of women telling me what to do. I wanted
to use them to escape. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life serving them
if it meant the same fucked-up
existence I was currently living," I shared the enlightenment.
"What changed your mind?" Pierre's eyes lit up.
"I figured out their prime motivation, the nature of
the conspiracy and that I had no rational chance to escape them," I
answered. "Every angle I was figuring out, they had
figured out years ago. On the plus side, their core philosophy requires them to
engage men as equals for both biological and social reasons, which means they
are the best game in town. In case you missed it, the Vanishers didn't 'vanish'
me. I escaped on my own. They have agreed to join forces with my group; no
lie."
"Your group has a lot of girls," Lowry drolly
noted.
"Lowry, exactly how was I going to recruit any
male to my cause without dropping the entire Metropolitan G E D
(Gender Enforcement Division) on me?"
"Flyers?" Barabbas joked softly.
"He's got a point," Pierre rallied to my cause.
"As far as any of you have confessed, none of us had any guy, or girl,
friends. It is why we were selected."
"Okay, fine. Now what?" Lowry conceded to the
consensus.
"We wake up tomorrow working toward equality," I
huffed. "We are all going to have to learn to fight and shoot because the
entire group is going to be in danger for some time to come. Society, as in
Global Society, is going to come crashing down. And that means anarchy,
lawlessness and barbarism before it violently spasms off into extinction."
"We have lived our lives effectively as slaves, though
no woman inside that house will admit it truly in their hearts. For the first
time in our lives, we can change our futures. I'm sure if we surrender to
whomever kills the others, they will enslave us once more and leave us with far
fewer illusions about our status. Or, we can chose to fight and, if worst comes
to worst, die free. I'm not going back to what I was. That means I will need to
learn how to survive; and that means fighting. Not because I hate women, but
because there are several I love and respect and I don't want to let them down,
as their equal."
"Tonight, think about what I've told you. Tomorrow
morning, I hope you join up with us," I concluded my 'pep talk.’
"And if we don't?" Lowry stared defiantly.
"That is something you are free to do too," I
shrugged. "I'm not going to tell you what to do. Let's go back inside. It
is late."
We'd almost made it back when Lowry put a hand on my
shoulder.
"Can I see the gun now?"
"This thing? Like this?" I half-turned, made eye
contact then flick my eyes down to the pistol then back to him again.
"Yeah."
"Have you ever handled a loaded firearm before?" I
requested.
"Yeah, plenty of times, in my dreams," he mocked
me.
"You are a moron," I felt my blood simmering.
"This isn't a game, this (the pistol) isn't a toy, and you have
not been paying attention." I put both hands on the pistol,
removed the magazine then removed the chambered bullet. Lastly, ass-first, I
handed him the empty pistol with my left hand while keeping the ammunition in
my right.
"Moron, huh?" he chuckled. "Gonna give me the
bullets?"
"No, no, I'm not going to give you the bullets because
you don't know what you are doing. Unlike you, I actually have had a firearm
lesson. More to the point, I won't give you a loaded firearm because I think
I've stressed the lady, or ladies, watching over us right now enough for one night."
"Huh?" Lowry and Barabbas echoed. Pierre looked
around.
"Wes didn't keep us inside to play '20 Questions' for
her own amusement. She kept us occupied so her other teammate, or teammates,
could move to this side of the house, so they could watch over us while giving
you three the delusion we were alone. They are professionals in camouflage gear
with night-vision goggles, so unless they had to move rapidly through the
underbrush, we weren't likely to detect them."
"I played along because I felt it was necessary for you
three to open up a little bit. Life is only going to get tougher over the next
few months. None of us want to have a chat with heavily armed women staring
over our shoulders, so I took us outside where it would appear we were alone,"
I explained.
"You lied to us," Lowry snipped.
"No. My words were true. What I did was allow you to
deceive yourself as to our level of security and amount of company. I did what
I did for the good of the group, regardless of gender, Gentlemen. It is how we
all need to start thinking. Something else you might want to think about is:
everyone I love is with me here today. A good number of people who decided
getting in my way was a good thing aren't even alive anymore. I will gladly
embrace any one of you as brothers. If you are an obstacle, I will fucking see you gone, one way or another;
clear?"
"We are guys," Lowry insisted smugly. Old
thinking: women protected men.
"I; don't; care," I glared back. "You may be
a sperm-shooter, but inside me is the only surefire cure for the Gender Plague.
I repeat: people I love, and there are several, are all alive today because I
cared and took an active hand in their survival. My enemies are mostly dead.
Being a man will save you from the women in there. It won't save you from
me."
"You'd kill us?" Pierre whispered.
"Pierre, my Mother died over a year ago. Where are your
Mother and Sister? You don't give a damn about a single fucking human being and yet you expect me to
trust you? Why?" I challenged him. "I've already proved to multiple
people I can reach beyond my shell and give a fuck.
Until you rejoin the Human Race, I value the rest of those battling alongside
me far more than you, or anyone else regardless of whether they have a penis,
or a vagina. I'm not going to snap your neck, stab, or shoot you. I'm simply
not going to bother trying to save you. The World is doing a bang-up job of
killing the rest of Humanity off, without my assistance."
"I really ought to punch you," Lowry threatened.
"Give it your best shot," I took a step toward
him. That wasn't what he, or I, was expecting. I put down my poor judgment and
combative demeanor to exhaustion.
"Don't, guys," Barabbas interceded.
"You are an Asshole," Lowry snarled.
"And you are consistently ignoring reality," I
snapped back. "For instance, we are not alone out here, plus we are also
at the door." I knocked once. The door swung open to reveal a rather
attentive and unhappy Wes Prince. I handed her the bullet and magazine.
"You were listening in?" Lowry turned his anger on
her. Wes' eyes went from me, to him, out into the darkness then back to me,
though her words were to Lowry.
"Yes. Of course I was listening in. I wouldn't call him
an Asshole. I'd go for Smart-ass." To me, "Do you enjoy being
annoyingly correct?"
"No. I'd be ecstatic to realize I was completely wrong
about everything and had lapsed into a mad delusion," I related, my own
anger seeping away. "Being right means I have to keep appreciating and
respecting you and your compatriots and taking responsibility for my own clumsy
contributions to our current situation, which I don't want to do. I want to go
to bed."
"Come on in and go to bed then," she softened. She
made a slight hand gesture. "My pistol, please, Mr. Pritchard?" she
requested of Lowry. Grudgingly he gave her the firearm. She stepped aside.
Lowry went first, Barabbas second. Pierre gasped slightly because as he went up
the steps he noticed the two Vanishers coming toward us from outside, the ones
I had predicted to be watching us.
I went in after Pierre. Wes followed along. Capri and Kuiko
were waiting. The lights had already been dimmed throughout most of the rest of
the dwelling.
"Who were those other two guys?" Wes stopped me.
"Sergeant Major Daly was a Marine N C O and improv poet
renowned for his battlefield musings. His most famous philosophical insight
into the fighting spirit of men came in World War One. In his words "Come
on, you sons of bitches, do you want to live forever?" He also
won two Medals of Honor, so he must have had some talent."
"Company Sergeant-Major John Robert Osborn was a
Canadian; that was the country which now makes up the northern third of our
current Federation; who found himself misplaced on the island of Hong Kong in
late 1941; him, a handful of lads from Winnipeg and a shitload more Japanese.
He and the Japanese ended up in a game of grenade tag,”
"Grenade tag?" one of my two 'silent' guardians
interrupted.
"Yes, grenade tag. Apparently in the olden days,
grenades didn't airburst, or explode on impact. You pulled a pin and threw it
at the enemy, then waited for the fuse to burn out and the grenade to go
'Boom!.’ Quick, brave, and or stupid people could grab that grenade and toss it
back. In some cases, one grenade might make two, or three trips before
detonating."
"Anyway, the Japanese were so very rudely throwing
grenades into the position he and his Winnipeg Grenadiers were defending, so he
kept returning them. After eight and a half hours of such fun, he came across
one he couldn't toss back in time. He covered it with his body to shield his
comrades from the blast, dying instantly. The British Empire gave him something
called the Victoria Cross for his actions. He was the first Canadian in World
War Two to receive it."
"Why do you know such stuff?" she grinned.
"Oh, I'm Scar and this is Nat," she indicated the third member of the
Wes-Scar-Nat Vanisher trio.
"I considered myself a coward, so I read a lot about
brave men. I was kind of hoping to figure out how I could be brave myself, one
day," I disclosed.
"Mission success," the third one smiled. "Go
to bed."
I gathered up Capri and Kuiko and did as instructed. As I
rested my head on the pillow, lights out and my mind gratefully shutting down.
"Less impressive sex, Bitch," Capri teased.
"No," I groaned.
"They definitely think you've got the 'sexy',"
Kuiko enlightened me.
"Can we please just go to sleep?" I begged.
Capri rolled onto her side, back to me, gave me a bump in
the hip with her ass, then moved away a tiny bit. Kuiko wiggled close, kissed
me lightly on the cheek, and then did the same. Unconsciousness took me before
any other worries could steal my much needed slumber.
The Larger World:
As I struggled for sleep a second time, events unfolding in
three different places around the Globe (Asia, the City and the Capitol) would
impact my fate.
Asia:
First; the brutal agony still going on as the Sun
disappeared over the horizon wasn't over when I woke up the next morning. It
was largely misunderstood for some time afterwards, but was referred to as; the
Battle for Shanghai.
Five Chinese regular force divisions fought the garrison
division of Shanghai, its 'reserve' division, hastily gathered volunteer female
formations and a hodge-podge of ancillary forces the United Nations could throw
into the fray. The goal for both sides was to seize a mother and her unborn
child. Within them were the only other active resistant viral factory killing
the T2 Gender Plague. By the time I woke up, both sides were sure the other
side had killed them both, pretty much insuring the extinction of all sentient
life in Eurasia.
I say 'Eurasia' because by dusk of the previous day, the
Federation knew for sure I, the other source of a cure for the T2, was still
alive and kicking, as were my sons. My sons held a nebulous promise for a
future date. I was of immediate importance since my adult body could produce
enough antivirals to protect tens of thousands of people on a relatively
continuous basis, or so it was projected.
With, or without the mother and child, China was done for.
Japan and Korea were rapidly circling the drain. North of China, the Plague was
racing across Siberian Russia. Central Asia had never really recovered from the
first round of the Gender Plague all those years ago so, now off the beaten
path, would be longer in dying. India had too many outbreaks to even dream of
containment. Pakistan, Iran, Turkey and the Levant Republic all had reported
cases as well.
Europe:
Beyond the Urals, the Europeans were grappling with the
looming fear of a global economic collapse along with the Specter of Death
though 48 hours into the crisis, there were no cases to report yet. Civil order
was teetering. Several nations had either closed their borders, or were
considering doing so. Women began hording food, and men.
Africa:
South of the Mediterranean was more doom, gloom and
gathering dark clouds. There were outbreaks in Cairo, Nairobi, Cape Town and
Addis Abba. The North African Republic closed its border and even shot down a
commercial airliner which refused to return to Egyptian airspace. Their biggest
immediate problem was they didn't produce nearly enough food to feed
themselves. Starvation fears trumped unemployment. The pandemic trumped both.
Mid Atlantic:
Various islands like the Azores, Bermuda and Canaries became
Quarantine Zones; Plague free for the time being yet suffering from glaring
economic dependencies.
Southeast Asia, Australia, & Oceana:
Australia and New Zealand were in total lockdown mode;
nothing in and nothing out. A combination of cool relations with the rest of
the United Nations and the evacuation of much of Oceania after the Plague;
Round #1; had left those two nations surprisingly self-sufficient. Theirs was a
problem of numbers, or their lack thereof.
You see, forty-seven years ago, the government of Myanmar
collapsed as their armed forces disintegrated and rebel factions tore the
country apart. The anarchy spilled over the borders to eastern India,
Bangladesh, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam over the next eighteen months.
China, Indonesia and India did what they could to stem the tide, but they had a
host of homegrown problems themselves.
That summer and fall, Southeast Asia experienced seven
category 5 typhoons with winds exceeding 13 miles per hour. Two, back to back,
stomped all over the Philippines. There was never a complete accounting of the
lives lost. The resulting economic crisis broke the Philippine's back.
Indonesia, struggling with the disruptions in trade, an
influx of refugees and internal strife, had a military coup. More discord.
Somehow Malaysia found itself allying with the civilian government. The Free
City of Singapore was overrun, looted and virtually destroyed by the warring
factions. In the midst of this carnage, the tidal wave of human misery was
building to devastating proportions. In an act of either extreme callousness,
or desperate self-preservation, Australia closed its borders and sealed them
with lethal force exercised by their air and naval forces; no refugees allowed.
In a final indignity, thirty-eight years ago, two years
after the last gasp of the first Gender Plague, a major earthquake hit
Indonesia causing serious destruction and the worse tsunami on record. By that
time, only the northern islands of the Philippines had started rebuilding.
Indonesia and Malaysia existed as separate, multiple, mutually-hostile,
competing city-states and they were the 'good news' of Southeast Asia. All too
often, the recovery of the various former nations threatened to bring China and
India into conflict, so such efforts were shelved.
Move the clock forward to the present day and there was no
political entity north of Australia remotely strong enough to retard the
upcoming Global landslide into oblivion. Collectively those Asians knew Death
was radiating out of China and they had to do 'something' and all too often,
something meant getting on a boat, or a plane, heading south, to Australia, or,
if you had the capability, to New Zealand.
Unlike the disorderly mobs of two generations ago, some of
those 'refugees' had the firepower to 'fight' their way to freedom or safety. A
U N taskforce had been in the area suppressing piracy days earlier (it was now
racing toward Shanghai) and every major metropolis had its own marine
paramilitary. They were all island-nat
1 hr 13 min
June 30 Vanishing Manhood: Part 16
Vanishing Manhood:
Part 16
The end of the cruel Peace & the start of the desperate War.
Based on ‘One In Ten’ by FinalStand. Listen to the
► Podcast at Explicit Novels.

A
frightened Mother Mouse will devour her young; similarly, a frightened culture
will devour its future.
Roni was still working away while the rest of us were in the
man-cave once more. Flame seemed happy taking long pulls on the Wild Cherry and
smacking her lips. I wasn't surprised she wasn't worrying about Silent. Her
wounded comrade was a reliable pair of guns guarding her back and nothing more.
Emotional bonds were contrary to her psychopathic nature.
Jethro had been sitting on his 'throne' for fifteen minutes,
deep in thought.
"I guess it is about time we got those guns," he
announced as he stood up. His words captured everyone's attention yet he didn't
appear to care. He started walking from the room and the rest of us followed
along. The need for guns had brought us here in the first place.
His path led us into his walk-in pantry. One wall of shelves
rolled out and to the sides on seamless wheels. Beneath that spot was a steel
door, a tad over one meter wide and three meters long. It must have been
spring-loaded because once Jethro yanked on the hole that only one finger could
fit into, the portal swung open and back.
Stairs led down into darkness. Jethro turned around and
followed them out of sight for several seconds. Then a light came on. The drop
looked to be around four meters. Angel went next. A strange level of respect
allowed me to go third. Flame was at my back then Kuiko, Venus and Lavender.
The floor was grey-painted concrete. The room stretched out
five meters in each direction. 80% of the room was covered with stacked crates
with a variety of markings on them, a few even in English. Angel was incredibly
tense. I didn't know why, but I had a feel for her moods. The other 20% of the
room was an immaculate workbench.
Considering Jethro's aversion to cleanliness, this was
definitely something noteworthy.
"What is all this stuff?" Venus asked.
"Weapons," Angel preempted the old guy.
"This is an awful lot of weapons," Lavender
muttered. No one wanted to say it, so I did.
"Jethro, you were in the MRA, weren't you?" I
tossed out there. I'd told the nation that the MRA was dead and here I was
looking at a small armory of illegal weaponry. Jethro had been walking over to
the work area. He turned and looked us over.
"I'm going to do something I don't normally do,"
Jethro met each of our gazes.
"I'm going to explain myself. Let's pull some assault
rifles out of those crates, make sure they in top shape then go upstairs 'cause
I am only going to do this once," he stated.
"These people don't know how to use firearms,"
Angel cautioned angrily.
"They'll never learn if they don't have one and we are
approaching the point where we'll need everyone to be a shooter," he countered.
"Let's get to it."
And that's what we did. These weapons had been top rate
stuff at the start of the 21st century. Now, they weren't quite antiques, only
old. The basics of using some sort of explosive substance to propel an object
at your target remained the same. In the case of firearms, it was remarkably
the same, or so Angel said.
Kuiko went straight for the Russian-made Surface-to-Air
missile, because she thought that the Cyrillic writing looked pretty. It was
one of the few exotic devices. Most were clearly Federation military, or Police
issue, undoubtedly stolen from some armory at some point early in Jethro's
terrorist career.
I was irate that Kuiko looked so cute with a bandolier of
ammo packs and an automatic shotgun. Angel insisted that only she and Jethro
took loaded firearms upstairs. We could carry the gun and the ammo as long as
the ammo wasn't in the gun. Venus argued that this defeated the purpose of
having the weapon.
Angel countered that if she couldn't load it quickly, she
probably shouldn't have it in the first place. I caught Flame bagging up a few
boxes of ammunition, but Jethro didn't seem to care so I let it slide. It fell
to Flame and me to lug extra rifles and cartridge belts up to the rest of the
group, being the strongest, Angel was keeping an eye on Jethro and he was
keeping an eye on her.
Fifteen minutes later, we had gathered back in the spacious
dwelling space of our host. Jethro, on his throne, finished off a glass of Wild
Cherry and began his tale:
"I was seventeen and in high school when the Gender
Plague first broke out. I was quarantined for a month before the Supreme Court
decided it was illegal and set us men free.
I took the opportunity to enlist in the Navy, the U S Navy,
because of the man shortage when I was released. Went through Basic, the
Specialist School, I was a Damage Control Technician which meant I was a
fireman, then a second outbreak happened. I was quarantined for three months
this time.
I got out and was assigned to the destroyer Michael A.
Mansoor. During the Relief of Athens, we all damn near died. Of the eighteen
men and women in Damage Control, only me and one other rating enlistee
survived. My officer, an ensign, stayed behind to make sure the forward
ammunition storage was secure. Our Chief Petty Officer had us seal the ensign
in. We saved the ship long enough for the crew to be pulled off.
The Mansoor exploded. We were never able to locate her body.
She was some R O T C kid who was only with us four months. I never knew her
first name until the ceremony after it was all over. She may have been the
bravest human being I've ever known. After that, I served aboard the Little
Rock working anti-piracy in the Philippines and Indonesia.
Since I took part in some land action during that tour, the
Navy, I hate using the term Federation, reassigned me to Shore Patrol duty. I
took police training and everything. I did another tour aboard the Little Rock
the following year then they dragged me off when Congress decided that men
couldn't be given combat assignments.
Seven months later, they discharged me and thousands of
other men as part of a down-sizing program. Unfortunately, the same act of
Congress that exited me from the Navy also forbid me joining the fire, or
police departments. A buddy of mine was able to find me work in a machine shop
where I learned the craft of welding.
After that, I was a good boy. I dated, joined a motorcycle
club and built up a nice life. When the Gender Inequality Act was passed I was
more annoyed than angry. All that changed when I was twenty-nine. See, I had
some male friends who joined up with a group called Male Awakening. They were a
group devoted to the repeal of the G I A through political means.
Things including publically supporting male-friendly
candidates and working against G I A-supporters through boycotts and the like.
I was rolled up in an FBI sting and those ladies informed me that they'd make
those charges go away if I agreed to go inside and spy on Male Awakening. They
knew I was friends with those guys. I told them to fuck
off, fought the charges and beat their trumped up bullshit.
By the time I cleared up my legal troubles, they took the M
A down anyway. It seems their Treasurer took off with their funds after leaving
some financial irregularities. That was a total load of crap because they never
caught that guy, but they did manage to put away most of the group's
leadership.
A few months later, I ran across one of my buddies who had
asked me to join Male Awakening. He'd heard about my troubles and over a few
beers, he hinted that the fight wasn't over. This time I bought in. This
incarnation didn't have a name. We weren't public. We dug up dirt on corrupt
female officials by any means necessary.
We destroyed the careers of the worst oppressors of men.
Violence wasn't our aim yet we armed ourselves for what we knew would be a
harsh crackdown. We operated in small cells, but I knew we had lawyers, judges
and even a few Congresswomen on our side. Since we had bracelets by that time,
we used women to communicate between cells.
Our cell received word of the major Federation sweep, a day
before it happened. We were able to move most of our material stashes to new
locations before they fell on us. The Writs of Exclusion were abominations. No
one ratted me out. For weeks I sweated bullets every time I saw a cop car, a
mysterious unmarked car, or heard a siren.
After a few months, I began searching for other survivors.
We came together in secrecy, united in our fury. The Federation had broken
every law and covenant so we agreed that waging a guerilla war was our only
option. A week later I bagged my first cop. Put a bullet under her left eye at
80 meters. She was dead before she hit the ground and it felt good.
They, the Federation, had murdered my country and now they
were paying. Three days later, I waited for a Federation agent to walk out on
her porch to see her little girl off to school. I walked up, told the little
girl her mother was a whore and put nine slugs into that whore's body and I
felt just fine about that too."
"No," squeaked Kuiko.
"That is the way it was," Jethro gave Kuiko a
paternal look. "Those women came at me with every dirty trick they could
come up with to take away my freedom and I put them in the grave for it."
"You murdered people," Angel growled.
"Fuck you, Cop. The Gender Inequality Act was passed by
women to enslave men. No man ever voted on it," Jethro snarled. "Men
tried to use the system so you cheated. Boohoo that your bosses didn't figure
out our only option left was violent resistance."
"I killed seventeen government officials and my only
regret is I didn't kill more. Not one was a fair fight. Kuiko, I killed that
bitch in front of her daughter because I wanted her buddies to come around and
see the anguish on that little girl's face. I wanted them to worry about their
own daughters. I wanted them to know they were at war."
"You are a murdering scumbag," Roni snapped.
"I disagree," Flame shook her head. "You are
morons if you think he should have called out every freaking target and said
'hey, I know you have all the back-up in the world and I'm alone so I'm giving
you ample warning that I'm going to try and kill you.’"
"You are a psycho," Aniqua pointed out. "It
figures you would agree with him."
"He didn't have a choice," Samantha intervened. Her
speaking so decisively was almost as stunning as her words themselves.
"Having a gun might not have saved Israel against the Aurora Slasher, but
it might have discouraged those sorority students."
"The politics of payback," Flame laughed.
"Jethro might sound like some sadistic bastard to the rest of you; not to
me. His tactics are sound and they work. Kill enough cops and women stop
joining the force. The authorities either crack down harder, bringing more over
to your cause, or they concede to some of your demands."
"It is how a very small force fights a much larger
adversary," Flame concluded.
"That's still cold blooded murder," Angel
reiterated. I didn't know what to think. Jethro butchered defenseless women.
The President doomed millions. I admired what Zara did except it was some of
the same things that Jethro did, yet she was a soldier and he was a terrorist.
"There is no resolution to this argument," I spoke
clearly and loud. "Short of violence to silence the opposition, there is
nothing we can do to rectify the past now. Jethro, why did you stop being a
member of the MRA?"
"Spokane," Jethro answered. "I had no problem
with killing cops and Feds, and intimidating their families. They were part of
the problem."
"Those high school girls though, that made no sense to
me. We weren't at war with the female gender; we were at war with the
government and their policy of enslavement. Killing random kids was wrong and I
wouldn't be associated with it. I talked this over with my cell, they disagreed
and I told them that if I saw any of them again, I'd kill them," Jethro
clarified.
"I had several caches only I knew about. I waited a few
months then moved up to the city, slowly bringing everything up here as I had
the time. A year and a half later, my old buddy was caught up in a traffic
stop, shot it out with the cops and was killed. From stuff they found on his
body, he rolled up the rest of the gang, but the other members didn't know my
real name."
"The G E D came out and talked with me. They kept an
eye on me for a few years. I behaved and grew old so they eventually went
sniffing elsewhere. We wouldn't be here now if I hadn't gone drinking with
Kuiko and let slip about my gun stash," Jethro smiled at my little friend.
"I knew she'd never betray me, and she hasn't."
"Now I've got a front row seat to the End of the World
so I get one last chance to make a difference," he said. Yeah, this old
guy wanted to go down in a hail of gunfire, no doubt about it.
"Good for you, you butcher," Roni glared. "I
won't do this."
"I signed on to make a difference," she continued,
"not to hang out with cold-blooded killers. I'm out of here. Is anyone
with me?" Aniqua stood up. Venus seriously hesitated before joining them.
Venus was looking right at me. Angel's eyes were boring holes into me as well.
"Israel?" Angel inquired.
I could go with them. I could stay. I could beg them to
stay. I could stay silent and let events drag me along. My mind was playing
Jinga with the vortex of intellectual input and buzz saw emotions that were boiling
forth.
"Angel, Roni, Venus and Aniqua sit back down," I
stood and stated. It took them a varying number of seconds to realize I was Not
pleading.
"Israel, you don't get to decide that for us,"
Roni replied evenly. "We let you go to the Arena last night. This time, we
get to choose and we are leaving. If you are the man I hope you are, you will
come with us."
"At the same time you're pressuring me to give more to
the group despite my misgivings, Roni, you are giving less?" I countered.
She started to protest. I raised my hand for a reprieve.
"Hear me out," I continued. "It isn't that
simple. I am not questioning your moral quandary about working with people too
comfortable with taking human life. It is very real and I feel it. The
difference is that you would rather be right and dead than alive at any cost.
You've never had to make that call before, but I have and I'm alive to tell you
that you are wrong, Roni."
"You are dead wrong because dead does nothing. The
living can always come back and make something better. Hell, that's what my
life has been about the past week and a half. The rest of you are neophytes
going into this. I'm not. I know exactly what it takes morally to survive.
Don't make me follow any of you out that door. I love each and every one of
you."
"I do love you, but am I obligated to jump off a cliff
for you? I respect your choice to choose suicide. It would be wrong of me to
rob you of that freedom. Please don't try to make this about affection,
compassion, or loyalty though. It is a matter of life and death. Roni, you are
trying to kill me, which I'm okay with. I resent you killing Angel, Aniqua and
Venus," I stressed.
"That's fucked
up reasoning," Roni fought back. "Those two get off on killing other
people. They enjoy it. Why can't you see that they are just as likely to get
you killed as keep you alive?"
"I will agree with you that Flame gets off on watching
people suffer and die," I nodded. "It is the way she is. I don't know
Jethro so I'm not ready to make a judgment call on him."
"I do know that both of them have exquisite weapon
skills and I'm pretty sure we are going to need them before we are truly
free," I explained. "I would prefer an all-male super commando squad
who had passed every psychological test ever made. That doesn't appear to be on
the menu, so I'm willing to hold on to whatever resources are available."
"So you are willing to risk all our lives for the sake
of expediency," Angel glared.
"Absolutely," I shot right back. "In case no
one is paying attention, I am not in some government facility helping working
on some kind of serum to fight the new plague. In case you missed it, everyone
here agreed with my decision to flee instead."
"Roni, Angel, you do realize that young lady who saved
me this morning is going to die, right? I could have insisted she come with us.
I could have given her the cure. I didn't. None of you asked me to even after I
told the whole globe of an unstoppable wave of death coming for everyone. I'm
not asking you to take responsibility for my decision because it was
mine."
"I'm begging you; understand that it isn't the end of
morality to stay. When the madness ends, you need to decide if we will still be
worthy of continuing on. You'll no longer be part of that equation if you go
now," I declared.
"Are we supposed to ignore that he was a terrorist and
she is a homicidal maniac?" Aniqua said.
"I'm not homicidal," Flame grinned. "I'm a
psychotic sociopath. I don't randomly kill people. I do it with malice of
forethought." Jethro didn't show a desire to defend himself.
"Israel, Flame almost killed you last night,"
Venus pointed out. "Why would you stick around?"
Why was I sticking around?
"Israel, don't do this," Angel said. "You
promised me you would stop running into danger."
"Angel, why do you have to be right and I have to be
wrong?" I sighed.
"Because those two are dangerous criminals," Roni
answered. Didn't Roni understand that I was a far more callous killer than
either of those 'criminals' and I didn't have to lift a finger, or look at a
single grave?
Before the Curtain Call
Shortly after nine-thirty that night, the awaited and feared
seismic event happened in China. A few minutes past sunrise over Hong Kong the
rains broke and a fleet of helicopters and V T O Ls (Vertical Take-Off and
Landing) were heard over the city. Helicopters were not unknown in this center
of wealth and commerce. Well over a hundred all coming in at once was
noteworthy.
For many of the citizens of the city, it had been a restless
night. After midnight, police sirens had been wailing all over the city. Some
even heard gunfire. What they didn't know was that for the past four hours,
private security forces working for the most prominent communities and some
special police units had raided the middle class communities of the city and
stolen their men.
They forced the men into protective suits and hustled them
back to the high-rises that sheltered the most 'important' people. This was an
outrage that they could not get away with, had China still functioned normally.
A new order based on brutal social cannibalism was taking place. The rich were
taking their vassals and their new 'acquisitions' to their estates far from the
population centers.
This was supposed to be a gradual process except late
yesterday afternoon the other Great Families learned that one of their own had
their first reported case of this new 'flu.’ They could wait no longer. They
would have preferred to flee under the cover of darkness, but rain and the
danger of so many helicopters and V T O Ls moving around forced them to
postpone until first light.
You didn't have to be a connoisseur of conspiracy theories
to figure out what was going on. Men had been stolen and now the rich were
bugging out of town in one big hurry. Late Friday, the 'flu' began to appear in
the population in a big way. The workers in the hospital were afraid, not
fearful, afraid.
The councilwoman from one of the poorest districts called
the Head of the City Council, no answer. She called one of her colleagues from
one of the richest districts, no answer. She was a savvy polit
1 hr 22 min

About ExplicitNovels

From the publisher's feed

Welcome to the best works of emerging explicit romance authors. Explicit Novels daily Podcast presents long-format novels over a span of daily episodes. Subscribe to our podcasting channels.

Share ExplicitNovels

Sign up to save your podcasts

ExplicitNovels

ExplicitNovels episodes

About ExplicitNovels