Exigence Ep. 02

"Good girl."

"Thank you," she said earnestly.

Gripping the hem of her pants and underwear, I pulled the fabric down her thighs to reveal her pussy. If you blinked, you'd miss it. The slit was a perfect line, straight and tight. The amount of precum leaking from my cock proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that I craved her body -- that I wanted to be inside her. I pulled out my erection, feeling immediate relief as it became free of constraint. I wanted to settle into that feeling first, letting it all hang out for a few seconds.

Running my fingers along Tec's pussy, I was reminded again of how wet she was. It was incredible. The rhythmic snap and pop of the fire slowed my heartrate further, and I gently rubbed my sister to the tempo of the crackling wood.

"You've never been this wet before," I smiled.

Tecla arched her back a little.

I turned to Elle. "Look at how wet she is, sis."

The twins had been experimenting with each other, walking a slow road to being more intimate. There were almost no barriers left, but you could always sense a little bit of holding back. Taking Elle's hand, I brought it to our sister's soaking pussy and guided her to play with it.

"Wow," she mouthed, looking at me with amazement. She put her free hand between her legs, gauging her wetness. Then, she smiled in that naughty-nice way only she could. "I think I'm even worse," she said.

I let go of Elle's hand so that she could pull down her pants. She laid back and parted her knees, allowing me to see for myself. Her pussy was exactly like her sister's -- a barely visible innie that seemed to exist for me and me alone.

She was glistening.

Turning my attention back to Tecla, I wanted to be inside her more than I wanted to breathe. As I did exactly that -- as I pushed inside her and became encased in her tightness -- I thought again about all the big brothers who weren't out there fucking their little sisters. I felt incredibly sorry for them.

Tec wasn't humping the air anymore. She was still and present and mindful, letting her body and soul submit to the feeling of my cock slowly going deeper and deeper until it was down to the hilt. Once that happened, her hips started moving slowly. Her eyes flung open, her head pivoted forward, and the arch of her back deepened. Her body was begging to be used, to be pounded, to be pummeled and jackhammered.

My first thrust was the hardest, and Tecla lost her balance as the sudden action reverberated through her bones. I started fast and kept going faster until her toes curled and her voice broke, and she came hard all over my cock.

My ego was high -- of course it was -- I had the incredible feeling of my sister's pussy pulsing with pleasure around my cock. She'd called me her god, and I thought I could move mountains. So, I not only kept going at her, I rubbed her clit and commanded her to cum some more.

"Squirt for me, sis," I said.

Tecla's ears perked up, and she steeled her body... She'd never done it before.

"C'mon, Tec, squirt for me," I commanded, pumping my cock in and out of her pussy as I rubbed the sensitive little bundle of nerves that controlled so much of the female psyche. The sound of skin against skin, wetness and sex was punctuated by grunts and groans as our bodies pushed their limits.

My sister moved her hips like she wanted me to grab them, and I did.

"Squirt for me, baby," I growled, fucking her hard.

Tecla found her voice. "I'm going to do it, Olly. I'm going to squirt for you, bro!"

"Do it!"

"I'm going to fucking do it!" she cried, her voice cracking and groaning and twisting from side to side as her tummy shuddered and her limbs burned. Then, it happened... Tecla came harder than she'd ever done before.

She squirted.

I made my very own sister squirt.

The feeling was overwhelming.

One last time, I felt sorry for the brothers and sisters who didn't live like us.

Shuffling back on my knees, there was disbelief in the air. Had that just happened?

I turned to Elle, and she stared back at me with her lips parted and eyes wide. I let her stupefaction subside before taking her hand and pulling her towards her sister. This time, she didn't need much guidance as she grabbed her tired twin's pert ass and started tonguing Tec's pussy. She licked in long and slow laps, curious, careful, and very much like the sweet girl she was at heart. It was only when I saw a drop of silky white spunk land on her tongue that I realised I'd cum too...

Looking down, I saw my cock was still hard. Sure, it was throbbing and happy, but I had a lot more left in the tank.

I got behind Elle, slipping a finger into her cunny (then a second). She was wet as wet could be, having waited too long and too patiently to feel what her sister had felt moments before. I pushed into her pussy, feeling the warmth and comfort. She liked it slower, gentler, more lovingly... Tecla preferred showing off and playing a little rough.

It might have been hours -- I wouldn't mind if it had been days -- but I loved Elle the way she wanted to be loved for as long as we could last. In the end, when we both felt our climaxes coming, I pushed myself deep inside her, and we came together.

03 • Arms and the Man

The following day, I left the girls to plan their birthday party with the help of Mr Rubbenheimer. With him and most of the other staff distracted, I set off on a little mission...

Anya's room looked like it hadn't been lived in.

My sisters' enigmatic bodyguard was a shadow, a spectre, a whisper... I found her standing by a window, staring at the Bavarian countryside as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. She had dark hair, but not black. A combination of light freckles and soft cheeks made her look far younger than she must've been. Sometimes she looked short, sometimes she seemed tall. The only thing you could truly fix about her appearance was that she seemed capable of controlling the way people perceived her.

I intruded gently on her scribbling. "Writing a shopping list?"

"Planning," she answered, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"Planning for what?"

"For if we're attacked from the east."

"I see... Do you think that's likely?"

"No, but I should have a plan nonetheless. It's good to always understand your surroundings. It's why I study maps and blueprints. New York, London, Tokyo... London especially. I have plans for all of them, just like I'm making a plan for here."

Turning to me, Anya looked into my eyes with self-control that could kill a man. She had perfect command of all her faculties in a way that only Shaolin Monks could dream of achieving. She was an impressive operator, despite her obsessive qualities. The murkiness of her past and the legends surrounding her career were almost too good to be true, but I'd seen her in action. She was everything people said, and most of them said she was insane.

"Are you up for an adventure?" I asked.

Breaking her concentration, Anya quirked an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"I want to find out what's been keeping Mr Enquist so busy. You could help me have a look through his office."

Anya perked up, grinning. "Sounds fun."

Pulling on her coat, my freshly recruited companion was eager for a bit of excitement after what had been a tame few weeks. We headed into the snow towards the building that housed Artemis Enquist's private rooms. No one had entered or left the building since we'd arrived. The guard out front was liable to disappear occasionally (sneaking off to call his sweetheart or smoke a cigarette).

"Have you noticed any cameras since we arrived here?" I asked. "You'd think a man like Enquist would have them all over the place, but I've yet to spot a single one."

"Would you put cameras inside your own house?" Anya asked. "Cameras that are vulnerable to cyber-attacks and might record certain indiscretions? People like him are incredibly aware that any digital security measure can be turned against its owner by a skilled hacker."

"Good point," I conceded.

Anya nodded. She thought so too.

Arriving at the building's door, I noticed no one was around. It seemed a little too easy, with nothing between us and Enquist's private residence except an ordinary-looking door. The lock was digital, with a small screen that required a passcode.

"It's probably unhackable," Anya remarked, removing a tiny screwdriver from her coat pocket. I kept watch as she quickly pulled the front off the digital panel. An ordinary lock behind the screen acted as a failsafe in the event of power loss.

Anya produced a small leather wallet. I should've guessed picking locks was part of her skillset, but her speed still impressed me. It took her about fifteen seconds to defeat the mechanism, open the door a fraction, and slip through. Once we were both inside, we closed it behind us and had a look around.

The room we entered was dark and warm. Anya switched on the lights, revealing a bland lobby with tarps over the furniture. If Artemis Enquist had ever lived there, he certainly wasn't living there anymore.

"I guess they lied about him being here," I decided.

"Don't rush to conclusions," my companion cautioned. "I have a strange feeling we don't know half of what's been happening around here. This is supposed to be the centre of his empire, but where are all the people? Aside from a few domestic staff and Rubbenheimer, we haven't seen anyone."

"Maybe Enquist is dead," I mused absent-mindedly.

Proceeding into the next room, we found the stairs and decided to make our way up. As we climbed, the air grew colder and the darkness deeper. Suddenly, we heard a faint sound, like a door creaking open. We froze, listening intently. After a moment, the sound faded away, and we continued up the stairs.

Finally, we reached the top floor, where a single doorway awaited us. It was grand and old, like something you'd see at the Palace of Versailles, but less well-maintained.

"This place feels haunted," I remarked.

"Fortunately, I've performed more than one exorcism in my time."

"Of course you have..."

"You know," Anya continued, "I was once hired by the Vatican to deal with a very sticky problem--"

Before she could finish her story, the door ahead of us rattled violently. It frightened me, but Anya looked at it with casual disinterest and a total absence of fear. We took a second to reset and proceeded to the next room, pushing open the doors.

We were now in what looked like the beginnings of a private office. The furniture was modern, the lights were on, and the decor comprised a large reception desk and some seating for visitors. At the back were immense glass security doors, which I knew we couldn't penetrate, even with all of Anya's skills.

"We might as well look around this part of the office," I declared, and Anya nodded.

There were two trays for papers on the desk -- an outbox and an inbox. The latter was empty, but the other held a thin dossier due to be sent away for some executive's consideration. The cover read simply: Disollution of Company.

I picked up the file and paged through its contents, relying on the knowledge I'd worked up during my time as a corporate lawyer. "He's wrapping everything up. Selling it all."

Anya frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"Quitting while he's ahead, perhaps. Regardless, this information is priceless... We could play the market and make millions."

"That would be unethical," my co-burglar grinned. "C'mon, we need to find out more. I'm curious now."

The drawers of the reception desk were locked, but Anya made quick work of them. She found a day planner filled with cryptic entries that only the secretary who'd made them could fully understand. However, it was easy enough to unpick what the 'MD' at 9 AM every Tuesday referred to.

"So, he's got a weekly doctor's appointment..."

Closing the book, I decided we'd done enough snooping. If the man was sick and wanted to keep it private, I had to respect that.

Anya was less willing to step away. "What kind of doctor? Are we sure it's for himself, or could it be for research?"

"It's none of our business," I asserted, putting the diary away.

Despite ostensibly being my employee, Anya didn't respect the chain of command much. She pushed me aside as she went digging through the last untouched drawer. Inside, she discovered an address book and began reading the names of every doctor she could find, hoping to figure out which one might be Mr Enquist's regular appointment.

"How do you plan on narrowing it down?" I asked, accepting I wouldn't be able to restrain her curiosity (or mine).

"The appointments only started four weeks ago, so I'm looking for the freshest ink."

"I see..."

I shouldn't have doubted my companion's abilities because she quickly found a likely character and searched his name on her phone's browser. "Dr Bernard Cipla, the University of Bern. He's not a practising doctor, nor does he seem to be actively teaching. Yet, he remains a leading expert on biological weapons."

I felt a shiver run down my spine. "Bio-weapons?"

I knew Enquist had worked in the defence sector but never thought he'd stoop so low. Again, Anya discouraged me from jumping to conclusions. "It might not be what it looks like," she said.

I couldn't help but feel an intense weariness.

"Time to leave," I declared, and we cleaned up after ourselves.

Our exit was as seamless as our entry. Once in my bedroom, I poured myself a glass of sherry and settled on a large armchair near the window. The snowcapped battlements outside evoked a new kind of awe as I pondered the hellishness of being and the moral depravity of our species.

I'd genuinely admired Enquist as an innovator and a man. Now, I felt the exact opposite of admiration.

Albert Einstein once said, "It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity."

I couldn't help but agree with the sentiment as thoughts of carnage flickered through my mind like the warm embers of a cruel fire. Then, a thought crossed my mind...

Artemis Enquist was exactly the sort of man you'd expect to be a member of the Doomsday Archive.

• • •

Alicia gave me my newly restored Colt 1903 Pocket Harmless pistol. It was an eccentric choice for everyday carry, but the little handgun was superbly accurate, light and concealable.

"Are we expecting trouble, sir?" my chief of staff asked.

"I just like being prepared," I replied, deciding not to share my suspicions about our host.

Alicia would've had us on a plane and out of the country the instant I told her about my foray into housebreaking and my suspicions about our host. That might have been wise, but I still wanted to meet Enquist. After all, how else would I be able to judge the man?

That could be my great defect: I'm so intent on knowing people. Hell, I might just be self-righteous.

Either way, I wanted a face-to-face with the man. I wanted to understand him and perhaps even evaluate him.

Of course, there was also the matter of my sisters' birthday... They'd gotten into the organisation, and cancelling the plans would be a cruel blow.

"Have they sent out invitations?" I asked.

"Yes, sir."

"And we've had positive replies?"

"Of course, sir. We have arranged private jets to ferry the guests, along with accommodation. The ballrooms are being decorated as we speak, and they're heating the indoor pool. The first wave of arrivals will be here tonight."

"Fantastic," I said, feeling a sense of relief. "Let's try to make it a memorable celebration. I want the best of everything -- spare no expense."

Adjusting my suit jacket, I checked my watch and realised I had nothing planned for the next hour.

"Let's have lunch, Alicia."

"Sir?"

"C'mon," I encouraged, "just you and me."

Alicia's lips hinted at a smile, but she quickly regained her stoic cool. We made our way to the dining room we'd been using during our stay and rang a bell to summon a servant. The young man took our orders to the kitchen, and I poured us some drinks.

"Whiskey? Sherry? Vodka?"

Alicia smirked. "You should consider cutting back on the booze now that you're walking around armed."

"You think I drink too much?"

"Yes... Sir."

I poured myself a whiskey and my friend some water. "Maybe you're right," I said, raising my glass to her. "But let's not worry about that now. We so rarely get to spend time together."

"I spend most of my time with you," Alicia retorted.

"Working, yes. Work, work, work... It's all you and I ever do. We should take up a hobby together. Maybe we can rebuild an old engine or learn how to fly a plane."

Alicia gave a small smile. "I don't think you have the patience for that, sir."

"Maybe you're right," I said, sipping my whiskey. "But we should do something fun together. Life is too short to squander a beautiful kinship like ours."

Alicia nodded, and we fell into a comfortable silence while waiting for our food to arrive.

As we ate, I couldn't help but steal glances at Alicia. Now and then, I'd catch her doing the same, and we nearly got the giggles as we tried to avoid detection. She always seemed so calm and composed, making it all the more special whenever the professional facade crumbled and she revealed something of her soul.

Once we finished our food, we sat back in our chairs and looked at each other almost absent-mindedly. There was no curiosity behind our eyes -- no feeling of any sort -- but an openness and empathy that transcended emotion and made us look at each other as though we were staring into a mirror.

"I... I admire you," I said.

Alicia blushed. "And I you, sir."

"Do you get enough rest, Alicia? Are you happy?"

"Sir..."

"I only ask because... Because I care. I really do care, much more than--"

"Sir," Alicia cleared her throat, "I know. You don't have to say it."

Nodding pensively, I swallowed hard and brushed the table with my fingertips. "You don't like talking about it."

"It?"

"The thing that follows us around -- the energy that buzzes around my head whenever we're alone. I don't know what to call it, but I know you feel it too."

Looking down at her lap, Alicia took a deep breath and braced herself. "I think you've had a bit too much to drink, sir."

Wagging my half-empty whiskey glass at her, I wasn't so easily thrown off. "You wound me, Ms Le Roux, but you can't bullshit a bullshitter."

Alicia rolled her eyes and smiled warmly. "Yeah, fine... I just don't want to talk about it, sir."

"Oliver," I corrected. "You're not some junior housekeeper or administrative clerk. You're my closest advisor. You have saved my life more than once, and I'm proud to call you my friend. You don't have to call me sir."

I was walking a fine line. Alicia had built her walls high for a reason, and she'd only open the gates a little bit at a time. Pushing too hard was a surefire way to wreck our relationship, so I held back.

When the servant came to clear our plates, it gave me time to rub my chin and think. "I'm sorry, Alicia," I said. "Sometimes I get carried away."

"It's hard not to," she replied quickly. "After all, there is that buzz that fills the air whenever we're alone together..."

I raised an eyebrow, happy to hear her admit it. "What do you think causes it?"

"Fate," she answered. "It's caused by inevitability driving together two people born on different continents, raised in different countries, and forcing them into one big fight for their lives."

"Or, it could just be overwhelming sexual chemistry," I teased, making Alicia chuckle.

"Men," she snorted, getting to her feet. "Thank you for lunch, sir. We should do it again sometime, but I must get back to my duties now."

"Of course," I accepted, rising instinctively as she stood. "If you ever need a friend or someone to talk to, I'm always here. No expectations; no funny business."