Hardship Troopers

Max was sitting at her table in the sub-basement, bathed in the red glow of the lighting system, when she heard little Valencia's muffled giggles. She put down her book and set down her glass, which was half-full of an exotic, bright green liquor, and stood up. She followed the distant giggles out of the sub-basement and moved into the hallway, slowing her pace the closer she got to Cam's office. She could hear the indecipherable ramblings of Cam and his ilk; cheery voices and boisterous laughs interspersed with Valencia's adorable chortles.

Max stood at the edge of the hall and peeked through the glass partition into Cam's office. She could see the tight-knit family rallied close together, talking, joking, giggling, all smiles. She noticed Cam sitting at his desk holding the adorable infant in his arms, his parents, and then she immediately noticed Amy.

For some reason she focused on Amy, her fair skin, lustrous auburn hair, shimmering emerald eyes, breath-taking smile and a healthy, voluptuous figure. Amy had a borderline Rubenesque body, with all the curves of a natural beauty; a bountiful bustline, slight belly and a plump rear-end.Max had an involuntary mental image of a nude Amy riding Cam cowboy-style, her breasts flopping around as she energetically squirmed on his rigid cock. Max curled her lip, unimpressed, and turned away, heading back to the sub-basement.

Cam's family stayed for a few days at one of the four-star hotels in the tourist district, which was noticeably more maintained and aesthetically sophisticated than the service and production sections of the station. The tourist district was, by design, a well-manicured core of shimmering towers and multi-colored botanical gardens surrounded by the grimy, drab, rusted industrial dreariness that was the bulk of the station. Cam envied his family. After he dropped them off at the hotel that night he had to go back to his comparatively slummy abode. Not necessarily slummy for him, since he'd accepted its quaint, homey charm. But, after being in one of the four-star joints it took a few hours to get accustomed to the meager living arrangements provided by the company again.

*****

As soon as it had seemingly began, the family get-together was over. As Cam watched the shuttle carrying his family arch back towards the vast blue marble which was Arceus, he felt the looming shadow of dread sweeping over him again. He knew now that all he had to look forward to was the unmerciful and unsympathetic scowl of Max. He tried not to think about it.

Strange as it sounds, Cam's unshakable, masochistic fascination with Max endured. He found himself now vigorous masturbating in the shower to visions of her. Over time he'd trained his mind to bend his imaginary, mentally projected Max to his will. Eventually, he had free reign of the sexual fantasies that she starred in. He manipulated her into every position imaginable and had her conceding and willingly complying with his every carnal demand. Obviously a far cry from the icy-hearted and steel-plated real thing.

During sleep, his mind ran rampant and the dreams were so powerful and violently vivid that he woke up to find himself convulsing in sexual release several times a week, coating the insides of his boxers with copious amounts of his sticky ejaculate.

When at work, the idea that the subject of his fantasies was mere feet away was both exciting and disconcerting.

Max, meanwhile, had spent the days since her last confrontation with Cam frustratingly conflicted. She could for the life of her understand why Cam said the things about her to corporate that he did. He didn't have to. He could've blown her out of the water in an act of karmic vengeance. Instead, he basically covered for her. It was one of the few times in her life that someone had acted in a way that contradicted her expectations for them. Typically, her gut instinct was spot on, but her instincts lately seemed to have become static and complacent, unchanging. To her everyone was an enemy until they proved otherwise. Someone was bound to surprise her eventually. Also, for some reason, the image of Amy riding Cam had stuck in her mind. It annoyed her and she didn't know why. Like a song stuck in her head it followed her around, from job to job, from repair site to repair site. Even at home, while in the shower, or in bed, the image of Amy's full, swollen breasts heaving as Cam agonizingly drilled into her was burned into her memory. She tried to pass it off as something harmless, a self-imposed punishment for some repressed memory. She was making excuses now, excuses that she actually felt threatened by.

*****INSERT -- Cam talking to his mom about transferring because of Max. She approves. After his parents leave, Cam has a drink at Anchorpoint with Archie. Cam tells him he's finally decided to file for a transfer. Archie confronts Max the next day and "congratulates" her for forcing Cam to want to transfer. At the end of that work day, Cam sends out the transfer request to corporate. Max confronts him about it, berating him for "being a pussy about it". Cam is calm, though, and just walks out. She goes to his home hours later and, in her way, tries to coax Cam into reneging on the transfer request. He refuses, citing that it'll be better for both of him if she had a different manager. She gives up, leaving. But she ends up going back to the office, hacking into the system and erasing the sent transfer request. She tells him about it in the morning, to his surprise, and she promises to "tone it down" if he forgets about the request. He finally concedes.

*****

Cam's anxiety over asking Max for help slowly began to subside. He knew that when a terminal was acting up it was only a business decision to request her assistance. He didn't feel compelled to worry anymore. It was as if they'd come to a mutual agreement for the sake of simplifying their working relationship.

Early one work shift, a power cell in his office shorted out killing all the tech and rendering his ability to do his job impossible.

He went into Max's cavernous dwelling, moving with a renewed confidence. "Hi, Max. Sorry to bother you," he said as she noticed him, looking up from her book. "I think a power cell shorted out in my office. Could you take a look?"

Max rose, striking a rebellious pose. "The company needs to invest in some new shit. Stuff around here is constantly breaking," she said as she strided past Cam.

"I think it's cheaper to pay you to fix the old stuff than it is to invest in new equipment." Cam said, following Max up the stairs through the access panel. He had a perfect view of her ass and was spellbound by the way her hips sashayed ever so gently as she walked. He delighted in watching her rear end jiggle with each step she took. As his eyes trailed up her back he unexpectedly made eye contact with her. She'd been looking over her shoulder, watching him watching her. "No offense," he said. "You probably make more than I do."

She conceded, not busting his balls for obviously checking her out.

Once they made it into his office, she got onto her knees and unlatched the floor panel underneath his operator's chair. Discarding the panel, she revealed his local system's power core, which was a series of power modules plugged into a network of cells. She reached in and started fiddling with each fist-sized module, checking to see for loose connections. Unbeknownst to her, her cute little crack peeked out from over her dungaree's waistband, which Cam was thoroughly examining. He just stood behind her, taking in the view of her peach-shaped ass wiggling as she leaned forward, reaching into the exposed terminal core.

As she stood up, he straightened and looked away, trying to conceal his childish gaiety. Max reached into her tool belt, pulling out a small device that she accidentally dropped. She bent forward at the waist, stretching to pick up the device and inadvertently jutted her ass out in the most gracefully sensual manner possible. She did it in a way that Cam, mouth now agape, wondered if she choreographed it or not. Grabbing the tool, she slithered back erect, shifting her hips with subtle grace and nearly driving Cam over the edge.

Max did it intentionally, of course, realizing that he was standing behind her for a reason. She decided to have a little fun. Getting back on all fours again, she used the hand tool to latch onto the module she suspected was faulty. As she jiggled it, her ass, which was now jutting up in the air, jiggled in concert. "These modules, after awhile, if they're not maintained, they get stuck tight in there and you really need to jerk it to yank it out of there," she said with a forced exhale as the module came loose.

She stood up and showed him the fried module clasped in the metallic jaws of her hand tool. "The guy who installed them really had them jammed in there hard. Then it becomes my problem to deal with it, right?"

He smiled charmingly. "I hate having to disrupt your book club down there, but sometimes I worry you're dead or something. You're quiet as a mouse."

She could tell in his eyes that he was playing with her now. "It's what I get paid for, though, right? Having to endure your constant interruptions," she said with a wily grin, an eyebrow arched.

"See? I'm not such a bad guy once you get to know me. We give each other purpose. I fuck something up and you get to fix it. Perfect symbiotic relationship," he said, plucking the burnt out module from her tool and tossing it into the trash chute.

Max fed off of this kind of thing. She didn't know how to react to the apologetic, sniveling Cam, but this newly rejuvenated and confident Cam, she could bounce jibs off of. "I don't believe in perfect relationships, but you do your share of fucking things up," she quipped with impish guile.

She turned back to the open floor panel and drew out a pristine, unused power module from her belt, kneeling down and giving Cam back that view his mind was feverishly recording into the recesses of his long-term databanks. He could stare at her ass all day and night. If there was a holovision network that was just an unending loop of footage of Max's globular cheeks swaying back and forth, he'd order the monthly subscription.

"So, you're not your usual whiny self. You get a personality transplant?" she asked.

Cam couldn't see her face, so he basically glared at her magnificent rump as he responded. "Umm, no. Had family come into town for a few days. Kind of upped my spirits a little bit. Hadn't seen 'em in months."

Max firmly socketed the module into the empty slot which glowed yellow as it powered up. Seeing her handiwork successful, she pushed herself up, resetting the floor panel and standing up. "I noticed. Mom, dad... bet you guys had a white picket fence around your perfect house when you were growing up, huh?" she asked, snidely jocular.

"Not quite. But it was enough. I had no complaints," he said with a knowing smirk.

"Cute kid, too. Good thing it looks like your girl and not you," she said, still jabbing him.

"My girl? That's not my girl. That's my sister. Thanks for the horrible mental image, though. The kid is my niece, her daughter," he corrected.

Some deep, dark recess of Max actually exuded relief. It was a reflex she didn't quite understand. "So, you're not the dad?"

"Nope." he nodded.

"Lucky kid." she said, on a roll, walking out and making sure she strutted just perceptibly enough that he'd notice. If he didn't know any better, she was actually flirting with him.

When she got back inside the safe confines of her subterranean 'bitch cave', Max was unmistakably grinning. For the first time since she started working in the department, she had found something worth looking forward to.

Now that she knew she had some sway over Cam, torturing him throughout the work shifts with seductive little prances at select times when he happened to be looking would do plenty to break up the boredom of having to stare at lines of digital code all day. The prospect of future teasing gave her a high that was unfamiliar. She had to admit to herself that the little back and forth with Cam in his office was curiously exhilarating.

She realized she could trash those insipid mental images of Amy riding Cam into her mental garbage chute. Amy was off her enemy combatant list now, considering she was just a harmless new mother and not the perfect princess wife/girlfriend of her boss,Cam, who she had concocted a personal, unwarranted vendetta with. Although, Max had to ask herself why she'd put Amy on that shit list of hers to begin with. Was it jealousy? Did it have something to do that it was Amy who was riding Cam in her fantasies and not her? Of course not. It couldn't be. She didn't allow herself to delve into that and complicate her mental state further.

Max's impenetrable exterior was involuntarily softening and she knew it. Her pre-conceived notions about Cam, her gut instincts, everything that helped her survive up until now, they were all betraying her. Sure, he was a little twerpish at times, but, like he said, he wasn't such a bad guy once you got to know him. She ruminated more on it, realizing that he wasn't bad looking, either. In a strange way, he had a quirky, adorable weakness to him that was appealing. It was a type of soft and inexperienced vulnerability that she wasn't used to. Then, she wondered what it'd be like to kiss him. She figured he'd probably be really anxious the second her lips touched his. Her exaggerated assumptions created a scenario where he came in his pants the second she slipped her tongue into his mouth.

Suddenly, Max realized the unholy nature of her ruminations and pulled her day-dreaming mind out of the clouds, wanting to kick her own ass for allowing herself to entertain the thoughts she'd just entertained.

Cam was an annoying little insect she needed to feel squirm under her boot heel. That was the just state of things, not this conciliatory gobbledgook about him possibly possessing attributes worthy of acknowledgement and, with the correct combination and quantity of hard liquor, a body worth exploring... with her mouth. With that thought, the devil on Max's shoulder had to climb across the back of her neck and stomp the angel on her other shoulder into unconsciousness. This crap just couldn't stand. What was wrong with her? Why was she allowing these thoughts to form into anything significant?

Then again, none of her intellectual strongarming could explain why Cam gave her such a glowing evaluation, especially if he knew she'd never know what he told corporate. He had nothing to gain. It didn't get past Max's logic mine field.

That night, as Max slept, her eyes fluttered chaotically. Her mind was a raging sea of sounds and images. In her mind's eye, she could see herself, her nude body writhing an heaving, her sweaty bosom dripping with perspiration and her face clenched in exaltation. Beneath her was an equally nude Cam, who achingly drove his hips up, driving his manhood into her as she wailed wildly. Max's loins were throbbing under her sheets. She was breathing heavily now, arching her back, her whimpering moans growing more labored.

In the dream, Max gave herself over to the passion and pleasure that washed over her. Cam tensed beneath her, expelling his fiery, urgent fluids into her. Suddenly, she awoke, snapping out of the dream only to realize that she was uncontrollably convulsing, overcome with rippling waves of lust that forced her to orgasm. She panicked, unable to quell the throbbing torrent that seized her body. As she bucked, her arrhythmic panting grew more labored and uncontrollable until the climax subsided and her body stopped shaking. Max's chest was heaving as she sucked in the oxygen, desperate to recover from the earth-shaking orgasm. She'd never experienced something so violently intense. Her wide eyes scanned the bed, noticing that the sheets under her crotch were now soaked with vaginal secretions.

Max stripped off her soiled panties and the sheets and hopped into the shower. As the hot water rained down on her, she realized that her hands were still trembling ever so slightly. The dream was that intense. As she washed the sweat and cum off of her firm body, her mind was spinning. That hardcore mental barrier she'd projected to ensure the fear and respect of others was showing cracks. It was almost as if it represented an aspect of her personality that was now more of an albatross that a protective measure. It was holding her back.

Unable to sleep, Max stayed up, contemplating everything that had happened recently. She went over all the insults, the jabs, the dirty looks, the unwarranted problems she'd thrown at Cam. Guilt started to worm its way into her mind. She had reasons why it was better to be disliked than embraced. They were personal to her. She didn't like having this internal dialogue, this internal conflict. Introspection wasn't something she excelled at. It wasn't her forte.

Max typically wore her emotions on her sleeve and never left anything to interpretation. She was more than happy to spell out something loud and clear, usually with expletives and impolite gestures of the body. She was more than what she wore on her sleeve, though. As much as she hated to admit it, she was far more complex than that, and far deeper.

What better to do when you're kept awake by sexual fantasy-induced insomnia but punish your body? That's what she did. An assortment of free weights, plyometric equipment and resistance bands littered her otherwise well-organized living quarters. Wearing nothing but a pair of barely there panties, she went to work, trying to purge the image of Cam grunting underneath her, struggling to unload his filthy seed into her.

The brain she'd trained to submit to the will of her heart agreed that those intrusive images were an abomination. Her body, though, betrayed her. For as the images ran rampant through her mind, hijacking her thoughts beyond her best efforts, her body reacted. Her nipples hardened, her breath quickened, her heart pounded, blood engorged her pubis, swelling her labia as her tender canal ran slick with desire. Anxiously, she ran the gamut of push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, dumbbell curls, jump rope, all aimed to distract her from those obvious nagging images that had, just hours ago, awakened her, forcing her to orgasm. Within a short time her body was glistening again, inside and out. A thin sheen of sweat coated her while her panties grew more and more damp from the seeping secretions.

The vigorous exercise triggered an unexpected response. Instead of quelling Max's hormonal tempest, the increased blood flow drove her into a sexually-fueled hysteria. She dropped the dumbbells she'd just used to do a set of curls and hurried over to her bedside night table, impatiently yanking out the drawer. Inside was a thick, turqoise-colored rubber dildo.

Seemingly both angry and lustfully insatiable, Max threw herself onto her back on the bed, her chest still heaving from the workout, kicked off her panties and slid the lengthy phallus easily into her tight, dewy slit. Biting her lip and thrusting her hips up into the dildo, she furiously fucked herself, violently shoving the rubber cock in and out of her sodden pussy. Static images of the Cam from her dream, possessed by carnal mania, invaded again. As she pumped the dildo in and out of herself, she kept seeing his face; teeth grinding, sweaty brow, ready to expel his warm seed into her. This only helped to further her delirium.

At this point, Max was already on the verge of cumming. Gritting her teeth through the excruciating episode, she drove the dildo in faster and harder until it was nearly a blur. Drops of pussy juice were inadvertently being flicked onto the sheets as she energetically jabbed the thick false cock into herself. The juice was constantly dribbling out of her now, the flood of passion building up in her, threatening to blow.