Some Kind of Tragedy Pt. 04

Looks like she's staking a claim too. Herbie smiled to himself. Gonna leave a mark, I think. I don't got a problem with that, though. He knew, if he exerted some control, that he could fuck Iola for an hour, but they didn't have that time. So with a groan of satisfaction, he unloaded in her, thankful that, whatever else his nephew became, he wouldn't have to worry about a surprise delivery in nine months.

Iola knew it was over, for the time, but was unwilling to just let her uncle go; instead opting to slather his face with her ripe lips while she came down from her mind-bending afterglow. Finally, the lovers separated and she adjusted her clothing, hiding her goodies away to Herbie's faint look of regret. After one last, deep kiss, Iola made her way inside Anyone, ready and eager to help her uncle out.

Herbie watched with a kind of pain gnawing at his gut. He didn't know what Iola had planned, but the last thing he wanted to see now was his beautiful niece whore herself out for his sake. He needn't have worried. Whatever she'd undergone in the last months, apparently it came with a course in verbal warfare. Instead of shaking her ass and flashing her tits, Iola went to each of the bouncers that still kept watch and, well, burned them.

Herbie watched her go to each and mock them so severely, humiliate them so badly, that it was only minutes before they'd grouped up and were ready to show her how big and scary they were. He thought he'd have to abort the entire operation to go in and beat some ass, but Iola just gave a laugh and lit out of there like she was a sprinter going for the gold, even in her fuck-me boots. Herbie had to laugh himself at the looks on their faces as they took off after her, leaving the way for him free and clear.

After that, it was almost too easy. Herbie got up the stairs in the back to find the owner, an ugly bastard named Lenny, and threatened him successfully into signing away the rights to the club. The poor sap was crying for his mommy and daddy afterward, threatening that they'd find Herbie and make him pay. He even threw a mention of a cousin in there. Herbie couldn't have cared less, and grabbed the paperwork as he left without a word. Once out, he looked for Iola again, then felt a wash of relief when he heard a delighted giggle from down the road, quickly followed by a slew of frustrated, angry swearing. Girl can take care of herself. Makes an uncle proud. Proud... and horny, apparently, by the bulge in his pants. God, I am right fucked up. Still, that knowledge didn't stop him from making plans for a later rendezvous that night.

When it was all said and done, and Eugene was given the paperwork, along with the story of what happened, the man had a strange look on his face. "You're saying you had some help, huh? The hookers weren't enough?"

"No. And the pimp was a dick. Thanks for nothing." Herbie leaned forward, across Eugene's desk, forcing his cousin back.

"Hey, I was told to use... it doesn't matter." He smiled ominously. "I'll keep all this in mind. As for the next job..."

Herbie was only half paying attention. Mostly his mind was on meeting with Iola again, and all the things he would be introducing her to.

__________

"So sorry... ung! Sorry! Sorry! Goddddd..." The beauty in front of Herbie grunted and groaned, trying to speak as best she could, but between dealing with his cock spearing her ass, and the rhythmic dipping of her head down into the pussy in front of her face, the poor thing was just coming up short. Still, she was coming, and that seemed to make up for her failure.

Fingers snaked through the girl's gorgeous, fawn-colored hair and brought her head up again. "Stop talking, Cera. You have a job to do." The hands pushed Cera's head back down, where the bronze-skinned woman followed orders and lapped away with practiced joy.

Herbie eyed the woman on her back who was struggling to keep her composure under her girlfriend's ministrations. "You sure you're okay with this? I did... ooh, that's tight... I did hunt Cera here down across the whole damned world. 'Course, I didn't know she was seeing anyone, or I'd have told Eugene to... ooh shit..."

The woman looked up at him, locking eyes just as both of them climaxed, which in turn set warm little Cera off too. As Herbie pulsed in the fragile-looking girl's ass, he couldn't help but admire what he saw down there. She's a skittish little thing, but damn that is a world-class behind!

He'd thought so the moment he saw her, at that café, and kept thinking so when, after she'd given him the slip, he would catch up to her for a few minutes at a time in every fucking random country across the globe. He didn't know why Eugene wanted her brought back to him, and didn't care. It was a job that he had to get done. Problem was, once he'd finally cornered Cera and convinced her it was in her best interest to come with him, and once their mutual attraction had paid off that first night in the hotel room, he'd come up on a new roadblock.

Diane. Not her real name, Herbie was sure, but her anger was real enough, and it was aimed at him. Apparently, Cera was hers. Diane's girlfriend, and, frankly, pet. Sub and Dom, never to be split. Herbie expected to have to do something really, really bad when the wiry woman burst in on the pair in bed, just before he was able to get his cock into his now-willing quarry, but Diane was oddly... understanding. Very understanding, it turned out.

"Long as you... hmmm..." Diane purred as Cera kept up her ministrations. "Long as you didn't actually deflower her, I can forgive you. Both." The dangerously beautiful woman winked at him. "I can appreciate a good hunt. To the victor go the spoils."

Then there was nothing left but to finish the victory ceremony. Of course, Herbie was forbidden from touching Diane, but that was fine; Cera was more than enough for him. When it was done, and he explained exactly what he'd been doing in the first place, Diane only smiled.

"Believe it or not, I feel a kinship with you. I think I want to help you." Diane stroked Cera's cheek, which was resting against one of the woman's perky tits contentedly. "But there are limits..."

When Herbie sent a video to Eugene, arm-in-arm with Cera, that he'd finished the job, his cousin was beside himself. It seemed he never expected to see the girl, and was more than willing to come meet Herbie to get her handed off to him. In the parking lot of Eugene's office building, Herbie let Cera go with a fond pat on her irresistible behind, nodding towards Eugene. His cousin licked his lips in anticipation and reached out for her, but as soon as his hand twitched, a car door opened and out stepped Diane.

Cera, of course, immediately took off for her lover. "Arlen... Dianie! The gross one tried to touch me!" Both women laughed, and as Cera blew a kiss towards Herbie before she disappeared into Diane's decked-out jeep, he couldn't help but join them.

"Not quick enough, cuz. Still, I did my part, so let's get on with it."

Eugene looked ready to bite nails. "...yes. Let's."

__________

Fucking years. Years. That's how long Eugene kept Herbie on his leash, running to every godforsaken corner of the globe. There was that chubby girl that he had to bring back, Erin, who was into bondage. She bored the ever-loving fuck out of Herbie, and he banged her at every stop just to have something to do. Still, she had a great pair on her, without a doubt, and that helped.

Then he was tasked with cleaning up no less than a goddamned furry convention, named The Stable. Apparently Eugene took offense to what he called the freaks weirding up his event hall. He wanted it done in a day. Come to find out, Eugene wasn't the only one that had a distaste, and Herbie was able to pocket some money from the event organizer to get rid of the shadier elements there. One thing he'd learned that he never expected to; some crazy hot women are into dressing as cats and dogs and ponies and other stuff... and they get into it. He was in there barely twenty minutes before an absolute flood of pussy came his way, pun intended. He fucking cleaned that place out, spearing the little minxes over and over, listening to them mewl, and it wasn't an act. He made a note to take another look at that freaky movement when everything was done.

That one was an exception. For the most part, his jobs took time. Way too much time. He was sent, yet again, to hunt down some Diane's girlfriends, twittery little things that felt like sparrows in his hands, and, yet again, they all ended up in a sweaty heap on a huge bed... though that time with toys involved.

One job that was disquieting was helping out Eugene's buddy, Mike. Mike's wife, Patsy, was... well, less than faithful, and was embarrassing the hell out of the guy with a bull of a dude on the side. Even got knocked up by him. Herbie felt better about what he had to do when he found out that the big guy was tearing it up all over, and not exactly by invitation. After he brought the guy in, he sometimes wondered what happened to Patsy's love child, but decided that was someone else's problem. No use wandering through that particular maze.

Eugene seemed to never be done, though. Herbie took care of wild women who were positively eating up workers, finding a way to calm them and break them in to the way things had to be. They were eventually appreciative, and a damn good time, but it was exhausting. He was also dispatched to rustle cattle from a guy named Gary, of all things. He finally knew Eugene was fucking with him when his job was to get the intellectual property on a new brand of personal computer from a group of women who only worked at night. That one was shady, but by that time, Herbie was determined to be done with all of the shit that had eaten up almost two decades of his life. He should have known better.

Eugene, toting the most self-satisfied smile ever, even while hiding behind his office door, told Herbie that he had to do two more jobs. That he cheated by getting paid for the furry thing, and also by getting help from Iola. Herbie knew two things; first, that his fondest ambition in life was rapidly shifting from finding the cunt who ruined it to stomping on his cousin's face till his shoe got stuck. Two, he couldn't help but acknowledge that he was already stuck. His life was now tied inextricably with Eugene and his mysterious partners.

__________

On the night he was given the news, he made a call. A few hours later found him bracing his hands on his headboard for leverage as he slammed it again and again into his wall. Beneath him, her legs flailing bonelessly since all strength had left them, was Eugene's daughter, Adele. The eighteen-year-old's head was lolling back and forth limply, her short hair brushing against Herbie's chest deliciously as she just rolled with his angry thrusts.

"Fuh... guh... hnng..." She made inarticulate noises each time his drove his hips into hers, and took a timid lick at his nipple when she got the chance. "Oooohhh, oh, oh, oh... it's happening again... it... it... Aaaah!"

She spasmed on his cock for what had to be at least the third time, and he finally relented, filling her channel full with a growl of his own. Finally spent, but not exactly satisfied, he rolled off his cousin, well, cousin's kid, and plopped down on the disheveled sheets, staring at the ceiling. Adele wasted no time in crawling onto him and snuggling close, placing her short-haired head in the crook of his arm and sighing sweetly.

"Herbie... you are... mmm. You are the only man I would ever let do that to me." She propped herself up for a second and smiled over at him. "What made you call me?"

For an instant, Herbie felt guilty. 'Cause I hate your dad, and I want to get one over on him. 'Cause I knew you'd let me, since you've had a crush on me your whole life. It was true. Adele had grown up watching Herbie complete task after impossible task for Eugene, seeing her father rage and fume that he couldn't humiliate Herbie more, and developing a downright creepy obsession with her cousin-once-removed.

Herbie had shown considerable restraint when she first turned eighteen, seeing as how the young woman had grown into a breathtaking beauty. At first it wasn't hard; it seemed that Adele was batting for the other team all throughout high school, but on the night of her late birthday party, she had pulled him aside and revealed that she liked women, but they were a placeholder for Herbie himself, and she wanted to make sure that no other guy even tried for her. After that, she'd stuck her tongue down his throat, somehow gave him one of the best blowjobs he'd ever gotten, then zipped him up and left him while swallowing a mouthful of his spunk. And so, after Eugene's little addendum to their deal, restraint went right out the window.

Now, he was stuck, and needed to say something to Adele that wouldn't send her off the deep end for being used. "I called you because I, um, need help with my latest job."

Surprisingly, she was all about it. "Right! It's my job!" When Herbie looked at her funny, she laughed. "It's for me. You heard about that group of women that live in that rainforest down south? The ones that are fighting with, like, every military around them? I just adore their leader, Lita, and she has this cool belt that I can't stop obsessing over. I need you to get it."

Herbie sat up. "Steal a belt from a crazy commando in the jungle? What the fuck, Adele? Can't I just... I don't know, take you on a world tour? Lots of belts everywhere."

Adele hummed in a sly way, then reached down and began stroking him to hardness again. "Not steal, necessarily. You can sweet talk it off her, I have no doubt." She dipped down and licked his newly throbbing cockhead. "And I'll come with you. We'll take my dad's yacht." Without hesitation, she swung her leg over his waist and slid down on his dick, screwing herself on him with a whimper. Once she was all the way down, taking his entire length like she was born for it, she bit her lip and began stroking his bearded cheeks with her thumbs. "Say yes..."

Herbie had to smile. What the fuck other choice do I have?

__________

"Holy fucking shit! Are you two even fucking human?"

The exclamation came with a guttural moan as the woman, Lita, convulsed helplessly, her firm breasts and muscular frame pressing down on Herbie's hulking body like she wanted to push him through the bed. Of course, that didn't make him stop hammering his cock in and out of her gushing snatch, and it didn't even come close to hampering Adele's frantic hips as the sawed the strap-on in and out of the commando's gaping asshole. The sight was actually a bit comical, with Lita's gaudy gold belt hoola-hooping around Adele's skinny waist, a freely-given gift after the cousin duo had shown the fighter just what they could do for her... three days before.

Lita, squirming with the effects of her latest climax, looked over her shoulder at the teen who was riding her like a pony. "Little girl... you must live with us after this." She brushed her dark hair out of her face and locked her black eyes on Herbie. "Maybe you too? I am in charge... I could make new rules..."

It was tempting, no doubt. Herbie had seen what the others of her band looked like, and it wasn't bad. Wasn't bad in the slightest. In fact, there were a couple of the jungle women stationed out on the deck of the yacht for safety. They'd been listening to their leader's unabashed screams of joy for days, they'd probably be curious by now, at the very least. Been doing this so long, maybe I should just give it up and live—

And that was when the door was kicked in, and his nascent plans for a life change went bye-bye. One of Lita's fighters, an older woman that had a hat pulled low over her eyes, but still looked naggingly familiar to Herbie, screamed something about Lita being abducted and raped, and all hell broke loose.

To their leader's ignored pleas for sanity, a contingent of the rainforest women stormed in, looking to "rescue" Lita and reclaim her honor. First they grabbed Adele, hauling her to the side of the yacht's bedroom, then piled on Herbie, holding him down while they tried to tie him up, apparently as part of a plan to torture him for what he'd done.

At first, Herbie was close to despair; even a man as big and strong as him couldn't overpower half a dozen trained fighters, even if they were a fraction of his size. Then he saw what they were doing to his little cousin who idolized him. Two of them had thrown her to the floor, wresting the strap-on away. One used it on her, shoving it in without ceremony, while the other sat on the girl's face, forcing her pussy on Adele's mouth and bucking back and forth to force her to perform.

A rage boiled up in him that hadn't been there since he'd been under the effects of June's drugs. He threw off his attackers like they were stuffed with cotton, then shot over to his young lover, grabbing her rapists by the neck and tossing them into their compatriots to land in a twisted heap of broken limbs. Blocking out Adele's whimpers, and Lita's begging, he proceeded to open a porthole and shove each and every one of those women right out and into the river below, leaving Lita for last. In some distant part of his throbbing mind, he knew it wasn't her fault, but there was no stopping him, and out she went.

That task done, he went to Adele, scooping her into his arms as she wept, her wound up nerves vying with her overwhelming sense of relief and love for her rescuer. As he rocked her, he called up to the captain to take off. Idly, he realized he didn't see the accuser, the older one who'd started the whole snafu, but figured there was no way she'd still be on the yacht.

The trip home was long, but not so onerous. Herbie and Adele pretty much spent the entire time fucking each other's brains out, and if he thought she was eager before, the events in the rainforest had turned her into an outright wildcat. Her lust was only matched by her infinite gratitude to him as her savior. She wore the gold belt before as a souvenir... after, it was a trophy. By the time they docked, Herbie knew that his little cousin was head-over-fucking-heels in love with him, and was, in all probability, carrying his child.

She wasn't the only one. Come to find out, Iola had been knocked up too, all those years ago. If it were anyone else, he would have said she was putting one over on him, but he knew his niece would never lie to him. By some miracle of modern science, Jon had become Iola, man to woman, along with everything that meant.

When Herbie had seen his newborn child, it stirred something in him, and he and Iola had spent a week in each other's arms, joined together more often than not. She left with another package after that blissful vacation. After, for years, Iola had been raising his children with the help of Mini and her people, though he was still in the dark on what that entailed, while he had been stuck doing Eugene's bidding. They got together when they could, but it wasn't enough.

Now Adele was thrown in the mix, and she couldn't be happier. Herbie found that he was happy too, like something was being repaired inside him that had long been broken, though he had to be honest and admit that the thought of how furious Eugene would be when he found out who inseminated his little princess was unadulterated joy in and of itself. He vowed then to do right by his women, once he was free.

He just had one more job to do.

__________

I need guides. What the hell does that even mean? Herbie sat in a nice chair in one of the many office foyer's of Zero Lymp U.S.'s headquarters, waiting to be seen. His instructions were clear; get here, and find out what was next. Clear, and frustrating. So now he waited to be seen by... someone. He had no idea whom.