tagNovels and NovellasThe Adventures of Damien Black

The Adventures of Damien Black



He didn't know where he was, but the transporter had hummed along for nearly an hour. He already knew he was in deep, deeper than usual, but this meant bad news. Usually he'd try to run, a simple white and blue picking him up (if they could) before even ID'ing him, but this time was a different story. Both hands were locked in code protected, aeon cuffs, same as his ankles -- the finest 22nd century shackles tax payer money can buy. The techies don't skimp on the fail safes, not anymore, he thought. Suddenly, the ship began to shake. Vibrating , deep noise filled his ears and those of the four armoured men sitting in the back watching him as they hovered into landing position. After a moment of chugging gears and steam, they set down softly, the engine calming into an electronic hiss. The watch team told him to stand up. I was just getting comfy, he said. The back gate slid open quickly to show the ten guards waiting on his arrival, fully geared up. One stepped forward and signalled those inside to move out.

"Damien Black," said the one in charge in a distorted, anatomical buzz through his mask. "You have been charged with murder in the first degree. Follow us."

Damien stood up and paused. These weren't cops, at least not the regular kind. This wasn't the city jail or the precinct either. For once, he didn't know what the hell was going on and, for once, he was innocent.


"Easy boys, no need to rush."

The robotic looking officers in their dark blue and black cybernetic suits walked in a circle around him, leading him God knows where down a long dark hallway covered in cameras, the ceiling 40 feet high, the black walls only 8 feet wide. Damien walked, standing inches above the other men. He was tired, having been woken up in the early morning with the bang of his door being broken down followed by a short run and him breaking three arms and a leg. Less than usual, he had thought. What a shame. He didn't show this though, he never did. Black had endless energy when needed.

They moved through the empty pathway and into one of eight unmarked elevators, shooting them down. They exited on a floor that appeared to be a control room covered in telescreens and holographic design modules. It was blindingly white and workers in white shirts flowed by, barely noticing him. Too many pen protectors, Damien noticed. In the center hovered a pinpoint map of the state with glowing dots blinking within it. The lead officer received a buzz in his ear piece and nodded before directing the group towards a certain door at the other end.

"No tour? I feel gipped."

The lead swiftly took his baton and hit Damien in the ribs, dropping him slightly. He coughed but quickly recovered. His torso throbbed.

"No talking."

The lab coats began taking notice of their guest as he stomped forward in his thick, black boots with ten guards, on top of those lining the room. They stopped to stare, some of the women more than others at his dark, cropped hair and the veins on his biceps that protruded from the short sleeves of his light blue Skin Suit that was now torn and covered in dirt. Sweat dripped from his brow. He needed a shave.

They entered the small office that had no windows, only a desk and two chairs. Damien went to sit but they pulled him up. Soon a man in a dark suit walked in. Immediately the air felt different. He was still tense but something was up. They hadn't spoken two words, but he knew he hadn't spoken to someone this important in a long time.

"Ah, Mr. Damien Black, finally up close and personal. Most people who have seen your face don't seem to live very long."

"Well, lucky for you I'm in these," he grunted, eyeing his chains.

"Take those as a compliment."

The man sat. Damien slumped into the chair opposite letting out a deep breath.

"So, you killed Grant Thoroughby, the lawyer. Want to talk about it?"

"Don't I get a phone call or a bathroom break?"

"Let's just say you're not exactly at the precinct."

"So I've noticed. The shit smells a bit different here."

"We found Thoroughby's brains on his kitchen wall. Mind explaining that, Damien?"

"A. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. B. I don't know who the fuck you are."

"True. I'm Agent Burke and you are at the state's R-CAT headquarters. After what's been going on here and in that kitchen, we needed to bring you in one way or another." Damien looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

"R-CAT: Refugee Capture and Transmission. We're having particular difficulty with someone I don't think you particularly like Black. Does the name Ivan Rasmus mean anything to you?" Damien sucked in his breath and stared. This name, Ivan Rasmus, had been burned in his mind for ten years. The two had a lot of history, but he also thought Ivan was dead.

"Maybe it does."

"I never liked Grant Thoroughby. Guy was a prick, tipped poorly, treated his wife like shit, probably deserved that 9mm you slugged through his head. Point is, a lot of other people are upset. What I'm more upset about are the 2.5 million data files that have gone missing over the last three months."

"And this Ivan Rasmus, you're sure he's involved?"

"Him and his new crew, we're fairly positive. He's like you though: you get too close, you get burned. I want you to get close and burn him." Damien looked around the room. "I don't have much of a choice do I?"

"Choice is an illusion, Black. With your skillset and from what I understand about Mr. Rasmus, I think you'd rather enjoy this. That and the immunity you'll get if you finish the job."

"What's the catch? Dead or alive?"

"Either. The catch is you'll be working with a partner, our top intelligence officer on the case."

"I don't do partners."


Agent Tate had woken up and began her morning routine, the same she had done for the last 12 months. Though it had become a routine, she had recently grown weary of it. Her job had become increasing difficult and more stressful with less and less time for herself, but that didn't matter to Tate. All of this had only caused her to become more and more focused on her current case. The more she failed, the more she was dedicated to finishing the job. Her ex-boyfriend of six months did not seem to mind this.

Today would be an especially hard day, but she told herself she was ready for whatever Agent Burke had to say. Right now though, everything was routine, its normalcy an escape from whatever life would throw at her for the next ten, eleven or twelve hours she would work. It was also an escape from the lingering thoughts that what she did was dangerous, but these had been pushed aside long ago. She liked to take risks, but she also lived within the confines of the system.

She showered quickly, but washed her long blonde hair with care. She was tall and the twin suns had touched her skin lightly. One of the few perks of working outdoors, she had thought. The warm water that hit her would be Tate's final comfort of the day, her morning companion. Everything after this was uphill, but the challenge was welcome and renewed her conviction daily.

She slipped into her work issued Skin Suit and tied her hair back tight behind her head without a thought before grabbing her bag. Time to go. Time to find this bastard. *** At headquarters, something was off. Tate could tell the desk fillers were distracted as they milled about. Things seemed quieter. Maybe it was a slow day for them, but the presence of 20 additional guards was also suspicious.

"What are you doing here?"

Adam had moved from upstairs down to the control room to direct the Central Mapping team. This was after the two had been partners over a year ago and after the case had nearly killed him. The frustration had gotten to him, she wouldn't let it get to her.

"Meeting with Burke. I know, unusual seeing me down here."

"It is, but I don't mind. It's good seeing you."

Adam never asked about the case. Tate knew he meant well, but he had become too soft for her working downstairs. He used to be a good detective, someone who showed her the ropes at R-CAT, but Adam had let the fear win. Once this happened, he was a different person. There had always been tension on the job between them, even a kiss despite him being married, but she no longer had felt this. This was a long time ago though. This is when she allowed herself to be distracted.

She checked her watch and walked to Burke's door, punching in her identification and verifying it.

"Katherine Tate, 8831." She wanted to get this over with and start following her new leads.

"Ah, Tate. Right on time, how punctual."

Katherine stopped in her tracks. Burke sat behind his desk with a grin as normal but in front of him stood six gear heads and some tall renegade who looked like he had a been on the wrong side of a bar fight.

"What's this? I thought we were having a meeting, sir."

"This is the meeting, don't you worry. Close the door."

She did and walked to the other side of the room, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. Tate did not know what to expect and glanced at both Burke and the scruffy character sitting in the nearby chair. He raised his head enough to make eye contact. She immediately looked away, his eyes were a piercing light blue, above one a scar. He looked worn down, but powerful in his stature.

"Who is the girl?" Damien mumbled to Burke.

"Tate, I know you're having issues with your case. We need a change. We need those files."

"What do you mean a change? I've been working on this for almost a year, sir. I've got new leads that I'm about to follow up on."

"That's no good, we need results, we needed them a month ago."

"I've worked too DAMN hard and I've gotten too close to stop."

"You have had ENOUGH time. Do not raise your voice, Agent."

"Sir, I've proven my capabilities. I'm a damn good detective and I've almost got this creep, I'm almost there."

"If you say so, good because you are not off this case, Tate. Meet your new partner as of today, Damien Black."

Katherine's brain ceased function. In front of her was one of the most wanted unseen rebels of the state and the country over. Everyone had heard stories about Damien Black, black market pirate, and now here he was in the flesh. She couldn't help but stare at him now, his square jaw, his chest stretching the fibre of his suit, the front of his hair falling in front of his face. Somehow Tate felt sorry for him, possibly because of his current condition, but she was sure he somehow deserved it. Finally, she returned to reality.

"Screw this, I'll find this Rasmus on my own, captain asshole. Don't need the girl."

"Damien, she has all the info. She's smart and she has an in on the street."

"Excuse me? Burke, I don't need him, I don't need a partner, I'm doing just fine."

"And you haven't nailed him yet have you? That's why I'm here, honey. I'm sure you're easy on the eyes in the field, but I know what I'm doing."

Agent Tate was taken aback. He had a deep, throaty voice and a faint accent she didn't expect and couldn't place. No one had commented on her appearance in so long it confused her but she was too angry to dwell on this.

"Damien Black? I won't be surprised if you run out on us or find a way to botch the job. I'm in this for the long haul. You're just here because you've run out of options, jackoff."

Suddenly, Black stood up and delivered a fist to the gut of the lead officer, lifting him off his feet. The aeonic cuffs lied on the floor next to where the guard began to cough blood.

"You're a terrible tour guide."

Burke waved off the others who had begun to draw their batons and psi-picks. Tate stood in place, slightly shaken, her eyes wide. Everything had happened so suddenly, but Black wasn't even fazed.

"Look," Damien said directly to her, "this guy is a killer. Rasmus will kill you and your family. And if you don't have a family, he'll kill you twice. If you were close, you'd be dead by now."

His words rang through her ears, but she understood this already. She was tougher than he could imagine, or so she thought. His eyes lingered over her body. Her Skin Suit was just that, skin tight. Years of being prepared for anything had kept her body thin and firm.

Damien began to walk out. "I'm done here."

"You start tomorrow," Burke yelled after him. "Get rested."

To this, Burke was given the North American gesture for 'fuck off'.

"Get to know your new partner...and try to keep him in line."

Tate glared at Burke before following out, running to catch up to a man who minutes ago she only knew as a myth. In the back of her mind she knew he had done and seen things she would never experience, but none of that justified his attitude.

"Quite an introduction. I don't know what you think you're doing, but if you're going to do this, I mean really do it, I'm in 100%."

"Save me the pep talk. I'm in this to get out of THIS," he mentioned quietly, looking around the room, bending down to Tate's level. "And back to what it is I do."

"Fine, but we need to work together, OK? I have a way of doing things and it WILL help lead us to our man."

Agent Tate always remembered what Damien Black said next before he walked away: "Things change." And they did.

CHAPTER 3: Morning Dreamscape

While Damien slept the remainder of his 16 hour rest, Katherine awoke slightly off kilter to her daily routine. She had dreamed quite vividly, but couldn't remember what about. It left her body feeling light and her mind absent, lost somewhere else that she hadn't yet explored. The previous weeks had blended together, but, after yesterday, she felt unsure about her future and what exactly would happen.

Regardless of this morning's strangeness, Tate pressed on with her routine, slipping out of her boyish pajamas and into the shower. She could barely keep her eyes open and turned on the faucet, warmer than usual to wake her up, anticipating her AM companion. She began to soap herself and enjoyed rubbing the smooth lather down her long legs and her tight stomach, the hot water running down her nimble body washing it away. Often she didn't notice the feeling of her hand along her own skin, nor did she think of hers against anyone else's, but today she did.

Katherine closed her eyes and turned on the hypo-steam only semi-consciously. As the steam filled the shower she wet her hair, the stream coursing down her bare neck and back. She could feel the humidity in the air all around her now, wrapping her up as she slowly ran her hands through her hair, gliding them along her sides until they reached her ass. It was perfectly round and full, hanging slightly over the uppermost part of her thigh. She had noticed the men at the office gym try to hide their shifty eyes as she did her squats in her fitted pants, sticking her ass out, but had not paid much attention. She was used to being around these men. The tips of her fingers loitered on the curved surface before she squeezed, gripping it softly. Even this feeling felt unfamiliar. The skin was sensitive and soft and lit up her lower half with warmth. Work had made her forget to appreciate the beautiful, feminine body she was given. It felt like her hands were rediscovering this. She didn't notice her smile.

Her hands slid around her hips and down between her legs like a V, the inside of her palm grazing the outside of her lips. The slight pressure against them felt wonderful and Katherine grew anxious, tension filling her. Her thoughts shifted as images from her dreams began to flood back. These images were of Damien Black. She began to remember bits and pieces of them being somewhere in the Capitol getting close to a key location. They were hiding momentarily, alone together, when he looked at her with his rugged, handsome face and smiled gently. The general feeling overtaking her here was much different than that of their first encounter, but the danger was still there.

'Where had he come from? Where had he been?' she thought.

Her elbows bent and drew up, her palms making their way from shoulders to her breasts. Tate squeezed them firmly, her nipples clasped in-between the sides of her fingers. She did this again and turned around, letting the water spray along her front. Katherine was getting wet, and not from the shower.

Agent Tate stood firmly and brought her hand between her legs. She began to rub her pussy slowly, the stream trickling between like a spout. She could feel her own wetness amongst it, in between her lips, practically dripping out. The sensation shot through her body like a shockwave. She couldn't help but open her mouth in pleasure so she bit her lip.

Katherine's mind continued to wander. She knew the rest of her day might be a nightmare, but she didn't care, this was too good. She pictured a pair of large, strong hands surprising her from behind, gripping around her waist, caressing her until they touched her wetness gently. His fingers moved between her lips as if he had done it a thousand times, finally stopping over her clit to rub skillfully. Katherine moaned silently. She could feel his muscular arms hug her sides and the naked skin of his front pressing against her back. Tate held onto her hand over his, guiding his fingers along. She turned to find Damien staring back at her with a grin and a light beard, the sound Mmmm emanating from his throat.

Why did she he envision him so? Black was a loose cannon who took what he wanted and did what he pleased. He was strong, powerful, and he had his own opinion on everything. She did so because that's what she wanted. The fact was, he was stud. Her eyes grazed over his well-proportioned, toned upper body. It was rippling muscle with dark hair down the center of his long torso leading her eyes to the swollen member she had dreamed of that dangled between his thighs. Even in Burke's office she had noticed the fat bulge in his suit, but this was the thickest, meaty cock she had ever seen. Katherine ran her hands along the carved boundaries of his physique in awe, her eyes peering into his the whole time, eventually grabbing around the dick she wanted so badly. Her fingers couldn't even reach around it entirely. It felt heavy.

Tate herself pressed her fingers harder against her little, pink nub, quickening her pace. She could feel the pressure building as the hot steam pecked at her. She was soaked. Katherine slid a finger in and out of her kitty and back up, again and again. She moaned quietly and felt her body begin to stiffen. She imagined Damien's whopper pulsating in her closed hand as she took her time jerking him off, moving the skin back and forth revealing the purple head of what she craved. Meanwhile, he had spread her lips and fingered her slippery wetness slowly, taking it out every time before sliding it back in. She held her breath suddenly, she was about to come.

A scorching rush flowed throughout her body and Katherine shook as she came hard, her juices dripping from her as she finished polishing her clit. It was glorious. The normal feeling of Katherine's morning shower returned to the forefront and as did her thoughts. Luckily she had woken up earlier in eagerness of the obstructions she knew her job would throw at her. Today would not be a routine day.

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