You Only C.U.M Once (Pt. 01)

"Something is off about this mission."

There was a pregnant pause over the radio.

"Fucking seriously, Kimmy? You're bringing this up now?" Amanda's voice was a tired groan in my earbuds.

"Is now a bad time?" I asked, pulling the laser saw out, then pausing as I adjusted my sonic emitter. My eyes flicked from the HUD that showed the sonic pulse back -- indicating that there were no moving signatures within twenty meters of me -- to the oxygen indicator. I had about thirty seconds left before I went from yellow to red.

"Uh, yes?" Amanda hissed. "Maybe you should bring up it up when you're not underneath the bad guy's base."

"Well, it's cause it's just a little thing." I said, then pulled back on the trigger of the laser saw. The laser emitter flared with a sudden swell of bubbles, which swept in a circle. When the laser was done, I pushed up -- sending my body bobbing down into the water. When I surged back up again, my head thrust through the hole I had cut and I saw that the sonic emitter had made one tiny little mistake. It detected movement -- but only along a certain curve. One of the things it could miss would be a goon in the snow white A.R.C.T.I.C camo gear wriggling and squirming and trying to take a leak.

The goon looked at me.

I, with my breather and my rubbery mask still on, looked up at him.

The goon grabbed for his radio.

I hucked the laser drill at his head, water sloshing around my black clad arm.

The drill clocked him in the side of his hood, causing him to grunt and sprawl backwards, crashing backwards into the snowy drifts that surrounded the frozen over lake. A voice spoke from the radio in confused Finnish. I scrambled from the water, wriggling and kicking free until I was on my hands and knees and crawling to the radio. I snatched it up into my hands, wracking myself for my Finnish.

Hah.

Just kidding.

I spoke fluent Finnish. I spent a few minutes reading up on it while we were flying from T.A.S.K headquarters to here, while bouncing Amanda on my lap.

Because I'm awesome.

"Juha, where are you? Are you still taking a leak?"

I reached up to tug the breather out of my mouth and chucked it away before approximated a gruff rumble. "Have you tried to take a leak in this weather. I'll be there in just a bit."

"Very well. Hail A.R.C.T.I.C."

I flicked off the radio, then stood up.

"All right. You have...five minutes from...right now to take out all the goons so we can drop the T.A.S.K. marines down here," Marcy, my other handler, was sounding just a bit nervous. I didn't exactly blame her. After all, that was her job, to sound nervous. I reached up to my hood, then tugged it backwards, wriggling and rolling my shoulders as I slipped from my wetsuit, revealing the combat jumpsuit that I had worn underneath it. Tabby, my techy nerd friend, had told me that it was full of fun toys. Strength enhancing fibers, armor mesh weave, some ablative stuff in case the bad guys had anything more advanced than our buddies Heckler and Koch could provide.

I didn't super need it.

I tugged free my glock 26, checked the magazine, checked the silencer, then started to jog around the corner. The frozen over lake I'd busted into had been fed by an underground river that ran from the coastline, but surrounding this whole estate was a ton of foothills and forested paths that had been sculpted into a frosty wonderland -- evergreen trees rose from around hedge rows and ice sculptures glittered here and there. Everything was lit by dim glowbulbs, and in the center of it all was the fortress like mansion that served as the headquarters of A.R.C.T.I.C.

Absolutist Reactionary Complete Totalitarian Information Control.

They were not the nicest people in the universe, and recruited primarily from a worryingly deep pool of amoral mercs, Neo-Nazi skinheads, genuine monarchist die hards, and worse. So, I felt no guilt what so ever when I rounded the first bend and saw three of their goons standing at a patrol center. They half turned to face the soft crunching of my feet in the snow -- but I had my pistol up and held in a double handed grip. The silencer made a soft whuff and the subsonic bullet struck the goggles one of them wore before the detonator went off. The explosive bullet was muffled by the brains and skull of the former skinhead, which was rather polite of it.

The splatter of the brains hitting snow was only slightly louder than the thump of the body in the snow as I put another subsonic exploding bullet into the mouth of the second goon as he opened his mouth to scream. By then, I was close enough to swing my leg up and around and brought it crashing into the throat of the third. As his neck crumbled the wrong way, he choked and gurgled, his ankles drumming on the snow. I kept jogging forward, pausing only to shoot a man who had his back to me as he patrolled down a side passage.

"So, as I was saying," I said, not even breathing heavily.

"Really, Kimmy? Now?" Amanda asked.

I stopped at an ice sculpture, using the heavy stone base of it to block line of sight. I saw three more goons. I checked my magazine while muttering uner my breath. "Something about the briefing seemed off."

"What are you talking about?" Amanda sounded defensive.

I grinned. "The cadence in the writing, the letters, the fact that two different pages were listed as page 13, almost like someone had done a pretty quick edit on some of the personal dossiers I was reading." I whistled.

A guard turned, then started over, frowning. He came to the corner of the ice sculpture and I grabbed him and dragged him around, slamming my knife into his throat. He gurgled around it.

"Wow, you noticed a typo, I'm sooo impressed," Amanda said.

The other two guards, having noticed something odd, started to walk over as well. I rolled around the corner, fired twice, and both dropped.

"Yeah, you're not fooling me, O'Neill," I said, checking my wrist. It displayed the number of goons that I had to take out, and my timeline. I was at...seven? I think. Yeah. Seven down, fifteen in total, only eight to go. I reloaded and started to sprint past the checkpoint, coming to a guardhouse. I saw there was a security camera feed running along the wall and into the snow. I popped my smart-wrist off the band, then tapped at it to set it to spoof mode, then quickly spliced it into the line. Now, whoever was at the mansion would only be seeing what the watch wanted them to see. "What did you cut?"

"Nothing!" Amanda said, sounding nervous now.

I eyeballed the wall. Nice. Thick. Insulating. I pushed open the door and saw that inside the guardhouse, there were six goons. Two of them were currently in the middle of enjoying one of the maid staff -- a gorgeous looking Asian girl in a frilly french maid outfit, who was looking as if she deeply regretted being chosen for this job, considering she had a cock in her ass and a cock in her pussy. The goons didn't glance at the door until I had it shut -- and my other hand had snatched up one of the discarded assault rifles.

The gun chattered in my hands as I swept the barrel around and, in a few seconds, the whole room was empty of bad guys -- just me and the cutie. I grinned, winking at her as she sat up, gaping around herself. She squeaked, her hands going to her breasts. "W-Who are you!?" she stammered. "Don't-"

I reached out, placing my finger on her lips, my voice a soft croon. "The name's Woods. Kimberly Woods. And I would never hurt you." I said, looking into her eyes, my cock growing achingly hard against my skintight body armor.

"...Kimmy, you have two minutes and the other two are at the far end of the field," Amanda said. "And don't you dare-"

"A-Are you as weirdly turned on by a-all this sudden violence?" the maid whispered, her eyes wide.

"That is..." I crooned, cupping the asian maid's rump, squeezing the softness of her taut, delicious rump. "Entirely normal, my dear..."

The asian girl's eyes widened and then fluttered shut as I kissed her, drawing her close. Her eyes widened again as she felt the bulge that was straining against my armored clothing. I reached down and undid the zipper -- which provoked a soft groan of exasperation over my earbud. "Why does she even have that?" Amanda whispered as my massive girlcock sprang free, smacking against the taut, golden brown belly of the asian maid. As my tongue swept away from her mouth, leaving her lips glistening, her eyes unfocused and hazy, I crooned softly.

"Ready?"

"I-I..." she whispered, then gasped as I pushed her up against the wall, turning her so that her back pressed against it. My hands grabbed her knees, pushing them up so that they almost pressed her shoulders, spreading her completely hairless cunt, her skirts rumpling upwards as I slotted my cock against her -- then drove home. The feeling of her silky pussy around me was indescribably good -- it helped that my adrenaline was spiking and I was feeling the raw bliss of the moment as I started to fuck her, rough. And. Hard. My balls slapped against her ass like she was a drum, and I took a great deal of pleasure seeing the shock melt away on her face as she immediately started to cum buckets.

"Ah! Ah! Yes! Yes! Yes! Ah...god, your cock feels so much better than theirs!" She gasped, her eyes fluttering shut, her hard nips popping out against her breasts as her back arched and her toes curled. I pressed her into the wall like she was some grapes in a winery, and I started to churn my dick into her with a ferocious passion, growling in her ear as I slammed home again and again and again and again.

The feeling of her third orgasm in as many seconds was what set me off. My balls clenched and I groaned as my eyes closed and I started to pump my seed into her, moaning heavily as I wriggled my hips to stir my spunk into her deeper and deeper -- thick, translucent cum dripping down my balls. I panted huskily.

"Y...You didn't pull out..." she whispered, dazedly -- but so very happily. I shuddered and felt my cock get immediately rock hard again as she crooned. "G-Good."

"You want a baby, huh?" I whispered.

"I...y-yeah..." Her face was practically glowing as I leaned forward, kissing her on the mouth.

"Thirty seconds, Kimmy!" Amanda's voice came through my earpiece.

I slid out of the maid, setting her on the table, grinning and flicking her a card. "That'll set you up for life," I said -- the maid snatching the card from the air, blinking as she looked at it.

T.A.S.K Paternity Center was scrawled on it -- with a number, G-mail, and twitter @.

I stepped outside and into the chilly wind of the late evening. The two guards, I could see, were just barely visible as a pair of heads that stuck out above a short cut hedge. They were on the far side of the property, blissfully unaware that the rest of their far-right goons buddies were all dead.

"So, you just need to clear almost three hundred meters in seventeen seconds and silently take out those two guards, or else the whole op is blown," Amanda said, her voice grumbly. I grinned, then hefted up my pistol. "...no way, Kimmy. Not even you."

I didn't know if Amanda O'Niell, the love of my life and my personal pilot, was actually doubting me or if she knew that showing off was the best way to make an S-Agent like myself excel to the maximal amount.

But it worked.

My pistol jumped.

The first goon dropped, his head bursting like a tiny red balloon. His friend spun around -- so my second shot hit his eye instead of his ear. He dropped as well. I lowered my pistol -- to the sound of parachutes opening and dark figures skimming from the skies. I looked up and saw that the T.A.S.K marines were coming down. Their chutes were dark colored, and their uniforms shifted in hue as they landed, going from black to the same white color as the A.R.C.T.I.C goons. They landed and began to pack up their chutes, snatching up A.R.C.T.I.C guns.

Within about twenty six seconds, without anyone being any the wiser, the entire outer fortifications had switched from A.R.C.T.I.C to T.A.S.K control.

The head of the marines nodded to me -- a tough looking man from the baseline part of T.A.S.K. While he might have been born approximating the gender he preferred, he still had a deadly competency that made it clear that he could handle anything. It was easy for people like -- S-Agents, who were doused with enough "super-hormones" that they could excel at almost anything they set their minds to -- to look down on people who couldn't take the S-Treatment. The way it had been explained to me in training was that while an S-Agent could be better than baselines in everything, they could never be the best at everything.

The best baseline pilot, like Amanda, could beat my butt.

And I was pretty sure this marine could out shoot me.

His name was Lt. Danvers.

"Wait for my signal," I said, reaching up to take hold of my zipper. "Once I've gotten the AZX, the whole place is going to be going wild and I am going to need plenty...of cover." I wriggled as my zipper slid down, my skintight armored suit peeling off to reveal a midnight black tuxedo top, with a bright red flower pinned to the lapel and daringly cut pants that clung to my legs while still leaving me room to move. I kicked the last bit free, then brushed my hands through my raven black hair, before tucking my sidearm into my concealed holster. I grinned. "How do I look?"

"Like a significant chunk of NATO's military budget," Lt. Danvers said, giving me a crooked grin.

"So entirely misappropriated?" I asked, winking at him. "I'd say wish me luck, but..."

"Have fun," he said, then drew his parka hood back forward to conceal his face while, behind him, one of the T.A.S.K goons poured out a vial of Body-B-Gone on one of the corpses, which began to slowly shimmer and fade into an easily missed mist.

I headed for the headquarters with a smug strut, fishing out my fake documentations.

My name, tonight, was going to be Annelise DeBering, heir to the DeBering fortune.

I started to hear concert music as I came to the front steps and started to walk to the considerably nicer dressed indoor guards. I flashed them my papers, gave a little cheerful 'oh, I never arrive early, my dears' and then slipped into the mansion.

And into the heart of A.R.C.T.I.C...and the lair of Berman Ragnhild.

***

"Well, that was an unmitigated disaster."

I sat before the desk with Alex, the head of my division of T.A.S.K. I'd been working here for a full year and change and I still didn't know his last name. Nor what T.A.S.K stood for. Alex had plucked me out of my senior year of high school while I was balls deep inside of a dang cute cheerleader, and revealed to me that the hormone treatments I had been quietly stealing to turn Kimberly Woods into the gorgeous trans badass we all know and love had actually been super soldier serum.

S-Treatments. They'd been invented right before World War 2 by one Magnus Hirschfeld the coolest dude you'd never heard of. He was a gay Jewish sexologist in the 30s who had been the first guy to try the radical scientific method of 'talking to trans people and believe what they say.' Using this method, he had realized that trans people existed and could use a bit of help -- which had led to his invention of hormone replacement therapy and the discovery of the S-treatment. It was a kind of super-powered hormones that could take a sad mixed up egg like myself as a few years ago and turn her into a gorgeous bombshell badass like myself as of right now.

Magnus had managed to sneak the treatments to the Allies and kept them out of Nazi hands -- which was a big reason why we weren't all speaking German now.

Well.

That and Nazis were fucking morons.

Since the war, T.A.S.K had been all about using S-Agents to help keep the world safe. Mostly from other S-Agents, since we were the only people who could stop the bad guys. Because, um, a mild side effect of the S-Treatments, ontop of the incredible strength, genius level intellect, shocking beauty, and impressive dick girth was the constant pressure to do stuff. I channeled that into my beautiful bevy of gorgeous girls and saving the world. But some S-Agents didn't have such an egalitarian, pro-social methodology to their activities.

...okay, if I was being honest, I tried to channel that energy into saving the world.

Alex rubbed his palms against his face, then leaned back in his chair. "Amanda...how did all of this go down?"

I scowled, but let my pilot talk.

"Well, it all started going wrong when Kimmy walked into the ballroom," Amanda said.

I stepped into the ballroom as the doors opened, revealing the masses of people who were all visiting A.R.C.T.I.C for the soiree. The centerpiece of the whole thing was a large, gaudy looking ice statue of a valkyrie with spread wings and out-thrust breasts that were nearly the size of her own head, tipped with frosty white nips. My eyes locked onto it for about five minutes, while I stood there, drooling stupidly.

"Hold up!" In the office, I scowled at Amanda. "I was not distracted that long."

"I had recording from your mounted camera to prove it," Amanda said. "Before you blew up the support vehicle."

"I didn't blow up the support vehicle!" I grumped, crossing my arms over my chest. "The goons chasing me did." I shook my head. "Anyone, what actually happened is..."

I grinned at the icy titties for a totally reasonable five or six seconds before muttering a soft 'nice' and then sipped my drink. I swept my gaze, then over the whole place. A.R.C.T.I.C had stolen a quantum computer earlier this month and they were going to reveal what it was they were going to do with it today. Their doners and their supporters from the upper class white racist fringe of European and American society were all here in one part briefing, one part fund raising mission. After all, running an organization like this always took big bucks.

Sadly, racist and rich tended to go together.

In my ear piece, Amanda muttered. "Now, your objective for now is to keep your head down and make sure no one goes on high alert. If the base goes on alert, the T.A.S.K marines are going to be holding the bag. Got it?"

"I got it, I got it," I said, quietly, then smiled and picked up a nice glittering wineglass from the table. My eyes settled on a luminously beautiful, petite blond woman. She was maybe twenty, twenty five at most, with long whispy hair that was so intensely blond that it had nearly shaded to pure white. Her eyes had tiny flecks of gold in them, making her look rather strikingly exotic. Her dress was strapless and blood red, offsetting her pale skin and complimenting her richly colored lips. She also looked bored out of her mind. I started towards her.

"Ow," I said.

She turned to face me, her brow furrowing.

"Pardon?" she asked, her voice faintly tinged with a Scandinavian accent.

"Oh. Sorry...you're so pretty, you made me skip forward to when you smack me for using the old 'when you fell from heaven' line," I said, smiling and rubbing at my cheek, as if I had been smacked. "It was worth it though."

She giggled, putting a gloved hand over her mouth. "You are quite an absurd...who are you?"

"Annelise DeBering," I purred. "Of the DeBering family, from North America." I took her hand from her lips, then kissed her gloved knuckles. "And you are?"

"O-Oh. Ah. Princess Rebecka Ragnhild," she said, smiling at me.

"...Princess, eh?" I asked, pointedly.

In the office, I paused in the telling to glare at Amanda.

"What?" Alex asked, looking between the two of us.