You Only C.U.M Once (Pt. 04)

"A stealth plane, what are we going to what the fuck are you doing?"

My sentence had hit that particular verbal car crash because, midway through asking Kate what we were going to do, Michelle had already pulled out what looked like a micronized stinger missile launcher. It was small, boxy looking inverted pistol that she rested against her wrist, the flat barrel projecting just a tiny bit past her knuckles and the handguard. She looked at me.

"What?" she asked. "We're getting dogged by a stealth plane. No plane, no problem."

"Remember the part where we're spies?" I asked.

"Yeah. Spies blow things up all the time," Michelle said.

"Girls," Kate said, and both of us shut up. "Michelle, thank you for being prepared. Kimberly, thank you for remembering our primary objective is, of course, information gathering." She frowned down at the console, then took her seat. "The stealth ship is approaching us at a sedate enough pace -- I believe they don't want to risk their engines overheating or revealing themselves to us..." She pursed her lips. "They are coming in above us. I believe they intend to board us."

I frowned. "Drop down onto our heads, huh?"

"Mr. Stinger has an idea on that front," Michelle crooned.

"No, no, no, dear," Kate said, her hand going gently to Michelle's neck, caressing her with the faintly dominant edge she had used on...well, on me. Ugh. Why was Mistress so fucking hot? Kate. I mean Kate. Kate. Out of subby headspace now, you had to focus Kimmy.

"We're going to bait them. They draw close, and then once they come within range to drop upon our heads, we shall reverse the attack. Grapnel guns and fisticuffs and I believe we'll have quite a few people to question." Kate licked her lips eagerly. "Agreed?"

"...can I still use my shotgun?" Michelle asked, the bloodthirsty little bimbo.

"What part of questioning people did you miss, Michelle?" I asked.

"What part of beanbag round did you forget, Kimmy?" Michelle shot back.

We exchanged glares and Kate laughed.

The stealth ship drew closer and closer as Lisa watched the three of us -- chewing on one of her knuckles nervously, her eyes filled with clear fear. No idea why. We were going to kick ass once again. And yet, despite that confidence, despite the fact I had Kate and, I guess, Michelle backing me up...something gnawed at the back of my head. It was in the slow, steady way that the stealth ship drew above us. It was something in the radar signature that was pinging back at us. I frowned, then drew myself into the seat that Kate had vacated. I tapped at the console, trying to dig out what it was that was bothering me.

Amanda had once told me that in a dogfight, you always wanted the altitude advantage because altitude was energy. This was true of stealth planes as well as normal planes -- but the problem was in the boarding. They would need to drop their altitude to come above us -- but dropping their altitude would give them extra energy. Now, they could areobreak to slow themselves down while descending...

But why?

They should be lower than they were currently, shouldn't they?

The only reason they'd be that high up, my inner Amanda said, quietly. Is if they're gonna dive on us and shoot your ass off. Or...

"If they're not going to board at all," I whispered.

"Hmm?" Kate asked, but I was already taking hold of the stick. I yanked hard to the left...

Seconds before the pair of invisible beams whipped from the plane above us. Because I had angled us, one of them merely sliced off the tip of the left wing with a spray of molten aluminum and sparking components. The other one, though, swept from the base of the right wing to the middle of our fuselage, cutting through the metal with the smoothness and speed and eerie silence of a hot knife through butter. The silence lasted only until the fuselage split and air screamed at us, roaring from the pressurized cabin out into the air beyond.

Worse, a long distance passenger jet had the glide coefficient of a brick. And with only one wing, we began to tumble, whipping around and around and around.

The only mercy was that rotation smashed Lisa, Kate and Michelle against the wall on the opposite end of the crack, while I was strapped into my seat with enough heavy duty leather that I'd need to be cut out by a chainsaw. That didn't mean that we weren't in serious fucking trouble though. The plane was plunging towards the Atlantic, and the crack in the fuselage was getting bigger and bigger by the second. I gritted my teeth, hard, and then tried to right our spin, but it was hopeless.

"Michelle!" I screamed over the roaring. "Blow! Blow out! Now!"

Michelle, her face contorted into a rictus of pain by the pressure and the hurricane force winds blowing against her, didn't bother to nod. She instead just wrenched her arm away from the wall, grabbed onto her chest, then pulled one of her gadgets free. It was a shaped det cord wire. She flicked her wrist out and, with expert timing and reflexes, she coiled it with a lasso like twirl, so that the det cord landed in a perfect circle around herself and the hull.

"On three!" She shouted as I looked down at my seat. I started to grab at my restraints, then saw the escape switch. I tried to reach for it, but the plane wrenched hard and my hand smashed back against my chest. I gritted my teeth and, out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Kate.

She had pulled her Makerov.

I remained very still.

"Three!" Michelle shouted.

The det cord blew and ripped a hole in the wall of the plane and the three of them dropped away from the fuselage as if they had been in a bathtub with the plug yanked away. Kate, though, kept her pistol aimed square at me.

She fired.

The bullet ricocheted off the ground and hit the toggle precisely in the right direction to pop the escape hatch.

WHOMP.

I shot straight up and out of the plane -- which had chosen that moment to decide to utterly disintegrate. Good news: I wasn't in it.

Bad news: The escape chair's chute hadn't deployed. I looked back -- and then my eyes widened and my dick immediately got rock hard. Because I saw the reason why it hadn't deployed: The deployment mechanisms had been fouled. Smashed. Actually. The last little bit of kinetic energy in the bullet that Kate had fired had been spent in gumming it up -- she had pulled off a trick shot to get me to eject, but then also, keep the chute from deploying. I saw why a second later as I saw Kate and Michelle, both of them holding onto Lisa's arms, arrowing through the air towards my chair, their bodies angled to catch the wind.

I gave them a cheerful thumbs up as my chair slowly rotated on its axis, and then snatched onto Michelle's arm with one hand, and Kate swung Lisa onto my lap and grabbed onto the other end of the seat.

Below us swept the whole Atlantic ocean, glittering and beautiful and pitiless.

Kate fired a second shot, right past my ear, and as my ear rang, the parachute kicked on and I nearly bit my tongue in half. The chute deployed, the chair whipped up against my bottom and the three girls cuddled against me -- and then we were in the eerie stillness that came after a proper chute deployment.

"Well," I said, once I could work my jaw again and speak properly. "That went well."

"How did you know they were going to attack, my dear?" Kate asked. "And what was that?"

I grinned, puffed up my chest, and opened my mouth. "Well-"

"An adapted anti-missile system," Michelle butted in. "They were built in the 80s to shoot down ICBMs"

"Well, that'd have made the Cuban Missile Crisis considerably less alarming," Kate said, her voice dry as she twirled her pistol and holstered it -- holding onto the seat with a single arm, her dainty gestures seeming to belay the amount of strength she would have needed for it. She rolled her shoulders. "This chair has a deployable raft in it, but we still have the issue of where to go then."

"There's a SIB along our course," I said. "Used to be the Ice Queen's, before we put her away back in 2012."

"SIB?" Kate asked, laughing. "Oh, you mean a MASLRFNP."

"...I..." Lisa, who looked like she was finally managing to think properly after the noise and excitement of the last few moments. "I...beg my pardon, are you two having some kind of stroke?" She asked, and I laughed, rocking my hips to grind my girldick bulge against her ass, making her squeak and flush even harder than she already was.

"Secret Island Base," I said, chuckling. "Not sure what the 1960s version is."

Kate smiled, then began to extend her fingers -- even if she had to then count her fingers back to get to the final word, leaving her with a single pinkie extended. "Mysterious and Sequestered Landmass, Repurposed for Nefarious Purposes."

"I can see why they changed it," Michelle said, dryly.

"I can't, that's rad," I said.

"Yeah, but if you had your way, we'd all be in gogo boots and sequins," Michelle said, smirking at me. "Free love, weed, and psychedelic rock."

I grinned. "And you think that's bad because..."

Michelle opened her mouth. Closed it. Then, looking quite smug, she said: "Comes with Vietnam."

I scowled at her -- and our conversation was interrupted by the Atlantic smashing into us at parachute speeds. Which was an improvement over the alternative, but not as much as I'd wish. The chair began to sink and I hastily shoved Lisa away from me -- swimming down after the chair. I grabbed onto it and held on as it dragged me down -- and found the right lever. I pulled, hard, and the raft swept out and slammed me up. Water sloshed away and I coughed as all four of us began to bob in the water, bouncing and jouncing slightly.

I sighed. "Well, uh, there are oars-"

I paused as Michelle began to fiddle with her little mini-stinger.

"How did you keep a hold on that but not the radio transmitter, the hand computers, the girlification pills..."

"As if we'd drop from the sky without girlification pills," Kate said, clucking her tongue under her breath as she patted her pocket, rolling her eyes. Somehow, despite being dunked in the Atlantic and dropped from the sky in a flaming wreck, she still managed to look poised and responsible.

"Well, good," I said as Michelle finished her fiddling. It looked like she had taken off the explosive tips on each of the micro-rockets, extended a flexible framework, and then socketed the rockets into them. As she settled the whole contraption against the very back of the raft, I realized what she was doing. I hastily looked up to the sky, checked the sun, did some mental math, sticking my tongue out of the corner of my mouth. "That way." I pointed to the east.

"You sure about that?" Michelle asked.

I smirked. "I was pretty fucking sure about the bad guys being able to laser us, so, yeah, I'm sure about it."

Michelle glared at me. I glared at her.

Kate clicked her tongue.

"Girls," she said. "While this has been amusing, you two are going to need to settle this animosity once we reach the island. But...for now..." She gestured to Michelle and Michelle pulled the trigger on her mini-stinger's handle.

The raft shot forward with a scream and sent up a massive plume of steam behind us.

Ahead, the island of the Ice Queen began to rise up out of the waves.

***

The raft hit the sand and Michelle and I both sprang out of it, hastily, trying to get ahead of Kate and Lisa before the other could. The two of us landed, shoulder to shoulder, and I spun to face her, shoving her away, scowling.

"I'm taking point," I said.

"Like hell," Michelle said.

"I got us here!"

"Wow, you built the rocket engine that got us here?" Michelle asked, her hands going to her cheeks. "I didn't notice, I must have been so distracted by your big fat head to even notice."

"The only big fat head here is my-"

"Ladies," Kate said, firmly.

The ground under our feet opened up and Michelle and I dropped straight down into darkness, the sunlight cutting off a moment later as the beach closed up again. I fell, and fell, and fell, my back skidding against metal and my chest bumping against Michelle, but then we hit a sloping ramp to the side and began to skid deeper.

And I knew, as I tumbled with grunts, groans and mental curses, to the core of my being.

This was all Michelle's fault.

***

On the beach, Kate looked down at the trap door as it crashed shut and the sand shuffled itself automatically back over it -- making it seem as if Kimberly and Michelle had never been on the beach at all.

"Are they dead!?" Lisa exclaimed, her hands going to her mouth in horror, her eyes wide as saucers as she looked at the pit that the two other T.A.S.K agents had dropped down.

"No, this island was owned by a S-level threat to humanity," Kate Thorton said, her voice dry and calm. "Surely, that drops into a dungeon -- and without the local henchmen to run it, or the death traps running, those two will be easily able to escape. For now, let us find the headquarters..." She bit her lip. "After one little thing."

"Oh, what?" Lisa asked.

From behind, Kate's hands reached forward and tugged Lisa's blouse forward, so her youthful tits sprang into the bright sunlight, gleaming faintly with moisture and sweat.

"Oh!" Lisa exclaimed.

"That was a very silly question, my dear..." Kate crooned in her ear, her fingers beginning to gently roll Lisa's nipples as she pressed up against her back.

Lisa, trying gamely to remain worried about Kimberly and Michelle, mumbled. "V-Very...silly...oh Mistress..."

The two drew down to the soft white sand, pausing only to brush the sand flat, and ensure the toxin dart launcher was angled away before it deployed its barrage. There were only going to be little deaths on this beach.

But it seemed that Kate Thorton was quite intent on making up for their scale by ensuring...their quantity.

***

The descent ended with me and Michelle tumbling straight out into an open air pit that dropped directly down two meters into a hard metal floor. The two of us struck with a roll and came up to our feet, panting heavily. I winced, checking my body mentally -- but other than a few bruises and a scrape I could ignore, I was essentially fine. Michelle was the same way. Or at least, she looked the same way in the dim light of the circular pit we were in. I frowned and pulled out a small penlight and swept it around me, my brow furrowing as I saw we were in a two meter by three meter pit. The wall was discolored, faintly.

Michelle, who had pulled a combat knife from somewhere, scraped it along the wall.

"Acid residue," she said, shaking her head. "This was an acid pit."

"How long does it take acid to evaporate?" I muttered, rapping my knuckles against the pit.

"I dunno, not long apparently," Michelle said as I knelt down and cupped my hands. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna boost you out," I said, frowning. "Or did you plan on just staying in the empty acid pit until starvation gets us?"

Michelle snorted. "Yeah. Right. You'd just love that."

"What, dying of starvation?" I muttered.

"I can get out of this pit by myself, thank you very much," Michelle said, smugly, and I scowled as I stood up.

"Can you now?" I asked as she stepped backwards, then sprinted forward. She ran up the side of the pit then kicked off as hard as she could, sailing upwards and flipping her feet over her head. She landed, belly first, on the side of the bit, all the air exploding out of her with a wuuf. She groaned and laid there as I put my hands on my hips, smirking at her. "Wow. So grace. Much elegance."

"Fuck...you..." she groaned.

I shook my head, then grabbed onto her combat knife.

"Hey, d-" She started, trying to push herself to her hands and knees.

I slammed the knife into the wall, leaped up, then used the hilt as a push to get myself up and over the edge. The knife snapped in half at the last second and clattered back down to the ground. I came to my feet as Michelle groaned, then shoved herself to her feet.

"That was my fifth favorite kind of knife," she said.

"Wow, such a close attachment, you have, like, three others on you," I said.

"You don't know that," Michelle said, glaring at me.

"One in the ankle, one at the small of your back, and one in your wrist sheath," I said, counting them off on my fingers as I stood across from her.

Michelle's glare grew as acidic as the acid that wasn't in the pit anymore. "No I don't."

"Yeah, you do. Cause that's where I'd put them..." I frowned at her, my hands on my hips. "And you're just a cheap knockoff of me!"

She started to pace to the left. I started to pace to the right. The two of us kept the pit in the middle of us. I noticed that we were essentially in a collection of pits -- a six by six row of them, each empty of acid, the whole room lit only by dim emergency bulbs and the faded illumination of the few remaining ceiling lamps. Two ancient looking, rusted over doors led out of the room -- one yawning open, the other sealed shut with a heavy duty latch.

"Me the knockoff!?" She asked. "You're the one who is like me, but with less high explosives."

"Less tact," I said.

"Less balls," Michelle shot back.

"Less skill," I said.

"Oh, fuck this," Michelle said, rolling her shoulders. She grabbed onto her little vest, tugging it off. I began to unbutton my overshirt, frowning as I did so. I slid my overshirt off as she tossed her vest away. Her knuckles cracked as she rolled her head. I rotated my shoulders in a slow, steady circle, then twisted my head from side to side, hearing the soft pop in my neck. The quiet, deadly energy of the moment build as I and her glared at one another.

"Once this is over," I said.

"You're gonna be-" Michelle started.

"Sucking my dick!" we said at the same time.

We stood still, glaring across the pit.

Michelle snapped her wrist and her pistol popped into her hand. I flung myself left and drew at the same time -- my Glock roaring as I sprinted towards the opened hatch door. Her pistol filled the air with gunsmoke and flash as she traced my pattern. I rolled through the doorway as her pistol exploded -- and mine was wrenched from my hand by one of her bullets. I came to my feet just in time to spin around as she came through the hatch and thrust her knife at me.

I ducked, reached back behind her, then drew her third knife from the sheath she had strapped to the small of her back.

I came up to my feet backed up as she slashed at my belly, then parried her knife with my knife. Sparks flew, and then she slammed her head into mine over our locked blades. My back crashed into the wall and she forced my knife up and against my own chest, so that I had to lock my arm to keep her from getting my blade out of my hand. I clenched, then scowled and managed to slip back and to the right. I stepped out over a hatch door and into a narrow gantry-way that ringed a huge, underground factory. The only light came from a few heavy duty windows that were angled and faced what looked like an inland lake. Fish swam past the cracked windows, and water puddled and pooled along the ground, slowly seeping through the decaying base.

I gave ground to buy time, panting as Michelle slashed, slashed, thrust, and stabbed. I parried high, low, ducked, then dropped my knife from my dominant hand to my equally dominant other hand because S-Treatments, bitch! I got into Michelle's guard, but she twisted, leaped, put her feet on the wall, then kicked away from me. This gave her the leverage to pop my knife free -- but it also sent her hurtling over the side of the catwalk.