Tamara Johnson watched the sun setting on the distant horizon. The Novo Brazilian sky was alive with orange and pink hues, it was beautiful. She studied her reflection in the window of her room. A snub-nosed, freckled face stared back at her, green eyes, curly copper hair, chopped short at her nape. Not bad. She had been trying to get more sleep lately and it appeared to be paying off.
She caressed her C-cup breasts, moving her fingers in circles around her perky nipples, so that they poked out from between the fabric of the black fishnet body-stocking that she habitually wore. It wasn't going to be long until the big show and having just recalled her first encounter in the Cave of the Werewolves, she was definitely getting into the mood.
Tamara smiled to herself, turning away from the view and back to her room. The mountain-top plane crash that had left her and Alice stranded in a cave had only been a year ago. And yet now, here she was, living back on the plateau of the Monte de Venus, in what was officially referred to as the Facility, (more informally known as the Valk-eyrie in honor of their fearless leader).
Tiny lay asleep on Tamara's bed, the young adult werewolf taking the opportunity to rest up in the warmth of the Facility's living quarters. She snuggled up next to him and flicked on a monitor. There was a perimeter fence in place around the base, but the whole area was also wired for sound and pictures, both inside and out. Not that anyone else knew this, outside of herself and Alice. Her boss had charged Tamara with establishing the base and during the build she had merely added some 'optional extras' into the design.
Tamara had always felt somewhat of an outsider but she liked to be in the know. Also, given the nature of this place, it seemed wise to be keep an eye on nocturnal activities. After all, tracking the behaviors of the humans living here, was just as much a part of their research program as studying the animals. She hadn't bothered to mention it to the rest of the party, as she wanted to study them naturally, with no play-acting for the cameras.
Ah, who was she kidding?! The Aviatrix had grown increasingly fascinated by sex since arriving here and loved to study how the others engaged in it.
She still wasn't sure as to why she had become such a voyeur. Maybe she enjoyed watching other couplings because she had always found it difficult to engage in committed relationships. A confused lesbian in her teens, she'd switched to celibacy during her university years, possibly missing out on a fair bit of what life had to offer, it was true. Following that, the Air Force had not been a great environment in which to figure oneself out despite some bisexual experimentation. Then came the Nordic job and her first meeting with Alice. She had loved it, of course, but it had meant a great deal of travel and very little in the way of routine or stability.
Not that Tamara had any regrets. Working for Alice had also allowed for some sexual release but with low emotional commitment. Think of it as a perk of the job. Still, to think that even in her late twenties, she remained a virgin was a little depressing. Over the years she had found humans pretty disappointing in terms of loyalty and had never really felt that special spark. So whether for a man or a woman, she was still saving herself for that special someone.
She gently stroked Tiny's flanks. He had been a very different monster when they had first met, but over the year or so that the Facility had been operating, they had grown closer and closer.
How had all this started? It seemed hard to believe that they'd come this far in little over a year. Rebecca had played her part, it was true. Tamara switched the monitor view to show Rebecca's room, but there was no sign of her currently. Rebecca Knight was Alice's spiritual instructor. Tamara understood that they had met through a yoga course some years ago and had really hit it off.
She was a plummy voiced Brit, who practiced Yoni Magick amongst other things, i.e. a self proclaimed sex witch. She also had a thing for the color purple and wearing thigh-high kinky boots, both of which clearly marked her out as a social deviant in Tamara's book. The Aviatrix had long been convinced that Bec was a total fraud, but she was now wavering slightly on this position due to more recent events.
Tamara cast her mind back as to how it had all come to this.
***********
The morning after the crash, they had been air-lifted from the mountain top, the search and rescue helicopter had easily seen the spirals of smoke from their wrecked jet.
Once safely landed at Sao Petro, Alice and Tamara had undergone some quick medical checks before flying straight back to Joyport in the business section of a commercial flight. They sat in virtual silence, each processing what had exactly happened to them on that first, fateful night on the mysterious mountain. Tamara cupped her water glass between her palms, lost in her thoughts.
Nothing on Earth would have possessed her to behave in that way normally. Was it a drug? An hallucination? There had been that strange feeling, that writhing within her, somewhat out of body but also as if her most base desires were given free rein. She didn't know what it had been, but it disturbed her greatly.
Alice looked across, reading her mind. "Don't worry about it," the older woman smiled, "Don't tell anyone else, and leave it with me to worry."
Over the next hours and days, Tamara tried to behave as advised, but the images and sounds of the night kept creeping back into her head at the most inappropriate times. Driving into work one day, her mind had wandered back to recall the feel of One Ear's cock in her hand and she'd narrowly avoided crashing into the rear of a suddenly braking station wagon. Passing by the lingerie shop in the underground mall every morning reminded her of Alice's red silken panties, shining in the firelight. Even seeing an ad for a dog shelter had made her wonder what Tiny was doing now, and if he missed her.
Little more than a week later, Alice had called her into her office for a 'private meeting'. 'Not that private,' thought Tamara, seeing the big Russian woman, Kat, standing guard by Alice's office door, as she often did. Everything else always seemed smaller when Ekaterina Igonova was present. She stood over 2 meters high, but didn't seem excessively tall due to her powerful form. She was an amazon in every sense of the word, an ex-Olympic wrestler and powerlifter.
Her platinum blonde hair was closely cropped, giving her a boyish look, but her ample EE chest immediately removed any possible confusion as to her gender. Somehow she managed to embody both male and female in one, hard and soft, a walking paradox.
Tamara got on okay with her, although Kat tended not to engage in much small talk. Tamara was also sure that Alice and Kat had something going on, although she had never witnessed any improper behavior in her presence.
Also present inside the office was the smiling Rebecca, wearing a typical fuchsia-colored dress and black thigh-highs. Rebecca Knight was a tanned, slightly older woman, still attractive and very limber indeed but with a few lines around her blue eyes that betrayed her life experience. It hadn't all been easy.
She came across as a bit of a 'nature child' and Tamara was convinced that Bec's C cup breasts had never even seen a bra. Despite this image, she also possessed a cut-glass British accent that ran totally against type. Tamara had often speculated about her background, as Bec certainly sounded like she could be an integral part of the English upper crust.
She typically wore her brown hair in a short bobbed style, with a baby lick curl. Overall, she had a languid but confident looseness about her that never failed to irritate Tamara. In fact, many things about this new-age Brit did so.
