Hey yall, i'm back. Been immersing myself in the world of bikes, but i plan on actually making progress instead of disappearing after one chapter. This will be a lot of talking at first, probably boring for y'all. I'll get better, eventually. I don't have an editor, which might be a part of it. Also, I'm submitting this day before Christmas, so I consider my promise fulfilled.
Adam stood motionless as an internal war raged inside him. With a shuddering breath, he choked down the grief, the rage, even his humanity. He buried it all, put it in a jar on the top shelf of his mind. Fishing the dishrag from his sink, Adam swiftly went through the motions of cleaning up the shattered whiskey bottle.
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Helena waited in the darkness of the rank alley, her mind replaying the series of freak events that had gotten her forced into this mess. First, her boss files for a transfer: not something he would ever do, he was too committed to maintaining a close level of trust between employees. Then he gets replaced with someone nobody had heard of, and who had a perfect record no less. That was what had her on edge - nobody had a perfect record, especially not in the government's dirty division. It didn't technically exist, but it silently cleaned up any messes that might reflect poorly on the higher ups.
Helena burrowed deeper into her Kevlar trench coat. She didn't care much for trench coats, but the one she wore could stop a handgun and conceal a small rifle. Also, it was warm.
Just as it seemed like her contact was a no-show, someone popped into view at the end of the alley. Her breath caught in her chest, and confusion overwhelmed her as she watched the figure trudge through the shadows towards her.
"Here," he said, holding out a plain folder.
Helena had to clench her jaw shut to keep from moaning, she could smell her arousal wafting up through her trench coat. She accepted the folder with a trembling hand, quickly pulling out the contents so she could glance through them. Satisfied with what she saw, she stuffed the folder under her arm and reached into one of her pockets for his payment.
A small grunt was the only warning anything had gone amiss, until Helena noticed the tranq dart sticking out of the man's neck. He sat down calmly -too calmly- and put his hands on his head. Helena watched, feeling strangely disconnected from it all, as she moved forward and pulled the hood on his sweater back. Gorgeous... that was the only way she knew to describe him. She gently pulled out the empty dart and watched serenely as a full extraction team approached her. It was as if she was watching herself through a thick fog, one that got exponentially thicker as she threatened the extraction team with the tranq needle over something or other.
CHAPTER 2
Addict
Helena woke with a moan as she burrowed deeper into his chest. For the first time that she knew of, she was truly wet. She smiled and ground her folds against the thigh of her bedmate, her breath catching in her throat as the sensation echoed up her core. Claws waltzed down her spine, leaving her trembling.
Claws...
Helena's eyes shot open, drinking in the perfection that graced her bed. She scoured the apartment for any changes, the only ones being a large knife and huge revolver on her bedside table.
"How much do you remember?" her bedmate asked, his lovely baritone leaving her insides a gooey mess.
Right, question. Helena thought hard, her hand roaming across his flawlessly chiseled torso. 'i remember wanting you to fuck me senseless, but only after shoving your dick so far down my throat I can't breathe,'
"Would I be missing out if i didn't remember?" She asked instead.
He smiled at that, just a small one, but it left her stomach doing acrobatics. She clutched him just a little tighter, ground herself against him just a little. She watched enraptured as his face went through a vast array of emotions, breathing deeply of his rich scent as he settled into a sad kind of smile. Then he turned to face her, and any trace of sadness melted away.
"I'm afraid not," he grinned at her, those claws dancing up her spine once again.
That voice, it left her dripping, tingling all over, and the suggestion he let seep into his words... she ground into him more firmly, moaning into his perfect arm as her hand outlined his masterfully carved six, no eight pack.
"You must think I'm a slut," she mumbled as she fought down the urge to shove him down her throat.
"If I did, I wouldn't have let your hand wander so far south," his delectable baritone came from above her.
Helena froze, realizing why her hand seemed to have found a warm patch. Then those claws danced down her back again, and she groaned as the sensation ravaged her. She gasped, sucking in a ragged breath as she recovered, slowly pumping his cock while she ground against him.
She had to have him, now. What was left of her rational mind was screaming that this was not something that should be happening, but it was definitely happening.
She enveloped his shaft in one fluid motion, moaning as he bumped against the back of her throat. Backing off a bit, she sucked furiously on the head, before diving forward again with a purpose. Shoving her face into his crotch, she swallowed just as her gag reflex started to kick in, sinking down to the very base of his shaft. Pulling back until just the tip of his cock rested in her throat, she started face-fucking him for real, bobbing up and down at a rapid pace. Out of nowhere, hands were at the back of her head, pushing her down as he exploded down her throat. Her nose trapped between a cock and a hard place, Helena felt a massive orgasm building in response to the lack of oxygen. One hand feeling the bulge of him coming down her throat, the other rubbed her clit furiously through her drenched panties. Pleasure exploded through her, drowning out the sudden lance of pain that erupted in her skull.
Adam smiled gently at the redhead as she rolled off of him, flopping beside him in a post orgasmic mess.
"Fuck...," she groaned.
"I wish we had time for that. Just so happens, there's a succubus on the loose, along with who knows what else that I've been tasked with dealing with," Adam muttered through his after glow.
"Actually, you're supposed to take over the world," the redhead said with a smirk as information she shouldn't know settled into her mind.
"... The fuck!?"
A roll of his shoulders and his massive wings had launched him out of the bed to stand before one of the large windows that lined the bedroom.
"This!" He yelled, ripping away the curtains and pointing at the skyscraper across from them. "This is the world! An endless city we know fuck all about, where the only rule is don't bite the hand that feeds. We don't even know why the government exists anymore, other than to play at killing gangers!"
"Yeah, well, none of that matters anymore," the redhead shrugged.
"That's the worst part!" Adam screamed. "I'm told by PROXY that I'm supposed to make myself the most powerful man in this hellhole, and I'm already wondering if I can make an army of dispensable super thugs!"
"They don't have to be dispensable, and they don't have to be thugs. You're in a government building, let's make them our personal army. I can do a more sophisticated version of the mind fuckery that resulted in your cock down my throat, only the result would be an army controlled by your thoughts,"
Adam stared at her incredulously, before giving into the madness with a sigh.
"Get me some clothes and a grey trench coat, I might as well look the part. Blue jeans and a t-shirt though,"
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Gregory watched the Fed badge turn a deep shade of blue as it sat upside down on his stove, before picking it up in his assault glove and pressing it to his left cheek. It didn't hurt his hand, the glove was designed for use with bullpup rifles that routinely hit higher temperatures than what his stove could produce. His cheek, though... his wife might get upset before she heard the whole story. No matter, he had a job to do. He smiled as he tossed the ruined badge in his sink. At least she wouldn't have to worry about getting killed on the job anymore.
Putting on his combat vest, he ditched the ceramic plates before filling the webbing with a few spare mags, a flashbang, and a frag. Grabbing a pen and paper, he scrawled a quick note for when his wife got home.
'the Bear is active, I can't die of injury, I'm fucking you when I get home. Wear the plug. Gregory,'
Satisfied with his handiwork, he grabbed his bullpup and walked out the door, the bounce in his step still present when he got off the elevator forty six stories lower. He grinned as he greeted his four man team, all of them men he'd worked with for years. Suddenly a man with resplendent wings, feathers black as death, burst through the front doors.
"Kill everyone, forty-third Street, the door behind the bar. Keep any money for yourself, dispose of the drugs," Adam told the assembled team.
Spreading his wings, he gave a powerful flap which pulled him into the air, before heading towards the tallest building he could see. It was twice as tall as the surrounding skyscrapers, stretching skywards almost a kilometer. Every floor was lit except the top two, leaving a silhouette of black against the permanently grey sky. He flew straight towards the uppermost level, crashing boot first through the window. Air rushed inwards, sucking him in amidst a shower of glass before a steel shutter snapped closed over the hole. The air he had let into the room was immediately removed, although it seemed that lack of oxygen no longer affected him. The floor was tacky rubber, and a sleek humanoid drone hung from the wall. The bottom of its feet were a cluster of short needles. Adam shrugged and raised his pistol towards the drone, only for the drone to jump off the wall and surge towards him with impossible speed. His attempt to move out of the way was met with a strange sliding sensation from his thighs. Looking down, he realized that the strange drone had cut his legs off just below the dick.
He hit the ground with a thud, thankfully not having any air left in his lungs to be knocked out of him. Then the drone was standing over him, planting a very sharp foot on his chest, and ripping his arms off.
