Psi Plague - Training

PSI Plague - Training Pt 2

Copyright (c) 2019 James Miehoff, All Rights Reserved.

This work may not be published whether for fee or free without this copyright.

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The following is a work of fiction and as such all characters mentioned herein are fictional and any resemblance to any persons living or fictional is coincidental.

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After saying our goodbyes to Leopold we walked back to the apartment in silence. Mostly. Mostly because I refused to rise up to the conversation bait Honey flicked my way like a fly fisherman who is sure there is a big trout out there just waiting.

It is not that I didn't want to talk to her and let her in, I just couldn't. Ever since that day the terrorists pulled the pin on that small nuke they stole from the Russians and my family shrank to just me, I get into these funks.

After we let ourselves in, Honey made a dramatic gesture of looking at the clock and announcing, "Look at the time. I need to get to bed so I am rested and ready for tomorrow. Tomorrow we are going to troll the electronics shops on the south side."

I nodded and made a non-committal grunt as I flopped into the recliner.

"Hmmph!" she commented and flounced off to the bedroom. When Honey flounces it is a sight worthy of an audience. Unfortunately tonight, her audience was sunk up to the armpits in a black miasma.

As I sat there despondently, a voice from the past crept into my consciousness. "Never let a night end angry or disappointed. Issues unresolved have a way of building up until they become overwhelming. Make your peace with your partner before either one of you goes to sleep." Sage words from my dead mother.

With those words ringing in my head, I got up and walked into the bedroom. Seeing Honey laying on her side on the bed, I walked up until I was next to her head. I bent down, gently kissed her and whispered, "I'm sorry."

The ghost of a smile caressed her lips as she whispered back, "Prove it by getting in here and rubbing my neck and shoulders."

I took the hint. My clothes hit the hamper in record time. I turned out the lights and snuggled up to her.

As with a lot of women who possess large breasts, she generally found it uncomfortable to lie fully face down on a bed. But she stretched out and rolled three quarters over as my hands found her neck and shoulders and began to massage. She began to purr.

It wasn't long before the purring turned into the long slow breathing of my sleeping diva. I ran my hands down her spine gently and then cupped her ass cheek. Without waking, she pulled my arm up and wrapped it around her waist and put her arm on it to make sure it stayed.

I was sure I wouldn't sleep, but the warmth of her body and the rhythmic sound of her breathing and I was asleep and deep into dreaming before I knew what hit me.

"NOW THEN, ALL THREE OF YOU CANDY ASSES CAN RUN 12 MILES IN LESS THAN 3 HOURS. SO IT IS TIME TO STEP IT UP. YOU SEE BEFORE YOU THREE PACKS THAT HAVE BEEN LOVINGLY AND TENDERLY PACK BY YOURS TRULY TO ADD A LITTLE MORE FUN TO YOUR FUN RUN TODAY.

"FOR OUR DELICATE LITTLE LADY, THERE ARE 20 POUNDS OF DAINTY LITTLE DELIGHTS CONTAINED IN HER HOT PINK LADYLIKE PACK.

"FOR MR. JOSEPHSON, WE HAVE A 30 POUND PACK TO CELEBRATE THE AMOUNT OF WEIGHT HE HAS LOST OVER THESE PAST FEW WEEKS. It is about 30 pounds isn't it Josephson?"

"SIR! THIRTY EIGHT POUNDS LOST! SIR!"

"WELL CONGRATULATIONS, JOSEPHSON! YOU ARE GETTING 30 OF IT BACK!

"AND FOR OUR STAR PUPIL, MR. SMITH, WE HAVE A 40 POUND PACK."

He didn't need to flash me that grin, but he did anyway. I hate that grin.

"NOW THEN. SINCE YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO GET THOSE PACKS ON WITHOUT SOME ASSISTANCE, TURN TO THE PARTNER ON YOUR RIGHT AND HELP THEN GET THEIR PACK ON. YOU BOTH CAN HELP MR. SMITH WHEN YOU ARE DONE.

"BY THE WAY, YOUR 3 HOURS STARTED TWO MINUTES AGO."

With that we all scrambled to get the packs on and get out the door.

It would have been too easy to just mark off a 12 mile course and make us run it. No, we had to be tortured further. On the track was an overhead sign board with four timer/counters. You slapped your button every time you ran under it and it registered your laps and flashed a colored light to tell you how well you were pacing yourself. Bright green if you were ahead of pace shading down to green if you on pace. Yellow, if you were falling off pace and red if you were behind pace. Bright red if you were really behind pace.

We all hated that board. I snuck out one night and set it on fire. Metalhead said he snuck out and knocked it over and stomped on it. Goth Girl wouldn't say what she did to it. But it was to no avail. Every day there was the board on the track looking like nothing had happened to it. Have I said we all hated that board?

I was flashing red on my last two laps after holding green for almost 8 miles. When I completed and headed for the door, Leopold looked at his watch and pushed the remote. The door swung closed. As I passed him, he grinned at me and said. "You almost made it. Don't feel bad. Nobody makes it on the first day with a full pack." I was just too damned tired to hit him.

If you didn't make it before he closed the door, you had to go to the front door and take the walk of shame through the building in your training suit. Everybody inside knew what that meant.

Plus it added about a mile to your hike that day.

My dream shifted before I took the walk of shame and I was at the firing range. I liked the firing range. Thanks to my enhanced optics, which I had never mentioned, I had a distinct advantage over the other two. I was almost as good as Leopold. The down side of that was he rode me harder than the other two and would do things to fuck me up. Putting a slightly larger cartridge in a clip so the gun would jam while we were doing a speed round, that was a favorite. I learned to empty the clips and reload them to avoid that.

Giving me a gun that had a slight bend in the barrel. Or a gun that had the rifling filed off so that it was like shooting a smooth bore. Just little things.

This time, there were no guns on the tables. The tables were covered with a large cloth so we couldn't see what was there. Down range instead of the usual targets, there were these department store mannequins looking things on tank treads. Things were looking interesting today.

"TODAY CHILDREN, WE ARE GOING TO SEE HOW WELL YOU REACT UNDER PRESSURE. BEHIND YOU ON THOSE TABLES ARE YOUR WEAPONS. IN FRONT OF YOU ARE YOUR ENEMIES. YOU ARE TO DISABLE, MAIM, KILL OR DESTROY YOUR ENEMY WITH WHATEVER YOU HAVE ON THAT TABLE. IMPROVISATION IS THE ORDER OF THE DAY."

"TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT YOUR ENEMY. HE WILL BEGIN ADVANCING ON YOU IN ONE MINUTE. TAKE THE SHEETS OFF YOUR TABLES AND EXAMINE YOUR WEAPONS."

"YOU MUST STOP THOSE AUTOMATONS BEFORE THEY CROSS THE BLUE LINE OR YOU ARE DEAD. YOU CANNOT CROSS THE YELLOW LINE OR YOU ARE DEAD. THAT IS ALL."

"THIRTY SECONDS AND WE WILL BEGIN."

I looked at my table. He was right. No guns. Several knives, some tennis balls, two hatchets, lighter fluid, rope and some other miscellaneous items were there on the table. I glanced at the other's tables and saw they too had some miscellaneous items, but no guns.

I heard the clunk as the automatons (they really were just mobile manikins) started up. I grabbed one of the hatchets and threw it directly at my enemy. It was a pretty good shot, I hit it between the eyes and the hatchet stuck. A robotic voice called out, "Damage 16%". But it didn't stop moving. Damn.

I grabbed one of the thin pieces of rope, folded it over and used a bit of duct tape in the center. Instant sling. I grabbed the rocks, put one in the center, spun it up and let fly. It made a solid body shot and the voice called out, "Damage 4%". I let loose with the other three rocks and got 6%, 1% and 3% more damage. 30% or so damage and the damned thing was almost half way to the blue line.

Think. Think. Think.

I could hear the others racking up damage, but not very much.

Tennis balls, lighter fluid. Was there a lighter? Yes. We were in business.

I burned my hand slightly on the first one but I was rewarded with, "Damage 1%" followed by "Damage 4%", "Damage 3%" and so on as the flames continued to burn. I soaked the second tennis ball down, a lot, and threw it at the manikin. As I hoped, the lighter fluid splashed off the ball and caught fire. There was a steady stream of damage reports coming now. By my count, it was at 80%. Soaked the third ball and let it fly. Perfect shot. The ball wedged in the armpit and burned like mad. The damage quickly mounted. Then I realized it was over 125% damage and the damn thing was still coming.

It was almost to the blue line. I glanced over and the other two automatons were well past the blue line. Actually they were continuing to hunt the other two.

Looking at the table, I grabbed the other hatchet and both knives. I stepped up and let fly with the hatchet. It was a good hit to the body and it actually rocked my enemy back. I took that opportunity to rush in with knives in both hands and stabbed it hard with both of them. "Dammaaagge foorrtty..." was as far as it got when its lights went out.

I picked up a knife off of Metalhead's table and sunk it deep into the side of Goth Girl's enemy. The lights went out without a damage report.

We both turned and kicked at Metalhead's foe. It went down and he started hitting it with a piece of wood that had a chain wrapped around it.

"WELL, FOR A COUPLE OF DEAD PEOPLE, YOU DID ALRIGHT." Before Leopold could continue, the dream faded and it was graduation day. Four weeks. In four weeks we found out that we really could do 200 pushups in a row. We could run 12 miles with a pack and not puke. We could kill a robot with a bunch of random shit. We could act like a team when we had to.

Leopold walked out and we all stood at attention. He smiled. Not grinned, a real human smile like a real honest to god human being would smile. I didn't think he could do it. "At ease."

"I am proud of the three of you. You stuck it out. Through all the sweat and pain and puking, you guys never quit. I have here your certificates of accomplishment. Jenny, congratulations, you have survived and unless I am mistaken you have lost some of that butterfat you came in with. I hope you continue to work out to keep up the good work. You are looking good.

"Josephson, congratulations, I am really proud of you too. I was pretty sure you were going to push the panic button and walk out. But you stuck it out. And like Jenny, you have shaped up quite a bit. Keep it up, work out and lay off the junk food and you are going to do great."

"Smith, congratulations! What can I say? You have put up with all my shit and you keep coming back for more. I wish I could have talked you into staying back with the grunts instead of going all front office on me, but you have to do what you have to do."

As he shook my hand and handed me the certificate, I cleared my throat. "Sir, may I speak?"

He stepped back and replied, "Certainly, son. You have earned it."

"I have been volunteered by a vote of two to one to thank you on behalf of the three of us. We all understand that we could have hit the panic button and walked out of here anytime, but none of us wanted to disappoint you. As a token of our thanks, we got you something that they don't sell in the commissary."

Goth Girl reached down into her gym bag and pulled out a bottle of single malt scotch and the three of us handed it to him together. I swear I saw a tear start to form for just a second.

He shook our hands again and had a hard time but finally managed a dry, "Thank you."

As he looked down at the bottle, I continued, "And I have thought a lot about what you have said about the front office verses the active side of the house." As he looked up, I unzipped my training suit and pulled out a small packet of papers. "I have been formally assigned to you for the full field agent training course. Beginning tomorrow."

As the dream faded, this time I am pretty sure I did see a tear form.

With that, I woke up. Glancing at the clock, I could see it was only 3:11. It was way too early to get up. But I couldn't sleep, so I carefully rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. I got some water and took a leak. Stretching, I went through some Tai Chi moves to stretch the kinks out. It was 4:51 when I crawled back in to bed. Despite my fears, I was asleep almost immediately.

As a dream formed, I was back in Chicago. I was nine and had just found out that my parents were missing in the aftermath of the nuke the fucking terrorists set off downtown. I could see a TV in the other room replaying the sight of the Willis tower leaning, leaning and then falling apart as it toppled over breaking into chunks. With all the seriousness of a nine year old, I knew my parents were dead.

The dream faded out then in and it was three years later and my aunt's latest boyfriend was teaching me how to hack into other people's accounts. He was good, but I was better. A year later, I moved my stash of cash into stocks. I guess it was my hormones rather than my head, but I bought LiveSx.

Sixty thousand shares that I bought at $0.50 a share, figuring they had to go up. Shares that dropped in value by 50% a week later. I was pissed and just about to sell off and take my lumps. Then they demoed LiveSkin(tm).

I sold half of those shares when the stock hit $200 a share. I moved out of my aunt's place a week later. The dream faded as I walked into my own condo.

As the scene faded back in, I was in the body modification clinic in Chiba City. I had just had the dewclaws implanted and despite the warning to leave them alone, I was fascinated just watching them move silently in and out. This was my third trip here and the other two trips had not disappointed. My optic implants were perfect. I'd had no issues with them over the past couple of years. In fact, I was zooming them in to watch the dewclaws flip in and out.

A whirl of images flashed and spun and danced through my head until I felt myself back in bed. My eyes were closed and I heard a click and a sliver of light followed by darkness and another click. I strained to hear and was rewarded with the brief sound of fabric rubbing together. Then nothing, until I felt something bumped the bed. Cursing silently I snapped my optics into night vision mode, and got almost nothing. It was too dark. I made a mental note to get a nightlight. Snapping down into infrared, I got a blurry image that I recognized as ... Goth Girl??!??

"Shhhh! It's just me," she hissed as she pulled back the covers and slipped under the sheets.

"What are you doing?" I asked quietly.

As she rolled over I could feel her naked skin against mine.

"Leopold said we should kiss your ass for helping us get through today. I can think of a lot of other places I'd rather kiss. --- Unless you'd rather have Fatboy do it," the last was said as she slid her hand down and began to explore.

"No, call me old fashioned, but I like the gentle touch of a woman. -- Oh!" the last being said as she found her target and slid her hand gently along my manhood.

"Good," she purred. "I caught you glancing at me while you helped me into that second skin of a training suit. I thought there was some interest."

"Oh there was some interest. I'm surprised my training suit wasn't a training tent," I shot back.

"Well then act like it," she said. "You have a hot and horny naked woman in your bed, so do something about it."

Just as I began to do something about it, the room faded to darkness and I found myself in bed stroking the front of a completely different woman. Disoriented, I stopped and tried to get my bearings. Just as I was realizing which one was a dream and which was real, the fucking alarm clock went off. Rolling over to shut it off, I heard a groan of disappointment and a soft, "You have a hot and horny naked woman in your bed, so do something about it."

The cognitive dissonance of the overlapping dream and reality locked me up until an arm slid over my chest and all one hundred eleven pounds of Honey pulled me onto my back, straddled me and slid me into Paradise.

"Am I the cause of all this?" she purred.

Knowing better than to try to explain that it was due to a dream, I growled, "Better get busy woman. We both have places to be in a little while."

Painfully aware of how little time we had, we each worked to give the other the most pleasure in the least amount of time, until we both climaxed together and collapsed. Honey kissed me and whispered, "Thank you, but I expect a much more leisurely bout tonight," as she rolled out of bed and headed for the shower.

Letting her have the bathroom, I checked my combat gear bag and added a running suit. Throwing some civilian clothes on the bed for going down to breakfast, I turned just in time to see Honey coming out of the bathroom in her birthday suit. A simple domestic scene, but it made me throb. I was so infatuated with her. To me, she was the perfect woman.

"Bathroom's all yours," she called from the closet, breaking the hypnotic spell.

I headed into the shower, knowing she would be gone before I finished. I still hurried to try for a glimpse, in vain.

Breakfast was nondescript. I don't even remember what I ate.

I hit the locker room in the training module. Torn between the running suit and hopes of a quiet day while Leopold was on protocol, I reluctantly got into the combat gear anyway. As I hit the training room, I could see the assistants rolling up the sparring mats and sliding them to the walls. This was bad. I think Leopold was pissed even if he said he wasn't.

As I surveyed the room Leopold came out with my sparring partner. Oh mother of god, it was Ginger.

I briefly described the Professor's bodyguards previously. Ginger was one of them. I don't know who stuck the nicknames on his bodyguards, but everyone referred to them as Ginger, MaryAnn, Gilligan and The Skipper. They were respected for a reason. I know it was only Tuesday, but I was really afraid I was going to disappoint Honey. I wasn't sure I would be out of the hospital by Friday.

"There you are Smith," Leopold called with a grin. "I said I'd get you a comparable sparring partner."

"Thanks," I called back desperately trying for a witty comeback and failing.

There was a sound of thunder that rumbled and resolved into words coming from Ginger, "You sure his toys are strapped down tight."

I just pulled up a sleeve, showing off the ballistic nylon wraps on my forearms. He looked and nodded.

I finished walking up to them. Staring up, I proffered a hand. "No hard feelings? I'm sure you would have done something similar if you were in my place."

Ginger looked at the hand for a second and then grabbed it. A grin split his face. "Ask me what I did in my interview sometime."

Leopold looked annoyed and spoke up, "ALL RIGHT. ENOUGH OF THIS luuuuve fest. TAKE YOUR POSITIONS AND LET THE SHITKICKING BEGIN. Standard Street Fighting Rules apply."

We each headed off to take our positions. Standard Street Fighting rules meant there were no rules. This was a very bad sign. When sparring with Leopold, we went no rules, but a tap or a safe word and we would break. This time, he didn't set up a safe word. I was well and truly fucked.

"BEGIN"

I started out circling left. Ginger took his cue from me and circled right. From his size and shape and the firmness of the handshake, I took him for a grappler. He would want to lure me in and then wrap me up in those big arms and break me in half. I needed to keep that from happening at all costs.

We were starting to get close and I still hadn't seen any weaknesses. Another few inches and --- he launched a lunging left hook. I dodged it easily and kept going down to avoid the right that followed. Interesting. I hadn't taken him for a boxer. My strategy shifted, and I lashed out with my right leg as I bounced off the concrete.