Not Your Average Joe - Cover

Not Your Average Joe

Copyright© 2016 by double_entendre

Chapter 22: Time To Go

Sex Story: Chapter 22: Time To Go - This is story inspired by, but NOT a part of the "Swarm Cycle Universe" about a boy genius who comes up with a plan to defeat an alien race known as the Vermin, that intends to invade Earth. Will he be successful in this venture? What complications will he face? Is he man enough to handle the sheer number of companions he's been issued, and can he live with the results of his actions?

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   mt/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   Coercion   Slavery   Lesbian   Fan Fiction   Science Fiction   Space   Aliens   Incest   Cousins   Group Sex   Harem   Interracial   Black Female   White Male   White Female   Oriental Female   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Pregnancy   School   War  

Many tears were shed on the day of our extraction, and I’m not ashamed to say that some of them were my own. Even though my group and I had been preparing ourselves for the journey, I couldn’t begin to describe the anguish we all felt at having to leave our planetary home.

Not for the first time, I questioned whether or not my plan was the proper course of action to take. Was that really the best I could devise, or did I give up too soon on finding a solution that would allow us all to stay safe while remaining on Earth?

We gathered at our designed meeting place and broke up into groups with the sponsors at the front of the line, followed by their companions. Although no one said anything to me directly, I received more than a few strange looks from both family and others who were invited to join us, as to the diversity and the sheer number of women I had chosen to take with me.

Since Tom was still under treatment, he would be joining us later in the week. I knew that made Megan a bit nervous but, other than reassuring her yet again that they would be together shortly, there was very little I could do about it.

We were each issued unbreakable digital wrist bands that indicated, among other things, whether we were a sponsor or companion, to which group we belonged, and whether we participated in open group swapping or were private. I know I pissed off a number of people when I opted to keep my group private. That didn’t mean I couldn’t still share my harem, it just meant that such arrangements had to be negotiated on an individual basis.

Over the two-week trip to our new home, I did turn down more than a few requests for my companions. I must admit some people took exception but, other than being called a few choice names, my refusal to share failed to generate any major conflicts, thankfully.

Tom joined us a few days into our trip and, although he was still a bit sore, I was delighted to see him up and walking. When I examined where he’d been wounded, I was amazed to discover that I couldn’t even tell that he’d ever been injured. I knew it would still take a while for him to heal properly, but I was fairly certain, under Megan’s care, he’d eventually make a complete recovery.

I designed our quarters to mimic a barrack style -- several individual beds for each of my girls, one main big bed which could sleep up to four people comfortably in a separate room for me, and another double bed in a different room for Tom and Megan.

The arguing and bickering started early, with everyone trying to establish their place in the pecking order. It became quite clear that, if I was ever to have any peace in my house at all, I needed to establish a very clear chain of command.

I decided, instead of just choosing someone at random to lead my crew in my absence, I would give everyone who wanted the position a chance to demonstrate their efficiency, but it would come at a price. My assistant would have power over the rest of my group but, if I were ever called upon to get involved in any disciplinary action, the one currently in charge would share the same punishment as the offender. I needed my subjects to understand there were consequences to acting up, and I, as their sponsor, could be held accountable for their actions. It made things a little tense at first but, in the long run, my idea paid off in spades.

I spent most of the two-week trip in virtual meetings with the Char, doing lab experiments and choosing the rest of my companions. When we finally made it to prime sector 17 I had filled all my slots but, sadly, was no closer to finding a solution to the chemical problem than when we left Earth.

Meeting my research team was both an enlightening and daunting experience. There was only a half-dozen of us, but we all looked and acted so different that it made everyone a bit uncomfortable at times, to say the least.

Our communication problem was solved by each of us wearing wireless headsets that would translate whatever we said into the prospective languages of the recipients to whom we were speaking. We could choose whether to have our message be heard by everyone, individual parties, or even a predefined group.

I expected that Dr. Barbooski and I would migrate to one another since we were both familiar with each other’s work, but that didn’t happen. I quickly discovered he was more interested in expanding his own research on pain killers than finding a solution to our common problem.

The sad fact was that everyone there seemed to have their own agenda. While they were all accomplished scientists, it became clear that Harpo and Galantra were political rivals who hoped to cement their position with the Consensus by being the one to discover the compound that we planned to use to eradicate our mutual enemy. Collitrino and Domedia were out for revenge -- the Vermin had destroyed their planets and all but exterminated their races in the process. I just wanted to save the Earth and preserve humanity.

We tried functioning as a group, breaking off into pairs, and even working individually, each having their own idea of which direction our research should follow.

It became a competition, of sorts, to see which of us could solve the problem. While that can sometimes be a good thing, the fact remained that, even after three months had passed, none of us seemed to be making any real headway. We were all getting frustrated; knowing time was quickly running out. The Consensus had even opened up the competition again and began listening to backup plans, none of which, I’m told, were very promising.

Feeling the pressure, I began to spend nearly every waking moment in the lab, often sacrificing sleep, proper nutrition, and sexual fulfillment in a desperate attempt find the solution. It all came to a head late one night when the security personnel escorted my cousin Paula into the lab.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I questioned, stunned to see her.

“I’m horny, and the girls and I are sick to death of you spending every night here,” she stated.

“Look, Paula, I don’t really have time for this right now,” I pleaded.

“Well, make time!” she exclaimed. “You have a responsibility to keep your charges happy, and you’re not fulfilling it. Hell, I bet you’re not even eating properly!” She pressed.

“I eat when I need to,” I argued, just as my empty stomach let out a deep growl.

“It sounds like your body says otherwise. Don’t worry because I packed all of your favorites,” she said, indicating a rather large picnic basket she brought into the lab. “Once we’ve eaten, you’re going to fuck me senseless,” she proclaimed in no uncertain terms.

“Sweetheart, as tempting as that sounds, I really just can’t afford the distraction right now,” I argued.

“Are you expecting a major breakthrough in the next few hours?” she challenged me.

“It could happen,” I stated without much conviction.

“So where is everyone else?” she wanted to know.

“Probably in bed sleeping, but it’s not their planet we are trying to save,” I maintained.

“Look, if you don’t get some rest and maybe a bit of stress relief, you’re not going to be much use to anyone. How many nights this week have you spent here, anyway?” she asked me.

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