We Few, We Happy Few, We Band of Brothers and Sisters
Chapter 10

Copyright© 2013 by LughIldanach

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 10 - Early in the Swarm Cycle, U.S. intelligence starts working with the Confederacy. An exceptionally capable, but self-questioning, expert builds the strategic intelligence function, and also his household and clan, fixing up some past relationships with very smart and sexy female colleagues. This is a story for people that like detailed military things along with their sex, and want backstory.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   BiSexual   Science Fiction   Space   Swinging   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Leg Fetish   Military   Science fiction adult story, sci-fi adult story, science-fiction sex story, sci-fi sex story

Month -04. Terry's next two candidates, Catherine and Kim, were both superb engineers and intelligence professionals, as well as charming and incredibly attractive women. He wanted to step beyond their professional relationship and into a personal one. In fact, he had tried and failed, some time earlier, to become romantic with Catherine, and hadn't been quite sure how to approach Kim.

Both already aware of the Sa'arm threat, and both had just-below-Sponsor CAP scores that the AIs admitted were preliminary ... Both, he suspected, especially Kim, were concealing aspects of their personality, and perhaps had even concealed them from the CAP tester. He had delightful trouble trying to decide if he was more attracted to them professionally or personally.

He also suspected, in his past dealings with them, that he had been rather dense in not picking up emotional cues from them. At one point, he had spent long hours kissing and fondling Catherine, which was more intense for him than all-out sex with other women. For some reason, it went no farther. He had also gotten some very flirtatious cues from Kim, after they no longer worked for the same organization. Much later, he heard, from his second ex-wife, about conversations in which Kim might have been exploring their receptivity to a threesome.

Dolores and Mary didn't know either of them, although Dolores mentioned that Denise might have laughed to her about poor Terry, not noticing the looks both Catherine and Kim had given him.

Since Catherine split her time between NSA and DIA, they would start with her. "Mary, when you talk to Catherine, I think you would be best in a sexy power suit: red, short skirt, moderate heels. Don't go too far, but you definitely want to get across that you are no mouse if you encourage her out of her shell. Full makeup, but the sort you would wear to lead a meeting -- and dominate it -- rather than going out to clubs.

"Sound right to you, Mary? Dolores?"

Dolores had an intuition. "You said she might be a submissive and like to be bound -- that's what I got although you weren't quite ready to say it. Let Mary help draw that out. Black knee boots with about four-inch heels. Make the suit high-fashion soft leather--red still can work."

Mary agreed. "Yes, I like the image. Maybe white -- that might work better with my coloring. Lots of suggestion but nothing specific."

Terry said, "I do remember that she seemed to like sort of reddish-brown hose when she was feeling more sensual, and she'd wear thigh-highs rather than pantyhose. Do that yourself. I don't know if she has done anything with women. Maybe you should explore how she responds if you get more dominant. She has to meet Dolores anyway, so bring her in to make a pass when she's ready. While I'll introduce you, I want you to get her ready for me--no way in the world I want to upset her, and I don't want to press too hard.

"Mary, you can mention its Confederacy related experimentation at first, and that you are authorized to offer body tuning right away. That might even be something we do very early, even before she sees Dolores."

Mary and Dolores went off to prepare and primp. They went to the office replicator and ordered Mary's clothing. Both the suit and the boots were soft leather, the sort that people want to stroke, but still high-authority.

Over the in-house secure network, he sent Catherine an email asking her to come to his office as soon as possible. She responded in a few minutes and said she was on the way over.

She buzzed, and came in.

"Catherine, we have a project that very few people but you could do. With only a little help, you would have the total responsibility of figuring out a set of unconventional sensors and the entire electronic warfare (EW) and signals intelligence (SIGINT) campaign against them."

Catherine shook her head. "To use a technical term, what the fuck? We've got a solid handle on every military sensor system on Earth."

"Precisely," said Terry. "Keep thinking along those lines and you'll figure it out. So far, you are absolutely right."

"I have to figure out something that we don't know about at all when we know the basics on every system on the planet ... Oh! The Sa'arm." Terry nodded.

"Even more critical than the radar, is the broad problem of how the Sa'arm communicate and -- for want of a better term --compute. If computation has to involve multiple physical Sa'arm, which it appears to do, there has to be some sort of communications among them. From what the AIs say, the inter-Sa'arm communication is not electromagnetic, and they do not know what it is.

"Even if you can't identify the force, you and Siobhan Collins – you've met her --, when she joins us, know a lot about information theory. Whatever they use, it has to have a minimum symbol transfer rate for them to be able to coordinate. Some of the Earth Confederacy people get very confused about the idea that symbol flow does not mean language. Nevertheless, even if they have an unknown organ that lets them create space-time continua in which they give each other PowerPoint presentations, I personally regard information theory as something as basic as atomic theory. Subatomic theory complements it, but even Newtonian physics works under a certain constraints.

"If you threw me a ball to catch, and I tried to go into non-Euclidean geometry to figure out how to catch it, I'd drop it. On the other hand, I'd probably drop it if I used Euclidean geometry; I'm a klutz with most sports involving thrown balls. Other forms of balling, however, are quite another matter.

"For now, you and Mary go talk about the team, and, when you're back, we can get back to the project. You need to figure out if you would be comfortable almost totally isolated from any other human experts, but with the rest of us supporting you every way we can--like a family, really. We haven't gotten every slot in the team filled yet, but we have candidates."

Terry looked at Catherine. "Before you leave, let me ask a question. I have my own link to the AIs, and they tell me that you have one of those "provisional" just-below-sponsor CAP scores. Why do you think they didn't give you Sponsor? You're a brilliant woman, who knows more about electronic warfare than almost anything. They don't seem to give high scores to highly technical women – maybe it's emotional?"

Catherine blushed. "Terry, you probably have some ideas. Maybe I'm a little inhibited, or a lot inhibited when we were making out and you were so hot for me? Now, it wasn't that you were very good about communicating, either.

"It's not that I don't love hot sex. I think it's partially because I have trouble talking about it, or even flirting. I like some bondage, but more as meditation than kink."

"Yes, that makes sense. It has you with an overall low sex score, and a low leadership score. Mixed on aggression, in a way that I think underemphasizes military skills that aren't direct combat."

"On the electronic battleground, I'll find them for the combat troops to kill them with things that go boom. I'll destroy their little electronic minds."

"Ah. The AIs don't think, or so I think, of electronic warfare and ISR in general."

Mary took Catherine to a casual conference area, and had them sit in some soft leather chairs around a table. There was nothing kinky about the furniture; the black leather upholstery, with silver studs, could just be a modernistic design flair that went with the polished metal of the table supports. On the other hand, it wasn't your ordinary office furniture. In a government office, it would be seen only with a very high officer who could order custom things, or just decorate out of pocket.

"Nothing at all formal. Terry brought in a God's Blessings machine for Irish coffee. I am getting one. Would you like that, or something else? Believe it or not, we have a full bar."

"I can't resist something called a God's Blessings. Sure, I'll join you."

Mary pulled back a panel. The machine ground coffee beans, whipped cream, and bubbled and brewed. With a satisfied sounding hiss, it extruded a tray with two clear glass cups. Mary reached for them, and toasted, "To us, and damnation to the dickheads!" Sipping their drinks was calming, and Catherine could not resist the luxury chair -- she pulled up her legs and curled into its leather embrace. She curled gracefully. With her green-gold eyes, she reminded Mary of a cat.

"Catherine, you'd have to use bad makeup to cover up your gorgeous eyes and complexion. Your hair is lovely strawberry blonde, almost gold. Yet your clothing does absolutely nothing to enhance your looks. Obviously, you choose to do that. Do you do that to avoid passes at work?

Her usual style of dress was preppie to casual. She did not spend much effort on her actually striking appearance, and tended to be most distracting in clinging jeans and pants that showed the rippling power in her legs. Catherine enjoyed distance running and cycling. Her bodyfat, around 15 percent, and musculature confirmed she was an occasional marathon competitor.

Catherine blushed a bit. "Yes, this has to be frank. No, while I don't want sexual confusion at work, I don't socialize all that much, and change into other things mostly for workouts." She laughed. "While I didn't realize it at first, I get a lot of attention just in tight jeans. Terry doesn't think I noticed it, but when I first met him, he couldn't decide whether to stare at my face or my ass, in some old clingy jeans. He definitely doesn't think my ass is too big.

"After a weird childhood and a mostly bad marriage, I don't want to get involved unless it's just right."

"You mean, Catherine that you are saving yourself for marriage?"

"No, not quite. It wouldn't have to be a marriage, but the way my head works, I want ... oh, hell. I'm submissive in my personal life, although I can be quite assertive professionally. I want a dominant man. I thought my ex-husband could be that. He was an artist and I liked posing for him, including in bondage -- and I liked some of the bondage. Unfortunately, he really didn't have a clue about the dominant psychology and what I, as a submissive in private life, wanted.

"Dammit! I don't even know if he remembers it, but I once accidentally included some of the shibari bondage drawings in my briefcase. Terry saw it and looked away, as if not to embarrass me. When I realized they were there, I held my breath, hoping they would excite him.

"Once, he stopped at my place to drop off a book, and I very carefully left out some new packages of lingerie, maybe to give a hint. He was oblivious. Now, you're saying, he's dominant enough to have concubines?"

"Well, yes and no, Catherine. Yes, he has accepted that he has to be dominant, at least in approved ways, to be a sponsor. No, he does not want to treat his concubines as mindless slaves. I'm a bit submissive myself, and I suspect he would treat willing service submissives as very valuable. AI! Tell Dolores, Code Black. Wait a few minutes and things will get, I think, more interesting. Another of God's Blessings?"

"Yes. Heavy on the Irish whiskey. I need it." She trembled.

The door opened, and Dolores came in. She wore a black leather leotard, stockings and above-the-knee platform boosts. Catherine was 5'10", but Dolores towered over her. "I speak with Terry's authority, Catherine. He will join us soon. Are you prepared to serve?"

Catherine gasped. "Oh, YES, milady! Forgive me, for I have not much experience of a dominant woman, but I am willing to learn. It appears all of you are asking me not simply to serve those people who direct me, but serve in a great cause."

Dolores looked at her firmly. "Yes, I think you understand. Technically, I am Terry's concubine, but I feel powerful. I look forward to joining my sisters and brothers in a common cause, and for common pleasure. Let us begin preparing you. Stand and remove your dress."

Accepting the Dolores' firm direction, she complied quickly. Her movements again reminding Mary of feline agility, Catherine flowed out of her curled position on the chair, and stood erect, with perfect posture. She slipped off her dress, but revealed rather plain white underthings, her panties covered by pantyhose. Dolores shook her head. "No, those won't do. We will get you more decorative lingerie, but for now, strip completely. We're going to get you perfect before we present you to Terry, although we might enjoy you a bit first." Catherine shivered.

"Tell me, Catherine," said Mary. "Are there things about your body that you'd like to be different?"

"I'm fairly happy with it. If I had wishes -- and maybe I do -- I'd like my knees and lower legs to have a better shape, I'd like breasts larger than my A cup but not huge. I have been told that my somewhat puffy nipples remind some of ripe strawberries. I'd like to enhance that look. High and puffy, and more red than pink.

"In addition, I'd like my eyebrows and eyelashes to have more color, maybe a red like the highlights in my hair. My hair could be longer on my head. Get rid of all body hair below the neck other than a landing strip of pubic hair, as long as it is reddish enough to contrast with my skin.

"That's about it on the beauty side. I am a serious runner and would like to improve my already good endurance, which probably means building my legs. I'd like more upper body strength. My hips are slim and I like that, but we should make sure there are no problems for childbearing. That's about it -- and I probably don't need any of it. I am really not ashamed of my body, but just haven't wanted to flaunt it. Now I have a reason. Oh -- high heel adjustments, and all the erotic enhancements."

Dolores looked pleased. "Let's get you into practice to receive orders. As sensuously as you can, undress Mary and please her with your mouth and fingers."

"Mistress ... Miss ... Ma'am", Catherine started to say.

"Unless you really need the titles, Catherine, just use my name. Titles tend to make me giggle and spoil the mood. I can be just as strong without them. Now, what do you want?"

"Dolores, there are things I used to wear when I was being sexy. I'd like some reddish tan thigh highs -- they call them cinnamon -- that will bring out the red in my pubic hair. I also would like some red high heels, 4" or so if not ankle strapped but I can handle 5" with an ankle strap. I do have some in my office."

"No need, Catherine. Tell the replicator what you need. AI! Accept Catherine's requests on my authority."

The panel pinged, and Catherine, breathing hard, took out her attire. She smiled as she drew on the stockings, looking around and licking her lips. She slipped on the heels, and then moved to Mary. Helping her out of her jacket, she kissed the leather, being sure to be seen doing so. Kneeling, she undid Mary's skirt and slipped it off, covering the exposed skin with kisses. Rising again, she unbuttoned Mary's blouse, to find bare pointy B/C cups.

"Oh, Mary," Catherine sighed. I want breasts like yours."

Dolores remembered her teaching role. "Catherine, what is it you want? No, not bosoms."

Catherine stopped, thought, and giggled. "Tits like Mary's? Firm lickable ice cream cones?"

Mary laughed and said, "By Jove, I think she's got it!" puzzling Dolores a bit, but getting a laugh in return from Catherine, who also liked musicals.

Catherine kneeled again, slipping off Mary's brief panties, and, just before lowering her head, sang, not too well, "The lips in Spain fall mainly on the clits." Her mouth then surrounded Mary's lower lips and clit, one hand sliding underneath to fondle her anus, while her fingers danced on Mary's slit.

No questions were left; Catherine was the last thing in the world from an asexual woman. CAP tests, it would be learned over time, did not always consider personality aspects that were suppressed; perhaps that was deliberate -- if it was suppressed, it could not be used. She brought Mary to a quick screaming climax, rather nicely for a first time.

As the two rested, Dolores went to the replicator and quietly requested a red, mini-length tube dress for Catherine. When all was calm, the concubines took Catherine to the medtube, repeating the list of enhancements and having Catherine confirm the visualization. "AI, how long will these take?"

"About two hours in the tube. She will be sleepy for six to twelve hours afterwards."

Mary and Dolores, with kisses, helped her into the tube. It was still late morning, so when they reported to Terry, they told him that if Catherine was to join in meeting Kim, they should do it the next day. The two said they wanted to help Catherine perfect her makeup before taking her before Terry, for the concubine agreement and for celebration afterwards. Dolores would stay with Catherine, while Mary would go make sure that Terry had a bed partner to complement his cats.

Terry had been wondering how things had been going, when a smiling Mary entered his office. As is proper, she first paid her respects to his feline associates, Misha and Mellors. "Catherine is out of the tube, and Dolores is staying with her for now." She crossed the room to sit on his lap. "We wanted to be sure there was someone around for you. Catherine is going to rest through the day, and then we're going to get her ready for a formal presentation to you in the evening."

Since Catherine was just waking, the three decided on a light breakfast. When Catherine called for a Continental Breakfast for three, Dolores raised a question. "You know, I've always wondered which continent. What if the replicator decides if it's Antarctica and it serves penguin food? For that matter, what do penguins eat?"

It was yet a new form of bonding when the rest of the ménage threw pillows at her. They returned the pillows to the bed, as they would apt to be needed. The two women then helped Catherine with bolder makeup than she had ever worn.

 
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