Chapter 436

The Retreat

Around the time Jeff, Kayla and the architect were preparing to check out the living room in the soon-to-be fortress, Art walked into his suite followed by Bobby, Sandra and Hope. Since their little contretemps about the trip, things had been a bit off as far as Art was concerned. Oh, his wives had readily made love to him last night, but there was no spontaneity in their interactions either then or during their daily activities. They kissed him – when he initiated it – but he was certain they were holding back, and he knew why.

As they passed by him in the suite’s sitting room and turned toward the bedroom, he sat on the couch and called to them, “Ladies, we need to talk.”

All three women, stone-faced, sat, Hope on his right, Sandra on his left, with Bobby dragging over a chair to be near. “Yes, Husband?” Sandra said, oh-so-sweetly when she was finally settled.

Exasperated, he sat looking at them for a moment, his gaze catching first one then the other as he stared them eye to eye. “Enough of this cold shoulder bullshit. Let’s get this settled. All I said was that I had a job here and I could be a real agent and work out of an office instead of undercover, at least once Moreau is out of the equation.” They didn’t respond, and after a moment, he went on, “Look, the agency is paying me a salary even though I’m doing nothing but hiding. I can’t expect them to give me an extended leave of absence of a few years, especially, since I can’t even tell them why. It’s not as if I can put in an application for time off and list the reason as a tour the galaxy.”

“You paid your dues,” Bobby practically snarled, “and you almost died doing it – three times. Once when you were shot, then again when that bastard came to assassinate you, then at the safe house.”

“And ... if it were not for you two, not to mention Jeff and his team, I would be dead. I appreciate what you did and I love all of you, but I do have a job to do.”

“Why?” Hope injected almost before he ended the sentence.

“Why?” he stammered. “Well, they...”

Picking up on Hope’s thought, Sandra injected, “Yeah, why? And before you say anything else, let me finish,” she insisted, putting her hand up to block what he was going to say. “We have more money than we could ever spend. Jeff and Diana have seen to that, and that money is making more money than all of us put together could earn, thanks to Jeff’s investment guru. You’re also part owner of an ultra-expensive ski lodge and whatever else that darn thing is. The ski season is almost over, but they’re booked solid all the way into next fall with all the other things the place is offering. You do not have to work, and we – all of your wives – see no reason for you to risk your life doing it.”

As Sandra took a breath – the two nurses’ minds were always so in sync it was almost scary – Bobby continued Sandra’s tirade to say, “We’re all young, and ... we’ve all been enhanced. Jeff says there is no telling how long we will live – if something doesn’t happen to us. Well, that something could very well be another gunfight for you, or some damn assassin succeeding. It is not going to happen, Buster. We are not giving you up. You’re our man and we intend to keep you for many, many years.” Then as an almost afterthought, “Besides, we all want your babies.”

Oh, shit, Art wondered. Where did that come from? Then another thought struck and he voiced it without thinking it through. “And touring the galaxy has somehow become not dangerous? There has to be more danger out there than...”

“And just how could that be while we’re inside the most advanced starship ever created,” Hope said, adding her tidbit. “Didn’t Jeff say she had a dimensional shield that nothing could penetrate?”

Art realized his last comment had been shot down and tried to glare at her, but she winked back at him while pushing her chest out, deliberately calling attention to her aroused nipples. “They need to be sucked,” she whispered as sexily as she knew how.

“And ours too,” Bobby agreed as both sisters mimicked Hope’s thrust-out chest.

Sandra cleared her throat. “To start with, Moreau hasn’t been eliminated...”

“ ... Yet,” Art insisted.

“Yet,” she agreed. “So you can’t go back to work and have his ghouls descend on you. The FBI has proven it can’t protect you. If it hadn’t been for Jeff’s team ... and Ship, you and all those other agents would be dead – and us too. Moreau has proven he can field whole teams of mercenaries, so going back to work would be suicide. He’s even tried to kill you up here – repeatedly – and ... gotten spanked every time. What better place for you than aboard Ship touring the galaxy? The bastard certainly can’t find you untold light years from Earth.”

Bobby continued, “The General has already said that the FBI owes him bigtime, not to mention his other connections with them. One phone call and you’re on extended leave, or whatever they call it. Darnit, Baby, we all want to go with Jeff, Diana and the others. Of course, we would be even more pleased if you would just quit.”

“But I will need to testify when they catch him...” he tried, only to be cut off again.

“Not if Jeff or the General get to him first,” Sandra said. “You know that monster will never go to trial. What jury or judge would ever survive to try him? Do you think he would hesitate to have his mercenaries storm the courthouse, or wherever you were, in order to kill you, the judge and the jury that dared to try him? Look what he did at that supposed safe house in Atlanta. With all the money he has, there is always someone who will tell him where you are, but off planet, even he would be S.O.L.”

There was quiet for a moment while everyone thought. Bobby, grinning, got up to straddle his lap facing him while baring a breast. “I’m pussy whipped,” he mumbled as she pressed a dripping nipple into his mouth. Besides, he thought as his other two wives pulled his pants and undershorts down so Bobby could slide down on his cock, I really want to go, anyway. Maybe I could knock all of them up while we’re gone. It seems that getting pregnant is becoming a frequent topic of conversation between all the women, and the more I think about it, the more I like the idea.

Bobby was soon bouncing and wiggling so much, he lost her nipple. Putting his head back against the couch, he slid down a little so he could more easily thrust up into his wife as he imagined her first with a small baby bump, then waddling around with a fully distended belly. Pregnant women almost always looked sexy to him, and thinking of his wives being pregnant was even more of a turn-on. He hardly noticed when someone snatched Bobby’s top off, but he did appreciate it since he didn’t have to hold her top out of the way to watch her breasts bounce and jiggle as she rode him toward orgasm.

She alternated her up and down movements to occasionally squirm on him while he was balls deep in her. The head of his cock rubbing on her cervix produced pleasure/pain that soon sent her over the edge to scream out her orgasm while her bouncing breasts continued to spray thin streams of milk onto his shirt.

After a quarter hour and several more orgasms for her, he jammed his cock all the way in to spray her womb with his seed, which sent her over the top yet again. This time, the orgasm went on and on until she sucked in a big breath of air to wail out the last of the ecstasy pulsing through her pussy, and passed out cold. His cock jerked out the last surge of sperm laden semen against her cervix while she lay slumped across him with a silly grin on her face.

Hope ran to get pillows from the bedroom. Only then did Art realize that Sandra must have been touching Bobby, because she was slumped over on the couch, also out. Gently, he laid Bobby on the carpet as Hope slid a pillow under her head. A moment later, they had Sandra lying beside her sister.

“Now me,” Hope said with a grin as she laid over the arm of the couch to look back at him. “Breed me, Husband. Make a baby in me,” she said in the sexiest voice she could muster.

Art knew that Little One hadn’t restarted Hope’s reproductive system, so there was no possibility of her getting pregnant, but his cock was bone-hard and he had no problem practicing baby making. Neither did Hope have milk like Sandra and Bobby, but she had a marvelous set of breasts for him to hang onto while he fucked her, and he did just that.

Hope was extremely excited after watching him with Bobby, and she went off almost before he was fully seated in her, her pussy locking down on his cock, spasming and milking it as she whined. After she came down from the orgasm, he stroked his cock into his beautiful young wife, yet again marveling at his luck in having the three women as his mates. Not only had he survived the gunfights, but just as importantly in his mind, he had wound up with the three most beautiful women in the world. Of course, the other Alphas would argue that point, but an unbiased observer would be hard put to decide who was the most beautiful of all the women, since Little One had enhanced them all.

“Fuck me!” Hope ordered as she thrust her hips back at him. With a firm grip on her breasts, Art set about doing just that.

Quite a bit later, he filled her womb and pussy with his seed, then slumped on the floor to catch his breath while Hope, her pussy oozing cum, dozed with her naked ass hiked over the arm of the couch.

With a sigh of resignation, “Guess I need to talk to the General,” Art said quietly to himself. “No doubt I’m pussy whipped, but damn, it surely is good pussy.”

Unknown to him, Sandra and Bobby were now awake. They smiled as they grasped hands. Bobby turned to her side to whisper into her sister’s ear, “Do we still have any of that stuff left that gets semen out of upholstery?” There were several large spots that would need attention if the couch were to ever look normal again.

“Yeah,” Sandra replied with a grin. “I brought a new bottle in from the supply closet when we hatched our plan. Nurses have to be prepared.” When the women giggled, Art looked a question at them, but the giggling only increased.

“Women,” he said, but he had a great view of their p”ussies as they lay there, and his cock was already hard again. “Uh, suppose we adjourn to the bedroom for a further discussion of the subject?”

“An excellent idea,” Bobby and Sandra said as one.

“We’ll turn down the bed if you’ll bring sleeping beauty,” Sandra continued with a giggle as she motioned to Hope who lay with her ass humped in the air while snoozing blissfully on the couch.” Then as another thought struck, Sandra added, “We really should get a picture of that.”

“Uh,” Art said, “I’ll wait for you to get your phone and take the picture. That way I’ll be innocent.”

The Fortress

... While on the way, the assistant had answered his radio twice, already. Each time, he spoke for a few seconds before ending the call. As soon as they came to a halt, he received yet another call. Excusing himself, he hurriedly stepped well away to continue his conversation, not having any idea that Jeff could still hear him.

The Prime listened intently, becoming almost as worried as the assistant by the time the young man finished the radio conversation with, “Oh, shit. I’ll be right there.”

Before Hall could even explain to Jeff, he had already turned to the women. “Kayla, the crew has someone trapped. That’s what the call was about. I’m going to see if I can help. Stay with Kei and take her back to the Retreat when she’s finished in here...”

“Bullshit,” Kayla said as she swung onto the assistant’s cart with Jeff and Hall. Then yelling to Kei as the assistant powered the cart away, “Take the other cart and go back to the gate guard. Tell him that one of the construction workers is trapped and I said to get more help down here ASAP.”

“They won’t have the equipment to help,” Hall said as they turned onto the main circle, then shortly turned onto the down ramp for the lower floor. “We have it, but he’s in one of the air vent tunnels and the small borer is partially on him. There won’t be room to use it in there.”

“How the hell did it happen?” Jeff asked.

“Don’t know,” the assistant said as he turned down another corridor, this one much smaller with equipment sitting along the sides. “We’ll find out when we get there, I guess.”

Around another junction, they came to a halt where a group of construction workers were gathered. As Hall got off the cart, he turned to Jeff. “Sir, I can’t...”

“My responsibility,” Jeff said as he raised his voice enough for the nearby workers to hear him. “You have warned me. You are not responsible for my stupidity. Now let’s get to it. Where is he?”

One of the men from the vent boring crew motioned to a five foot opening roughly eight feet off the floor of the side tunnel they were in. When completed, the opening would have an inspection hatch that would provide entrance into the five-foot in diameter bore that would be one of the air vents for the fortress. “The borer is jammed about sixty feet in. Carlson managed to get it to back up a few inches before it jammed completely, and he crawled under it to get to the cutting face so he could free the machine. He dismantled part of the face, but before he could clear the machine, something shifted, the borer moved and pinned his hand behind the cutting face. It’s so tight under the machine with him under there too, that there isn’t room for jacks to be placed where they would have to be to get the weight off his hand.”

“How bad is the injury?” Hall asked as he prepared to go into the vent.

“Don’t know, but there’s blood coming down his arm. A good bit of it, too.”

“Where the hell is the ladder so I can get up to the vent?”

“I’ve sent someone to get it. The crew that had been operating the borer had entered the vent way back on another corridor, but this way is much quicker. The ladder will be here in a minute,” the man argued when he saw the frown on Hall’s face. Not wanting to wait, Hall jumped to grab the edge of the opening, but his hand slipped and he couldn’t hang on. Cursing, he tried again with the same result. Jeff jumped, caught a hand on the opening at the height of his jump and effortlessly pulled himself into the vent bore. A second later, he reached a hand down for Hall to grab. He jumped with Jeff pulling and was suddenly on his knees inside the vent.

“Mr. Matthews, You just can’t go in there...”

“Sorry, but I can,” Jeff said as he stood humped over looking down the vent shaft toward where all the lights were.

As they hurried down the vent tunnel, the ladder finally arrived and more people climbed into the vent behind them. When Jeff, who had drawn ahead of Hall, got to the site where a group of workers was clustered in the tight confines of the tunnel, the Prime barely slowed as he wormed his way through the men. By the time Hall had gotten past the jam of workers who were more or less just hunkered down waiting, Jeff had already crawled partway under the machine and was speaking to the trapped worker.

“You able to talk?” he asked the man as he cautiously began to worm his way farther under the equipment.

“I’m caught, whoever you are. This SOB weighs almost a ton. If it shifts again, it will crush both of us. I’m royally screwed and I know it, but it’s my own fuckup. No use you coming under here and getting crushed, too. I should have put jacks under it before I started, but I thought I would be able to free it in a couple of minutes and we could be back boring.”

“Well, I’m under here now, so quit worrying about me and let’s figure out how to get you out.”

The man snorted. “Hell, if I knew how to do that, I wouldn’t still be here.”

“So, tell me what happened, and by the way, what’s your name?”

“Ah, shit,” the man said with a sigh. “Somebody who’s gonna talk me to death before this damn thing decides to fall on my ass.” Jeff didn’t say anything, and after a minute, the man inserted, “Name’s Carlson. I was trying to get the cutting head to move back a bit so I could get to the stoppage, when the damn machine shifted a few inches and the rim of the cutting face put weight on my hand and arm. If it moves any more, or the full weight shifts, it will cut my arm off, but that won’t matter because I’ll be dead anyway when this big bastard crushes me to death. No sense you being here; there’s no room to work and the granite is solid – no way to dig out without something way too big to get in here. And... there’s no room to set up jacks on this end of the machine with me under here, so I’m just plain fucked.”