Chapter 8

Fort McCoy, Wisconsin
Monday, 5:30 AM

“Mphfm!” Ok, this is getting ridiculous. Pussy in the morning is nice, and it smells and ... yup, it tastes nice and clean, but there is a tit right in the middle of it! Well, it’s a nicely shaped breast and nipple that is poking between her ... hmm, her who? ... uhh, between her legs. And there are two, minimum, mouths working on my groin. And ... Darn, I am totally buried in women. It must be every woman in the harem, all nine of them. I hope the springs can handle it. Good thing that I got one of the few pods they put here on the base. I need the big bed. Good thing that RHIP. Hmmm, there is a lot of moaning and groaning going on and I am barely awake. This seems a bit unfair.

“Hey, who is dealing with Robert and Stephen? I hope they aren’t being ignored.”

Janet’s voice came from someplace around his shoulder. Maybe that is her breast between those legs. “Gillian came over for her dad and she brought her girlfriend for Stephen.” He flicked the nipple with his tongue and she giggled. Yes! <i/> That was Janet.

Maggie spoke up and from the temporary cessation of the sucking; he determined that she was the one giving him the blowjob. “Since we’re loading today, we thought you should get something special for your last day on Earth.” The mouth resumed the gentle oral massage.

“Tony told us you could come in late today.” Mei Ling was the one licking his balls.

Karen ground her pussy into his chin requesting attention. “So, you have a choice.”

Jan seemed to be the one humping against his hand. “You can give each of us an orgasm. OR...”

Candace might be the one grinding against his knee. “Or, you can get one from each of us.”

Hmm, Fred thought nine ejaculations might be a bit much.

Caitlin threw him a lifeline. “Mix or match, but...”

The youngster Kim finished the ultimatum. “You aren’t getting out of here without nine orgasms.”

“The things I have to do to save humanity.”

Fort McCoy Monday Evening P-Day plus 10

“Rebecca, John, come on in.” Fred stood as he waved his brother and his sister-in-law into his office, making it obvious that it was family protocol as opposed to military. As she sat down he was thinking that Rebecca was looking great. She had regressed herself to the way she looked on her wedding day. Since the four of them had had a double wedding, Fred was looking at the spitting image of her twin sister Sarah, as she had looked when Fred had married her. She was certainly dressed less conservatively than was her norm. A professional looking, but short, skirt topped with a light blouse, open to show her cleavage and no bra. Her hair was a bit longer than before, but still worn in an older fashion than the age that the rest of her looked. When she sat on the couch across from his desk, she seemed to flash her legs more than needed as she crossed them. He appreciated the view, even with nine women in his harem.

He looked up to see her little smile and knew he had made her day. His first remarks were aimed at his brother. “De Halve Maen is almost loaded, one day ahead of schedule. We’re still picking up kids even now. We have fifty more Sponsors than pods, so the last ones to complete their collections will have to catch the next ship.

You will have the Commander and most of his people, over three platoons. We are only taking one squad of marines for the ship, since we have so many NCOs and other handpicked people. I hope the partial squads on Araby and Swooping Crane will be back before a month is out, but that is going to depend on whether everything is going to schedule regarding pod deliveries, colony foundations, and building sites. We’ll let you know once we are back in normal space. Then, once De Halve Maen leaves Vulcan, we’re out of contact again until the Araby gets back to Vulcan again. Oh, the escort ships might have some transit drones, but that’s one way only.

“I’ve primed the pump for that pick-up in Kansas when you are ready for it. Shipley is setting up some more specific veteran collections. And we have three schools on the short lists for next fall. Any new questions? Concerns?”

Rebecca looked up. “We are going to start those job interviews next week. And you know that we have around five hundred ex-convict hookers still in that secure lockup. You put two more companies worth of them of them on De Halve Maen?” She paused as he nodded in agreement.

“Ok, I am going to schedule the start of the family collections for the Independent Marine companies in about two weeks. The next trips for both ships will have three companies worth of hookers for the second batch of marines. There will also be three companies of women consisting of mixed singles and mothers, and three companies of families. Those are for the first batch. The AI and I are calculating out the probable family configurations and sponsor numbers. It varies widely of course, but they seem to have on average one additional sponsor per Marine and we think maybe six adults per Marine family. So the numbers come out to approximately four hundred and fifty family groups, the same numbers of additional sponsors with harems, five hundred hookers and five hundred other women. Half the capacity of those two ships is claimed already. In another month, we will have to get the rest of the families and another five hundred assorted women. That will put us at two women per Independent Company Marine.” She got an impish look. “Five hundred hookers with enhanced bodies and hormones. I could turn them loose on this base and make a fortune. I’m Civil Service, so it’s even in my job description.” The imp turned into a full-on devilish grin.

“Don’t even think of it,” Fred laughed as he admonished her. “We’re on this base on sufferance. Well, we do need those families and the next five hundred as well. I guess that means you are stuck here for at least two months.” He turned his gaze on his younger brother. “John? You got anything?”

“Nothing specific. I am collecting a few select people who have commanded regiments and battalions previously and did a good job with them. Other than that, I plan on using the AI to locate people getting out of the service, checking them out, and cherry picking some people who we can plug in anyplace. It looks like someone already cherry picked quite a few of the officers that we wanted. I had one minor idea for later; it looks like someone else thought of it as well. However, once you’re on planet, figure out if the water is suitable for subs. We might want to collect some people who have worked for the Electric Boat Company.

“Oh, and I am looking at collecting some retired weapons designers from Rock Island Arsenal, General Dynamics, Vought, Hughes, Raytheon, Boeing, Hughes, JPL, BAE, and anyone else I can think of, all retired people, I don’t want to break up programs that are in play. And I figure we should look at some of the dreamers. The new techs should let us make something like, umm, say that Crusader gun system and not have to worry about the fact that it would cost 25 million apiece instead of 5 million for the older designs. Just as an example.”

Fred grinned. “Nothing specific though,” he said dryly. “I was looking at the Army’s Brigade Combat Team vehicle designs myself. OK. I’ll leave things here in your hands. I’m leaving two of the ex-NSA security people with you; Will Knox and Carrie Chambers. Use them if you are out in the world. I told Sarah to pick out some spot at the new base where the family can all be living in the same neighborhood, at least until the kids get trained and maybe get put in different regiments or the Navy. You guys take care.” He gave his brother a handshake that turned into a back slapping hug and his sister-in-law a kiss, a hug, and a friendly little grope. “Ok, get out of here, I need to make sure those women of mine aren’t packing too many clothes.”

Rebecca snorted in mirth. “Sarah was telling me about the demands upon your time. What you had really better check is to see if they have packed any more girls away for you.”

The mix of emotions flashing across Fred’s face was priceless.

Office of the Director, NSA
Fort Meade, Maryland
Tuesday Morning
9 AM

“Director, General Winthrop is on the secure line.”

“Thank you, William. I’ll take it.” The director of the National Security Agency pressed the button to shut off the intercom. He then he picked up the handset for his STE and said “Go secure,” pressing the button that engaged the security protocols on the secure line. They now had fifteen seconds to wait for everything to handshake and make the line secure, so he reviewed the situation mentally.

Major General Fred Winthrop had only been gone from the Agency for a week, but Lt. General Mark Parker already missed him. The NSA was a three star military slot, but usually the second in command was a civilian role. Fred was a welcome exception that had been brought about by the Confederacy’s clean up of the security services. As an Army General with Special Ops and combat experience, he had a perspective that had focused more upon real world problems, than upon empire building and office politics. Now that he had been picked up by the Confederacy...