Mea Culpa! -- An author's dark secret

Almost every writer is guilty of it though many will deny and even fabricate long and complex stories to cover up the fact—after all we are writers famed for a high dosage of imagination. Sometimes we’re so clever we actually convince ourselves of our innocence.
Hah!
The truth and bitter reality will eventually reassert itself and force us to face the facts and neither denial nor sheer bloody bullheaded self-induced amnesia (for which I am not guilty of, no sirree) will ever get us away from the shocking reality.
Almost every writer; and that includes you Mrs. J.C. from Hammersmith, VA. (Aha, you didn’t think I’d notice that little burp on the Quillsquatters page did you?) I repeat, every writer from the icicle-dipped-in-heated-ink-on-sheets-of-ice Inuit to the scratch-with-a-nail-on-a-stone-block Falkland’s sheep herder is guilty of this one thing.
We all have at least one skeleton in our laptops.
Shamefully I admit I am as guilty as the rest of them and I’ve attempted for longer than most to keep this affair secret. Since I was eighteen years old when I was a mere uneducated and easily corrupted teen I’ve gone out of my way to divert any attempt to pry this secret out of my wonderfully electric pink and fluffy closet. After all isn’t it much cozier huddled up with the cheap Walmart parka’s and worn out wellingtons than it would be bouncing around bare-naked in the full light of day?
Did I say bare-naked?
Uhm, please excuse me. I didn’t mean to put it quite like that, after all it’s not anything to do with baring…, well..., baring one’s soul perhaps.
Okay; dammit, I’ll confess to being guilty of having something I am truly ashamed of. Although in this case it’s not so much a skeleton in the laptop since such things didn’t exist at the time of my deed (laptops that is—skeletons have been around a little longer I’ve been told.) So it’s more like an apparition in a typewriter; a cadaver in the keys or a revenant in the ribbon. An act so heinous even a liberal apologist such as myself still cringes at the memory.
Perhaps this acknowledgement and an act of contrition will bring about a cleansing of my soul and free the overburdening weight of guilt which has hung over me for the last thirty-two years.
And so I announce now…
*cough*
Ah, a glass of water please.
Yes.
Thank you, So, that’s it…right?
What?
I didn’t say anything—
Oh dear, well…



Here goes…





I just want to say…









iwrotethisfirstnovelanditiscompleteandutterlyembarrassingtrash .

Okay! There, now you know and the first one to laugh gets…gets…gets a free copy of it. Hah! So there.
I don’t mean the first “it’s the first I’ve published first novel”. Cyberius III was my first published novel and was actually my fifth written novel though it is currently “out of print” and unavailable from the publisher; a somewhat odd state of affairs for an electronic publication but hey, what do I know, I’m only the author.
Poseidon VII was actually my seventh completed novel and Dante I my tenth. (Novels two to four are either still being edited or are difficult sales to shrinking markets.) I’m talking about the foremost, truly mind-numbing first ever typed words on paper kind of story. (Trust me I’m not even going to include the cringe, curl up and die stories I had to write for English class. My adolescent stories can be most easily equated to the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Vogon’s Poetry.
The thing is; it is true isn’t it? All writers have first writtens or experimentals which we keep locked in the bottom drawer of the file cabinet, stuffed under the bed, hidden in an old shoebox crammed into the bottom of the bathroom cleaning products under-the-sink storage. Yellowed copy for which we’d die if it was espied and read by even our nearest and dearest; yet somehow is too precious to offload into the nearest furnace or shredder. (Throwing it in a trashcan is out of the question, some one may pull it out to read.)
My no-title masterpiece was a glowing example of a Marty Stu. One shy little nobody (with brown hair, glasses and a wicked smile) building a worldwide secret force for good and saving the entire world from nuclear destruction while simultaneously re-educating the world leaders in the ways of peace and harmonious living.
*ick*
Think about it. Would you really buy a book which started with the sentence:

White edged sky edged toward sleepy Houndston as dawn chased away the lingering shadows of another sleepless night.

It’s okay to scream, I understand. If you haven’t clawed your eyes out by now it’s safe to open them again.
With a twisted and totally unrealistic plot this amazing science fiction/action thriller suffered from multiple name changes and physical characteristics of the secondary characters; superhuman capabilities of a main character who could fix anything and never made a mistake; randomly moving body parts; intensely yucky pseudo romancey scenes and probably every single mistake it was possible to make in all its literary forms. With camels regularly coming to a sweet end in the roving dunes of the Arabian desserts the Novel with No Title was my very own Eye of Argon simply waiting for the chance to entertain myriad SF convention attendees along with three pints of beer and a brandy—triple shot on ice with some white fluffy cream and a bagel.
Fortunately this two-hundred and forty-three page; single spaced; yellow aged; typewritten monstrosity is the only embarrassing attempt I’ll admit to. Having learned enough from the one failed attempt to edit, re-edit and edit again up to the tenth generation edit. Yet, I find I’m still unable to completely give up on no-title and every eighth year I pull it out from the cobwebs and add another gallon of red ink or two to the edits I’ve already added to the impossible.
Truthfully, in spite of the terror of seeing what my original writing skills amounted to I am still quite proud of that piece of work. I know it will never be published. Even after massive edits and rewrites it would be simpler just to write a completely different book with a similar story idea.
The important thing is I did write it. I managed a ninety-seven thousand word typescript, plotted, planned, researched and completed it. And you know what? It’s not something which a lot of people can do. Completing even a cringe-worthy manuscript which has no chance of being published brought me a great sense of satisfaction—not to mention the boost it gave to my writer esteem. Once I knew I could complete a novel it became easier to do the next, and the next.
Also there is a certain amount of self-teaching to be found within the historical first time. Like the highly embarrassing first time sex, reviewing the fumbling and bumblings of my first typescript reminds me that I wasn’t always as proficient a writer as I am now and helps me relate more easily to today’s beginning authors.
It is a very humbling experience to look back and see how little I knew then compared to how much I know now. Encouraging too since it’s similar to looking back over your baby and childhood photos and seeing how you grew and developed. My one major regret in life is how in a fit of teenaged pique I threw away dozens of notebooks containing over nine years of childhood poetry—I’d turned into an adult, see, and didn’t need their constant reminders of how silly and childish I’d been.
How many authors have closets like mine (minus the electric pink) and their secret not to be discovered first writtens? I don’t know, after all some skeletons may look better in a closet with a big red bow tie holding them firmly into place—with the occasional, locked in the bedroom airing.
What do you think?

S.J. Willing
Proud Author of the PIACT undercover agent series.

S.J.Willing
S.J. Willing's Forum
Dante I
Poseidon VII

Aunt Noony’s Five Tips for Worldbuilding

1. Decide in which world you want to set your story. As Xakara mentioned in her post, ANY world in which we write, be it the “here and now” or the “once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away” has its own rules and customs. Once you’ve decided where you want your story to be set, ask yourself some questions on behalf of your main character:

a. How do they make their money? If they are supported by someone else, how do they make the money that supports your character? Are there taxes? Tributes to pay? What skills do they need to make a living?

b. How do they live? Do they have a house in a residential area? Are they on a ship with hundreds of other individuals? Underground?

c. What do they eat? If it’s not set on earth, how does the food get there? Who produces it, and how is it transported from producer to table?

d. How do they deal with the climate? What is clothing like? What are the buildings like? Human beings are fragile creatures but have many ways of mitigating environmental impacts. Describe how your character deals with them.

2. What rules govern relationships? Is there marriage? How does it work? How do kinship paradigms work? In some cultures, for example, adult siblings of the opposite sex are allowed to be friends with one another but with no other individuals of the opposite sex outside the family. What about rules regarding children? How are children treated in your world?

3. What kinds of organizations have sprung up? Is this a simple society with clan and maybe village government? Is this a megalithic society with governments and complex politics? How do roads get built, taxes levied and collected, money produced and invested?

4. As you develop the answers to these questions, it’s useful to create a document that accompanies your work but that can be used as an encyclopedia of rules for you. You can call it what you like, but make sure it includes lists of characters and their details, relationships, government notes, and notes on anything else that you need to keep in mind. For example, if you are building a werewolf society, then you might have a section in your document called “Werewolves” that details who’s in charge, how succession is handled, what colors the wolves are, etc.

5. Do people swear? This can tell you a lot about a society and culture. For example, if you set your world on a planet that doesn’t have a Euro-American Christian majority as the dominant paradigm, then “God” or “Dammit” probably aren’t common swearwords. If you create an Egyptian society, you might use “By Anubis’s teeth” or something similar. It’s useful to come up with several options, from equivalents to the “F” word all the way down to something minor like “crap” or “darn.”

If you’re still stumped, try answering the questions above using your favorite worlds. Some places to start would be Star Trek or Anne McCaffrey’s Pern series.

Have fun!

Another Free Read from the PIACT Agent Archive. (Not work friendly)

Don't forget if you want to win a super duper Secret Agent ID card like this one



and your own presentation packaged archive superspy mission for yourself, or a loved one, all you have to do to enter the free draw is comment on this thread. Stories can be written in four styles, sex free, romantic, spicy and erotic. Just let me know what you want.

Come along and join us, your superspy comrades are eagerly waiting...


Lethal Lion Leaps into a Lavish Lair

“Now, make sure you wear your underwear.”

Lethal Lion cringed as Omniscient Otter gave him her final orders over the telephone. She was hip deep in a mission in the Middle East while he was preparing for his, in a villa standing on a Greek beach next to the Mediterranean. And all she could think about was his underwear.

“Oh God, you’re going commando aren’t you, I can tell. We’re doomed!”

“No, I’m not.” Lion countered churlishly. He wasn’t doomed, at least. He certainly wasn’t going to admit to going commando.

“Just ask Warrior Wolf,” she told him. “Ask her about the dangers of not wearing underwear. Clean ones at that. Ask her about the YouTube videos, the ones she’s always hacking into and trying to hide.”

“Aw, hey babe, you know that isn’t going to happen to me. Besides one guy looks like the next when it comes down to that.”

“Trust me, bozo.” Her tone of voice held dire warnings. “I’d recognize that penis anywhere, so don’t let me see it somewhere other than our bedroom. Don’t forget, I bite.”

Lion winced again. Otters, he knew from experience, had sharp teeth.

“Trust me dear, wherever I go the underwear goes with me.” Just to keep to the truth Lion shoved a pair of cotton plaid boxers down the front of his pants. The padding gave him an impressive bulge in the front of them.

“Going commando again?” Formidable Fox stepped out of the shower naked except for a shower cap, grabbed a jug of coffee, then sauntered back into the shower.

“And I hope those women aren’t sauntering naked around you,” she growled. “I gave them express orders— “

“Breakfast is here,” Lightning Lynx came up the stairs carrying a huge delivery box from the local bakery. The smell of croissants, Greek bread, feta and baklava along with even stronger coffee made his mouth water.

She lay the box on a small breakfast bar on the balcony just outside Lion’s bedroom, dropped the sheer nightgown she was wearing, shook, her hair in the slight breeze, giving him the perfect view of everything she had before she delicately crossed her legs and nibbled, very teasingly, at one corner of croissant.

“—they are perfectly well behaved,” Lion assured her. “There’s not a single inch of flesh to be seen.” Nope, not an inch, bloody yards of it maybe but not a single inch.

“Okay,” Otter appeared to be mollified by his continued assertions. “Okay then, but, well take care. I hear the twins are deadly with their bazookas.”

“I will dear, I promise, now don’t go flying into any male harems will you. I hear they’re ferocious with a lone woman once they get them in the pool.”

“Don’t be silly dear, nothing happens like that here.”

“Love you, Bye.”

“Bye, Love you!

Hearing the phone hang up brought Lion’s blood pressure out of the fatal heart attack range, which Fox pumped right up again when she came out of the shower, naked again, and passed him a towel, asking him to rub her dry, and do it really quickly at the bottom because it was always wet.

Lion was plucking up the courage to get started when the outside door opened and the unmistakable stomp of Wolf came in. She quickly traced the gang, and the breakfast, to the upper balcony and caught the three of them in a flagrant á trois.

Lion looked at her and relaxed. Calf high skirt, long sleeve and full collar shirt, a hat that covered most of her face. Other than being a very attractive woman, Wolf hadn’t brought anything naked with her to add to the plethora of temptation.

“Really girls,” Wolf chastised them. “You shouldn’t be walking around naked while a man is watching you.”

“A man…?” Fox squeaked.

“…watching us?” Lynx chirped.

Both women dashed to the balcony and dangled over it, searching for their elusive voyeur.

“He’s in here, silly.”

Still excited the two girls turned around and began searching behind the curtains and in the cupboards.

“He’s standing right in front of you.” Wolf added, exasperated.

Fox and Lynx paused to look at Wolf.

“Oh!” Lynx said at last. “I think she means Lion.”

“Lion?” Fox stuttered. “He’s not a man, he’s married.”

“To Otter,” Lynx agreed.

“Damn,” Fox flumped down at the breakfast bar, disappointed.

“Damn, too” Lynx joined her.

Lion swallowed, glanced down at his perfectly athletic body, muscles to die for, and felt about as useful as a butt plug at a gay bar.

“Well, just keep your clothes on around here, okay. The poor fellow is already having fits by the looks of it.”

Lion felt himself blush as Wolf pointedly looked at the front of his pants.

“Don’t worry about that,” Fox stage whispered, “It’s only padding.”

Blushing even more Lion pulled the offending boxers out of his pants to reveal a perfectly smooth, bump free profile. He sank on the edge of the bed, defeated.

“Whatever,” Wolf rolled her eyes. “Don’t forget Furball insisted we keep a low profile on this mission. We’ve finally found a place where I can work without being recognized.”

“Hardly.” Lynx countered. “Why else would that seventeen-year-old look up your skirt at the bakery and yell to his friends. αυτή είναι η μία στο YouTube.”

Lion watched Wolf squirm uncomfortably. “We have no idea what he said.” She told them. “He’s probably one of them kids that gets his thrills from peeking up girls skirts.”

“He said, ‘this is the one on YouTube,’” Lion translated for her.

Wolf blushed bright red, before collapsing on the edge of the bed beside him.

“Damn,” she said. “It looks like you’ll have to do this mission without me after all.”

“Well, what is the mission?” Lynx asked. “Besides sunbathing on the beach and chasing down the local hunks?”

“Okay, come inside and close the curtains,” she told them. “Let’s get this job underway, I want to go home.”

“Yeah, but are you wearing your underwear?” Fox teased, then fell silent as Wolf pulled a huge, pulsating life-like vibrator out of her purse. “How did you get that past customs?”

“I have my ways,” Wolf smirked.

Lion felt even more inadequate as Wolf placed the monstrosity, suction cup to the wood, on the dressing table in front of them. Even the close proximity of two delectable, naked women had no effect on him after the confidence bashing he’d had today.

The vibrator did a little jump, startling him, then three beams of red light burst out from its tip. Laser beams. He watched, curious, as within seconds there was a keyboard, mousepad and monitor drawn in red light on the wall and top of the dresser.

Wolf leaned in and quickly typed in a few passwords and codes. The monitor screen flickered to full hdtv color life.

Furball, in all his bearded wonderfulness, was peering out at them.

“Ah, I’m so glad to see you all in one piece,” he said. “I was worried the Twins might have already caught onto you and eliminated at least a few.”

“You’re expecting us to get killed?” Lion asked. “And you didn’t tell us.”

“Now, now, don’t worry.” Furball reassured him. “I mean we have the best there is in resuscitation. Just as long as you’re not decapitated we have a pretty good chance of piecing you back together. Why agent Persian Pumpkin was found in the sewers, dead for fourteen days, and she’s now walking around with us with no problems.”

“Persian Pumpkin?”

“You know, the girl in our office here, walks with a limp, looks like her eyes are rotted, keeps falling to pieces, that one.”

Lion remembered now the Halloween mannequin he’d seen when he’d visited HQ recently, except it apparently wasn’t a mannequin…

“But regardless, you’re all there in one piece and that’s how we like you. You want to hear more about your mission?”

“Please do,” Lion spoke dryly. “The suspense is killing me.”

“These two girls,” the screen switched to show some video footage of two blond, very well endowed, twins heading into a pedicure parlor. “Are top executives for the Secret Party Looking to Annihilate Terra. Otherwise known as SPLAT. They are currently working on a super secret project here…” a shot of a remote, massive villa in the middle of the deserted Greek countryside. “…known as the Gemini Matrix.”

The holder of the video camera managed to zoom in to focus on some of the people walking around the grounds of the villa. Everywhere the camera focused, there were twins. Male twins. From the corner of his eye Lion could see Lynx and Fox licking their lips.

“I need you Lynx and Fox, to take out the guards, while Lion heads for the ultra-secret laboratory here.” The camera zoomed in to what looked like an elaborate harem style bedroom full of silky chiffon hangings, ceiling decorations and a massive uber king sized circular bed. “Hopefully he’ll be able to locate and destroy the secret research. At the least we’re expected to have the Twins incarcerated by the end of this mission.”

Something big, heavy and fast flew up from the villa and suddenly the picture from the camera consisted of a short tumbling sequence before simply going black, accompanied by a blood curdling scream which was cut short at the interesting bit.

“Ah, Two-Toed Turtle always was a little slow.” Furball sighed. “Anyway, are you all clear on your duties?”

There was a rather subdued round of “Yes.”

“What about me?” Wolf sniffed, miffed at being left out of the mission.

“I’d suggest plastic surgery,” Furball said. “Failing that get your lower half a hair dye, have it trimmed into interesting shapes and make it totally unrecognizable from a certain YouTube video… Hey, have you considered shaving?”

“Uhm…”

“Good, good, I’m sure you’re the master of disguise, and that you’ll find some way to make yourself unrecognizable to the world’s masses.”

“Uhm…”

“Excellent! Now go for it guys and gals. Good luck, and don’t forget, this message will self-destruct in ten seconds.” Furball grinned. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

The image on the screen faded and the vibrator squeaked and hissed a little, deflating slowly until it looked like one of those dinky penises you find on cherub statues in stately gardens.

“Now that was a waste,” Lynx pouted.

##

“Okay, satellite indicates you’ve got four heading your way girls, two from the west, two from the north west. ETA five minutes. You know, I’m getting some really weird electronic signals from that place. You all take care in there, you hear?”

Wolf, dying to get in on the act somehow was monitoring the whole process from satellite and adding her little bit now and then. She was staying firmly locked inside the vacation villa, hiding from the small crowd of sightseers that were now camping on the beach outside it and which was growing larger every minute.

Lion looked towards the predicted contact area, and closed his eyes as Lynx and Fox stripped down to some very skimpy underwear. He had to concentrate on the job.

Peering towards the nearby wall, the whole villa was encased in a ten feet high privacy wall, Lion tried to assess the easiest place to climb it.

There wasn’t, wherever he climbed it was going to be just as tough. Oh well. Here’s hoping some of that million dollar spy equipment Querulous Q gave him actually did its stuff.

“I’ll take these four,” Lynx sauntered sexily forward as the first men came into sight. “You guys get on to the inside and get the Twins.”

Lion could tell Fox wasn’t too happy with that but at least she didn’t complain.

“Are you sure you can handle four of them alone?” Lion asked.

Lynx licked her lips, waggled her tush and waved her hands. “One less than maximum capacity,” she grinned.

Lion didn’t stay to argue. Instead he moved quickly to the cover of the wall, hoping the coming men didn’t spot him. Going by the grunts and groans that soon emanated behind him, the coming men was a very apt description.

Once next to the wall Lion took out the Invisible Breach Ball QQ had given him. “It will enable you to pass through three foot of rock, brick and mortar as if it never existed.”QQ had said. “Totally invisible!”

“Light blue touch paper and retire,” he read the brief instructions as he pressed the ball against the wall.

Well, he was far too young to retire. Squashing the soft metallic ball against the white mortared wall until it stuck and taking his super duper cigarette lighter, he lit the blue paper which was poking out of the top.

The paper sparkled, glowed, pulsed, then went out.

“Always happens with the cheap ones,” Fox noted. “Try sticking a match in it.”

Feeling a bit wary of that suggestion, he tried to light the blue touch paper again. This time the fuse flared, and zipped all the way into the ball before he had time to pull his hand away.

The ball burst into a glow so bright, it took five minutes before his constant blinking allowed him to finally see again.

“That’s it!” Wolf announced. “You’ve made your way in. Don’t take too long, Lynx looks like she’s floundering.”

“Oh? Is that what they call it nowadays?” Fox muttered.

Lion pushed his hand against the wall. Or more precisely pushed his hand against where the wall used to be. All that remained now of the small section where he stood was a large pile of rock dust on the floor.

Well, he had to admit, it certainly looked like the wall was invisible—he couldn’t fault QQ’s description there.

“Okay, I’m going in,” he announced.

“And not a moment too soon.” Lynx’s words sounded garbled over the headset.

“It’s rude to speak with your mouth full,” Fox chided.

Lion stepped through the more-than-man-sized hole, into the garden of dreams itself.

It was like stepping from the Mediterranean and appearing, well, into a very well-kept part of the Mediterranean. The soil here was still sandy, dry and gritty, but it was a well-watered dry and gritty. And the plants and shrubs grew like they knew they were the rich kids on the block. Lion reached up to a nearby olive tree and plucked a few ripe olives to test them.

“Hmm, not bad at all,” he said, savoring the astringent taste.

“No, I’m not going to pull up my skirt for you to peek at me!” Wolf’s protest shattered Lion’s musing. “Sorry everyone, the local TV station sent a news crew around to interview me. Do you think you could maybe hurry this along a little bit. The local police have started selling tickets for their annual ball and carting off the ones refusing to pay. The jail’s already overfull with two men to a bed and I hear they’ve booked an around-the-world cruise for all their eighty odd employees.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry Wolf, just enjoying some of the dainty delights the garden has to offer.” Lion apologized.

“Just get into the bedroom and savor your dainty delights there.” Wolf said, then under her breath, unaware that he could hear her. “I knew I should have worn underwear…”

“This is the best route,” Fox told him, when he’d almost finished his handful of olives. “Follow the pergolas, the squash growing up the sides will give us enough cover until we nearly reach the house. From there you’ll have to make a short dash to the villa.”

“What about you?” Lion asked.

“I think I saw some twins towards the far end of the pergolas. I’m going to have to go first and distract them.” She licked her lips, adjusted her top so her boobs looked more perky and fussed with her hair. “Give me ten minutes head start okay.”

“Okay,” Lion agreed. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Eh, what’s a few twins on a mission eh, Lynx? We’ve handled worse that that right?”

“Mmmphh mm phmmm.” Lynx acknowledged.

Worried about his colleagues Lion nervously paced about the olive tree, constantly checking his watch to see if the ten minutes were up. An agonizing eight minutes had passed when Wolf piped up on the headset.

“Incoming,’ she said. “Can you see them to your east and south west Fox?”

“Oh yes,” Fox sounded rather breathless. “What? Only three?”

“Something’s wrong,” Wolf declared. “Everyone here has a twin, and moves as a twin. Keep your eyes peeled Lion, this could be a trap if we can’t see his twin.”

“Oh man!” Fox exclaimed, her voice buzzing over the headset, followed by a sound similar to a panty thong snapping. “Ooooooh, Maaan!”

Lion, trying not to let his guilt at Fox’s deep pain distract him, quickly surveyed the land just beyond the pergolas. It was wide and open. Off to the left, behind some bushes, he could hear Fox’s desperate attempt to keep the guards away from him—the poor lass stifling her cries of agony.

Knowing he was wasting precious time, Lion took a chance and made a dash for the villa, hiding behind a largish Juniper bush he looked up at the wall. A fifteen foot climb onto the flat roof, head east, another ten foot climb and he’d be able to sneak into the bedroom on the third floor.

Easy.

Except there was a hand on his shoulder which definitely didn’t feel like it was going to let him go.

Lion turned casually, acting as if he had every right to be trespassing in someone’s secret base garden and hiding behind a juniper bush.

“Hi,” he said, waving to the missing twin guard. “Lovely weather for a walk isn’t it?”

“Πρέπει να σας σκοτώσω.” The twin said.

“Erhm, pardon me for asking but did you just say, ‘I must kill you?’”

“ορθή”

“That’s ‘correct’, huh?”

“Ω, ναι, σίγουρα.”

“Oh, yes, definitely?” Lion rubbed his chin. “Well, that’s kind of awkward isn’t it, since I don’t really want to be killed.”

Moving at a speed of lightning mud, Lion punched out, striking the man squarely on the chin—then howled in pain as he nursed his hand between his legs.

“Damn! Well I can tell you don’t have a glass jaw. What did you do? Implant a sheet of steel in your chin?”

“I’ve, er, figured out what those strange signals are guys,” Wolf sheepishly admitted.

“Don’t tell me,” Lion joked. “All the twin guards are robots.”

“Well, androids.”

“It’s okay Wolf, you don’t need to humor me. It was just a bad joke, really.”

“Well…I wasn’t really humoring…”

Lion ducked as the twin threw a punch, the man’s arm ending up buried to the elbow in the wall, and he didn’t even wince.

“Androids,” Lynx gasped. “That explains why they’re so good. I mean, uhm, they don’t seem to be getting tired or slowing down.”

The twin threw another punch at him with its other hand, Lion slipped to one side, feeling the breeze pass his ear as the punch almost connected. The man, android, now had two arms elbow deep in the wall.

“How can we defeat them?” Lion asked, taking the opportunity to beat on the machines head while it couldn’t respond. All he managed to do was make his fists hurt.

“I dunno,” Wolf said. “Maybe you could shove a hand grenade down their pants or something?”

“Right, thanks,” Lion answered as politely as he could. “But I didn’t exactly come all this way just to cop a feel of an android’s wiener.”

It did give him an idea though. The android had almost pulled its arms out of the wall, along with a fair chunk of the wall itself. Pulling out his spare IBB he squashed the soft metal ball to the back of the androids neck. This time he put his free arm over his eyes and thrust the lighter as close to the ball as it could get. Retiring, on this occasion, could be a rather long and fatal affair.

Even with his arm over his eyes it took several moments blinking to be able to see again. Fortunately his plan had worked and all that remained of the android was a pile of metal and plastic dust.

“Oh God, they’re so hard,” Fox moaned. “Difficult, I mean. They’re so difficult!” She squealed.

“Wimp!” Lynx taunted.

“Quickly Lion, you have to get to the Twins and subdue them. They probably have a master control which will turn all the androids off at once.”

“Right.”

Lion looked at the crumbling wall. At least that was one problem solved. Using the convenient hand and foot holes the android had provided it took just a matter of minutes to swing himself up onto the roof and start making his way to the Twins bedroom.

It took just a few more moments to reach the wall just below their bedroom window. Quickly pulling the Clingers onto his hands and feet, he used their super suction ability to help him climb the short ten feet to the window sill.

The whole process went very well. Incredibly well in fact. Except for the last few inches when two sets of hands grabbed his wrists and yanked him the last few feet into the bedroom.

When he managed to get his breath back, and look up from the floor, he saw two very attractive pairs of breasts. No, he meant an attractive pair of twins, honest!

Both of them were dressed in see-through baby doll negligees that just about covered their navels and left little to his imagination—which was currently working overtime, as was another part of his anatomy.

“Oooh,” said Twin number one. “A real, working, human male, Dupli.”

The other Twin licked her lips as she sidled over to Lion.

“You’re right, Kate. Let’s see what he really has to offer. You know that last one had just padded himself out with his boxers.”

Dupli and Kate, Lion wondered what sick parents came up with those names.

As the Twins grabbed the legs of his pants Lion fought vainly to keep his modesty as the girls tried to pull them off. Very reluctantly, he instantly unbuttoned and unzipped before they tugged too hard and damaged something permanently. After all, he did want to have something to take back to Otter.

“Oooh,” Kate said, grabbing him in a place too rude to mention and stroking him up and down. “It’s so hard and smooth, it’s better than the real thing.”

“It is the real thing,” he told them grouchily.

Dupli dipped her head down for a quick lick. Lion decided to take some time out before arresting the poor, pretty things. After all, they probably were innocents in all this.

“Hmm, tastes like the real thing.” Dupli said. “Let’s try him out for a bit.”

“Yes. Lets.” Kate agreed.

#

A couple of hours later Lion looked around at the chaos in the room. The bed was messed up with the covers all over the place. Half the hangings and the chandelier were dangling in pieces from the walls and ceilings. Worse still the Twins were still going strong, insatiable for more of him.

He was exhausted.

“Has it been good for you ladies?” he asked, desperate for a break. God knows how Lynx and Fox were doing, They’ve been captives to their robot twins even longer than he’d been to these two human ones.

“They’re barely hanging on,” Wolf told him. “They can’t keep it up much longer.”

Neither can I. Lion wanted to add.

“Oh, don’t worry about us,” Dupli told him.

“No man has even been able to make us come,” Kate told him. “We just like to play because its fun.”

“Ugh,” Lion groaned. I’m doomed. “Okay, maybe I have a little toy which will help.”

“Ooh, we like toys.” The Twins said together.

Reaching for his pants Lion pulled out the last device QQ had given him. The Desperation Pill. About the size of a quarter he pulled it out, and following the instructions, squeezed the tube at the two blue marks.

Immediately the capsule popped open and a pink thing flew out.

“Wow,” Dupli cooed.

“Double wow,” Kate aahhed.

“Phew,” Lion agreed.

Grabbing as much rest as he could Lion watched along with the girls as the pink thing expanded and slowly took shape. He had no idea what QQ had created so he was as surprised as the Twins when they ended up with a blow up copy of himself.

“Well, hello girls!”

A moving, walking, talking blow up copy! He was saved!

“Wowowow!” Kate said, reaching forward and grabbing the copy’s extended male member. “And it vibrates too! I’m taking this one.” She told Dupli. “We can swap later.”

“No fair!” Dupli complained. “You always try the new ones first.”

Still, she turned to Lion, determination on her face. “I’ll have to finish you off quickly,” she said.

Lion didn’t think she meant it in a pleasant way either.

“Unless I finish you first,” he gave her what he hoped was a sexy confident smile back. “Now that I can concentrate solely on you, you have no chance.”

“I love a good challenge,” Dupli grinned back. Then gasped as Lion flipped her over and took her doggie style. “You can’t, beat me, like this.” She groaned.

Yet Lion could tell from her tone that he was finally beginning to affect her.

“Then let’s try a little of this,” he teased.

Switching on his fingertip implanted vibrators he reached underneath her and began stroking her clit, she bucked as if he’d just sent a million volts through her.

“No!” she cried. “No!”

Lion glanced over at his copy and saw it was doing the same thing to Kate who was moaning, glassy eyed. He grinned with satisfaction. They were going to do something to the Twins that no man had done before.

“No!” Dupli screamed. “It can’t be! I’m, I’m, c…c…comi…..!”

It wasn’t until he saw the smoke pouring out of her ears that Lion started to get a little bit disconcerted. But when she screamed out at her climax, and her eyes popped out to dangle on springs, and the top of her head blew off to reveal a complex set of circuit boards and electronics he really started to worry. He distanced himself as quickly as he could from the disintegrating machine.

He glanced over at Kate as her orgasmic cries ended in a similar, and very alarming fashion. Unfortunately his copy wasn’t as quick and ended up in various pieces beside her.

“Be careful!” Lion yelled into the headset. “The androids aren’t programmed to deal with an orgasm, they kind of—“

“Wow, talk about popping your cork!” Lynx said.

“Well, I’ve heard about blowing someone’s brains out…” Fox added.

“This whole place,” Lion looked around the bedroom, debris from one of the exploding twins had loosened a panel in the wall to reveal a complex control board behind it. “It was run by androids.”

He hit a few buttons just to see what would happen. The control board lit up like a Christmas tree. Maybe he’d hit the one which switched off the androids.

“Warning! Warning! This base will self-destruct in five minutes.” Lion stared at it in shock for a few seconds. “I’ve always wanted to say that.” The machine added.

“Uhm, ladies…” Lion said forgetting about his clothes and running for the window and the quickest way out of the villa.

“We heard.” Lynx and Fox said together.

“Calling in the escape chopper now.” Wolf told them.

Lion just hoped they’d make it out in time

##

“I warned you about going commando!” Lion winced at Otter’s tone and held the phone a little further from his ear. “Now where the hell did I put that skinning knife?”

“Baby, really, I have no idea how I ended up on YouTube.”

They were all sitting in Ferocious Furball’s ‘couch’ room waiting for a debrief. No, he wasn’t going to think of that term. Fox and Lynx had both arrived wearing long mackintosh coats, dark glasses and fedoras.

“I haven’t been able to go anywhere without someone asking if I want to try it with five.” Lynx complained.

“My mother keeps talking about my choice of underwear,” Fox moaned. “And the ladies of her church group have started a panties collection for me.” She wrinkled her face in disgust.

“Isn’t it disgusting,” Wolf agreed, innocently twiddling with the satellite controller she’d used to follow and record their mission. “And here we were, thinking you were all safe. Someone who was following me must have tracked you all down to the villa. Well, look on the bright side. At least they’re not all following me around anymore.”

They were all about to comment when Furball announced his arrival by dimming the lights and backlighting the screen so that his silhouette appeared.

“I’m afraid, ladies and gentleman,” he began immediately. “That it looks like we have stumbled on an immensely large group of bad guys we need to trounce.”

They all stared at the screen, riveted by the news, personal problems temporarily forgotten.

“Let me tell you,” Furball continued. “What we have learned about SPLAT.”

Ends


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