20 February 2023

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Email me. Comments, ideas, and suggestions welcome

I love email. If you give me a story line, I'll name a character after you. I really need ideas for fun situations. Get it?

I hate that we've lost touch

I had an idea and I texted it to the family. The extended family. Just a little short story.

Anyway, it is a pretty long list. The obvious, like my siblings. Ruby. Carlina. You get the idea. But I went wide. That brings in Caralyn, Frida, and more.

The extended family. I guess I should mention this is Leslie.

Speaking of Frida, I got a quick reply. Oh, she replied to us all.

"We should all get together and talk about it," texted Frida.

Why, yes, we should. Which leads me to this morning. A gorgeous Saturday morning.

In the Azores. We own a small hotel called Mosteiros Place. It's really just six small apartments with a restaurant, a nice pool, and a gorgeous view over the Atlantic. A little closer to Europe than the US, given it is part of Portugal, but a nice middle ground. You know, the province of Portugal. Nothing is far, by time, in our world, but time zone changes can be brutal. This was a nice middle ground.

So I invited everyone. Here's the problem. The actual capacity. Six apartments had spots in beds for 20 people. We had a lot more than 20 people.

So I rolled in the Sensi Azores Nature & Spa. Who doesn't love a spa? It's about 15 minutes by car or two minutes by flying car.

We all have flying cars.

Unfortunately, both hotels were pretty full, so I had to move everyone. We found them seriously upgraded accommodations at other hotels and paid for the difference. Mary Lou and Amy Lou helped. They even complained they haven't been in the journal much and I reminded them they could have written the stories themselves.

"Fair point," said Mary Lou. Then she kissed me. We lost a bit of our afternoon during our planning session for this trip. I am sure you're surprised. Hallie, Mary Lou, Amy Lou, and me.

It was spectacular. Identical twin 12-year-olds plus my gorgeous 16-year-old wife. Imagine us all naked. Imagine us sticky from all of our own shared juices. Now, imagine us just flat worn out from all the orgasms.

Nice visual, isn't it? It sure was to me. It especially was to Hunter when he walked in the bedroom and found us all naked, all sticky, and all asleep. Being asleep, I can only imagine the smile on his face, but I woke up when he laid down on me.

And gently started making love to me.

Me. Hallie. Amy Lou. Mary Lou. Hallie again.

Me again.

The dude has skills. We all insisted that he pull out and cum on us and we finished our sex filled afternoon with cleanup. Hunter cleans up his own messes.

Another nice visual, isn't it?

Hunter, Hallie, and I got to the hotel yesterday and had a night with just the five of us. Did I mention how sexy Hallie is? Pregnant Hallie?

Damn.

Oh, and about the five. Tia, and Jax, remember? We do have kids. Crazy, but we do. Can't exactly leave them alone. Ok, we could, but didn't. It turned out that Tia and Jax had invited Bill and Jessica. They said they didn't want to be in the way and would just take one of the other apartments.

You go, kids.

Remember the afternoon with the twins? As spectacular as it was, last night was better. Just the three of us. We are just so in love and last night wasn't just the sex, spectacular as it was. It was the connection. We had dinner by the pool and we're the only people in the entire hotel, so the service was great. It was tempting to invite our waitress back with us, but another time. Our world is so well-known now that she openly suggested the idea. Well, we are in Dionysus. We explained "not yet" to her. She was a little disappointed but understood. Tressa did suggest that she bring her younger brothers, Drax and Evik, with her. Apparently they're 11.

Oh yeah.

She understands the benefits of this being a consulate quite well. As she put it, she had never experienced them but was excited to get to do so. I reminded her she lived in Dionysus now.

I can predict how her night goes.

We suggested that there were four open apartments, and she was welcome to one for the night. We did meet Drax and Evik.

You know my love of twins. Not yet. Eventually. Probably tomorrow.

I do love twins.

Since we'd have people at two places, we'd arranged a lot of extra catering here. Everyone would spend the day here and could just use any apartment any time for anything. Hey, I meant like the restroom or changing clothes.

And fucking. Lots and lots of fucking.

The funny thing is the conversation itself will take about 3 minutes. It was pretty clear in the text. Then we'll have an amazing weekend.

Oh yeah.

Everyone had promised to arrive for brunch at 11 local time. Those coming from the US had to start early and those coming from Europe started later so 11 was a compromise. The first to arrive was Gabe, Carlina, Tavi, and Amara.

We celebrated their arrival. Repeatedly. I'm pretty sure we'll celebrate everyone's arrival. We'd had the can but don't have to talk with the staff, including the caterers, who all understood that Dad fucking Carlina by the pool would be something they'd see. Hell, Luke fucking Mom. Orlando fucking me. The list goes on and on. We're not even that worried about discretion anymore. We prefer it, but the fact that Dad would fuck Carlina is pretty well known. Hell, Mom and me in a 69.

Which will happen. Hey, this is a province. Not that complicated anymore.

Damn straight he will

Carlina here. I haven't been fucked by Bob in forever! Almost a week!

OK, my definition of forever might be different than yours. But I am on a quest. A Bob quest. We just landed and I ran to find Bob.

Ran.

I came around the hotel and there he was, by himself, by the pool, on a lounge.

Hard as a rock.

I skidded to a stop.

"Is this spot taken?" I said, pointing at his cock. He laughed.

"It was saved for you," said Bob. I climbed up and sat on his legs.

"Have you cum yet today?" I asked. He shook his head no.

I took his cock in my hands and started stroking it up and down. Sometimes just a little hand job is nice. I was going slowly and gently. Luckily Bob has fairly long arms. He sat up a bit and started playing with my clit with one hand and twisting my nipples with the other.

My hand job is easier now, because he is lubricated with my squirt. The amazing thing is he is holding himself up at about a 45 degree angle while playing with me.

That's core strength. That's why we all do core training.

We need those muscles.

I could tell he was close. I had thought I'd suck him to completion, but this is too fun. I kept edging him, over and over, but finally he couldn't hold back.

That's a lot of cum. All over me and dripping down onto my pussy. All over him too, including quite a bit in his mouth. I kept stroking and he stayed hard, so I lifted up and just sat down on his cock. I leaned over for a kiss.

Oh good. A cum filled kiss.

Bob is fun.

I changed my pace. Faster, slower, trying to keep it going. I don't think it helped when Tegan started licking me clean. Then she sat on Bob's face, and we started kissing.

We're just vibrating.

Finally Bob couldn't hold off and I lifted up and he just covered Tegan and me with cum. Just covered us.

Bob gently lifted Tegan off and laid her down beside him. Then he did the same to me. Finally he stood up.

God, he's gorgeous.

So Tegan and I were lying side by side, just covered in cum. That's when we realized there was a line. A long line.

Of cock.

Oh joy.

This is why our meetings are so well attended.

We arrived at 1100.

We finished the line at 1800.

It was quite a day.

Dinner time!

Leslie again. Carlina and Tegan had quite an afternoon. Then again, we all did. Meetings and orgies are basically synonyms in our world. I hadn't seen Freja and her family in too long. So many friends new and old which made me laugh a little, because it is the heart of my idea.

"Hi, everyone, and welcome to the Azores," I said. "Many of us are here for a few days, so if we haven't crossed paths yet, come find me. Then cum find me."

"And you all know the difference," I said. I think it might have helped that I stood up on a chair and I'm naked.

So is everyone else.

"So here's the idea," I said. "We have so many fun people in our past that we've lost connections with. My idea is that we go through the journal and reconnect with as many as we can. Amy Lou and Mary Lou are going to help us keep track, although more than one of us reaching out doesn't sound so bad. Invite them to visit. Invite them to move. Hell, just invite them. That's it."

Everyone cheered. I know at my table we all talked about people we'd lost. I'm sure others did, too.

This is going to be fun. Just a little short entry.

Although the next few days were amazing.

Really amazing.

Jamie Bond

Sophia here. This may be the weirdest post ever and if you've read the journal to here, that's saying a lot.

Danny called me today. Oh, that didn't help. Danny Boyle, the director of the Bond film that Morgan and I did. He wanted us back in the next movie.

Except my role would change. It was a complicated backstory to make it work but the end result was that I would be Bond, Jamie Bond. The film would open at James Bond's retirement party where M would introduce me as his cousin and his successor. I was a long-lost cousin that had been adopted by an Italian family and my identity only recently discovered. Remember, I was the Bond girl in the last movie. I was playing the same character. It's a good thing we never consummated anything in that movie.

Now, of course, I know why we didn't. No cousin-fucking in a Bond movie. Now, in the real-world...

In the movie, Morgan would be my wife. They were really pushing the envelope. No, I actually mean that. It was our life, but still a struggle in the world. We were not that blown away with the idea of doing another movie but the fact that they were pushing the envelope appealed to us. Yes, there was a story about her reformation and our falling in love, too.

What to do. What to do.

They did have a smaller role for a young girl that was supposed to resemble me. That pushed us into it because she wanted to do it. She was playing the kidnap victim. They didn't know her well. She was no one's victim. Elena, of course. Dr. Elena. That confused the absolute fuck out of them.

Danny was a little freaked that we refused to look at the script and would only agree if none of the other actors got scripts either.

Ralph was all over the idea. You know. Ralph Fiennes. M. Although I would have liked to have met Judi Dench. Danny promised he would make it happen.

Today was the first day of filming. It kind of blew Danny away that we would shoot the film in order. Most movies are shot completely out of order to accommodate actors and sets. You couldn't do that without a script. We couldn't do that. It wouldn't have made sense to us.

We were thrilled Ben was back as Q. He and his twin James were a lot of fun to hang around with. Oh, I didn't mean that. Yet. Much of the movie centered around a small village. You know. Cottages surrounding a larger home. Guess who just happened to own a small village like that. It made us laugh that we would get out of bed and didn't even leave home to film the movie. Poppy and Alfie even got small parts doing, well, their real jobs. That was a little confusing.

When they were casting for the film they asked for our advice filling the villain role. It needed to be an attractive young man and his partners in crime were his two much younger sisters. He was supposed to be in his early twenties, with sisters of 17 and 13.

Guess who could pull off 17 and 13 and could do an entire movie as improv. We were sure it was a complete coincidence. There was even a role for the kidnap victim's slightly older friend who was a musician.

Yeah you follow. Orlando, Leslie, Chris, and Grace.

We even built a small soundstage on our property in the barn. Remember the barn? Orlando was intrigued because he was getting more into movies, and this was another place to shoot. Oh, did I mention that Orlando wasn't just the lead villain but also was the producer. Now, Mary Lou followed him around and did most of the work but that was OK. He had borrowed Mary Lou. Since she and Grace had become great friends that worked pretty darn well. Morgan and I had borrowed Amy Lou so the two of them were both around. It also confused the crew. We thought it was hilarious. They thought it was hilarious.

Right now we were filming the opening scene at the retirement party. I was there with my wife. Elena had attended with her uncle Q. Orlando was in attendance because he was 008.

Yes, he started out as a good guy.

The scene opened with James giving his retirement speech. Yep, he had agreed to improv as well and it was going quite well until the point where he announced that 008 was a traitor.

Well that escalated quickly. Before anyone could move, a gun appeared in Orlando's hand and he had his arm around Elena's neck, dragging her to the door. She tried valiantly to escape but he picked her up one-handed and threw her over his shoulder. Elena is slim but that was impressive. He backed out the door and we all ran outside just in time to see him roar off in his Jaguar.

Danny yelled cut.

The crew cheered. I did think it went well.

I hope no one saw the wet spot

Elena here. I get to do this part, because the scene was just Orlando and me. We're not going to do the whole movie for you, but I had to tell this part because I think it is so funny. I look at the digital print to confirm what I suspected and sure enough, I was right.

So here's the setup. I was playing 14-years-old. Such a stretch, right? I was wearing a little jumper dress. You know the kind. Pretty short, buttons down the front, Mary Jane shoes, and a Peter Pan collar. Really upper crust bitchy teenage British girl. Yes, I can do a top notch British accent. I am a product of our schools. I have to say, in kind of a creepy Stepford Wives way, I looked pretty good. Somehow before the end of the movie it is going to come out that I am related to Sophia. Good grief we look like the siblings we are. Sexy AF, ya know?

So. I'm a prim, bitchy teenager, so I was wearing pretty standard white bikini underwear. Nice quality, nothing particularly special. The problem was that Orlando accidentally picked me up backwards. He was supposed to put me over his shoulder so I faced forward, and you could see both of our faces. I ended up over his shoulder with my feet sticking out. The bigger problem was that his grip was just a touch off from what we practiced, probably because I was upside down. That meant that while one of my legs was sticking out, the other wasn't primly next to it as planned. That leg was flailing in the wind. I suspected, and later confirmed, that the entire scene was one nice, long panty shot. A wide open upskirt.

Which led to the next concern. Orlando is, well, Orlando. Do I really need to say more? When Orlando picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and casually backs out while holding you, a young woman's body reacts. Particularly given that his slightly askew hold means that his hand was firmly over my breast.

I had a physiological reaction, and you don't have to be a doctor to understand it. I got wet. Gushingly so. I could tell my panties were not just visible, but simply soaking wet. Again, what I suspected, and later confirmed was true.

My panties had become see-thru. Oh, for the really great view, you had to freeze frame and zoom in, but then you could step forward and watch my pussy open and close as my leg swung around. It was a bit of a long scene and all that opening and closing took its toll. If you went forward slowly, you could, in slow motion, see me squirt.

It was a big orgasm.

But you may recall my earlier observation in Paris. I have a beautiful pussy. Because I truly do. It's an adorable pussy. I did point it out to Danny late that same night when I got a moment at the editing controls, to Danny's displeasure. I showed him the entire thing. Opening and closing, cumming, squirting. He discussed it quite professionally, while sporting a painfully hard cock. I wasn't going there, but I did feel bad for him.

Remember, I do have a beautiful pussy. We finally decided that at normal speed, while you could tell my panties were showing a little, it was not untoward. If a freak wants to slow-mo my pussy, more power to them. Yes, I said those words exactly to Danny. I think he might have cum in his pants.

Sorry, Danny.

It was an auspicious first day of shooting.

The scene when he locked me up in his secure whatever place was a bit uninspired. We did everything we could to make the scene more interesting, including inserting a little sexual tension. Again, nothing untoward. Just a spark. Some chemistry.

Today, the second day, I'm in a shot where I escape. Somehow that involves me jumping out of an airplane in one of those flying suits. You look like a flying squirrel. You do! Mine was, for some reason, in rainbow colors. Was I gay? Just loved rainbows? It was truly never explained. Let me back up while Danny sets the scene.

"Elena, this scene is all you, but it is short. You come running up to the open door of the jump plane, already wearing the suit. You jump on board and the plane takes off. We'll cut, bring the plane around, put in your stunt double and do that actual jump. She'll have a discrete body cam and another stunt man will follow her out the door with a helmet cam. It should be spectacular when we put it together."

"Well that's silly," I said. He looked at me funny.

"It's not silly at all. It's going to be a great scene," said Danny, a bit boastfully.

"That's not what I meant at all," I said. "Using a stunt double. That's a lot of extra useless work. I can do the jump. No problem." Danny just stared at me. He waved over the stunt coordinator and made me repeat myself.

"No fucking way. Insurance wouldn't have it," said the coordinator. He's a good looking dude. Hmm. Was he scoping me out?

This is a consulate, you know.

Sorry, it is hard to focus when you're horny. I didn't even get any last night! The highlight of my sexual day was cumming on camera. OK, that part was a little cool.

"I am not covered with insurance," I said. "I waived it. I had to. You couldn't afford it."

"You mean your parents waived it," said the coordinator. "And why couldn't you be insured?" At this point Danny was no longer able to hold it in and bent over double laughing. I just glared at him. That wasn't nice.

"We haven't formally met," I said, extending my hand. "I am Princess Elena of Dionysus." I think he fainted briefly. How could this dude not know? I waved over the family, and I think he really did faint briefly. They all wandered off and we got back to the task at hand. A young woman came up and handed him an iPad. She just pointed at it. Danny and I moved around so we could see, too.

I love this video. It's when we were all learning the flight suits. Yeah, yeah, we all looked like flying squirrels. This was the finals of our first races. I was up against Leslie. She'd beaten Chris, which drove the Secret Service nuts. Yes, during her Presidency. That was a day I should recount. Anyway, the goal was out the door and to the ground in the shortest period of time. We dove out of the door together. We'd staged camera buoys all the way down. They're very cool. They're kind of like a GoPro with antigrav.

So back to the fastest route. It was diving out of the door, holding your hands hard against your sides and pointing straight down. The winner was the person that was most insane and waited the longest to extend their wings. Between Leslie and me, it was a close race to crazy. Now, the suits had a mechanical system so that if it detected we'd hit the point of no return, it would deploy the wings. We'd all experienced that in at least one jump.

It's weird AF.

This video was edited together and followed us all the way down, very close. The little buoys were fast as fuck to keep up. We both deployed under 30 meters off the ground. Very fucking close. You have to pull a number of Gs and go straight up for a bit, or you hit the ground hard. Deadly hard. Suddenly we're both shooting into the sky. At that point the tightest spiral down wins. That's tough because the G forces are substantial. That's the second place you can win.

This race was a photo finish. The buoys automatically capture stills and it showed that I won, by about 3/1000ths of a second.

The coordinator turned to me.

"That was you and Leslie," he said. I smiled and nodded.

"You couldn't pay me enough to ever do that," he said. "Ever. Seriously ever. You really want to do this?"

"Yes," I said. "But I need my suit. It has safeties yours don't." I didn't mention that if all else failed, antigrav kicked in and we floated gently to the ground. I'd experienced that too, when one of the solenoids seized. I didn't mention that now we do these races without suits. Naked. Flying ourselves.

He turned to Danny.

"That will take almost a full day off the shoot. It should cut several days out of editing," he said to Danny. That made Danny happy. Interesting. The smile from the stunt coordinator made another part of Danny happy. More power to ya, guys.

I had my suit flown in plus an entire fleet of bouys. We were going to have every fucking angle. They cloaked, so you couldn't see them in the film. They really are cool. We built them to be drones on other planets, but, well, we think they're cool. They still wanted their cameraman to jump, which was fine with me. What did I care? I did laugh, because his suit, mask, and everything else were the color of a green screen. Even if a camera caught him in the shot, he was easy to digitally remove.

Movies are fucking fun.

What a freaking day and it didn't even involve sex. Yet. Tonight was going to be a regular fuckfest.

Back to the story. We're about to take off for what they hope is a one-shot take. I'm supposed to run out and jump onto the plane at the last minute. My nemesis jumps onto another plane and the chase ensues. So far, so good. I love the symbolism that I am in a pristine white plane, and he is a sinister black plane. We've discussed, at length while the concept is good, the colors are not. Not anymore. We're leaning towards Green and Red.

But it is kind of Christmasy. Yellow and black is a bee. You get the idea. We'll decide later. They can chromakey in on the correct colors. We're finally at altitude and flying over the landing zone. We have over a thousand drones in the air, all cloaked. You're thinking the drones with the four horizontal airplane propellers.

Nope. Imagine a golf ball, and you're close. But not perfect. Now overlay that image size with a 1960s flying saucer. Silver. The size of golf ball. A thousand.

Cloaked. I got the signal and I jumped. The bad guy is supposed to be a little above me, and I'm supposed to be a bit of a novice, so I am flying pretty horizontal with him chasing me. I'm actually doing a spiral to stay over the landing zone. I reach the point where I am supposed to look over my shoulder.

To see him tumbling through the air, completely out of control. For no reason I can imagine, he is still holding the prop gun. I rotate up and gain altitude, letting him catch me. We're still high, so we're good. I flew over and instinctively knock the gun out of his hand and fly close enough for him to hear me. He beats me too it.

"Fight me," he said. "As low as we can go. Then save me." Then he threw a punch. I could see he was trained, and I am too, so we put on a great show all the way down. I didn't got that low, not knowing what happens when I'm holding him, too.

Which turned out bad. My suit couldn't hold us both. For some reason I couldn't hold us either. Not sure why. Maybe the constricting suit. I usually fly naked. I could either hold him or hold my arms out. Not both. We'd survive, but it was going to hurt. As in broken legs and more.

And then we suddenly slowed. We felt like we were lying on something all the way to the ground. When we hit there was the sound of broken metal and plastic. That caused the drones to uncloak, basically at their death. The drones. All of them. They had flown under us and basically lowered us to the ground. How the fuck did they do that? We stood up just as a couple SUVs screamed up. The first two out the door were my moms. They ran right over and made sure we were both alright. Danny hopped out and hurried over, too.

"Did you get the shot?" asked the stuntman. "Did you?" Danny laughed.

"All the way down. They cut out about 15 feet from the ground. Now we see why," he said, looking at the pile of dead, twisted drones. "I cannot believe they had that capability. They saved you both." As he said that, Rylee walked up behind him. I have no clue why, but Rylee is always a wonderful thing. That got me a dazzling smile. I might have cum. A little.

"They didn't have that capability," said Rylee. "They learned it. They figured it out themselves. They analyzed the situation, formed a group, calculated that they could make a difference, and did it, all on their own."

"I should know," said Rylee. "Every line of code is mine."

"Well they sacrificed their lives for us," said the stunt man. "I'm Brock. It is an honor to meet you." He stuck out his hand to Rylee. Then I think he remembered the stupid protocol and it looked like his hand was on fire he pulled it back so fast. Rylee laughed.

"We don't care about that bullshit. Now, a hug, you should ask permission and say please," said Rylee. She held out her hand and he finally shook it. I didn't think he had the balls, but you could see him steel himself. I admit, it made me laugh. Yeah, I just survived near death by plunging out of an airplane with a failed suit, but ask for a hug? No way!

Then he proved me wrong. He turned to me.

"May I please have a hug," he said. I'll hug anyone, but hugging a fit stuntman seemed OK to me. I opened my arms, and he came in delicately. I don't know how else to describe it. Oh. Got it.

I just pulled him in tight, to his surprise. Yep, hard as a rock. I shouldn't. I knew I should't.

I did. I whispered in his ear.

"If you want to stay for a bit, Rylee and I will both take care of that for you. This entire property is a consulate," I whispered. For some reason, he melted into the hug at that point, but finally stood up.

"That would be quite an experience, but not one my wife would appreciate me experiencing," said Brock.

"You might be surprised," said Rylee. "Let me ask you this. Are you familiar with the approach to sex in Dionysus?" Given he moaned a little and his cock bounced in his pants, we took that answer as yes.

"Now, you don't have to answer, and we can stop this conversation, but if you're willing, tell us what you would think about a wild night of passion, in an orgy with many of the Royals and extended family. Then tell us what your wife would think. We'll keep your secret. Just be honest," I said.

"I think our marriage could handle it. A fun, one-night thing. I can't see us having opportunity again," said Brock. "We both keep a list of people I'd like to fuck and have agreement that if the opportunity arose we should take it. It's a fun game, but neither one of us thought the opportunity would arise."

"Am I on your list?" asked Rylee. He blushed.

"You're on both our lists," said Brock.

"I'm not as well known, so I'm not surprised I'm not on your list," I said, and he laughed.

"Who said you weren't on our lists?" said Brock. "We saw the Paris show. This might be a little weird, but you have a beautiful pussy."

"She does at that," said Rylee. I'm glad she said it. It might have been boastful if I said it.

"What about men?" said Rylee. "Which men are on both your lists." He blushed again.

"Dude," said Rylee. "We're all bisexual. Absolutely anyone on your list from Dionysus is. Everyone."

"Everyone?" he squeaked. "I've never..." His voice trailed off.

"How would your wife feel about your getting fucked in the ass?" asked Rylee. Getting a little blunt there. Well, he moaned, so that seems good.

"She's always wanted to see it," he said, in a guttural voice.

"Who's the top cock on your list?" I asked. Top cock. I'm going to remember that. I expected Bob or Orlando.

"Tomas," he said. Well, a solid choice.

"Done," said Rylee. She smiled at me. Oh, she just thought to him. We talked for a bit more and behind Rylee I saw Ruby's plane land and Ruby and Tomas got out.

Brock saw it, too. He just stared at Rylee and then at me.

"You can do it at that distance?" he said. Whoa. That was an unexpected turn.

"Can your wife do video?" I asked. This time he looked shocked and then smiled. Rylee and I both laughed and pulled our tops down, flashing him.

I swear I could hear her moan. I asked for their address and sent a car. It wasn't 15 minutes later that it returned. A gorgeous woman and two teenagers got out.

"What the hell?" said Brock. The younger teenager, a girl, walked over. Wait, make that preteen.

"We will never get another opportunity," she said. "We are going to fuck as many new friends as we can, but first you're fucking me and Landyn is fucking Mom and then Landyn and I are going to put on a show, hopefully with Luke and Cassie."

Just then, Luke and Cassie walked up, and the girl laughed.

"I will take that as a positive sign," said the girl.

"As you should," said Cassie. Cassie held out her hand.

"Come on, Rebekah," said Cassie. I don't know how Cassie knew her name and I have been around long enough to not even ask. I'm going to put my beautiful pussy to work.

Did we mention we gutted one of the cottages and turned it into a big wrestling room? How handy is that.

We started off with us all watching Tomas fuck Brock. They started out slow, but it got a little wild. I think Rebekah sliding back onto Brock's cock while they were fucking was a win. I explained to Penelope, Landyn's wife, how to slide under Rebekah. Then I taught Landyn how to get into the golden arches with Penelope.

He laughed.

"Pretty familiar with the golden arches," said Landyn, as he slid into his mom.

OK, five people fucking.

And then it got crazy. Did I mention that Penelope and Rebekah called a joint gang bang?

A fun evening for all.

So I get to tell the flashback

This is Chris. This happened back when I had that job in DC for a bit. Just a fill-in. A substitute. Just boppin' along. As President.

I was at my desk one day, in the Oval Office, having a meeting with my Chief of Staff and the new Senator from New York. You might know her. Went to Boston College. Sexy when she dances. Oh, and Barb was my Chief of Staff, remember? The sexual tension in that room was palpable. I remember when Jaylen came in for the official photograph, he looked at me and smirked.

Yeah, dude. The blend of our aromas is quite nice. Yeah, that got the tiniest of little snorts out of him.

Barb swatted him on the arm and all four of us started laughing.

"Let me open the doors," said Jaylen. "It is such a beautiful day."

"Thanks, Jaylen," said the Senator. "Sometimes you just need to air out a room. Do you want to come over tonight?"

Jaylen just smiled at her and nodded.

Damn. Well, we did make her apartment a consulate for a reason.

I know, I am not on track, but come on, that's a great story of my Presidency. Yeah, all three of us were leaking so much, since we were so horny, that the pheromones in the room were quite aromatic. That sounded Presidential and shit, didn't it?

Jaylen opened the door to leave, and Leslie ran in with a Secret Service agent behind her. He must be new. The rest of the team is used to a family member barging in. Now, for some reason Leslie is dressed like a flying squirrel. Not the typical White House attire. Just then, the agent dove to tackle Leslie. I don't think she even noticed. The dude just bounced off of her and faceplanted on the carpet.

"Oh my God," shouted AOC. Come on, you knew it was AOC, right? "You're wearing a flying suit. That is so fun!"

OK, we all stared at her. She just shrugged.

Behind Leslie, we could see the agent crawl to the door, open it, crawl out and close it. I hope he is OK. I have to make sure he is OK.

"Hold up," I said, holding up my hand. "I've got to see if he is OK."

I walked over to the door and opened it, to find the guy standing up in the outer office. That's a good sign. He was also getting a lecture from his supervisor about trying to tackle Princess Leslie. Who had walked up with me. In her squirrel suit.

"Hold up," I said. My new catchphrase. "You've got this backwards. He didn't know who ran into the Oval office but he was dealing with it. That's to be commended. Good job, dude."

I might say dude more than most presidents.

"Yeah," said Leslie. "I do look like a flying squirrel." She turned around and, sure enough, the entire back was a flying squirrel. Just then AOC walked up and laughed.

"I've got to pop," said AOC. "Good job, dude. You made the right call. When are we jumping?"

Dude. See? She's presidential material.

"6 pm tonight," said Leslie. "Meet us at the house. Bring Jaylen." That made her laugh, but she agreed and left.

"But I don't understand," said Karson. We found out his name. The supervisor looked at me and I nodded. I reached out and took Karson's hand, which startled him, and pulled him back into the office. It happens with every damn agent. It is a good thing they understand discretion.

"OK, Karson," I said. "This is going to get a little weird, and you know you can't tell anyone, right?"

"Yes, Miss President," he said. "All part of the job."

"My name is Chris," I said. "Just Chris. OK?" He smiled and nodded.

"OK," I said. "Here's the first thing." I pointed down towards our feet. I admit, he handled it better than I expected. We're about a foot off the ground, floating. Since I'm holding his hand, he can float, too.

He gave me a big smile and gently pulled his hand from mine.

And still floated.

"Georgetown," he said, smiling.

Oh goody.

"And I know how to fly in a flying suit," said Karson. "And I am off at 1700."

Well good.

"You'll be off at 1705," said Leslie. "Then we'll jump."

His moan was impressive.

I felt a little bad

I felt a little bad when he bounced off. Nothing personal there, dude. We're just pretty invulnerable. Leslie here, of course.

Dude. Hah. Now I'm doing it. No, I'm duding it.

Telling Dad. Bringing spatulas.

Anyway.

We met at The Falls. Chris, Karson, Sandy, Elena, and me. AOC is Sandy to her friends. We're her friends now, in ways you may not be aware.

Yet.

Anyway. Jaylen is here but isn't jumping. As he put it, no fucking way. I guess I should clear up where here is. We couldn't exactly jump over the National Mall. I knew we'd enjoy it, so I bought a farm in central Virginia. About two hours by car from DC. Not as long by S-88. I'd suggested a flying limo, but the Secret Service is annoying. Well, they are. It actually worked out well that Karson can be a squirrel because it made the Secret Service happy. Little did they know that Karson wouldn't be willing to do what Chris was willing to do and she's never flown in a squirrel suit before. None of us have. Our fear is near zero, given we can all fly without the suit. No, not literally without the suit, although you loved that mental image, now didn't you. Well, yes we can naked but, well you get the idea.

We got to the farm and landed outside a big barn. The doors were open, and our jump platform was right inside the door. Now, you're thinking some form of airplane.

Nope. A literal platform with anti-grav. We stand on it and it goes up like an elevator and we jump off. Then it lands and we do it over again. Yes, we can do that and yes we did do that. There are also hundreds of drones off to the side, on tables. They'd follow us up and follow us down. Cloaked. We wouldn't want them in the shot.

We started off just jumping and learning to fly them around. It was Chris' idea. It was.

"Let's race to the ground," she said. "First person to land wins."

And the races began.

First was Chris versus Sandy. Pretty much cemented Chris' insanity, although there was some inSandyty.

Didn't work. Still telling Dad.

I raced Sandy next.

Still crazier. It isn't that she was sane, just less crazy. Damn, those tits, too.

Sorry.

Our final race was the one recounted above. We just shot to the ground, side-by-side, at terminal velocity. Roughly 180mph or 290kph. Straight down.

It is a rush.

3/1000 of a second.

I paid off. Right there on the grass.

Sandy helped. So did Jaylen.

Karson was a big help in more ways than one. The dude is endowed.

I think he's dating Sandy now.

The premiere

The movie is in the can, so to speak. It is all digital now, so I suppose that doesn't make literal sense. Oh, Sophia here. We're having the premiere of the film in London. We thought about Robertville, mostly because it would have been a premiere/orgy.

Seemed like a good idea to me. I explained it to Danny. His eyes almost bugged out of his head.

London it is.

We didn't want to overwhelm the theater with family, fun as that might have been, so it is a small group. Morgan and me. Orlando, Grace, and Valeria. Elena and Nick.

We're all in the movie plus our significant others.

Luca and Tegan, of course.

Bob, Amy, and Pari.

That's all. Of course the King, two queens, six princesses, and three princes isn't overwhelming. A great poker hand though.

We've never even seen the entire movie. We decided to see the final cut together, at the premiere. It is starting now.

A few minutes in, Elena leaned over.

"I guess my wet panties are a little more visible on a giant screen," she said, laughing softly.

I guess they are.

Nothing too exciting about the premiere other than the panties. I wonder if any of our group is wearing panties?

I'd guess no.

There was a reception after the movies, which went well, and we all finally made it back to the London house late. Really late.

I ended up in bed with Morgan and Pari.

No idea why. Happy about the outcome.

Pari has skills.

Being proactive

Della here. I'm the 12-year-old commander of our Zeta forces. Yeah, I don't get it either, but sure. This thread is going to wander around a bit, so my apologies. The first part is great fun. The second part, not so much. It might get split up by the editors. We'll see. Yeah, the journal has editors now. Sometimes they miss things, so be patient with them. It's a lot to absorb.

So let's start with the good. We're on our way to the Annual Warrior Competition, in Jordan. Now, we really do prefer secrecy, but the likelihood of this outing us is small. You see, we're sending three teams and no team member is over 18. That actually caused a furor with the organizers, but Leslie settled them down. I don't know how. I suspect it is the tits.

Maybe not, but they are spectacular tits. Says the girl with nothing up there yet.

So our three teams are, with the team lead first:

Leslie, Gabe, Maite, Bill
Ruby, Kevin, Horacio, Gina
Della, Tiger, Nickie, Manda

Let me tell you, the competition to be on a team was seriously fierce. Look at that group. Jessica is still pissed. Nickie beat her by 2/1000s of a point. She's not pissed at Nickie. She congratulated her. She's pissed at herself. We had over 150 competitors. Our competition mirrored theirs, down to the judging, so we know these teams are good at the actual events. Should I mention that number 150 on our list completed the course in what would be an event record.

Read that again. The person that came in #150. Now, the gap between 1 and 150 was pretty damn small. If a butterfly fluttered its wings, the order might have been vastly different.

Let's look at those teams again, but just their ages.

16, 16, 15, 5

14, 16, 12, 14

12, 8, 10, 10

Yeah, we're going to be controversial. One of the challenges of our ages was that they didn't want responsibility for kids overnight. Imagine kids as a fourteen syllable word and you've just about got it. Hell, they wouldn't have let us in except for our fairly significant sponsorship. Yeah, maybe we bought our way in, but we'll fight our way out.

Just wait until we finish 1-2-3.

The funny thing is we do have one adult with us. Derk. Remember? He's Amy's friend that has been through our training. He's keeping up with it, too. He's been back twice for more training and stayed with Bob and Amy both times. Still no word on why. But we're allowed a coach and they absolutely insisted they needed to be an adult. Their definition of adult. We talked about it at great length, but then realized one important thing. In the case of a team member injury, the country's coach can step in.

That changed our limitations, because Bentley and Maria came into play, but Amy suggested, strongly, that it be Derk. That's just not something you challenge. It's not deference to authority, although I suspect Queen Amy could insist. It is a recognition that there are a few people whose suggestions always have a reason. High on that list is Amy.

Besides. Derk is one hell of a fuck.

We solved accommodations problem by dropping a nice 287 into the Gulf of Aqaba, which has the only port in Jordan. How handy we will be sleeping in Dionysus, right? We'll have to be careful and find the fine line between enough sex to energize us and too much sex that tires us out.

Who am I kidding? If we're the best in the world at anything, it is sex. Marathon levels of sex. Sex, sex, sex. We love sex.

Sorry. I'm a horny little thing.

And look at that list of people. You also know that boat is full. Everyone that means something to us came to cheer us on. Tiger is particularly surprised. His vision of his parents was a little more 1950s twin beds.

Then we all watched Bob fuck his dad in the ass. Worthy of an audience.

We're about to leave and we're making a point. We're flying over and each flying our own plane. Before you wonder how twelve planes fit on a 287, they don't. They just hover off to the side and drop on the deck one by one. It is a little freaky to see twelve planes floating near your boat, but it works. It sure keeps other boats away, right?

Leslie's team are all in an F-81.

Ruby's team are all in an F-87.

My team has S-88 planes.

We flew over, which took virtually no time, and then, with permission, did an impromptu air show.

It is fucking impressive.

We finally landed at our designated spots, to great attention. How often have you seen twelve space fighter planes float down from the sky. All around us are boring transport planes. Most of them with propellers.

Oh God. Propellers.

We all came down the stairs, in our camo uniforms. We're small. We know it. We rock it.

A small group came over to welcome our team. They looked at us and immediately directed their attention to Kevin.

He just shook his head no. So did Gabe, Horacio, Tiger, and Bill, in that order.

I got bored. So I stepped forward.

"My name is Della. I am the commander of our Zeta forces and the leader of Team 3. This is Leslie, the leader of Team 1, and Ruby, the leader of Team 2.

These people may be the most clueless on the planet. Maybe, just maybe, I could excuse them not knowing Ruby, but Leslie? The Minister of Defense of the most powerful military in the world. Come on. Nothing. No reaction at all. Well, not quite true. A strong aura of disdain.

"Welcome to your only day in the competition," smirked one of the team members, in Arabic.

We'd discussed this. Would we have a competitive advantage if we didn't admit we spoke the language of every team here. The short answer was likely yes, but small. We decided to out ourselves one language at a time, when it felt appropriate.

It feels appropriate. We all agreed. It is handy that all of us can think to each other.

I looked right at him. You know it is a him. There are very few female competitors.

"Are side bets allowed?" I asked, in Arabic.

After their startled looks faded, they responded.

"Bets, no," said the leader. "Challenges yes. You may issue a challenge to a competitor. After the competition, the two will fight. Hand to hand combat."

Leslie smirked. Yeah, with a little bit of a snort.

"Well," I said. "I issue you a challenge." The dude laughed.

"OK, we'll allow an exception on betting," said the leader. Dude, well played.

"It would not be fair for us to do a financial bet," I said. "There is no amount that would limit me."

"You could bet a billion dollars," said the guy I am challenging.

A chorus of twelve voices shouted yes. Bill got it out first. We'll pay that off later.

"OK," he responded, in our heads. With a laugh.

"If I win," I said. "You publicly apologize and admit that a little girl beat you." Oh boy, that one hit home, but his pride got the better of him.

"And when I win?" he said. Oh, cocky. There is nothing I like better than a cocky opponent.

"You tell me," I said.

"You suck my cock with everyone watching," he said to the shock of everyone.

"After which you would be executed for the crime," I said. "I think that might be a downside for you."

At least he laughed.

"A billion dollars," he said, grinning.

"Deal," I said. Leslie laughed.

"That made you laugh?" said the head of the delegation.

"She's going to kick his ass," said Leslie.

The actual events

Still Della. So the events are interesting. They are:

• Precision Pistol Event
• Tower Run Event
• Precision Rifle Event
• The Obstacle Course Event
• Rifle Run Event

The rifle and pistol events are obvious. The Rifle run is just target shooting at intervals in a 10K run. The tower run event is one where we'll kick ass. It is being held at the Amman Rotana hotel. Fifty floors. Fastest speed.

We're excited about the obstacle course, too.

I do love one small irony. We're pretty confused about this, but police force tactical units can enter. The Tulsa Police department, from Tulsa, Oklahoma, in the US, has a team here. We're struggling with any situation where a city would need a tactical attack force to maintain law and order. It just doesn't make sense to those of us that live in a crime-free world. They're using aging equipment. Very aging equipment. Why? Because Emma won't sell military equipment to police departments. Only military.

Then again, fighting a war with a pistol with bullets is just silly, too. My earrings are more powerful. By orders of magnitude. But they're prevalent in the outside world and if we ever find ourselves in need, and with access, we sure as hell better know how to use one, so we practice with damn near every weapon in the world. We're using a wide variety of weapons in the competition. Mostly just for fun. We're accurate with them all. We found a website that listed the Top 10 military pistols. We have four of each. We'll just randomly pick a pistol on the day of competition and make a point with it. There are three rounds for each competitor. We'll switch guns between each round. It is actually stupid, because each round lets you sight in more accurately.

As long as you don't change guns. We're just that good. Now, if the plan fails, the second competitor from each team will stick with a gun. They're our backstop. Our best shooter on each team goes second.

Even that didn't quite work out like we planned. Let's tell you the story of the first round of the first team. This one belongs to Nickie, so I'll let her tell the story.

It was fucking hilarious

Nickie here. If you don't remember me, I run the marina that Akira and friends own in San Francisco. I've always been an athlete and the Zeta training was fun. Being in the US and trained is not a bad thing, either.

I'm up first because I am the second best shooter on our team. OK, we flipped a coin. We're all damn good. I'll go first and then Della. I've chosen three guns to use. Yeah, we're showing off. Fuck'em. You're allowed three guns, just in case of failure. My competitor, who actually is from the Tulsa police department, is using a Glock 17. I prefer the 19, given I'm small, but the 17 is a solid gun. I could kick his ass with it.

I've chosen the Walther P99, the Sig Sauer P320, and the HK USP. No particular reason. I went into the armory on the boat today and these were the first three boxes I picked up. I honestly didn't care.

Our guns are in a rack in front of us, pointing downfield, of course. He actually objected that I had three different guns until someone pointed out that it was a major disadvantage to me. I'm not sure he's that bright. He's big and muscular and my guess is there were steroids involved.

Sorry about your testicles, dude.

We finally got going. I shot first, then he shot, and they pulled in our targets. He has a nice grouping. A very nice grouping. Tight. Six in the inner circle. He's pretty good.

My target had a hole. One hole. Directly in the center of the target. He started laughing.

"One bullseye and nine misses," he laughed. "Not an impressive score there, kid." He kept laughing.

Then they announced the scores. He has an 82, which is a respectable score in the first round. Me, I have a perfect 100.

All ten of my shots hit the target. They just all went through the same hole. I am pretty proud of myself, particularly given we're outdoors and it is a little windy.

He went ballistic. Accused the organizers of cheating. Accused me of using secret Dionysus tech. It was kind of embarrassing, even after they assured him that the super high-speed camera tracked my bullets through the target.

"Dude," I said. "I'm better than you. Watch me do it again. Give me your third gun and I'll do the next two rounds with that." He grabbed the gun and swung it towards me. I quickly pushed it downfield.

"You know better," I said. That did embarrass him a little, but he passed me the gun and two full clips. I did a field check of the gun and loaded it and we were ready for round two.

He went first, then I did, to similar results. His grouping was a little tighter, which pulled him up to an 85. My score was delayed and three of the judges were arguing. Finally they posted my second 100. It turned out that there problem was that while my first shots were all bullseyes, the second set was just a little closer to the center of the target and they felt it should be scored higher.

"It's just the circle," I said. They all kind of nodded sheepishly.

Round three didn't go well. The dude is pissed. Seriously pissed. Pissed does not bode well for your competitive pistol skills. He score a 49.

Can ya guess what I scored?

You would think this would be a moment of self-reflection. Not this dude. He turned to me and damn near shouted.

"I issue a challenge!" he shouted. Oh, well good grief. It is not going to help your pride when I kick your ass. Della still had her challenge outstanding, but apparently in event challenges are settled immediately. Everyone backed up and cleared us a space. I am going to have fun. I am going to fight using Capoeira. Pari teaches it. It was invented by Angolan slaves in Brazil. It combines martial arts with dance. They covered up their practice by making them dances.

It's quite beautiful. And surprisingly potent. It also involves a lot of hands stands and cartwheels, which might be interesting, because I'm wearing shorts due to the heat. Fairly short shorts.

Commando.

Well, it is a competition, right? Kind of a show. I'm going to put on a show. Hey, I have a nice pussy. It doesn't embarrass me at all. It just might cause a little controversy when the 10-year-old flashes her pussy multiple times.

Although I might not even have to do that. He's predictable. He came running straight at me. I felt like a bull fighter. If only had a cape. I waited until he had completely committed by leaping towards me.

Then I took one simple step to the left. He face planted quite effectively, including sliding a couple feet. On concrete.

Somebody threw him a towel and he wiped off the blood and did it again, except this time he is panting. Yeah, those muscles are not the result of regular aerobic exercise. This time I was a little more flamboyant and moved out of the way with a cartwheel. If you were watching me, you got a crotch shot.

I glanced around. People were watching. The tented out khakis were pretty obvious. The rules said uniforms. We have uniform shorts.

Apparently they don't. None of them. They have to be baking. I do laugh though. Leslie and Maite have uniform rompers on. Wait, so does Ruby. What do the three of them have in common?

Tits. Nice ones. From Maite's delicious B cups to Leslie's almost D cups. Ruby's close to a C cup now. Their rompers also had a common feature. They appear to have come from Jessica's closet.

And none of them had underwear on. All within the rules. All a complete affront to, well, everyone.

And they think it is hilarious. Kevin threatened to wear a speedo with his rank on it. He even had one made and modeled it for us. That particular suit didn't survive. We all tore it off of him.

So back to the challenge. Three face plants wore him down a bit, so this time he approached more slowly, fists up. He kept making big roundhouse swings, which I easily dodged. He was wearing down fast. I had a new goal. For him to resign without me touching him.

That plan ended when he managed to get me in a bear hug. Yeah, his muscles are strong. I did the only thing I could do now.

I beat the shit out of him. I started with the typical shot to the nuts. He should have grabbed me so I didn't have that movement. He bellowed and let me go just enough for me to escape and I pummeled him. It took three good shots for me to bring him down. Left, right, left.

His eyes glazed over, and he slid down to his knees and then in slow motion fell over onto his face.

Out cold. I didn't want to do that. I liked the idea of the pussy shots and I only got to do one. I waited until the medics assured me he was going to be fine, then I did a complete circle, with repeated cartwheels. Everybody got their shot. After I finished, I looked around and at least two or three had gotten their shot. Sorry, guys, that's going to chafe.

OK, maybe I shouldn't have done that, but come on. I'm 10. Sometimes...

It might have all blown over, but Della went next, against a team from Brunei. He started complaining before they even started, so she did the same borrow his gun trick, except this is a gun she's never shot. Her first round was 98. Then two rounds at 100.

I think we won.

Oops. We came in third. Leslie's team and Ruby's teams both scored perfect scores. I'm OK with that.

The Tower Run

Leslie here. Today is the Tower Run. Fifty stories up, timed. They send you off 30 seconds apart. There are two runners per team and 24 teams so 48 runners. The expected time to win is under 5 minutes. Several of the teams are whining about the event. A couple are super cocky. You predict your own time to set the order. Fastest first so there is no passing. On my team it is Maite and me. Ruby is running with Horacio. Della's team are all small, which is a disadvantage, but they're fierce. This event is Tiger and Manda. We're spread out in the groupings, because they took your estimate and then apparently just made shit up. My time prediction was lower than Maite's, but she's three runners ahead of me. Who knows? We suspect they were trying to fluster us.

They didn't.

We seriously do love this event. It doesn't matter where we are, we find something to run. New York is easy, because we have multiple apartments in the sky. Four Seasons are handy too, although most hotels will let us do it. The Eiffel tower is great fun, because it is open. We knew it would be an event here, but it is an integral part of our training.

Now, there are rules about passing, should it happen. The passer passes on the left and the runner being passed gives way. The runner ahead of me is from Lebanon. The runner behind me is from Tunisia. Ahead of the Lebanese runner is a runner from Czechia and in front of him is Maite. She has a runner from Kenya ahead of her and a runner from Kosovo ahead of him.

We're going to be passing. It's pretty clear.

Maite went off, then the two runners between us and then it was my turn. I took off as fast as I could. We have a technique at the turns that we grab the handrail and use centripetal force for acceleration. We worked with Nan and Tegan on that one and it makes a difference. It makes us all laugh that we gain speed in the corners. I guess it doesn't matter the event. Corners are our thing. I wasn't to the seventh story yet when I caught the Lebanese runner. You could tell he was surprised, but he let me pass easily. By the twelfth floor I caught the runner from Czechia. He was a dick. I called him on it, in Czech. My comment was simple.

"There are cameras. I'll protest," I said. He moved, although not much. He also grabbed my ass. I'm going to challenge his ass. He'll regret it. Trust me. Don't grab me. Just don't. At the fourteenth floor, I caught the runner from Kenya. That means Maite already passed him, and I did, too. I ran alone for a while, but at the twenty-eight floor caught the runner from Kosovo. Even more running alone, but at the forty-seventh floor, I caught a runner from Belarus. He was a bit of a dick but let me by. I was flying at this point. No, not literally, although the ten second flight up the center of the staircase sure would have set a record.

I was still flying when I hit the finish line. Maite was waiting for me.

Remember, the runners are supposed to be in speed order, so the board should have shown us roughly in that order. After all, we were the twenty-third and twenty-sixth runner.

One-two. Maite beat me by less than a second. Just then Kevin crossed the finish line. We stayed out of the way but waited and watched the leaderboard.

1-2-3-4-5-6. Ruby, Maite, Kevin, Manda, me, Tiger.

Think about that. Maite beat me by less than a second. Kevin and Manda were between us in times. Tiger was less than a half second behind us. Ruby beat Maite by almost four seconds, but come on, Ruby. The team in seventh was fourteen seconds behind us. That's a big number in a race that is less than five minutes. She is a runner from Tulsa. Yes, she. Props to the Tulsa team for that. The interesting thing is that she set the course record. Except for us.

She came over.

"Damn," she said. "I thought I was a lock. I was on a tower record pace, which I hit. Just not what you did. I'm Irene." We did all the introductions.

"By the way, I want to thank you," said Irene, to Della. "He needed that." That reminded me!

"Oh!" I said. "That reminded me." I found the runner from Czechia. He was with his team, laughing.

"Nobody grabs my ass without permission," I said, in my stern Princess voice. Not my stern voice. Not my Princess voice. My stern Princess voice. It can be intimidating. I said it in Czech, so they all understood. He laughed.

"The whole world knows you're a whore," he said. Then he smiled at me. I turned to his colleagues. All of them were laughing along. I looked at them, one by one.

"I issue you each a challenge," I said. Everyone in earshot was listening and there was a collective gasp.

"You know they're done right after the event. You just set yourself up for four challenge events," said the dude that groped me, with a grin.

"I suggest you go last," I said. "That way I might not hurt you as much as I do them."

They all laughed. I think it intimidated them that all of my teammates did, too.

I saw their faces shift. A touch of fear. Della let him beat himself. I wasn't going to do it. I am going to beat the shit out of each and every one of them. By now, two judges were having a spirited discussion about seeing my pretty little ass put in my place. In Arabic. Come on. I turned to them.

"While I do have a pretty little ass," I said. "That's just bullshit. You don't treat me that way." I said. In Arabic. It startled them, but they laughed.

"Want to make a little bet on the challenges?" I asked. They seemed all in.

"If you win, you can both come out to our yacht and fuck me," I said. That seemed like an appealing choice to them.

"OK," said one of them and the other nodded.

"Don't you want to know what I win?" I said, and they laughed.

"Sure," said the other one.

"We go right into a challenge match with the two of you," I said. They started arguing over who would go first, then laughed about it never happening.

"You didn't listen," I said. "I take you on together."

"What do we get when we win?" asked one of them. Ruby stepped up and they openly leered.

"You get to fuck me," said Ruby.

"And me," said Maite.

They were dancing a little. One turned quickly.

"But if you lose," said Ruby. "Then you go right back into the ring, against me. Together."

"This is getting complicated," said Manda. "First you beat up the four of them, individually. Then you beat up these two together. Then Ruby beats them up again. Right?"

"Right," said Ruby and me, together. She laughed and said it.

And went in for a kiss. That freaked everyone out. Apparently it is illegal. We expected something to come of it, but nothing did. Word had spread about the challenge. We listened in on a lot of conversations by people that totally underestimated our language skills.

"She's going to be a bloody mess and still get fucked," said one guy.

"They should just finish her off and fuck the corpse," said another. He's sure a fun guy.

Just then Irene stood up on a bench and whistled through her fingers. It quieted everyone down.

"I'm taking side bets," she said. "My hundred dollars to your thousand that Leslie wins."

"$100 and we get to fuck you," said one guy. Irene laughed.

"$100 and a fuck against $2500," she said. She is going to make a fortune. Twenty-seven guys took her up on it. I walked over.

"You might be a little overconfident. I might be a little overconfident," I said. She laughed.

"Either I win $67,500 or twenty-seven really athletic guys fuck me. I don't have to like them to enjoy their cocks," she said.

"Let me kick their ass and you can come home with us tonight," I said. "Out to our yacht." Yeah, I know, boat, but it isn't really descriptive.

"Will there be an orgy with your entire team and the royal family?" she asked, laughing. "Can I declare a gangbang?" I gave her a second to be sure she was listening.

"Yes, and yes," I said, smiling.

Her eyes glazed over a little.

"Please go kick their asses. Five fights and the last with two opponents. I might have overshot," she said. By now we'd ridden the elevator down and the crowd had already gathered. I knew the only way this was going to work was if I took them out fast. I couldn't waste time and energy. We got into the makeshift ring made out of spectators and someone yelled Go.

He ran right at me and threw a punch. It was actually a decent punch, but I deflected it and punched him with everything I had, in the throat. Don't worry. This wasn't the kill the hijacker punch, but it is debilitating. You're not getting up for a while. He went down and passed out. A medic team ran out and took him away. I do hope he is OK.

The next guy didn't wait. He ran at me and tried just about the same move. This time I rode the punch just a little, which caused him to open up his stance. That was a bad choice on his part. My knee came up into his crotch and that had to really hurt. It bent him right over and I hit him in the neck.

He passed out, too.

More medics. The spectators were about split between outrage and respect. The last two guys on their team didn't wait either and ran out together. Well, one less fight. They clearly had no idea how to fight together, because they were stupid. The guy on my left threw a big haymaker, just as his buddy went in for a jab. As soon as I dodged, the first guy just creamed the second guy. While he was standing there looking at his fallen buddy, I hit him in the jaw. He just folded to the ground. I hope they're not running out of medics.

No break for me. Here come the two judges. Oh fun. One of them has a big knife.

"You're going to regret that," he said. There were a lot of ways I could handle this, but I just reacted. He had clearly watched me, because he was watching my right hand.

When I hit him, hard, in the nose with my left. I know the sound of a broken nose. His is pretty shattered. As he started to fall, I grabbed the knife. I turned to the other guy, and he lunged.

That's about the time he realized I was holding the knife. I didn't even have time to react. He ran full speed into the knife. Right in the heart.

That was not my intention. It is unfortunate.

I am now standing over the body of one of the judges, holding the knife, in front of hundreds of witnesses. Suddenly the crowd dissipated. Two more medics came out and loaded up the body.

And that was it. Nothing else. No inquiry. Nothing. The Czech team withdrew and flew home. Four medical evacuations. Somehow, in this group of people, that made me a legend. I do not think that is a good thing. At all.

He wasn't the first person I've killed, but I hope he is the last.

Irene walked up.

"May I give you a hug?" she asked. I just melted into her arms, and she held me for a bit. Finally I broke the hug.

"I'll take a rain check on that invitation," she said, with a small smile.

"No," I said. "I'm not struggling with it. I don't like it and wish it never happened, but it was not my fault. I didn't bring the knife. I didn't stab him. He ran right into it. What I need is a lot of people that love me and one hell of a lot of sex."

"Sounds like the right therapy to me!" she said.

And it was. Over and over.

And over.

But I should tell that story, shouldn't I?

Out on their boat

My name is Irene and I have no idea how I get to post in their journal, but Leslie set it up so I could read it, too. I've only read a few entries, but their backstory is insane.

And I want to meet Sara.

I suspect I will want to meet everyone.

Every single one.

I don't exactly know what to post, so I won't go into the normal details. Maybe in a future post.

I'll just say it was the third most spectacular day of my life. Third you ask. I have two kids. Lizabella and Kian. My first two best days.

Chris just walked up. Yes, I've met Chris and Noah.

Extraordinary.

"Hey," said Chris. "I had an idea but had to do a little homework. We think it is a little weird that a local police department has a tactical team capable of competing. For that matter, that tax dollars are used to compete. What are your thoughts?"

"That you're 100% right," I said. "Oh, I enjoy it, for sure, so it is a benefit to me, but it is irrational to have a little army inside a police department. If I was the Chief, I would never authorize it. The brass kind of get off on it."

"Interesting to hear you say that," said Chris. "Did you know that Monday is the filing deadline to run for Chief?

"I did," I said. "But why do you know that?"

"Because I think you should run," said Chris.

"Huh?" I said. Just right there with Tolkien. OK, maybe so. Lord of the Rings is weird.

"It is!" said Chris. "I know I should love it, but I didn't. The Hobbit was even more indecipherable."

"Should I be concerned that you can read my mind?" I said.

"No," said Chris. "We're pretty good about not reading without permission, but you pushed that out pretty hard."

"We?" I asked, and Chris laughed. She just waved her arm to encompass everyone on the boat.

"We," she said, still laughing.

"Sure," I said. I think I'll just move on.

"Why would you want me to run?" I said. "There is no way I can win. I have no support and no funding. I'm a freaking Black single mom who lives with her parents. I'm surprised I even got chosen for this team!"

"I think you'd be surprised," said Chris. "For example, you have the best funded campaign in the history of the office."

OK, I laughed. Wait, what?

"We did the research," said Chris. "There is no limit on campaign donations. Your current Chief took great advantage of that from some pretty shady people. If you're interested, I'll start with an initial donation of a hundred million."

OK, I just stared at her.

"I am a Black single mom who lives with her parents and her two kids. My kids have different fathers. Neither are in the picture," I said. "I love your confidence, but no fucking way."

"You are not the first person to underestimate me," said Chris, with a smile. "Search for the current Chief's name."

She handed me the coolest freaking phone.

So I did.

It appears the Chief has been indicted on multiple felony counts.

I just looked at her.

"Don't do the crime if you can't do the time," said Chris. "He wasn't even very good at it. You'll need to recruit because a surprisingly large portion of the department will go down with him."

"How do you know I won't?" I said. Chris just smiled and waited.

"Because you already know," I said. "This is your work?"

"We are trying our best to clean up the US," said Chris. "It is the home for many of us including me. We can't move fast enough to do everywhere at once, but when someone we like crosses our paths, it is a reason for us to look. You crossed our path for a reason."

OK I just stared at her until she laughed. Just then Jessica walked up, holding a clipboard, and handed it to me with a pen.

"What's this?" I said.

"The paperwork to file to run," said Jessica. I looked at it and it was all filled out. Very neatly I might add. I looked at Chris. She just raised her eyebrows.

"No pressure," said Jessica. "Literally none. But if you crossed our paths, there is a reason."

"That's what Chris said," I said.

They both just smiled.

Give me a moment to stop vibrating.

"Sorry about that," said Jessica.

"Not sorry," I said. "Not sorry at all."

I looked at the forms.

"It needs to be notarized," I said. Jessica held up a big stamp.

"You're a notary in Oklahoma," I asked, and she smiled.

"Turns out there is no minimum age," said Jessica.

"And you got that today," I said.

"About four months ago," said Jessica. "I knew I would need it."

"You people are weird," I said.

"Yes," said both of them.

"Jinx!" shouted Jessica with considerable glee. She grabbed Chris' hand and dragged her over to an empty lounge.

I learned new things. Many new things.

A spatula? Really?

Oh, I'm trying that.

Jessica hopped up and handed me a spatula and pointed to the spot next to Chris.

"You can sign when you're done," said Jessica. "I'll wait. I can coach you, too."

"In the election?" I said and they both laughed.

"In the use of a spatula," said Chris. "Nobody better."

"Nobody," said Chris, about fourteen octaves lower.

It was transcendent.

And I signed.

Holy shit. I signed.

I am so freaking nervous

My name is Irene. I am running for Chief of Police for the city of Tulsa. To my utter surprise, polls show me with a substantial lead.

It makes no sense.

Chris said they were having a little reception at the Renaissance hotel to watch the election results come in. She told me to bring my kids, Lizabella, who is 11 and Kian, who is 9. She said there would be some kids to play with.

I have no idea what to expect. Probably just Chris and Jessica. They've been pretty involved. I walked up to the desk. The kids look amazing. Jessica took them shopping.

Yes, Jessica.

Lizabella is in a simple skirt and blouse and looks stunning. We fought a little bit because she's starting to develop and didn't have a bra on. She told me that Jessica insisted she didn't need one.

Then she put one on. As Lizabella put it, Jessica knew I wouldn't agree and bought her the damn bra.

Yes, the damn bra.

Kian is in a freaking suit. Dark gray, chalk stripe, white shirt with freaking cufflinks. A tie that matches the pocket square.

My kids are growing up.

We walked up to the desk.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Irene. There is a small reception for my candidacy. Can you point us in the right direction?"

"Uh, sure," said the young woman. "Small, huh. It is right at the end of that long hall. The Grand Ballroom."

"Why would it be in the Grand Ballroom?" I said.

"We were told to expect a reception at maximum capacity," she said. "We have overflow rooms ready, too."

Kian and Lizabella are laughing.

"How many are you prepared for?" asked Lizabella.

"3,500 in main room plus 5,000 more in the overflow room," she said.

I might have stared for a little too long.

Lizabella grabbed my hand.

"Come on, Mom," said Lizabella. "This is going to be awesome."

We walked down the hall and there was someone from the hotel diverting people to another room. We walked up and they recognized us.

"Welcome!" he said. "Right this way. I am so hopeful this is a winning celebration. Everyone I know voted for you."

OK, a little shocked. The dude couldn't be whiter.

What the fuck.

We walked in and the room is simply teeming with people. Lots and lots of people. I recognize many of them. Not from having met them. From the society and business page. These are the movers and shakers of Tulsa.

And I repeat. What the fuck.

Someone started clapping near me and damn near everyone turned to look.

Now everyone is clapping. Through the crowd came a tiny human.

Jessica.

"Come on," she said, taking my hand and pulling me in. We weaved through the crowd, and everyone was saying such encouraging words.

I will not say it again. I'll just think it.

She pulled me all the way to a small stage and up the stairs to a podium. The cheering got even louder.

"I have absolutely no idea what to say," I said, into the mic. "I thought I was coming to a party of about seven people and that included me and my two kids."

I am now waiting for applause to die down.

"All I can say is that if I win," I said. "Then I will be a leader for everyone. White, Black, or Purple, if you're a member of our community then I am here for you. Police departments have taken criticism recently. Some is over the top, but some is deserved. It is a tough job and great people do it and we want only the best in our department. Our motto is clear, and we will live it. We are here to serve. Thank you."

I guess more people came in, because the applause was a bit deafening.

I have no idea why.

"Because you deserve to win, Mom," said Lizabella. She was a little too close to the mic and it carried over the crowd.

They appear to have another round of applause in them.

"Come on, Mom," said Lizabella. She took my hand. She was holding Kian's hand, too. She pulled me off the stage and into the crowd. We circulated for about an hour and met the movers and shakers of Tulsa. Lizabella has a future in politics. She met everyone.

"Excuse me," said a voice over the system. Jessica.

"The results are starting to come in," said Jessica. The two large screens behind her came alive.

WTF.

"Early returns show the vote at 93% for Irene," said Jessica. "I should note that the precincts reporting are primarily the suburbs, so results should improve as the night goes on."

Improve? Fucking improve?

I'll cut this short a bit. I won. I freaking won. After the final vote tally, I had 96.5% of the vote.

Me.

I'll be damned.

Email me. Comments, ideas, and suggestions welcome

End of Chapter