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Doom (yes, based on the game) part 1 of ???
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
software. This story is intended for the non-commercial
enjoyment of its readers. You may not make more than a
single hard copy for yourself, and you may not under any
situation make any money off of it. (I'm not sure how the
rest of it goes, but this should get me out of legal
trouble, right????)
This story contains explicit sex and, if you are at all
familiar with the game, extremely graphic violence. Please
do not read any farther if this will offend you.
DOOM: EPISODE ONE, KNEE DEEP AND FALLING FAST
by MST Periwinkle
PART I. THE PLAYERS
I don't get it, Vinn thought to himself, crossing the
room to stand before the sink. I can field-strip a 40-watt
phase plasma rifle with shells going off all around me and
bugs coming down hard, but I can't even think about Shelly
without going to pieces. Sighing at the disjuncture between
his confidence levels in and out of the field, he ran cold
water into the stainless steel sink. The water felt good
swirling between his hands, even better when splashed on his
face. His crystal blue eyes shone slightly in the dim light
of the barracks, reflecting off the chrome that bordered the
mirror. Augmentation.
This is not a new conversation with himself.
How many times has she come on to him? A dozen since
her assignment to their S/R squad two months ago?
He still remembered when she walked into the room that
first day. Brilliant red hair that was cut way past
regulation. And he was about to chew her out, damn rookie,
just up from pulling grunt work on a Venus floating colony,
but that hair stopped him. He remembered stories from
junior high about Greeks and Romans and their crazy ideas
about Gods and monsters. He'd seen shit a lot worse than
any medusa, but that hair seemed to dance. Swirl. Swim
before his eyes. It wasn't really red, gaudy or dyed. It
was a deep maroon shade that reminded him of Earthside
autumns--falling leaves and Alabama football.
"Lieutenant Michelle Bower, reporting as ordered, sir."
"Very well," he took her offerred papers, glanced at
them, "Your partner's Lisa Rueburg. You'll find her in the
gym. Find it, find her, and have her show you to your
quarters. I'll process your forms."
"Sir."
"We're shipping out early tomorrow. We were waiting on
you."
"Trouble with the Demos colony? I've always wanted to
go to Mars."
A smile under auburn skies. A twinkle in her eye?
Oh, we'll have to stop this.
But, her breasts filled out the uniform nicely. Vinn
always did like women in the dress khakis. And her face had
this amazingly attractive tilt, an almost assuredly
unconscious slanting when she asked a question that was
melting Vinn's heart. But, they don't just promote anyone,
and 150 plus confirmed kills on 18 rescue missions deserves
a little bit of respect, right?
"Lietenant," suddenly very cold. Ice. Did his eyes
flare? "You have orders. You will follow them. Your
shuttle touched down at port six hours ago. Six hours.
There is no excuse for your tardiness or you lax attitude.
I don't know what kind of slack-assed outfit you were
involved with on the Venus floaters, but while you are here
you will follow regulations, you will follow orders, or you
will be out. Am I clear?"
"Sir, yes sir."
God, I'm an idiot, thought Vinn. I haven't heard
dialogue that corny since basic.
She knew it, too.
"Is that all, sir."
Not tension, but something similar filled the space
between them. As if she was scolding an old boyfriend who
went a little too far one night when drunk. A playful
attitude that let him know she was in control here. He
didn't much care for it.
"Yes. Dismissed."
He watched her leave. Not running, but moving quickly,
surely. She was shorter than his six-two frame by about a
foot, and her well muscled legs slid nicely up into a tight
ass.
"Lietenant. Cut your hair by 0630."
* * * * *
Two months ago they had left the blue-green ball where
most humans lived and died. For two months the four of them
had drilled, learning each other's strengths and weaknesses,
their augmented abilities, their assigned roles in the
Search and Rescue mission that was to follow.
And every day, that mysterious red orb seemed to drift
closer, grow larger.
I wanted to be a marine, Vinn thought, shutting off the
faucet and plopping onto his bunk. Action awaits!
Spaceward Ho! Semper Fi and all that shit. And I am, lets
face it, a tough son of a bitch. I've got a body just short
of, what's that kids name, Herculet, or Heraclit or
something? Feel these biceps, baby!
He flexed first one arm, then the other, running his
hands up and down his strong frame. Even in the dim light,
his eyes picked up every detail. Blue light filled in where
normal people saw shadow. His gift from Uncle Sam. Shit,
some only wanted transfer to S/R to get stuff like this.
He massaged his arms, rubbing first one shoulder, then
the next. Tight. Maybe a little too tight, but most of
that was tension about tomorrow's drop. He continued
massaging his muscles. Umm, a slight groan escaped his
lips.
He arched his back, stetching the thirty-one year old
vertebrae. Heard one pop.
His hands moved down his sides, gently touching the
skin covering his ribs. Without even thinking about what he
was doing, Vinn suddenly found himself rubbing a nipple with
one hand while touching his rock-solid abdomem with the
other.
What the hell, Chris is out with Lisa. Shouldn't be in
for another hour. Wondering if he should do anything about
the obvious attraction between his two youngest squad
members, his hand slipped beneath his white boxers.
He pulled at his dick, playing with it, sliding it back
and forth over his taut stomach. Pushing down firmly, he
slid the sensitive skin of its head in rythmic patterns
across the muscles of his abdomem, his thighs. His other
hand continued to carress his nipple, occasionally he would
touch his ribs, his shoulders.
Very soon, he was hard. He realized that he had not
had an orgasm in some time. He circled his shaft in one
hand, pulling the skin down and away from his head, and
gently stroked the exposed tip with his other hand.
Small wonder that crimson thoughts came to his mind.
He wondered why he couldn't talk to her as a person but only
as a superior. He wondered about the shade of her pubic
hair. He wanted to find out. He wanted her to walk into
the room, to catch him. Hell, she could probably hear him
right now anyway, the low, controlled groans, the occasional
grunts. Her "gift."
He began stroking harder now, in earnest. His climax
was building, but still distant. He knew he could maintain
this stage of arousal forever, and he knew that he could
drive women wild in bed, continuously fucking, stroking for
what seemed like hours, driving both partners crazy with
lust.
He wanted to slide his dick into her. To be on top of
her. Oh yes. To feel her solid body beneath him. The
breasts that screamed to burst out of a sweaty gray t-shirt
in the gym were exposed beneath him. He could reach his
mouth forward and lick and suck and bite her nipples, large,
very light shade of precious, sweet pink. Oh God. The
tightness and pain as he first begins to enter her. Faster
now, his hand a blur on his cock. The dark, sliding forever
of the first long thrust. How she must sigh and groan as
she feels him fill her. He pumps furiously as his free hand
reaches to carress his ass, a finger starting to slide
towards his anus, seemingly of its own accord, but it'd
better hurry, because she is looking up at Vinn with her own
amazing blue eyes, and its all there, right there, how good
she feels, how much she trusts him, wants him, needs him,
and then her eyes go cloudy, unfocused as orgasm approaches,
builds, feels like a slow moving train, feels like forever,
and NOW, and again, and again his cum shoots from his shaft.
The smell of his body hits him as does the sticky sperm,
coating his chest and his body.
He moaned aloud, feeling already the fresh juice begin
to cool. He rolled around on the bed, climbing under the
blanket and sheet. Wishing he had someone to hold.
* * * * *
"Chris, stop, no, really, what's going on here?"
Chris summarized the situation. Lisa was on her hands
and knees before him, facing away. Her tight little ass was
all up in the air, swaying back and forth. Below, her pussy
lips were categorically opposing what her mouth was saying.
They were full, pouting, moist, quite ready.
He looked down at his erection, thin, he admitted to
himself, but long enough to cause some pain in an ex-
girlfriend he really hadn't liked. Again, quite ready.
"Well, Lise," he pronounced it in a drooling, kinda
sexy way that he knew she dug, it sounded like *lease*, "it
appears to be doggy-style."
"Dammit, Chris," rolling over and pulling him down on
top of her, "if I wanted to get turned on by your stupid
third grade bullshit, I'd let you in on it." She grabbed
him by his upper arms and held on tightly. Looked up at him
with eyes that were hungry, but Chris wasn't exactly sure
what for.
"Chris, we've been doing this for awhile. How long."
Chris recognized instantly where this was going.
Fortunately, he has had some experience getting out of spots
exactly like this one.
"Well, you sucked my dick for about half an hour and
then we had sex twice. About an hour and a half."
"Bastard, I mean how long have we been together?"
Shit. "Shit, I mean, we've known each other for five
years or so, right?"
"Yes, but I mean how long have we been fucking?"
"Your point, Lisa." Accent on the *a*. Sometimes the
best defense is a good offense.
"Oh, I don't know. Nothing I guess." She turned her
head, closing her eyes. Then giggled, rolling over onto her
back again. "I believe this is what you had in mind."
It ceratinly was.
But not much escapes Chris' memory. A simple glance,
upon reflection, will hang in his mind like a portrait in a
museum, allowing him to savor old memories anew or quickly
scim documents and maps for later recall. Call it a gift.
And what keeps Chris' attention tonight, back in his
own bunk in the room he shares with Vinn, is Lisa. The tear
in her green eye that spilled and rolled down her cheek as
she closed her eyes and rolled over to play.
Chris is surprised, to say the least, when a similar
tear wells up in his own eyes.
* * * * *
And what about Michelle? Shelly's dreams were her own,
although Commander Robert Vinn would have found them
enticing indeed.
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