"The Institute?" Quartercut said, working the words slowly. "This is the mythical group that engineered the Commonwealth Provisional Government massacre, correct?"

 

Despite the support the power suit gave me, I could still feel my shoulders weighing heavily on me with fatigue. Our escape from the fishery in the wee hours of the morning had left me with precious little energy, but I felt the news of our discovery couldn't wait. 

 

"Far from mythical," I corrected. "I suppose I should have brought them up when we were talking yesterday, but they aren't as overt a player as the other ones we covered." I paused for a second, then shook my head, "I'm sorry, I'm a little run down. My point is that the Institute is very real and, more to the point, they may be at the root of some of your problems."

 

"Alright," she said, sitting up on the bed and focusing her attention on me, "you've got my attention. Tell me more."

 

Piper had joined me, and together we gave Quartercut a brief overview of the Institute's misdeeds in the Commonwealth - the kidnappings, replacing people with Synths, Kellogg's mercenary group, and of course how they'd kidnapped my son.

 

 

"When we visited the fishery," Piper explained, "we found evidence that strongly suggested the priests were behind the mirelurk attack. But the evidence was staged - the lower levels of the fishery were crawling with Synths."

 

"Which tells me that it was actually the Institute who disturbed the mirelurk nesting grounds," I finished.

 

Quartercut seemed genuinely alarmed by that last part. "Did they follow you? Are they coming to attack Salem?"

 

I shook my head, starting to say, "at first. But they stopped at..." I had to take a long blink to clear my head before finishing, "they stopped at the outer defenses to the city. If they're going to try something, it won't be until they've gathered more strength."

 

The Queen of Salem seemed lost in thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Then you were doubly right to turn those turrets back on, no matter how much it displeased me at the time. I hope they've just given up, but we need to prepare to the possibility that we'll have trouble."

 

Heather added, "you should... you have to, really. Your situation is too much like University Point, and the Synths wiped us out with a surprise attack. Don't pretend that they won't be back."

 

I felt myself leaning a little and put one hand on Quartercut's bedframe to steady myself. She noticed, and pointed me towards the couch in her small living area. "Sit down, Charley. You're obviously exhausted."

 

I settled into the comfortable if worn out couch, only to find Quartercut reaching for the manual release on my air filter. 

 

"Hey--" I started to protest, before I momentarily lost my voice while she drew the tubes out of my throat and then released the helmet seals. Still coughing from the unexpected move, I hoarsely continued, "hey, tell me next time when you're..."

 

Quartercut silenced me by laying her hand on my breast. "I'm sure you'll rest better breathing fresh air. But tell me, can you feel through this suit? Can you feel my touch?"

 

 

It took me a second to process what she was saying, and as I fought to answer her she slid up onto my lap, meeting my eyes and all but challenging me to stop her. 

 

"Yes," I said, "it's not exactly the same but the suit transmits what... ever..."

 

"Whatever touches you?" Quartercut pressed. She slid closer, bringing her hips right against me and leaning in until her breasts pushed up against my own. Still she refused to break her eye contact, staring deep on my eyes. In a moment of clarity, I realized that I was unconsciously wrapping my arms around her in such a way that my hands were sliding up under her shorts.

 

"How much can you feel?" she pressed, "can you feel my heart beating? Can your hands feel my body tightening against you?"

 

 

Before Quartercut could push herself on me any further, I heard Piper clear her throat. "Excuse me, but that's my wife you're molesting," she said, a tinge of irritation in her voice.

 

Quartercut pulled back, and I thought I detected a little blush on her face, but she quickly regained her confidence. 

 

"Indeed, it is your wife that I'm molesting," she agreed. "I was rude to not ask your permission first... will you forgive me? Or, perhaps, would you like to join me?"

 

I let my eyes close at the momentary respite from the stimulation, and I heard Piper laugh, saying, "well, I've never fucked a Queen before. But if you two are going to fool around, we need to get Charley out of her suit first."

 

I let them undress me passively - somehow I'd expected Piper to be a little more possessive, but I was so worn out that I just went with the flow. 

 

As the two of them led me over to the bed, I heard Quartercut ask Heather, "what about you? Are you joining us as well?"

 

She shook her head, "no, I think I'll just, um, keep watch."

 

I'm not sure what those two expected from me in my state, but after some half-hearted snuggling, Piper - who was apparently much less tired than I - tightened her trusty strap-on around her waist and shifted to a more commanding position. With Quartercut sandwiched between the two of us, Piper penetrated the Queen while I... mostly laid there and enjoyed the warmth of her skin against mine. 

 

 

At some point the two of them shifted positions and I found myself semi-ejected off the bed. Crawling back onto the mattress, I found my wife now ensconced between Quartercut's legs, held tight between the Queen's thighs as she squirmed. I leaned over, meaning to give Quartercut just a brief kiss before sliding in next to her, but she reached around and held me fast, extending the kiss and letting her hot tongue freely explore my mouth.

 

 

When we finally separated, she said, smiling, "you have a nice mouth. I should have taken more advantage of it yesterday." Letting out a long sigh, she shifted just enough to let me lie next to her but not so much that Piper could escape from between her legs.

 

This kept up for another ten or fifteen minutes before, finally spent, Quartercut relaxed and let Piper wriggle free.

 

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to stay in Salem for a while, Charley?" she asked, "I haven't met someone like you in a long time, and I'd like to spend some time together."

 

I tried to come up with an answer for her, but it turned out that falling asleep in her arms was much easier than finding a way to gently deny her request.

 

Still, when the afternoon sun finally warmed us enough to rise, I had to do just that.

 

"I'm sorry," I explained, "but we've already stayed later than we should have. I really do need to go to Beverly, and then... well, then I need to get back to finding my son. I'm sure this isn't the last time we'll meet though... and you'd be welcome in Concord any time."

 

Quartercut looked disappointed, but not surprised. She still did manage to draw out our visit a little longer, insisting on serving us lunch and then getting into a lengthy discussion with Heather about the defenses at University Point and their weaknesses - and how Salem could to better - but ultimately we had to depart.

 

As we crossed through the remains of Salem's marketplace, Quartercut waved at the empty stalls.

 

"We're lonely up here, Charley. I'm lonely. Find a way to send your traders, it's time for Salem to be part of the Commonwealth again."

 

 

I promised to do just that, and then parted with the Queen of Salem after a brief hug.

 

"Be safe," I said, "you've earned it."

 

The journey north of Salem was uneventful; we steered well clear of the fishery, but I was still concerned that we'd run into mirelurks - or worse - ranging this far north. While we did have a run-in with a group of feral ghouls, nothing really threatening ever confronted us. The worst part of the trip was actually a passing rad storm that forced us to waste precious hours sheltering in an abandoned building. I was fairly safe inside my power suit, but Piper and Heather both needed to be careful about radiation, and while we waited for the storm to break I thought about options to offer them better protection. That wouldn't be the last time this crossed my mind, either, but that's a whole other story.

 

I was impressed with the farmstead on Brackenbury Beach when it finally came into view. The buildings were well maintained, with what damage there was patched up with salvaged materials. I suspected even then that the settlers here didn't have access to a Workshop, something I confirmed later, and their diligent upkeep and repairs spoke to a resourceful bunch. I did note the remains of the 127 overpass in the distance, and wondered if that put them at risk of being observed by raiders, but so far at least the residents had kept their place livable. 

 

 

If I'd been concerned about finding Nick, I put those fears to rest quickly. Before we even reached the main house, I found Nick sleuthing around a small shed right at the perimeter of the settlement. After an enthusiastic round of greetings from the three of us, Nick asked the obvious question.

 

"Charley, what are you doing out here?"

 

I felt a smile creep over my face at the sound of his voice. It had been much too long since I'd last talked to Nick, and it felt good to see him again.

 

"Isn't it enough that I just wanted to check up on you?"

 

 

"Yeah, that's great an all - and don't get me wrong, I appreciate it. But I didn't get to be the longest serving detective in the Commonwealth by missing obvious clues. Something's up, isn't it? A lead on your kid?"

 

I nodded in agreement. "Was it that obvious?" I didn't pause for him to answer. "Of course it was. Jack Cabot has agreed to introduce me to the Railroad in exchange helping him solve a missing person problem he has."

 

"Cabot, huh?" Nick murmured, "that's a serious player. And how does the Railroad fit into all this?"

 

I gave Nick a brief summary of what we'd learned about Brian Virgil and our hope that he could provide us with a way to infiltrate the Institute and rescue Shaun. 

 

"Sounds like we're both chasing the same bone, going different ways," he said.

 

 

"So you've got a lead on Shaun too?" I pressed.

 

"More on the whole 'cracking the Institute' part. But I've got a missing persons case too, and maybe a lead on where Kellogg hung us out to dry. Speaking of which, do you have that doo-dad you pulled out of his skull?"

 

I nodded. "Do you need it?"

 

"I might. But for now, follow me, I want to introduce you to the client, then I'll fill you in on the rest."

 

Nick led me down to the main house, where we found a man and woman waiting for us in the dining room.

 

"Kenji," Nick said, "why don't you tell my partner what you told me."

 

"Oh," the man said. If I wanted to describe him in a word it would be 'frightened.' Maybe a little angry, too, but mostly frightened. "Good, you brought in a partner. Good. Does that mean you found something? You've got a lead to follow?"

 

 

"We're here to help," I said, "tell me what happened."

 

That brought back a little bit of the anger, though it was still tinged with fear and concern.

 

"It's all thanks to this damn radio," he said, waving at an orange CB set that'd set up on the table. "I told Nick everything already."

 

"It's OK, Kenji," Nick drawled, "I want my partner to hear it fresh from the source. No sense on her getting this second hand since you're right here."

 

The woman - the man's wife, I presumed, spoke next, "our daughter Kasumi likes to fix things. This radio was her latest project."

 

"Until she made contact with the kidnapper, who lured her away," Kenji finished.

 

 

An interesting biplay followed that made the scenario a little less clear-cut than Kenji would let on. Their daughter, Kasumi, had recently turned 19 and had been testing boundaries in the settlement. Her mother, Rei, the woman we were speaking with, was more open to the idea that Kasumi had left seeing to forge her own life, but Kenji was certain foul play was involved. Kasumi had taken one of the settlement's boats, but beyond that her parents were at a loss. They'd turned to Nick for help and since then he'd been gathering evidence around the settlement, trying to piece together what Kasumi had been doing prior to her departure.

 

"Don't worry, Kenji," Nick reassured him as the conversation wound down, "we'll find Kasumi. Now I need to compare notes with my partner. Come on, Charley, let's take a walk and I'll go over the evidence I've found so far."

 

It seemed a little odd that Nick wasn't just discussing it in front of his clients, but I followed his lead, letting him show me out of the house and towards a large warehouse on the waterfront.

 

"The girl left recordings all over the house. Left her diary out on her bedstand too. Most of it was all about her handyman projects and about her recurring nightmares, but there's one thing she hid out here, locked up in a safe. Can you guess what?"

 

I shrugged, "something tells me it's the answer to where she went. But... it can't be that simple?"

 

Rather than answer me directly, Nick handed me a holotape, which I plugged into my Pip-Boy.

 

"Project Log: um, myself. I never really thought about who, or what, I am. God... where do I start? The radio. I was right about the radio. There's a strong signal to the north. There's a group of people out there. They say they're all Synths. Synthetic people, made by the Institute. They're trying to build a place for their kind. Where they can be accepted... and live alongside human beings. It sounds wonderful but... then they started asking questions. Questions about me, and... well, then more questions came up. Questions I don't have answers to."

 

"I mean... I've always felt... off. Like I'm not really supposed to be here. There's things in my childhood I can't remember. And the dreams. That white room over and over again. I... I'm going to go. To the Synths. To Dima. He's going to help me find out the truth about myself. He told me to sail north, to a town called Far Harbor. Then I can make my way to them on foot."

 

"So... the daughter thinks she's a Synth?" Piper said, "and now she's taken off to... where? Far Harbor?"

 

"Charley knows it as Bar Harbor," Nick interjected, "About two hundred miles northeast of here by water. At least she didn't try to go there by land, right up through the war zone in New Hampshire."

 

"OK," I said, "I see the Institute connection, but... if they replaced these poor peoples' kid with a Synth, there's no reason to think she'd know how to get back in, right? How does this connect with us?"

 

"The colony of Synths is the part that got my attention. Or rather, that name. Dima. I know him. He's... well, he's my brother. It's complicated."

 

Piper perked up at that. "I didn't know you had a brother," she said.

 

"I don't really talk about him. When we were... younger, some things happened that I'm not too proud of now. But if Dima's still alive? Well, I bet he can crack that implant in a hot second."

 

 

"Sounds like you're not available to help out with Cabot's case, are you?"

 

Nick shook his head decisively, "sorry, kid. Even before I found out about the Dima connection, I promised Kenji I'd find his kid. I can't just drop that case. Honestly, I was kind of hoping you'd drop the Cabot thing and come with me. It sounds like beyond the implant, Dima might just the kind of ally you need for going after the Institute."

 

"Fuck," I muttered, "you're right. But I also don't want to just stiff Cabot. He doesn't seem like the kind of man I want as an enemy."

 

The four of us - Piper, Nick, Heather, and me - talked about our options as the sun descended towards the horizon. Nick was set on going to Far Harbor - I couldn't talk him out of it and honestly I didn't really want to. So we all agreed that we'd have to recruit Holly Ainsleigh to be the drive the investigation at the asylum. We also agreed that Nick shouldn't go to Far Harbor alone. In the end we concluded, uncomfortably, that either me or Piper would accompany Nick and the other one would work with Holly on the Cabot case. Heather, since she was technically my employee, would go wherever I went. 

 

I could see advantages and disadvantages to both approaches, but in the end I decided to entrust the Lynne Woods mission to Holly while Nick and I would go to Far Harbor. The popular retelling of the story is that Kasumi Nakano's plight resonated with me deeply and I dropped everything to make sure she could get home safe. I wish I could say that was true, but the reality was a little more pragmatic. From the small amount Nick had shared with me about his brother, I felt that Dima was just as likely to know about a way to break into the Institute as the runaway scientist, Virgil. The way I reasoned it, calling on Dima offered the same potential as finding Virgil, but with fewer steps.

 

Heather, for her part, seemed excited about the chance to venture as far north as Maine, but Piper had reservations.

 

"It's not that I don't trust Holly," she said. "I'm more worried that you're totally changing goals. I don't think it's a good idea to give up on finding Virgil just because there might be an alternative."

 

"I'm not giving up on him, I promise," I told her. "We're going to keep pushing on both leads. But you heard Deegan - Cabot isn't expecting me to do this for him personally. If Holly leads up the investigation - hell, if you lead it up and pull on our resources - that isn't going to hurt our chances of getting introduced to the Railroad. On the other hand, if we need to bargain with Dima I can speak for Concord much more authoritatively than you. No offense."

 

While Heather didn't seem deterred in her interest at all, she grumbled a little at the direction our conversation was going. "Neither option is really great. It either 'trust an Institute scientist' or 'trust a runaway Synth.' I feel like neither is especially trustworthy, present company excepted of course, Nick."

 

Nick waved away the comment, "don't worry about it, kid. I didn't trust Dima when I first met him either." The detective paused for a moment, then continued, "though I probably should have. Charley's right, though. Dima's no slouch in the brains department, and he'll appreciate that he can hold Charley to promises in a way he can't many other folks. I think Charley's making the right call."

 

Piper still seemed unconvinced, but she relented. "Fine, I'm obviously outnumbered here," she said. "So what do we do next?" 

 

 

Nick answered, "well, first off we need a way to follow her. She stole one boat, but the settlement has some more. I'll talk to Kenji and see if he'll loan us one. It sounds like you need to get Ainsleigh up to speed, though I suppose you could go back to Concord on your own. But there's another problem too."

 

"Oh?" I asked.

 

"So this is way before Piper's time, but until about fifty years ago - right around the time of the Broken Mask, actually - we used to get visitors from Far Harbor every now and then. Back then, there was a settlement at the Tea Party Museum that maintained a secure dock, and ships from up and down the coast would sail in to do business. Not a bad operation, actually, but after Goodneighbor started to get more influence it went into decline. I won't say the Bunker Hill Cartel intentionally shut them down, but they didn't help. Anyway, I'm dancing around the point. Back then the folks at Far Harbor were having a lot of trouble with radiation. Big parts of the island just weren't safe to travel through... and it was slowly getting worse. Now? Fifty years later? Well, I'd pack some radiation gear if I were you."

 

"The power suit should keep me safe," I said.

 

"Maybe," Nick conceded, "but you can't wear that thing 24/7. I know you try, but sooner or later you'll need to take it off. And Heather?" he gestured at my guide, "you don't exactly have a spare."

 

"Hmm, that's a fair point," I agreed. "I suppose we could ask Cain if she'd let us borrow hers, but I wouldn't count on it. I think the smarter thing is to make her a radiation suit like Piper's."

 

"You could just borrow mine," my wife offered.

 

"The thought had crossed my mind, but I'm worried about damaging it if we try to tailor it for Heather. I think it's better to make one from scratch. Plus, you might need yours if you run into issues at Lynne Woods."

 

"Sounds like we need to go back to Concord before we start on either investigation," Nick offered. "How about this? You all settle down and get some rest, while I tell Kenji about our plans. We can leave in the morning to start on our preparations. Maybe aim for a Saturday or Sunday departure on our end."

 

 

Kenji and his wife were kind enough to let us stay the night at their settlement, and we set off on a rainy morning, largely retracting the steps we'd taken over the last few days. While we tried to sleep the night before, I'd heard some of Nick's conversation with Kenji, and it didn't sound like the Nakano family was thrilled that we weren't leaving immediately. On the other hand, he was happy to loan us a boat with an inertial navigation system, along with the charts we'd need to make it to Mount Dessert Island, where Far Harbor was situated. That commitment assuaged some of the nagging concerns I'd have about this plan, and it reinforced my decision that this was the right way to use my talents. 

 

To save time, we bypassed Salem, following Route 1 south until just before we entered Saugus. Then we swung west, passing by the Slog and stopping over for a quick rest at Greentop Nursery. In my absence, Winter had been keeping busy - she'd managed to almost completely repair the Paisleys' house, albeit by gutting the interior and rebuilding it with a simpler open-concept design. On top of that, Amos excitedly told me that a supply caravan from Concord had arrived the day before. Apparently in my absence, the Minutemen had cleared a route north of Lake Quannapowitt along Route 129 that was safe enough to send supplies over. The official purpose was to supply the Slog, but Preston had made sure it stopped at the Nursery. Beyond being relieved to have better access to supplies (a fact that Winter was also happy about), he told me he was excited about the prospect of serving as a link between Concord and County Crossing... and from there maybe even Bunker Hill.

 

 

I was actually a little unsure how I felt about that. Trade with Bunker Hill had a lot of potential, and it could serve as a solid link between Concord and Diamond City. On the other hand, I didn't harbor any illusions that County Crossing was going to somehow stay out of the Brotherhood of Steel's influence, and I wasn't sure how I felt about establishing a formal trade route to their territory. Setting up that sort of relationship was easy, and probably beneficial. But if tensions increased and I wanted to cut it off? That's the kind of unfriendly act that could have long term consequences. So I found myself thinking it was better to keep ties a bit distant, if for no other reason than to avoid grudges if we couldn't support a relation like that in the future. For the moment, I kept my misgivings to myself, but I knew I'd have to revisit them in the future, to establish a more concrete policy position.

 

Our original plan had been to continue on to County Crossing, then pass through Cambridge before entering Concord's inner territory at the Diner. However, with the word that Route 129 was open, we decided to take the more direct route. Winter helped me out of my power suit and laid it out inside the Paiselys' house, going over it and doing little bits of maintenance here and there. Meanwhile, we talked about fabricating a radiation suit for Heather.

 

"Can you stick around through the day and head out to Concord in the morning?" she asked. "With all the supplies that Minutemen caravan dropped off, we could do it here, and this way I can make sure we get all the measurements right."

 

 

I looked over to Nick, and he shrugged. "If 129 is really open, that ought to cut out a lot of the travel time we expected. I don't have a problem with it."

 

"Perfect," Winter said, smiling, before poking a finger at Nick. "And speaking in suits, Valentine, aren't you overdressed?

 

Nick gave a warding shake of his head. "Oh no, I'm too old for that natural living business. And, you know, I'm not human."

 

"Come on," I teased, "it's nothing we haven't seen before. And besides, if you don't get with the program now, the Cabinet's going to make you when we get to Concord anyway."

 

The detective signed, giving his eyes a good roll as he considered me. But, after just a brief pause, he started to loosen his tie. "Alright, you asked for it. No complaining if it scares the kids."

 

I grimaced at that, "won't be any kids to scare as long as the Firsters get their way."

 

I wanted to complain further on the subject of Charley First, but before I could continue Nick dropped his trousers and Winter let out a gasp.

 

"Nick," she said, her voice suddenly concerned, "Nick, why didn't you tell me? I could have fixed you up."

 

Nick Valentine was a mess. With his detective getup removed, I could see that large portions of his exoskeleton were gone, exposing his internal framework. His right arm was stripped bare, as was a large section of his left torso and the whole area around his hips.

 

 

Valentine grumbled in response. "I hope you weren't expecting me to boast about literally getting my ass blasted off. Maybe you haven't noticed, but being a detective is a rough line of work."

 

Winter pointedly looked down between his legs, adding, "it's not just your ass I was talking about. Your, ah, equipment is gone."

 

"See, this is why I didn't want to do this whole 'you show me yours and I'll show you mine' game. It's embarrassing enough knowing my damn body's falling apart when I've got clothes to cover it up, but this is just humiliating."

 

"I'm serious, Nick, I'm sure the Workshop can fabricate new parts for you. I just need some time with you - if I can get your remaining panels off, I know I can make new ones."

 

"Uh, uh, I've lost enough parts already. Sorry, kid, I know you mean well but I'll keep my current skin, thank you."

 

"Come on, Nick," I said, "this is a quality of life issue. Not just for you, either. If I'm reading the signs right, it's going to be a quality of life issue for Ellie, too." Then an idea came to me and I added. "How about this, once we get back from Far Harbor, you take a few vacation days and we'll treat you to a new skin. Your reward for helping Kenji."

 

"That's really kind, Charley, but I need to think about it. Beat up as it is, I've had this skin for a long time. I'm not sure I feel about trading it in for the new model."

 

 

I let it drop at that point; I can tell when I've pushed someone as far as I should, and if I wasn't there with Nick yet, I'd been getting awfully close. The rain was mostly cleared up outside, and I decided to take a walk around the settlement, see how things were going. All told, things seemed to be looking up. The Paisleys' greenhouse still needed a lot of work - it needed a new roof just as much as their house, and I'd learned the hard way that glass structures of the sort were always challenging to fabricate, frequently requiring re-work. The Rangers had built a sturdy barracks and a tall guard tower, and they'd put in a second outpost on the northeast side of the nursery. I could see there was maybe an opportunity for more protection on the west side, but things looked like they were in much better condition than the first time I visited the farm.

 

 

With my walkabout completed, I made my way back to the farmhouse. Approaching, I heard a little yelp, quickly followed by Heather speaking.

 

"Ah, Winter, you got me caught in the zipper!"

 

"Alright," Winter said, "hold tight, let me just wiggle it down a little."

 

"Owww, that pinches!"

 

Poking my head into the house, I could see that Winter had mostly encased Heather in one of the transparent Tecasint suits. On the other hand, judging by the sour look on Heather's face, something seemed to have gone wrong. 

 

 

"It's still stuck!" she complained some more. 

 

"Alright, alright," Winter answered, "let's get you out of the suit."

 

A few minutes (and a lot of complaining) later, Heather had shucked off the radiation gear and Winter appraised her carefully.

 

"So the good news," Winter explained, "is that the suit fits you like a glove. You shouldn't have any issues with chafing or slippage. The bad news is that your fluffy bush keeps getting stuck in the zipper. So I think you need to spend some quality time with a razor before we try again."

 

Heather grimaced, "I don't know. I like the way I look just fine."

 

"The alternative is you getting pinched every time you zip up the suit," Winter pointed out. "Come on, you're a big girl, you can handle it."

 

I decided to butt in at that point, asking, "problem here?"

 

"Yes," they both answered me. They tried to explain further, talking over each other, until Winter stopped and let Heather talk. "Winter wants to shave my pussy."

 

I smirked at that. "I thought you said there was a problem."

 

My guide pouted. "You're sexually harassing me again," to which I shrugged and pointed out, "I thought you decided you liked it when we sexually harassed you."

 

Winter coughed out a little laugh while Heather screwed up her face in her best imitation of annoyance. After a moment though, she let out a long sigh and said, "fine, but I think I need a distraction. How about you finish reading me that comic while Winter... does it."

 

My wife crooked an eyebrow at me. "Comic?"

 

That seemed to break Heather out of her funk, and with newfound enthusiasm she said, "we found the most fucked up comic book in Salem. Read 'combat zone' type stuff."

 

Winter looked over her shoulder at me, "and you didn't save this to share with me?"

 

I shrugged, "sorry, her and Piper were pretty insistent in diving into it. Speaking in which," I turned back to address Heather, "if you want to get the rest of that story, you better go find Piper. She's isn't going to want to miss out."

 

While Heather went to find my other wife, I took a moment to flip through the comic with Winter and get her up to speed. As the relationship between Robin, her sister, and her brother-in-law spiraled further and further towards the blood-stained basement of Club-X, Winter seemed to alternate between amused curiosity and head-shaking puzzlement. "Stupid, stupid girl," she said as it got to the part where Robin stripped down at the club, "he's got you now."

 

When Heather returned with Piper in tow, I sat down on the bed alongside Heather, helping her draw her legs apart so Winter could easily access her. Piper sat down on the other side of me, and I started reading the story to them again, making sure they could both see the pictures.

 

"Ouch, that buzzsaw is a new addition!" I narrated as we picked up in the club's basement.

 

Robin's misadventures continued as she participated in the lottery. While her number didn't come up, her sister wasn't so lucky, and Robin is forced to watch as the club patrons roast her sister alive. As I guided Heather and Piper through the drama, Winter took her time very carefully making our guide completely smooth. At length, I found myself reaching a relevant part of the story, and I snuggled up a bit against Heather as I kept reading.

 

"Come on Robin, I want to have your cunt shaved," I read, mimicking a masculine voice.

 

"Yes, Jim."

 

"Robin, this is Eddie. You just follow his instructions, OK!"

 

"Ummm, this isn't so bad. It feels nice... what happens next?"

 

"Um, well you're going to entertain our guard service tonight. We always put a girl out for the gang of bikers who guard the place!"

 

 

Heather literally quivered as I read this part and I paused for a moment. Whispering to her, I said, "what do you think? Do you want to entertain the Rangers? I bet they'd appreciate it - we made them give up on raiding after all."

 

I drew Heather's attention to the opposite page, pointing at the first pane where Robin was forced to squat low while hugging a steel pole.

 

"I bet if you posed like that, you wouldn't even have to say anything. They'd know exactly what you wanted. They might even give you some slaps, just like in the comic, to warm up your cheeks before they entered you."

 

 

Heather bit her lip as she followed the action on the panes, but then she shook her head. "No, I don't think I'm brave enough for that."

 

"Hmm," I said, pausing, "I don't know, Piper. Do you think Heather deserves to see the rest of the comic? She seems to be chickening out."

 

Piper came to her rescue, saying, "She is kind of chickening out, but I think it's alright if she plays with us a little instead of with the Rangers. Come on, Heather, let me see that smooth body of yours."

 

Heather turned, posing her her hands behind her head, and I couldn't resist getting a feel of her hips and her bust. Heather had a pleasant, athletic physique, with just enough springiness to feel tight but not hard under my hands. As I continued my examination of her body, she turned to me, smiling.

 

"I thought you were going to read me the rest of the story," she said.

 

 

I gave her a little kiss on her cheek before I pinched her nipple. "How about we play for a little while, then you can finish the story."

 

"OK," she mouthed, and I continued my groping while Piper fastened a strap-on into place. 

 

Properly equipped, my wife smiled at Heather, instructing her, "you better lean forward and get my cock nice and slippery. We're both going to be inside you by the time we're done."

 

"What about me?" Winter asked, offering me another one of our strap-ons.

 

I smiled apologetically, "I don't think there's any more room on the bed. Can I offer you a rain check?"

 

Winter shrugged, "you're lucky I'm a forgiving spouse."

 

While I was having this discussion (and getting my own phallus secured), Heather was giving enthusiastic head to Piper's rubber appendage. As Heather's head sunk further down and her rear end rose up into the air, I took the opportunity to start rubbing my toy between her legs. An adorable shiver ran along Heather's back every time the strap-on slipped past the hood of her clit, and after teasing her a few more times I tested her pussy. As I suspected, our guide was thoroughly moistened at this point, and the fat chode slipped into Heather's depths, eliciting a little gasp from her.

 

 

"How's the water?" Piper asked as I picked up the pace, slapping my hips against Heather's ass as I pushed the dildo deeper inside her. Not too much longer and I could feel the resistance as I bumped up against her cervix. That elicited a little gasp from Heather as she arched her back.

 

"The water's fine," I said. Heather here has a delightfully firm and warm rump.

 

"Hey," Heather said, panting a little, "go easier. That hurt a little."

 

I was tempted to ram the cock home even harder, but I banished the thought and instead slowed down to glide in and out, feeling out a more comfortable depth and rhythm. 

 

"Mmm," Heather said, "that's better."

 

 

We kind of tumbled out of bed at that point, with Piper lifting Heather up just a bit to pick up where I'd left off. Heather had apparently done an adequate job lubricating Piper's strap-on, because she entered our guide without any difficulty. Shifting my position a little, I presented my cock to Heather before pressing it up against her lips.

 

"You know the rules," I said, "whoever gets fucked has to clean the toys. Have a little taste of your juices, sweetie, and look me in the eyes while you suck on it."

 

Heather obeyed me, but between mouthfuls she said, "I thought you were both going to be inside me."

 

Piper laughed at that. "Uh oh, I think we need to change positions then."

 

 

It took a little jostling and shifting to get to the right angle, and in the end Piper ended up underneath Heather, who would have been riding her in the cowboy position if I didn't push her down from behind and look for an entrance. I briefly and futilely tried to squeeze in with Piper's cock, but Heather was too snug a fit for a double entry like that. Soon enough, I switched to her ass, and with some gentle but firm attention I was sliding in and out of her back passage in no time. 

 

"Ah, it's too big," Heather complained.

 

Piper shushed her. "Just relax and believe in yourself, and you'll be fine. Trust me, have you seen the butt plug on the power suit? Charley puts way more in her ass all the time."

 

"Charley," Heather gasped, "ah, Charley has," she arched her pack, tugging herself half way off the cock before I could pull her back towards our laps, "Charley has way more practice."

 

"Did you hear that, honey?" Piper asked. "I think that was an invitation for lots of ass play during your trip."

 

 

If Heather had felt great under my hands when she was posing for us, she felt even better sandwiched between Piper and I. We kept up our thorough reaming of her until I felt her tense and quiver.

 

"I think we got a little squirt," Piper said. "Oh! Yes, we definitely got a squirt. Heather, you didn't tell us you were a squirter."

 

Panting, Heather answered, "consider it payback for last time we were here."

 

Piper laughed out loud, "oh, Charley, she's spicy today!" 

 

My wife wriggled out from underneath Heather, standing her up part way, but as I scooched underneath her I stopped her from fully standing. 

 

"I want you to keep riding my cock while you clean Piper," I said. "Show me what those tight thighs can do - I want you going all the way up and down the shaft."

 

 

So positioned, Heather ran the length of my strap on all the way down until her hips rested on my lap, then back up until the head of the cock was tugging against her anus. All the while, she kissed and licked at Piper's strap on. 

 

At length, after Heather had rendered Piper's toy spotless, I finally let her free of me and turned her to the less appetizing task of cleaning the dildo that had spent the last half an hour or so in her ass. 

 

"Good girl," I whispered as she slurped the bitter chode while I ran my fingers through her hair. "You definitely earned the conclusion to that story."

 

Once Heather had finished her post-coital duties, we returned to the bed to finish up the story. Somehow, against all odds, Robin survived her visit to Club X, even managing to win a bizarre butt-plug-guillotine-tug-of-war with a fellow club member. Nevertheless, I felt the story ended on something of a downer. Robin was obviously completely mentally broken from the experience, and as she took one final look at her sister roasting over a fire, the chef spoke to her brother-in-law, Jim.

 

"Jim, can you help get the meat on the table? I've got to go help with the decorations."

 

"Sure," Jim answered, "you go ahead. Robin and I will take care of it."

 

 

The implication, that Jim made Robin butcher her own sister and serve the cuts of meat, was left to the reader's imagination. That struck me as an interesting choice considering how the comic hadn't pulled any punches up to that point. Maybe, though, it wasn't a pulled punch at all. Maybe the artist thought that nothing he drew in the panels of his book could compare to the images that would form in his readers' imaginations. 

 

"That's... fucking dark," Heather whispered. During the whole guillotine scene she'd been quivering with anticipating to see what was next - and I'm pretty sure she had left a wet spot on the bed. But now she was still. "Really fucking dark."

 

Somehow, the spell was broken, and we were all thrown into a contemplative mood. "I thought you were kidding when you said this was about how victims get turned into accomplices. Is this how people end up becoming raiders? They get lured in, and before they know it they're in too deep?"

 

"For some of them? Definitely. Back before the war, stories like this were just fantasies... I hope. But even without the sex and the elaborate executions, things that rhymed with this happened. Religious cults, terrorist groups, you name it... even the army, I suppose. They'd break you down and then build you up into a different person than you were when you went in."

 

Talking about the army made me think about Nate, and I found myself lost in my thoughts for... a while. I think all of us were. 

 

"Charley?" Heather said.

 

"Hmm?" I murmured in acknowledgement.

 

"Is this what Concord's doing? Is this what Charley First is doing? Breaking down people and then building them back up into something else?"

 

I didn't have a good answer for that. Not at first. I had to think about it for a good long time before I could answer her.

 

"Maybe," I admitted. "Maybe. But if that's what we're doing, we're doing it to live better, not to take advantage of people. We're building people back up without," I pointed at that last pane. "Without that. Without people having to be their own worst enemies to survive. We're building them back up so they can really live."

 

"I hope so," Heather said. "I... it feels weird to say it, but I believe in you. I hope I'm not wrong."

 

I put an arm around her, drawing her close. "I hope so too."