"I've never denied it. I took fierce joy in combat, in pitting

myself against other men, steel to steel. But Aine twisted

it, changed it into something malevolent and cruel.

A reflection of her.

Girl's kisses hurt."

2/19th Special Weapons Group

Restricted Area, Alfenwehr West Germany

Late Winter- January, 1986

Day 11 of Repairs

Day 3 of the Second Incident

Evening

I grabbed the top of his shitty copycat LBE, right where the center strap split into the shoulder straps, and snatched him backwards and down, bending him back at the waist over the window. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to scream as I brought the knife straight down into the right side of his chest. I felt the blade jar off a bone, but it still went in all the way. He gave a grunt as he started to overbalance on the window frame.

Aine reached down, grabbed his feet, and lifted them up, tipping him outside the window when I yanked the knife out in a spray of blood. Her face and breasts were spattered by the back spray when the blade came free, scarlet droplets highlighting just how pale her skin was. She was smiling as she stood up and leaned slightly out the window to watch me as I dropped down on the guy with steel in my fist and murder in my heart.

The guy was starting to raise his hands up as I drove a knee into his stomach. I planned on stabbing him once more to finish him and jumping through the window, but something touched me, light as the snow, at the base of the skull and a warmth spread through my body.

The lizard hissed a warning but I ignored it as a hot and delicious taste flooded my mouth; I could smell apple blossoms, strength flowed into my limbs, and a red haze covered my vision. It took everything I had not to fall on him and start biting and tearing with my teeth. My limbs were thrumming with strength and heat, my heartbeat felt like a massive piston inside my chest, and as the warmth spread through my body I was vaguely aware I had an erection.

Time slowed down as I brought the knife up again. It wasn't enough any longer to just kill him, he needed hurt, punished, and made an example of. A faint moan of lust tickled my ear as everything crystalized.

I needed to brutalize him.

His eyes were wide, but I slashed across them, laying open the bridge of his nose to the bone. He made a strangled noise as I stabbed him up by his left collarbone and twice in the stomach. When he reached out at me, I grabbed his wrist and stabbed through his hand. I twisted the knife as he started trying to scream and only making a breathless whistling noise, then yanked it out, grabbed his other wrist, and sliced through his palm with that one.

"Oh, yes, my Aodán." Aine's voice. My ear heating as her breath tickled it. I could feel her hot tongue dance across the outside of my ear, and her fingertips touching the base of my skull ignited a fire inside of me.

I shifted, stabbed him twice into his stomach, twisting the knife brutally each time, and then stood up, panting. A glance at the guy showed him staring up into the snow, his face ruined, his mouth opening and closing silently. Turning away I wiped my face with my sleeve, staring at Aine, who stood in the window.

"Stay there, my Aodán," she said softly. She made sure there was no glass shards in the way, then slid through the broken window like a warm breeze. She stood next to me, snow whirling around us, the front of her dress open and barefoot, and smiled.

"Drag him," she told me. I nodded, bending down and grabbing him by his feet. I dragged him down the steps, in the dark and the snow, while he feebly tried to move. His head kept bouncing off the steps, and the wind swept the disturbed snow around and erased all evidence that he'd been pulled to the base of the steps. At the bottom of the steps I dropped his feet and moved back up to where Aine waited.

She kissed me, her lips just grazing mine, and then moved away from the door. She drifted onto the edge of the loading dock, and motioned at me to follow.

I glared at her, my muscles trembling with the need to lunge at her, carry her down to the floor, tear her dress off, and take her on the snowy tile. Instead I shook my head, growling at her. I kept the hallway in my peripheral vision, a tiny part of me hoping the fake-ass SEALs would come into the hallway because that would push me into combat mode and away from Aine.

Her eyes narrowed as she walked back. "Come in here, boy," she said again, reaching out and touching my cheek. Her fingertips put a little pressure on my skin and I followed her like an obedient puppy, my heart hammering with desire, a need to please her, to make her happy, to prove I was a good boy.

I climbed in the window, and she reached up to touch my cheek, smiling at me. That smile warmed my heart, filled that singing empty core that I had become with warmth. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered in my ear, her hot breath tickling me.

"You will not run, Aodán. Unless they attack me or you, you may not act," she said. "Do you understand?" I nodded and she frowned, her hand moving to behind my neck. The warmth spread out, wiping away my own desires. "Do you understand?."

"I understand, my rosog," I answered softly, calling her my rose. She smiled shyly, blushing slightly, and lowered her head so she was looking at me through those long eyelashes.

"That's a good boy," she whispered. "Follow me, you will be just fine, I won't let anyone harm you." I nodded, even though the lizard was frantically pointing at something on the wall where he put important data.

... Deep, sunken eyes, nothing but black pits full of hatred and dark mirth. Gaping open jaws, full of broken and jagged teeth that were too long for the mouth. White skin, with the edges of the mouth pulled up in a horrific grin.

Grimy, dirty, tattered BDU's, covered with frozen mud and a rind of frost...

Something flickered in Aine's eyes and she reached up to put her hands on my cheeks, drawing my head down and kissing me. Her lips were sweet, like I remembered, her mouth tasted of cherries and apples, and the kiss was long and lingering.

Memories of Tandy fell away to ashes.

"Be a good boy, Aodán," she told me, and took my wrist in her tiny hand, leading me toward the stairwell on silent feet.

She led to the stairwell, opening it just enough for me to slide in. For once the stairwell was silent when the door opened, a hushed feeling coming over me.

"Go to my room. Strip naked. Kneel on the end of my bed. Wait for me, do nothing, say nothing, be still and be a good boy." She reached up and wrapped her small hand around the back of my neck. "Do you understand?"

The lizard hissed with hate, but I found myself nodding.

"Good boy. Go on, hurry, I will be up soon," she told me. I shook my head, trying to break through the apple blossoms.

"You are a disobedient boy," Aine murmured, reaching out to take my left wrist in her right hand. "You were hard enough to wake back up out there in the snow, now you don't want to be a good boy and do as you're told." She shook her head in the dimly lit hallway. She moved through the door and led me into the dim stairwell, pausing at the bottom of the steps. She turned to face me, smiling, her eyes wide and luminous. Blood was spattered on her face, on her perfectly shaped breasts, where the droplets had run leaving streaks. Snowflakes still clung to her bare breasts, and that single fluffy one still sat astride her nipple. She touched my cheek with her fingers again, the warmth filling me.

"Are you ready to do as you're told?" she asked.

I shook my head and growled again at her. The lizard was hissing, tapping on the 'ABORT' button.

The fake SEAL team was split, divided; if I struck fast and hard I could take them. I could hear them opening and closing file cabinets in the Orderly Room, and I could tell by the way the light fell in the Ready Room that they were in the Supply Room and Sensitive Items Storage. Grab the M-16 that the dying guy had left on the counter, go in hard and fast, exploit the fact it was a target rich environment with no friendlies, get in close when the ammunition ran out and...

"No," she said, reaching up and putting her hand around the back of my neck.

The back of my skull throbbed, the pain washing away the burning warmth of her touch.

...stop touching me, bitch...

"Obey your girl, boy," she said softly. The smell of apple blossoms and hot blood bloomed around me, making my head swim. She was hitting programming that all boys in my family were indoctrinated with, pushing my buttons to make me follow her commands.

I shook my head again, growling at her, shaking with the need to kill the fake SEALs, feeling the need to protect all my friends, with the need to take her down on the floor and ravage her, with the need to brutally cut apart the Major and Tashton while they screamed and bled.

She held up her wrist, making sure I could see what she was wearing on it. A bracelet of reddish auburn hair, some of it stained, tightly woven and knotted, seamless. Her other hand moved to a bare breast, the snowflake brushed away to fall to the floor.

... . She looked at the shining blood on the lock of hair, then locked eyes with me as that pointed little tongue, too long and feline for such a small mouth, extended from her mouth to lap daintily at the blood left behind when my knuckles had torn...

"Know your place, boy. Obey your girl," she said. Her green eyes held mine as her fingers caressed the base of my skull, the pupils growing larger, pulling me in, drowning me. Her fingertips came up, the blood on them glimmering in the dim light of the stairwell, catching my attention. I could see her breast that she had touched with that hand, see the thick drop of blood welling up on the nipple suddenly roll down, down the bottom of her breast, and vanish into the dress.

Something inside of me collapsed when her fingers grazed my lips. Unable to stop myself, my lips parted and she slipped those bloody fingers into my mouth. My shoulders slumped as programming took effect. She was a girl, and that was all that mattered. Thought was gone. The lizard kept trying to invoke memories, give me something to fight with, something to get my brain moving, but the memories kept shattering into confusing shards before they could fully form.

"That's my good little Aodán. Such a good boy," Aine purred, pulling her fingers from my mouth. "Go to my room. Strip down like a good boy. Kneel at the end of my bed. Wait for me right there, boy, and don't move," she told me. "Talk to nobody but me, boy."

I nodded dumbly. All I could taste was sweet, hot blood. All I could smell was apple blossoms and a wild, feral smell that made my head swim and my body react. All I could feel was the warmth of her touch.

I nodded again and moved into the stairwell. She let the door go, smiling at me, and filling me with warmth.

She let go of me with a laugh as I started moving up the stairs mechanically. She pulled open the door and slipped back into the hallway, leaving behind her voice saying: "My boy. Mine."

As I climbed the stairs I heard her scream, the wicked Aine I knew gone, but a terrified and hysterical woman. She'd left the door open just enough for sound to carry as I rounded the landing.

"We were by the window, and... and... he suddenly was pulled out of it!" Aine screamed, barely audible.

There was a confused babble of voices, but their voices weren't Aine's, so they didn't matter as I watched. She screamed again, a completely panicked sound, as men flooded over by her. My head swam, and all I could think of was her voice, her touch.

Thought swept away and I found myself going up the stairs without remembering telling my body to. I was floating in the middle of warmth. It radiated from the base of my skull, flowed through my veins, slid along my muscles, and lit my skin on fire.

I could see her in my mind, dancing as she moved through a summer field, her hips swaying, her hands coming up above her head and then sweeping down, her feet moving in intricate little steps, dancing through the grass. The memory was so strong I could hear her.

I crossed the landing and slowly opened the door to Titty Territory. A quick glance showed me that the hallway was empty. Nobody could see me from the CQ Area, not with the windows painted black, so nobody saw me slowly move down the hallway.

...her touch... her smell...

The door to her room opened at a touch, warmth enveloping me, and I shut the door quietly behind me before heading into the main part of the room.

Her bed was obvious, a hand-sewn quilt covered in runes on the bed. I stripped off my clothing, folding it neatly and setting it on top of the three drawer chest at the end of her bed, and then knelt at the end of her bed, my head bowed, my arms at my sides.

The lizard snarled, prodding at me, but nothing happened.

The fire was receding, the rage was dying down, replaced by a mindless, drifting euphoria as I knelt on the end of her bed, the smell of apple blossoms and blood filling my mind.

Images of her flickered through my mind. Her naked and laughing as she ate a peach we'd picked from the tree we'd just finished making love underneath. Her in a bikini arcing off the diving board and slicing into the pool, swimming from the diving end to the shallow end without coming up for air. Her using a fingertip covered in blood from her period to paint designs on my face and chest, her little tongue held between her sharp teeth as she concentrated. Her laying in the grass masturbating and watching me through half closed eyes. Her using her sharp little pointed fingernails and cutting on my chest just deep enough to draw blood, then licking the blood with that bright red tongue, looking up at me through her long eyelashes. Her wearing a sundress and dancing in a field of flowers. Her climbing a tree in a dress, giving me tantalizing flashes as she climbed higher and higher.

...Nancy laying next to me in the darkness, breathing slowly and deeply, her eyes closed but moving as she dreamed...

"My boy. Mine." Aine's voice.

Aine's cousins holding a girl upright by her arms while Aine drove her little fists into the girl's abdomen, snarling 'my boy, mine' with every punch. Aine pulled a girl's head to the side by her hair before raking her pointed nails down the side of her face. "He's my boy. Mine." Aine red faced and shaking with rage as the words 'we're breaking up' left my mouth and she spit at me 'No. You're my boy. You'll always be my boy. Now and forever, mine.' Her cousins holding me while she walked back and forth in front of me, wrapping stinging nettles around her small fists, my shirt torn off and laying at my feet. "You're boy. Mine." The feel of her small fists hitting me, the stinging nettles burning, her snarling 'You're my boy. Mine." with every punch.

...Nancy straddling the face of the woman we'd picked up at the NCO Club, leaning forward to watch eagerly as I thrust into the other woman, her eyes bright and her smile wicked. 'Do her good, Ant. God, she's good with her tongue, do her good.' Her voice urged me on, sharp gasps punctuating her words...

"My boy. Mine." Aine's voice, sounding angry.

Aine making a chain of daisies to wrap around my neck, a lead of woven grass to lead me through the field with to the swimming pond. The wind picking up as she stripped naked in the middle of the forest clearing and began to dance while the clouds gathered. Aine vaulting naked onto the back of her horse in one smooth motion, her alabaster skin in sharp contrast to the brown horse. Aine standing on the back of the horse, balancing perfectly as the horse galloped through the field.

...my Father holding Nancy's hand at the airport. 'Take care of my boy. I'm giving him to you to take care of, I'm trusting you. He needs a woman to watch out for him, all the boys in our family do, and you're up to it.' Nancy's blush at his words as she answered 'I will, Sergeant Major.'...

"No! My boy! Mine!" Aine's voice.

The back of my head started throbbing, and an icicle began sliding into my shoulder joint, the staples still embedded in the skin freezing the skin beneath them.

I faintly heard the door open and close, and a few seconds later the smell of apple blossoms and blood came back full force. I looked up, my head heavier than it should be, the pounding pain in the back of my head giving me the strength I needed.

Aine had just finished dropping her dress on the floor and was gloriously naked in the dim light of the room. She was still speckled with blood, all of it dried, but the smell of hot blood grew stronger despite that fact. She walked over to the desk, her hips swaying as she moved, a wild feral smell teasing my senses. She picked up a book of matches and lit three candles, sticking out her tongue and putting the match out on it. She put the smaller candle into the clay rest, a small ceramic pot over the candle, and poured water into the cup.

Nancy appeared in my memories, laughingly pulling me and John onstage at a festival, the three of us dancing and laughing to the music.

Aine spun around, her eyes narrowed and a frown on her face. She took two steps forward and slapped me, hard, across the face. It barely moved my head as I stared at her, locking eyes with her. I could feel the sting of a split lip and knew that the recently healed scar had broken open.

"No. You're my boy, Aodán McDaur'n, mine," she snapped. She grabbed my chin and squeezed, her sharp pointed nails digging into my jaw. She let go and used her index finger to touch the stinging spot on my lip. She brought the finger up to her mouth and sucked on it, her eyes widening. She grabbed my jaw and tilted my head back and forth as she looked in my eyes.

The feral smell grew stronger. Her mouth opened in a little 'O' and she let go suddenly.

"You're not Annie anymore," she said softly, then giggled. "No wonder you're so hard to control." Her fingers traced the bracelet of woven hair on the opposite wrist. She stared at me for a long moment, then turned away. My eyes were drawn to her pert little dimpled butt but I stared at the back of her head instead.

...one hand on the back of the head, the other under the chin, put your shoulders and hips into it as you twist violently to the left...

She jerked, turned around and stared at me for moment. She licked her lips and tilted her head slightly, then smiled.

"Don't worry, Aodán, I know how to handle unruly boys like you," she purred before turning back around. She'd used the name the family had given me. My grownup name that the family would call me by once I had a wife, a child, and became a real boy.

"Not. My. Name," I managed to growl. She turned around and smiled at me, leaning back against the desk and opening her legs slightly. She looked otherworldly in the dim light, her body petite and perfectly formed. Her red pubic hair shined in the light, a patch the size of a 1 Deutschmark piece at the top of the slit. Her blood red nipples stood out, and her flat belly was flawless except for the innie belly button.

"It doesn't matter what your Uncle named you, Aodán," she purred, using that name again. "The name he gave you is crude and ill fitting." She smiled gently at me. "You're not a child anymore. Relish your adult name, boy." She turned back to her little lidded teapot.

The water in the ceramic was steaming as she opened up the drawer and pulled out small felt bags. She used her fingers to crumble pinches of herbs into the tea, putting each bag back when she was finished. The smell of tea mixed with the wild feral scent, the smell of hot blood, and the thick cloying smell of apple blossoms.

"They tried to marry me off to Logan, told him to divorce his wife, that whore who stole you from me, tried to tell me the two of you were the same," she said softly, stirring the tea with a cream colored stick that had small carvings on the handle. "I'm an Aine, and I refuse to settle for the weak blood that runs in your brother's veins." She pulled the stirring stick out of the tea, the wet bronze tip gleaming in the light of the candles. As she kept speaking, she pushed the point into the skin on the inside of her wrist until blood welled up. "Your father sold you to me. You're mine. It doesn't matter how far you run, you're still mine." She rubbed the end of the stick back and forth in the blood before going back to stirring the tea while sucking on the inside of her wrist. She'd used that name again, and it made my stomach churn to hear it from her lips.

...'Ant, I love you!' screamed down a stairwell...

The icicle pushed further into my shoulder.

...'Stay down,' the guy in the mask said as he walked by...

The pain in my head came back in a rush, the throbbing pain that normally made me want to puke but this time pushed away the smell of apple blossoms.

Aine had opened her legs slightly, rubbing the brass tip between her lips, singing softly to herself as she did so. She withdrew it and went back to stirring the tea, still singing softly.

...the talon dug into my shoulder, pushing next to the blade, and then withdrew as soon as it dug deeply into my flesh. There was a sucking sound, then another low chuckle. It was wet, and cold, and without any humanity...

Hatred welled up inside of me. At my mother. At my father. At the Army. At my chain of command. At myself. At the universe. It began burning away the smell of apple blossoms. My shoulders tensed, the muscle bunching, my right shoulder burning with the effort.

The lizard was hissing, his claws opening and closing, his toe-claws peeling curling slivers of metal from the brushed steel floor of his work-station.

Aine opened the drawer again and removed a small cup, delicate china, and set it down on the desk.

I clenched my fists, staring at her back.

...between the third and fourth ribs, a quarter twist, and pull it out before slamming it in again...

I tore my gaze away from her and looked at my clothing. My pants were folded beneath my BDU top, so the knife clipped to the back of my belt was hidden. I clenched my fists again.

Aine stepped into my line of vision, the cup held in both hands, her lips pursed as she blew on the steaming liquid inside. She smiled at me when I looked at her. She let go of the cup with her left hand and reached out to wrap her hand around the side of my neck so her fingertips touched the base of my skull. Fire coursed through my at her touch, her smell got stronger, and my clenched fists relaxed. The pain in my head receded, the icicle withdrew, and the lizard hissed in hate.

Aine chuckled.

"You're a fighter, Aodán," she said softly, using that goddamn name again. "That's going to make things so much better." She lowered the tea-cup, reaching out with one hand to grab my jaw again. "They told me to pick someone else, that you were beyond my reach, my own mother told me to settle for Logan." She sneered, squeezing my jaw and forcing my lips apart. "The thought of his touch makes my flesh crawl. The thought of him inside me makes me want to puke." She pushed the cup against my lower lip. "I'd kill anything that flowered in my belly from his seed." She tilted my head up so I was looking at her face instead of the spot just underneath her left breast where I was visualizing cold steel sliding into her flesh.

"Drink, Aodán," she told me, tipping the cup. The authority in her tone, combined with that name, robbed me of my ability to spit it in her face.

The hot tea, bitter and burning, filled my mouth and I swallowed despite what I wanted. She kept tipping the cup up, her hand holding my jaw, forcing me to swallow or drown, but I wasn't in control of what I was doing and swallowed eagerly, yearning to please her, needing her to smile at me.

"Just sit there a moment." She held my chin until my stomach clenched, threatened to rebel, and I broke out in a sweat. Aine chuckled and let go, letting me curl forward around the pain in my stomach. She rubbed two fingers on the base of my skull and moved away.

As she picked out more felt bags, each of them with a stitched rune on them, I could feel my muscles starting to tremble as the nausea twisted my belly. She pulled out a small mortar and pestle and set it on the desk. I groaned, sharp tearing painful cramps wracking my belly, and I tried to curl forward slightly and failed, feeling muscles in my legs and arms start the spasm. But I still knelt, head bowed, almost unmoving except for muscles spasming visibly.

...my mother had my head wrapped in one arm, using her fingers to hold my mouth open, as she poured hot tea down my throat. Hot enough to hurt but not hot enough to blister, hot enough to leave my throat aching and reminding me that I'd been punished. 'Nasty boys needs to learn to keep their hands and eyes to themselves,' she told me as I choked and sputtered...

Hatred flooded up again and I tensed up, willing the muscle tremors to stop.

Aine was humming to herself, singing an idle word here and there as she ground things up. The grinding of stone on stone was like thunder. The smell of apple blossoms was still teasing my senses, her wild, feral smell still causing a fire in my brain, the smell of hot blood making my mouth fill with saliva.

...lying in bed, sweating, as stomach cramps kept me doubled over. My limbs shook uncontrollably as I wept. I'd been bad again, and the soup I'd had for dinner was my punishment...

I ground my teeth together and clenched my fists hard enough to feel my fingernails press painfully into my skin. I managed to raise my head and stare at Aine's back.

...bitch, you poisoned me... rang in my head.

A rabbit sat on the desk, next to where Aine was working. While I watched it scratched behind its ear and then looked at me. Its little nose twitched, its ears were floppy, and its sleek fur was brown and white. I wanted to pick it up, to hold it, to rub my face on its fur and cuddle it.

Aine dribbled some kind of liquid from her little kettle and into another little cup. She poured in the powder from the pestle, then picked up a small twig that the end had been shredded. She stirred it as she lifted up the cup, turning to see me.

She chuckled as I glared at her, hating her, wanting to wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze until her face turned purple. The lizard approved, and added in a disemboweling kick with his back legs for good measure.

"You are strong," she purred, moving forward. She put one hand on her stomach, over her belly button, her fingers spread wide. "That's good." She gave another low, throaty chuckle as she stopped in front of me. "Now my mother isn't here forcing those stupid pills down my throat. Now there's nothing stopping me from quickening."

She took her hand from her stomach, put her palm against my forehead, and pushed me backwards. I flopped back, landing sprawled on the bed, my stomach cramping and muscle tremors hitting me again.

On the ceiling clouds moved stately across the room. I could see a Blackhawk slowly tracking across the sky that had replaced her ceiling. The lizard shrieked in rage at the sight of the sky.

I didn't remember hallucinations when my mother had fed me the tea. Was it something new about Aine's tea? Was it the head wound? Or was it something else?

Aine straightened out my legs, sitting on the bed, her legs crossed demurely. She let her fingers linger over my body, tracing scars, pushing gently into the muscle.

"You McDaur'n boys are all so exotic," she purred. "All that mixed blood in you." She kept trailing her fingers over my skin as I watched shapes and colors appear and disappear on the ceiling. "The matrons told me if I could catch you, I could have you," she snickered. "Your uncle tried to say that I had no claim, that he had paid back the money my father had paid to buy you, but the matrons overruled him." Her fingertips reached the cross I'd burnt into my skin to eradicate Tera's name and she laughed.

"Do you think that will protect you?" she asked me, dipping a finger into the cup she held. "Did you do that just for me? Were you afraid of me? Did you know I was coming and cut the sigil of that god into your skin in hopes of keeping me away?" She giggled, painting a stripe over her breast that curled over the top, arced around, and dipped below. "I'm an Aine. I get what I want. You're a boy, what you want doesn't matter." With her other hand she grabbed me, squeezing tightly. "Just this should show you that it won't protect you from me." She stroked gently up and down as she kept drawing lines on her skin.

I'd seen the pattern before. When I'd gone home on leave, the old women had painted Tera's body like that before sending her, wrapped in gauzy strips, to the bedroom where I was waiting.

Nine months later our son was born.

The lizard snarled, and an image of blood exploding from Bomber's thigh welled up in my mind. My muscles clenched as I relived putting his field dressing on the wound while he popped off shots from his XM-16E1 to keep the guys who'd snuck into the 1K Zone honest.

By the time the image cleared Aine was standing up, swirling patterns that all focused on her belly drawn with blue colored paste. She'd let go of me, had her eyes closed with her hands raised up, her hands cocked at the wrists to expose her palms to the sky. Her lips were moving silently, and I watched the muscles in her smooth belly ripple. She gasped sharply and opened her eyes, looking down at me.

"My boy. Mine. All mine," she growled, climbing up on the bed. She threw one leg over me, straddling me, and leaned forward. "Mine. Body and soul. My boy." When her legs had opened, the feral smell got stronger, her breath as she growled smelled of hot blood, and the smell of apple blossoms rolled off her flushed and painted skin.

She lowered down and the fire swept up, igniting my brain and washing away all thought. The lizard kept slapping the 'ABORT' button, trying to stop it, but the tea was in system, the fire was in my blood, and Aine possessed me utterly.

Almost utterly.

A small part of me was screaming in rage. I had almost a physical sensation of slamming my fists against a stone wall. The more it screamed, the more it pounded on the walls, the stronger it got, the more I could feel a scream of rage building up inside of me.

I managed to reach up and grab her breasts, my fingers digging deep into the firm flesh, my forearms bunching as I started to twist them. Aine gasped, grasped my wrists, and pulled my hands from her with ease. She held my wrists against my chest as she rode me, her sharp fingernails biting into the inside of my wrists as she moved.

Her eyes opened and she threw her head back, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. She was making guttural noises in her throat, her eyes rolled back in her head. She began with a whisper but soon moved to crying out with every downward thrust of her body.

"My boy. Mine. Mine, mine mine. Forever and ever and ever. Mine forever and ever," she was chanting, using that fucking name she kept throwing in my face. She was covered in sweat, her hips flexing back and forth as she rode me. I was covered in sweat too, my muscles trembling and unresponsive, weak and helpless as she held my wrists and pinned them to my chest. I was glaring at her, baring my teeth in a snarl, as she took what she wanted from me. She let go of my wrists, sinking her fingernails into my pectorals hard enough to draw blood as the sharpened points of her nails punctured the skin. My hands jerked as the muscle tremors shuddered through my body. Aine didn't care, she was taking what she wanted, what I'd broken up with her over in High School.

A scarred hand, with chipped and ragged nails, came into my vision as I tried to light Aine on fire with just sheer hatred. When Aine lifted up, the hand grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head.

"Oh, yes, pull my hair, Aodán, pull my..." Aine gasped, and I could feel her tighten and spasm around me.

"Like this, bitch?" Nancy snarled, ripping her off me, putting her back and hips into it.

Aine weighed around a hundred pounds, despite her freakish strength, and hadn't even seen it coming. Nagle hadn't been cripplingly injured like Bomber and I, hadn't lost all the muscle that life at Atlas and the long days of physical labor had covered her body with. She was over the weight for her height, but made the tape easily, with a thickly muscled waist, broad shoulders, and softball sized biceps.

Aine flew across the room in an arc with a shriek of rage and pain, a shriek that stopped when she hit the far cinderblock wall. She hit Lanks' bed and bounced up, her expression twisted with animalistic fury. Her eyes were burning with anger and her teeth were bared.

"My boy," she snarled. "Mine."

"Grab him, John. I don't think he can walk," Nancy ordered, turning to face Aine. Nancy was still wearing BDU's, and it was easy to mistake her for a fat woman thanks to the purposeful shapelessness of the uniform. John appeared in my vision, shaking his head.

"Dude, I'm not carrying you around with a bare boner rubbing on my shoulder." He grabbed my boxers off the top of my folded pile of closed.

The lizard was Snoopy-dancing with joy.

Aine flew off the bed at Nancy, hands outstretched into claws, those pointed fingernails gleaming in the candlelight. She was hissing like a scalded cat, her hands leading the way, her arms bent slightly at the elbow.

Nancy stepped into it and threw a straight arm punch into the Aine's face, stopping the smaller woman in mid-air with a crack. Aine dropped straight to the floor with a cry of pain. Bomber was skinning my boxers over my feet when Nancy stepped forward and drove a boot into the side of the smaller woman.

"These are my boys, bitch!" Nancy snarled, kicking her again. "I saved them. Mine." She kicked Aine again, and the smaller naked woman slid across the floor and hit Lanks' bed hard enough to shake it. "They're mine!"

Aine popped up, twin worms of blood oozing from her nose. Nancy dropped into the standard Basic Training Judo pose.

...My Nancy...

Aine smiled at Nancy, shimmying her body as she cupped her breasts and then slid her hands down her body until her spread fingers formed a diamond around her obviously wet and puffy crotch with the matted little patch of hair. John got my boxers on and grabbed my arms, pulling me into a sitting position. I shuddered and my stomach clenched again with rolling agony as the tea continued its work. My balls were starting to hurt so bad it felt like a pit of hot lead in my cramping stomach.

"You don't have to do this, Nancy," she purred. The scent of apple blossoms and that feral smell increased. "I can take all three of you. Separately, two at a time or all together, and leave you pleasured and sated like..."

Whatever it would have been like vanished as Nancy stepped forward and delivered a brutal snap-kick directly into Aine's crotch. Bomber was throwing me over his shoulders when it happened, and I saw it plainly, how the toe of her boot went between her thighs, spreading them apart, the sides of the sole of her boot abrading that alabaster skin. I saw the toe of her boot hit Aine in the crotch square, the lips spread open and then deform as the force of the kick lifted the smaller woman up.

Bomber took a step forward as Aine lifted up and fell back onto Lanks' bed. Nancy's foot went with her until Aine flew off, the larger woman following through with the kick like she was going for a field goal. Blood spattered from the force of the kick as Aine fell back, her legs thrown open, welts already appearing on the inside of her thighs.

Aine screamed then, a high pitched howl of agony. It speared into my head and I saw several of Lanks' crystal beer glasses shatter.

Nancy stepped forward, grabbed Aine's left knee, wrenched her leg open, and drove a fist into the smaller woman's crotch. The scream stopped and Aine convulsed as Bomber grabbed my uniform and boots off the three drawer chest. Thrown across Bomber's shoulders, I saw Nancy drive two more punches into Aine's crotch. Her knuckles were bloody after the first punch, and when she stood up and shook out her hand her hand was covered in blood.

"Stay away from my boys, you creepy little bitch," Nancy growled.

Aine moaned, her eyelids fluttering, passed out from the pain.

Nancy grabbed the edge of Lanks' OD green wool blanket and pulled, dumping Aine onto the waxed and polished tile floor. She hit with a smack, sprawled out, her face against the tile like her chest, her ass in the air from landing on her knees and folding over them.

Nancy threw the blanket over me and slapped John on the lower back. "Don't look at her, John. Let's go."

"Yeah. Goddamn," John said, shaking his head. He started to leave, and I could see Nancy turn around and face Aine.

Nancy was looking at Aine's upraised little butt, with the dimples, and her bleeding crotch that was already turning reddish-purple. She grinned, a savage thing with too many teeth and no mercy, and appraised the body of the other woman for a moment.

She drove the tip of her boot into Aine's crotch again hard enough to pitch the smaller woman onto her side and throw her against her own bed.

Right before we entered the hallway, I saw Nancy grab Aine's quilt and yank it over Aine's motionless body.

"Bitch."

Nancy slammed the door when we left, then led the way as we headed toward Queer Country. Her shoulders were bunched and her fists were clenched, and when she shoved open the doors at the midway point they both crashed against the wall.

"Hurry up, John, we need to get him to the room. I want to find out what he was doing in Aine's room when those SEAL Team Three assholes said he went back to his room almost an hour ago," Nancy said, stomping up the stairs.

"He's fucking heavy, bitch," Bomber grunted, shifting me as he started climbing the steps.

"Try having him on top of you," she snapped back, more out of habit than anything.

Bomber chuckled, breathing heavy from the stairs. "I swear to God, Ant, if you fucking puke on me..."

"We're gonna need him to puke anyway," Nancy said, pausing at the door. "I think that bitched poisoned him." She opened the door slightly and looked out into the hallway. "The lights are out to our room and the hallways are empty. Give me to the count of ten. Gimme his clothes."

"Roger that," Bomber said, shifting me again. My legs and arms were shaking and I kept shifting on his shoulders. "I think he's having another seizure, hurry up."

Nancy disappeared into the hallway and John shifted me on his shoulders.

"What the fuck is going on? First LT James tells us in the stairwell to fall back to our rooms, then your cousins come up and tell us that Major Mallory's here and told the LT you went back to your room, then we find you in Aine's room," Bomber mused.

I gagged and Bomber shifted me so my head was down further and if I puked it would be on the floor. It didn't help that the angle drove Bomber's shoulder into my balls.

"What the fuck is with that bitch and apple blossoms?" he wondered. He shrugged, lifting me up and down, making me retch. "Let's go."

He pulled open the door and hustled into the hallway. Nancy wasn't kidding, the whole hallway was dark and cold. I retched again, bringing up a thin stream of something bitter that made my scalded mouth burn. We reached the door, to find Nancy holding it open, looking worried and tapping her foot. I could hear the shower was on and smell the steam.

"Get him into the shower. I'm gonna head to the Mag Office and grab an aid bag." She slapped Bomber on the side. "Keep an eye on him, see if you can get him to puke, don't let his ass drown."

"Tell your mother how to suck eggs," Bomber said, moving into the bathroom. He carefully set me on the floor then cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders. "All right, let's do this." He pulled my boxers off, ignoring my erection, then got undressed and pulled me into the shower with him, my left arm over his shoulder while he help me stand.

"What the fuck did she do to you?" Bomber asked. He suddenly shivered. "Never mind, I just remembered what happened to me." He looked at me for a moment, then grinned. "Don't get mad, dude, but there's only three ways to make you puke. One is stick my fingers down your throat, and the last time I tried that my sister bit the shit out of my fingers. Another is to sock you in the balls really hard, and I don't think you want me to do that. So that leaves..."

He drove his fist into my abdomen. I didn't see it coming, and I couldn't do anything about it anyway. He kept me from falling face first into the water when I doubled over and puked. Black shit spewing out of my mouth and nose. It burned coming up. I kept throwing up, the water from the shower washing it down the drain.

"Christ, that shit reeks," Bomber bitched, squatting down and rubbing my back. "What the fuck did she give you?"

"Tea," I managed to choke out, then heaved again. My limbs were trembling so bad I couldn't have stayed upright if it wasn't for Bomber.

"Hey, you can talk," he said. "This isn't a seizure, is it? What kind of tea?"

"Poisoned. Hemlock." I gagged and threw up again.

He growled, low in the his throat, and stood up. "I know what'll help." He stepped out while I kept retching and gagging, coming back right after I threw up black clotted shit that was probably my dinner mixed with whatever Aine had put in the tea.

"Drink," he told me, putting the bottle in my hand. I took the bottle and swigged deep, and almost choked. I'd expected Wild Turkey, he'd handed me the bottle of Everclear we kept for emergencies. Between the hemlock, the hard punch to the gut, and the Everclear, I couldn't keep it down and ended up throwing up again.

The door opened and closed, Nancy coming in a moment later. "Stood outside the CQ Area, Aine's in there." I braced and waited to hear she was pressing charges. "She's claiming she didn't see you, and she's standing there smiling in a dress like nothing happened."

"She's an Aine," I gagged.

I spent about five more minutes alternating between dry heaving and throwing up Everclear and glasses of water. My throat burned, my sinuses burned, and the back of my head throbbed, leaving me with white sparks across my vision. The watery vision and the colors at the edge of my vision had faded, meaning they'd got the tea out of my system before the real bad effects had kicked in.

When it was over, Nancy helped me get dressed, then Bomber and Nancy guided me to a chair to sit down.

"All right, I want straight answers out you, Ant," Nancy said, putting in an IV. I looked up at her and she looked pretty grim. "I want to know what all the 'my boy' shit she was freaking out about was." She shook her head. "It sounds a bit more serious than when I say it. Why does she seem to think she owns you?"

I thought about lying for a split second, then changed my mind. They'd come to get me, they'd rescued me more than once. Lying to my two best friends wasn't an option.

"My father sold me to her father when I was three," I admitted.