The Weapon - Passion - part 7
By Diana the Valkyrie
Wendy and Milly double-teamed



Milly arrived early the next day. I knew it was early, because I was still in
bed. I knew she'd arrived because I woke up surrounded; Wendy on one side and
Milly on the other, and there was a hand between my legs, and in my groggy
half-awake state, I didn't know whose it was. A few seconds later, I didn't
care whose it was. And then Wendy made the question irrelevant, with a
vigorous sexual assault. I had no retreat, because Milly behind me felt as
hard as oak; after a couple of minutes I was sweating profusely, and very
shortly after that, I screamed Wendy's name several times. She let me drift
down the far side of my orgasm for a few minutes, then she said "Milly - get
him up and awake." "Noooooo!!!" I shouted as she dragged me to the bathroom
rather more brutally than Wendy did, and hit me with a blast of icy water for
a lot longer than Wendy would have. After my screams turned to gasps, she let
me get out and rubbed me down with a hot towel. It's easy to get upset about a
thing like that, but it's very difficult to stay angry when someone does the
hot towel rub to you. When we got downstairs, Wendy came over to me and held
me, saying "Oh, Milly, I think you were a bit too rough with him." Yeah,
right. Milly was doing exactly what Wendy had told her to do, and I was
supposed to melt into Wendy as my brave rescuer from the nasty Milly. Yeah,
right. So I did. I know which side my toast is buttered, and if Wendy wanted
to play villain-and-rescuer games, I was up for it. "Oh, Wendy, Wendy, thank
you for rescuing me from that nasty old Milly ..."

While they were feeding the babies, I went over the forthcoming part of my
Grand Plan.

"It's pretty simple, really. Just fly a search pattern over the countryside,
and each time you see any item of military hardware, you break it. Try to make
sure that people see you when you're doing it, I want this all to be as public
as possible." "How do I break a tank," asked Wendy. "Oh. I assumed that
wouldn't be a problem, can't you just fly into it and smash it up?" "No," said
Wendy, "I can not! There might be people inside." "Ah. OK. Well, how about
putting a bend in the gun barrel? That won't hurt anyone, and it means the
tank is impotent until they replace the gun, which will be a major piece of
work. You can handle artillery the same way. Machine guns and the like, you
can just break."

"I do love breaking things," said Milly, stroking my arm. "Oh Wendy, Wendy,
help, rescue me from the evil Milly" I squealed. Wendy laughed and put her
free arm round me.

I got serious again. "Any locomotives you see, don't break them, because we'll
need them when the economy gets going. Just derail them, take them off the
track and put them down a couple of hundred yards away. You can leave the
rolling stock on the track." "What about trucks," asked Milly, "do they count
as military or civil?" "Dual purpose," I replied, "we want them disabled, but
not permanently." "How?" "Break off the steering wheel; you can do that pretty
fast, because you don't need to open the bonnet and search for something."
"Cars? Bicycles?" "Leave them." "Planes?" "Big passenger jets, leave them.
Small fighters and the like, break them." "What do we do about soldiers and
people with guns?" asked Wendy. "Get the guns and ammo from them, also any
other weapons they have. And then just dispose of it all. There's no need to
hurt the soldiers, unless you need to do something to convince them to give up
their rifles." "Oh," said Milly, "I think we'll be able to persuade them," and
she flexed her bare bicep impressively. "Wanna arm wrestle me, honey?" I
looked at Wendy. "How will you persuade them, Wendy?" "I'll explain to them
they either they drop their guns, or else I'll break them in their hands, and
if I break a few bones in the process, then that's a price I'm quite willing
to pay." I thought, faced with these two, anyone with sense would surrender.
Quickly.

"OK, Wendy, you cover Rhythyn territory, Milly will cover the
Thrynyn-controlled areas. Then both of you cover the grey no-mans-land in
between, especially the capital city Hrvysklwr, which is where a lot of the
shooting is going on right now. But leave that for last, otherwise you'll have
to do it twice."

"Is that it?" asked Wendy. "Er, yes." "Sir, yes sir! Can do!" shouted Wendy,
then she saluted and flew out the window, followed closely by Milly. "Er," I
said, too late, "don't you think you'd have twice as many free hands if you
left the babies behind?" Goddamit. Do I have to spell out every little detail?
And they take babies into a war zone? Have they no sense? Feh! I phoned George
to moan about it. "It's no good telling me," was his predictable reaction,
"but Dunc, you should think a bit here. Where is it you always say is the
safest place in the world?" Hmm. Maybe they are in a safe place, at that. I
imagine that Wendy can make part of her cape bulletproof if she wants to.

I spent the day ordering the air-curtain for the window, bigger than a cat
flap and highly insecure, except that my idea was to have it as well as the
window, and close the window when we weren't in residence. In the evening,
though, I got a nice surprise. I'd not long gotten into my cold lonely bed,
when I felt a presence beside me, and a pair of hands rummaging me.

Yum yum, I thought, turning round to face her. "Wendy!" "Mmm" "Urrrrr". I did
a bit of groping in return. "Where's the baby?" "I left her behind, she's OK"
I groped a bit more. "Wait, wait." "Yes?" she asked. I grabbed her biceps, and
felt the bulge, "You're not Wendy!" "Good guess, sweetheart, want to try for
the jackpot?" "Why aren't you Wendy?" "Huh, always the deep philosophical one,
aren't you." "No, I mean, why isn't Wendy here? Or why aren't you with
George?"

They'd decided that one of them should stay in Ruthenia, flying high, looking
after the babies, but ready to swoop down if they saw any military vehicles
trying to move by night. Wendy let Milly go first, but Milly had asked her if
she could spend the night with me, and Wendy, of course, had agreed. "But why,
Milly? You're George's Weapon." "That's true, of course" she said, "but Dunc
... you were my first. And a girl never forgets her first love." Only a cad
would have pointed out that Milly isn't a girl. And only a fool would argue
the toss when a warm willing woman is eagerly exploring your possibilities.

I stroked her heavily muscled torso, feeling the ridges and bumps, working my
way down to a pair of thighs that felt like oak trees. "You could crack a
coconut with these" I whispered. "Honey, I could crack a bowling ball." She
pulled me back up to face her, "but right now, I'm going to crack you!" I
wriggled and squirmed, but she had me locked between those mighty thighs, held
gently but immovably. She held both my wrists in one of her hands, and used
the other hand to stroke my body and tickle under my arms. She held me
helpless as I twisted and turned to evade her torture, she stretched me out
when I tried to curl up and muffled my screams with her kiss. When a woman
controls you as thoroughly as Milly did, then you can't control yourself
either, and I was gasping out an orgasm within minutes.

When it was all over, she released her grip, and pulled me close to her,
snuggling me into her breasts, letting me rest and recover. But I made the
mistake of licking and kissing her nipples, and she soon retaliated, gripping
me inside her and pulsing her vagina until I lost control a second time. Or,
to be more precise, I never did have control.

Then she lay under me, her big body spread out beneath me on her back, in a
submissive position. Not that I felt that I could dominate her, she was just
too big, too strong and far too sexy. I stroked her arms, carefully staying
away from anything at all sexual, and asked her, "Milly, why did you decide to
have such a big and muscular body?" "Three reasons, Dunc. One, it's a lot more
intimidating than looking like Wendy, and I need all the help I can get. Two,
George likes it. Three, you like it too. Don't you." I looked up into her
eyes. "Yes," I whispered, "I do rather." She smiled, and her arms tightened
around me in a bear hug. "Unff."

"Third time," she said, her hands creating chaos up and down my back. "Hmm,
Milly, could I ask you for something?" She pulled me up until my face was
level with hers. "Yes, love, what would you like." "Well, it's a fine night
for flying ..."

She laughed, and opened the window. Then she picked me up, and we zoomed up
into the sky. "Wendy and I love doing it in midair, there's such a feeling of
freedom."

It was a clear night sky, the stars sprinkled like salt on a black cloth, the
moon lighting the contours of Milly's body. At ten thousand feet, we hovered.
"Would you like to fly solo?" she asked. I laughed, "Milly, I'm not like you,
I can't fly." "Yes you can, you're just not as good at it as I am." "No, I
can't." "You can, I'll show you."

She showed me the posture, arms flung out and back, knees bent, and when I
adopted it, she threw me forward. I followed the same parabola that a falling
brick would travel; my arms and legs provided no lift, just a little drag. My
falling speed increased until I reached 120 mph, the terminal velocity of a
human being, the speed at which the force of air resistance just balances the
force of gravity. Terminal in another sense too; if I hit anything hard at
this speed, like the ground, I wouldn't bounce, I'd splatter.

"Enjoying it?" asked a voice by me ear. "Er. Maybe. A bit. This is like sky
diving. Except, uh, I don't have, you know. A parachute? Milly?" She swooped
below me, doing a half-roll so that she was facing up towards me, and letting
my body fall onto hers. I felt the acceleration forces as she slowed our fall,
and then brought me back up to ten thousand feet, where we hovered again.
"There. Your first solo! Did you enjoy it?"

I was still trying to get my wits back together. "Yes, it was exhilirating. I
suppose like bungee jumping?" "But safer," she said, "no elastic to break.
Want to do it again?" "Um." She took that as agreement, and I was hurled
forward again. This time, knowing what to expect, I was able to relax
slightly, and feel the wind in my face, and the drag on my arms. This time,
Milly flew along side me for nearly a minute before she scooped me up again to
soar into the night sky.

"Enough," I said, "it's not as nice as when you're holding me close to you."

She wrapped her cape around us both, and ran her hands down my body. "Wendy
sends her love," she said. "She does?" I asked, stupidly. "Yes. Like this,"
she replied, demonstrating what she meant.

That third time was the longest, and the best. Milly used my body like a
violin to make music, and the music she made was Ravel's Bolero, which is, of
course, not a bolero at all, but a fifteen minute musical crescendo, leading
to a fortissimo climax of chords. I lasted the full fifteen minutes, but only
because Milly made sure that I did. "Love you Milly," I said, just before I
faded to silence.

I woke up the next morning alone in bed. This has to be one of the big
drawbacks of a relationship with a Weapon, they tend to love you and leave
you. But I knew she had a lot to do, and I was happy that I'd been visited at
all.

Nothing else happened that day, I took advantage of the lull to do some
vigorous weeding in my vegetable patch.

The next day, the air curtain arrived, and I spent a few interesting hours
installing it. I suppose one could argue that an open window is an invitation
to be robbed, but first of all, glass isn't exactly good for resisting someone
who wants to break-and-enter, and secondly I planned to leave it open only
when there was a Weapon in residence, and if any wannabe burglar tangled with
Wendy or Milly, they'd give up the vocation permanently.