Chapter 7 - Chapter: Back to Work

Eric woke up with the morning safety tone, announcing the district's defusers were online and had lowered the toxin level for the day.Warmth entangled him from both sides, and he luxuriated in the feeling before letting himself open his eyes to confirm who was warming what parts of him. Maz's breasts pillowed his head. Her arms rested on his thighs, and her fingers stroked him, unconsciously. The architecture of her body rose and fell, the weight on it, not hindering her breathing at all. Her breath whispered of his ear. Soft moans crept up from his waist, and Eric turned his head to see Cornelia's face, and his cock draped over it.

Her breasts were sandwiched between Eric's thighs and her arms and hands wrapped around to fondle his ass. Her thighs squeezed tight over one of his legs and he felt a warm slickness over his big toe where it had been tucked. He could see the hills of Cornelia's ass jiggle and shake as her pussy lips brushed against the thick toe. He yawned and gently set about untangling himself from the women above and below him. It was still dark out, so when his motions woke Cornelia, she laughed quietly and pinned him to the bed beside Maz. Her hands caressed his arms and her lips kissed his throbbing flesh.

"More." She whispered over his neck and kissed his cock. Sometime during the night, she had busted out some neon bright lipstick, and her kisses had left slightly glowing marks on his shaft and balls. Eric sighed and pointed at the clock beside Maz's bed, and Cornelia pouted. Eric, though, smiled and lifted her into his lap. His morning wood rising once the cushioning cleavage and carried her toward Maz's bathroom.

His bones popped back into place as he padded back to his apartment. So far, things had been going great here, he thought as he walked into his room to make sure Drip was content. He let the little Slime out for some dawn exercises: rolling over his arms and shoulders, and consequently smelling the lingering taste of the women he'd 'mated' with. He looked out his windows with a grin.

"So what's next?" He asked and heard the chirp of his phone from his bedroom.

He picked walked in, Drip on his head, and saw that his phone had a bundle of alerts. Most of it was just spam that got through the filter.

"<Morgan Wyre is back on Buddy Bracket! Tell [don't you assume my direct object gender!] you missed [don't you assume my possessive gender!] Buddy-tags.> Fucking Social. Wonder what brought him back."

"<Jackie Andrews Messaged you>. Huh, I guess they got there." He opened the message and much as Eric presumed, the newlywed husbands had arrived at his teacher's abode and made fast friends with the old crone. Not surprising, guys with faces like that were just her type to leer at and make passing remarks, the old biddy.

"<Dork_Boi> Messaged you (2 Hours ago)  Oh lords what is he up to now." He opened the message after sitting down, and he was glad he did. "FUCKING MORGAN." He closed his eyes and averted his face while Drip just let out a low burble at the image displayed. "Phone, Instruction." He heard the beep of the phone ready to receive the command. "Reply to sender:" Another beep. "God. Damnit. Morgan. Why. You. Do. This. Question Mark." He slowly spoke, to make sure the speak and spell didn't mistake his words. He hit send and with the images now collapsed he was able to see what text, if any, was attached to the message.

"Dear Big Bro. Heard the good news! Glad to see you're out of your funk, and holy shit I just checked your Bracket, you are getting some of that comfort chocolate already. As you can see, I'm getting some myself. I also got a job!"

"Bullshit." Eric swore under his breath as he paused from reading, and watched Drip roll of his shoulders and onto his bedroom desk.

"I'll tell you more after I catch some sleep, thought that might be a while. My new boss is keen on drilling me all night with the particulars of my new position."

"God.... damnit, Morgan." He sighed and clipped through the rest of the spam before putting his phone down and going to get a fresh set of clothes.

---




"So that's the power converter set up." Donna smiled and closed the panel to the aforementioned device. The rotating solar cones spun as they gathered sunlight for the building below. "Most of the stuff up here is new, but that's why regular upkeep is so critical."

"Because these parts are all new, and expensive." Eric nodded as he looked over the solar farm.

"And we'd rather not charge an arm and a leg of our residents." Donna concluded as she handed him a tablet. "You take the east row and I'll take the west and we'll have this wrapped up quick." She smiled and, true to her word, the two had gone through the solar farm in short work.

"Looks like that's it for today, unless you want me to start learning how to process the paperwork?" Eric suggested as they took the elevator down. Donna smiled and crossed one leg in front of other as she leaned against the elevator wall.

"I appreciate the offer, but you need an accreditation as a Notary for most of the stuff I get on a daily basis. Sorry." She shrugged and ran her tongue over the inside of her lips. Eric watched as the thin pink tip darted out and slid back.

"Ah." Eric nodded, "Clearly my training is incomplete." he sighed and crossed his arms. Donna laughed and jabbed him in the side. "Ow!" He laughed as he rolled a shoulder. He actually felt that. "Do you box?"

"Eh," She shrugged. "I was straw weight champ my first two years of high school, but that's cause I never really keep on the pounds." She sighed. "Then these girls came in," She grabbed at her chest, and Eric's eyes watched as her fingers pushed into her blouse and the soft breasts underneath. Wait, his eyes narrowed, Is she not wearing a bra? "I thought I was gonna be as flat as my sisters," She frowned and made a few punches and Eric watched as her jabs were solid and the follow through was good but, there was still hesitation. "Turns out I ended up getting udders like my dad's side."

"They aren't too large." Eric said, before he can catch his mouth, "I mean-"

"Oh. I know that now." Donna doesn't even bat an eye. "But high school me was bitch about how I had to pay for new sports bras instead of just getting by with hand me downs."

"Boxing a family thing?"

"Not really. My eldest sister does track and field coaching, and my second sister is a decathlon champ." Eric scratches his chin and his gears click. 

"Wait. Lenora Reines? The Olympic decathlon Gold Medalist?" He turns as the elevator reaches the ground floor. The woman nods and steps out of the elevator. "Holy crap," He followed her out. "That is a bit different." 

"Yeah, dad was mad when I got bumped into fly weight on account of my tits, then promptly got my ass handed to me." She sighed and noticed who was standing in the lobby. "Oh hey, it's the old man." She observed. Eric looked forward and saw an old man with a bushy white beard talking with Belle. He was dressed in blue overalls and and orange shirt with a matching hat. His long sharp nose stuck over the bush mustache, and as both turned from their conversation toward the approaching pair, the old man glared down nose at Eric.

Impressive, given he barely came up to Eric's chest.

"Morning, Belle." Eric waved, and was rewarded with the landlady's smile and a harrumph from the old man. "Sorry?" He turned and offered a hand to the old man, "Eric Wyre, I'm the RA for-" The old man slapped his hand into Eric's and gave it one quick shake.

"I know who you are," The old man growled, Eric restrained a laugh; the old man sounded like he gargled gravel. "Anna," He swatted away Belle's arm as she went in for a smack to the back of his head. "Told me you were good with your hands. I hope that means you're as good with tools as you are with tits." He chided. Eric had to chuckle as Belle laughed and Donna blushed a little.

"I'll be in the office, Boss." Donna excused herself. She smiled at Eric as she went, though it fell as she turned toward the office.

"See you later, Donna." Eric called after her as she left, and he was sure he saw a little spring pop back into her step before she entered the office.

"Friggin cunt tease." The old man chuckled, and Eric looked down to see him cross his arms. "Guy did that in my day, heh-" He rubbed his hip as if remember a sore, but happy, memory. "Right, so you've been shown the light work, right? Cleaning, Pipes, and keeping your slice of paradise content?" He met Eric's gaze and young man realized that not one, but both, of the old man's eyes were cybernetic replacements.

"Aye, sir." Eric found himself saying, and got a punch in the gut for it. Eric took a step back to catch his breath. THAT one, did hurt. Wow.

"Fuckin' don't call me, Sir, kid." The Old Man growled. "I worked every damn day of my life, and I don't intend to stop now. Call me Chief if you gotta fall back on something." His gravel voice leveled back out to a grumble. "Anyway, place like this has plenty of underground workings we gotta keep fixed. Some of it's a bit more... tricky."

"Tricky how?" Eric asked, "It's a new place, should all be up to code." 

"Yeah, but the place before it, wasn't. And there's stains that run deeper than most people stand to check."

"Belle?" Eric turned his head to the woman who was now crossing her arms under her incredible breasts, pushing them up in a way that would be distracting at any other time. But right now, Eric was focused. "Stop putting on a show," mostly focused, "What does he mean?"

"He means," Belle started. Damnit, how were her breasts shifting like that, was she not wearing a bra either? The way her arms were, he couldn't tell if her nipples were pressing through the blouse.

"I mean," The Old Man growled again, "Is that, there's Bugs and Shitems in the bottom of this city, same as any other. You're getting the job of 'janitor' has as much to do with your score on the rifle range as your wrench skills." He spoke up and waved a hand between Eric's gaze and the barely contained bosoms Belle was shifting in her shirt.

"I preferred shotguns." Eric deflected. His eyes still drifted to where Belle was teasing.

"Good, cause I've got plenty." The Old Man nodded. "So come on. Let's see what you can handle." He stomped on over to a hall off the main lobby. Eric watched him go a few paces before giving Belle a 'what the fuck' sort of look.

"Go on now, Eric. You've got this." She assured him, and after a quick glance to see that the lobby was 'mostly' empty, pulled down the edge of her blouse enough to show that Donna wasn't the only one going bra-free that morning. Dark nipples standing out and firm as she flicked a thumb over one, before stuffing her blouse full of breast once more.

Eric pouted and threw puppy dog eyes at his Landlady before shifting himself in his uniform and turning to follow the Old man, the Chief, down the hall and toward a door that killed his boner. IT was solid steel and clearly reinforced. The walls around it were also a very different material than the rest of the hallway. 

"Bellie give you an eyeful?" The Chief didn't so much ask as speak the obvious.

"Yeah, but fuck." Eric looked on either side of the doorway, and with a tap of his boot, realized even the floor under the tiles was a different material. "The HELL is in there?"

"Where'd you serve?" The Chief asks, as he punches in a security code. Eric watches him and memories the numbers. It's a short sequence, and there's a large red lock button.

"OZ." Eric replies as bolts as thick as his arm thud out of place. The door swings out, and Eric can hear the thick oily whisper of hydraulics. The door is heavy metal, layers of steel.

And the opposite side, is scored with slashes and gouges, and bullet divots. Beyond was a stairway lit with red lights recessed into the walls.

"Right, so you know Grounders, Worms, and Gobs?" He started down the steps with a bob to his gait. Eric followed after, and watched as turned as the door began to close on it's own. "It's a timer, and a four ton counter weight, so mind your dick and fingers."

"They called them Chiss, Dragonettes, and Gozzles." Eric used the words the local garrison had taught them to watch out for.

"Right. Be glad you weren't put up in France." The Chief shrugged and rubbed a shoulder. The sound of gears and metal could be heard in the distance.

"Bandersnatch?" Eric guessed. Not asking any more than that.

"Bandersnatch." The Old man shuddered. Not giving any more than that. They reached another sealed door, and after watching the Chief punch in the code, Eric took a look around the room they were in. It was tight, maybe enough for two people to walk side by side. It was plated with metal, and some panels lacked the scars of others, and the signs of recent fights were clear, by the smell of the place.

Anti-toxin leaves a certain stink in the air. The hell happened here?

"Lost the guy before you to the fear of it." The Chief started as he lead Eric into what looked like a supply and maintenance room combined with a barracks, and an armory. "He was a reservist. Passed all his mental exams."

"They aren't enough, these days." Eric interrupted. "Nothing a person can do to another without actually trying to kill them to prepare them for those things."

"Right." The Chief nods. "Anyway, Boot lets the damn things push through after him, and we damn near have to call in the Feds."

"Geez, any tenants leave?" Eric asks as he looks over the equipment. Decon-gear, combat harnesses, and rotary saws; the Chief had plenty more than just shotguns down here.

"HA!" The Old man barked. "You think you're floors the only one with Bad Ass Bessie's? Pfft." He waved Eric off as he pulled for a suit sized for himself. "Fucking half the building stacked up to clear out the shit stain's fuck up."

"He let it go that bad." Eric grabbed a suit and started donning it, and sealing up.

"Oh yeah, kid didn't know half of what he was doing." The old man sighed. "Figured it a day before so I got to scrambling the who's who." The Chief's voice now echoed from the sealed suit he was wearing. He picked up a beaten up motion sensor and pulled a heavy hand gun with a stock and a drum magazine from the arsenal. "Grab whatever ya like.

Eric liked a hefty, snub barreled, shotgun, and a bandoleer of shells. He also grabbed a long bowie knife and stuffed it into a sheath on the suit.

"Alright." The Chief nodded as Eric stacked up behind him. "Time to show you how the other boot drops." They stood before a heavy set of sealed doors, stained with ichor and battle scars. The Chief punched in a third code, and the doors slide open, as an alarm blared above their heads.

