Firewave Stories (1 Viewer)

[osw]

Stories in the Firewave setting, some written with help of AI.

 

[osw]

1. Office Break
Three young women of the Firewave criminal organization guarded this safehouse deep in the woods. They wore the uniform of Firewave combat agents, a green one piece swimsuit with optional gray skirt and short jacket. They also had long fingerless gloves, leggings revealing their toes and heels.

The two guards standing on either side of the front door, one muscular woman with black hair and blue eyes, and her teenage partner had brown hair and hazel eyes.

They were armed with Mac 11 machine pistols, Firewave’s favorite weapon. Though, today they didn’t expect any action.

Behind them, in the main hall of the house was an array of surveillance equipment, including several monitors showing cameras monitoring the area around the house. The other room housed a large number of shelves containing various kinds of drugs, alcohol and tobacco. The third female guard, curly dark hair and green eyes, was doing inventory. She wore a swimsuit with a skirt, but she styled herself to not show off her legs or feet as much as her colleagues. She kept herself modestly covered up except for when necessary, such as when working out.

Agent Milan identified all three through a telescope. Her mission was to capture the equipment, and neutralize all resistance with lethal force. She readied her silenced pistol and knife, then left her hiding position. She moved silently through the forest, taking care to avoid making noise.

The girls from the front door would circle the house from time to time, taking short breaks to catch their breath and gaze around. If something happened, there'd be no warning. Each guard carried a radio connected to the main security center so they could alert someone if anything went wrong.

Milan took these precautions into account. The security center would be empty until the third guard finish her inventory work. She reached the back side of the house without any trouble, and made sure no one was watching before she jumped the fence. There weren't any cameras to the back here anyway.

When she got to the security center, she checked the room's contents and found it was all operational. She inserted a bugged USB drive to the main computer. Now, she can take out the guard in the storeroom then deal with the other two later. It will be easier if I don’t let the enemy hear my footsteps, she thought and took off her hiking boots.

Slowly, she opened the storeroom door, knife in hand. The young woman was not looking in her direction, but she held a crate of bottles in her hands. Milan waited for her to put the crate down before tackling her from behind, knife to her throat.

The girl looked up at her, surprised. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm going to ask you some questions," said Milan. "If you resist, you're gonna die. You understand?"

The girl nodded.

"First question," said Milan. "How long have you set this up?”

"About half a year," answered the girl. "The plan was to buy the patch of land downstream, we watch for competitors."

"Does any of your members live in the safehouse?"

"No," she replied. "This is just our base of operations.”

"And how many people outside your organization know about this safehouse?" asked Milan.

"No one," she replied. "Our members aren't allowed to tell anyone."

Milan felt the Firewave girl reach for something beneath her skirt. The girl had hidden a gun in her underwear. Milan raised her knife to cut the girl's throat. However, the Firewave member pulled her hand away from her panties just in time and instead grabbed Milan’s pistol.

“I’ve warned you.” Milan kneed the girl between her legs, and whispered. The girl whimpered in pain, then her windpipe was pinched tight by Milan’s hand. The girl struggled wildly, but Milan had her pinned tight.

"What's the point in resisting?" Milan asked. "You won't get anywhere."

She gave a tight squeezenon the guard’s windpipe. Milan pulled out her silenced pistol, put it against the girl's head and pulled the trigger. The bullet flew straight through the skull and hit a sack of tobacco behind her.

“Sorry." Milan told the corpse, a puddle forming between whose legs.

Milan searched the body, finding a small wallet in her jacket pocket. She took the ID card inside the wallet, taking a glance at the name: Juana Farley.

Time to take out the two remaining guards. She went back to the main hall and saw the brown haired guard on breakoutside an open window. When she approached the guard, she heard her humming a song.

"Hey!" whispered Milan. The guard stopped humming and looked up at her. She was startled and dropped her machine pistol.

"Don't move," ordered Milan.

"Who are you?" asked the guard.

"I'm the one that killed your friend over there." She pointed to the dead girl lying in the storeroom.

"Oh! How did you—"

"Lean back, let your head come in the window.” Milan told her. Then she leaned over and took a hold of the guard’s neck with one hand.

"Okay, okay," the guard said, leaning back.

"Now hold still and close your eyes."

Milan put the barrel of her gun next to the guard's temple. She pulled the trigger.

The guard jerked once, then fell limp, her corpse falling into the room head first.

“You wouldn’t survive prison.”

One last guard remaining.

The girl with black hair and blue eyes hurried to the security center after not seeing her partner. Milan was waiting for her, pistol raised: “They’re all dead. You should surrender.”

The girl froze, then turned and ran. Where could she go to?

Milan chased her, firing bullets into the ground and trees. She fired a few more shots to keep the girl running. Milan followed the sound of her target’s footsteps through the woods. Suddenly, the Firewave girl dived into a small creek. She tried to swim with the currents, but they pushed her into some rocks.

Milan dove forward into the water, and grabbed the girl by the waist with one hand. With the other hand she held her arms tightly, pinning them to her sides. The girl struggled, kicking and screaming, but Milan simply pressed harder, tightening her grip.

"Enough!" she shouted as the girl began crying.

The guard finally relented and shut her eyes. Milan let go of her, knocking her out on one of the rocks, then she sat on the edge of the creek bank.

"Come here," she said, pulling the unconscious girl onto her lap. Notably, the chase and struggle in cold water has made her nipples stand out beneath the swimsuit.

An idea forming In Milan‘s head, she took off her own wet clothing. She gave the girl a kiss, then gently rubbed her ample breasts. The girl moaned softly as Milan kissed her neck. She kissed her lips, then stuck her tongue in her mouth. The guard trembled under Milan's touch, her body shivering.

Milan pulled off the guard’s Firewave swimsuit down to the navel, then she straddled the unconscious girl. Some sexy relaxation for all the trouble in this mission. Milan hugged the girl tightly, kissing her neck again.

“Hahaha... Ahh..." The guard groaned quietly, moaning even louder when Milan licked her neck.

Milan caressed the girl's muscular ass and pressed her groin against her. The guard moaned and squirmed, rubbing her crotch against Milan's.

Milan moved up to the girl's breasts, grabbing them both with her hands. She squeezed them roughly, causing the woman to cry out in pleasure. Milan felt a need to see more of the girl's body, so she lowered her face towards the girl's stomach. She gave a soft lick on her belly button, then she sucked her navel into her mouth. The girl twitched and moaned as Milan caressed her breasts with one hand while using the other to massage her clit with her thumb, through the swimsuit. Her hips bucked and her breathing became heavy. The guard was getting horny from Milan’s expert touch.

Milan removed her hand from the girl's pussy and placed it between her thighs. She pushed two fingers into her wet slit, feeling her juices flowing freely. She started fingering the girl vigorously, then shoved her pinkie finger into her anus. The guard cried out loudly, shuddering violently, cumming all over Milan's hand.

 

[osw]

Seems to be a text length issue?

Office Break (continued)

The guard panted, still unconscious, her face flush red. Milan wiped the girl's fluids off her hand and off her chest, then she stood up. She took a quick look at her watch; it was time to recover the data and call for evacuation. What should she do with the knocked out Firewave girl?

Leave her here? Take her back? Finish her off?

The girl stirred slightly while lying on the rock. Milan watched her, wondering whether or not she should bother waking her up.

Then suddenly, the guard sat up.

"Wha?!"

Milan leapt back, covering her mouth with her hand. The guard turned around and saw Milan standing there, startled by her sudden movement. Then, she looked at her own exposed breasts, and sore womanhood.

"Ahhh!" she screamed, raising a fist. "You touched me there! You kissed me there!"

"Calm down," said Milan.

"I can't calm down," she sobbed. Her nipples rock hard and her tanned skin red all over from excitement.

Milan looked the guard in the eyes. "If you don't want to be hurt, you shouldn't scream like that."

"But why did you do that?" she asked.

"Because I'm a woman," Milan said, smiling.

The guard smiled back, then grabbed Milan's hand. "So you're a lesbian?"

"Is that all?"

"Are you gonna finish me off now?"

“Do you think I will say no? I’m not done yet.” Milan knelt down again, moving her right hand between the girl's thighs. The girl moaned, her thighs parting as Milan's fingers entered her wet pussy.

The Firewave woman screamed, thrashing around in Milan's arms, while her new orgasm shook her entire body. Her knee rubbed against Milan’s groin just right, too. The agent began to feel a familiar throbbing in her loins, and knew that she would soon climax herself.

"A-ahh!" she screamed. "Yes! Yes!”

Milan fell on top of the girl, their bodies sweaty and hot. The guard kept moaning, her body writhing from Milan's ministrations. Milan smiled as she came, enjoying the warm pleasure of her spasming muscles.

Time for sex was over, now to finish the business. Milan got up off the girl and put her clothes on.

The Firewave girl laid there, resigned to her fate, waiting. She didn't care anymore and was ready for whatever punishment Milan wanted to give her.

”Let’s talk about your job, what was Firewave planning to do with the patch of land you were watching?"

"Leadership planned to build a resort to make some extra cash, and hire members’ families." The girl answered with the honesty of pillow talk in a soft voice.

”Were you here when Firewave made the land deal? Did you see who brought the money?”

“It was Miss Blanco.“

Milan took out her knife, then paused: “What’s your name?”

“Irma,” said the girl.

“The girl with brown hair, what’s she called?”

"Luna," Irma answered.

"Okay, I will remember to write it down in my report. Are you ready to die?”

"I guess so," said the girl.

“Put your swimsuit back on first, make yourself comfortable.” Milan told her.

"Would that make it easier for you?"

"Yes," she replied. "But I don't want to see your naked body when you die. Your breasts are beautiful, but I've already seen them once."

Irma did as she was told. She lay down next to a rock and covered her breasts with her hands, legs spread wide open without a care. Milan went over and knelt down, running her fingers through the girl's wet hair. She looked straight into her eyes, then aimed the knife at her heart.

"Don't move," Milan said.

Irma exhaled, knowing that death was near. Milan struck her deep into the chest with the sharp blade and kept it in position. The girl gasped for air as blood burst from her wound. Milan held her hand, watched her eyes roll and loose focus, waited until she stopped breathing before removing the knife.

“There.” She kissed the dead girl on the forehead. "Sleep well."

She left the girl laying there in the forest, dressed only in her swimsuit, then washed her hands and face in the stream.

 

[osw]

Turns out novelAI was better at writing body handling and playing than expected. Most of this story is written by the AI, would experiment more later.

2. Irma Aftermath

Nurse Linda needs to put clothing onto the muscular young woman’s naked corpse, to make her presentable before returning to her family. She has a box of clothes provided by a charity, but she can't bring herself to dress this girl; she doesn't know why.

She walks up and down the room, looking at the body lying there on the bed. The girl, her name Irma Sanchez, was beautiful: Tanned skin, long dark hair, blue eyes, full breasts with perfectly-shaped nipples, flat and firm stomach, slim waist. She looks as if she's just fallen asleep after sex, if not for the clean stab wound below her heart. Nurse Linda feels a sudden urge to touch her breasts and feel them in her hands. Should she do it? Will they be soft or hard, warm or cold? She begins to shake slightly, which is a bad sign because she is supposed to remain calm and professional at all times when dealing with patients.

This dead girl wasn’t a patient, though, she was a criminal killed in action, delivered by the police. A little touchy feels should be proper punishment.

For a moment she stands over the girl, staring. It seems to her that the girl is looking back at her too. It's only an illusion, but still she shivers.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, then extends her arms to feel over the corpse, to measure her sizes before choosing the clothes of course. "We have so many lovely clothes here for you."

Irma does look like a model, even naked. This could be the perfect cover-up story for what she is about to do, fashion design for a girl who died as a gang member, without glamor.

The first clothing she picked for the dead girl’s skin tone had good color and style, but they were the wrong size. Too tight around the breasts. She takes a deep breath, calming herself down, trying to focus on work. She will get through this.

With her fingers, Linda touches the girl's tanned skin. She feels the smoothness, the hardness of the muscles underneath, feeling their texture. Then she reaches out to caress one breast. It is soft with its last warmth, not at all stiff as she expected. An enjoyable feel, a comfortable reward for finding out the right cup size.

She places a hand on the other breast, feeling the shape and texture.

"Aah, damn," she whispers, breathing harder than usual. Her knees weaken, threatening to give way under her. Her fingers twitched, accidentally gave a light pinch to the corpse’s nipples. She takes a step backwards, steadying herself against the wall.

Her mind races with thoughts of this girl, not just any girl, this girl. She had been arrested many times on violent crimes, and now she's dead, stabbed in a fight with a female police agent. Still, she was sexy and lovely in a natural way.

Nurse Linda closes her eyes, trying to keep herself composed. She wants to do this job well, but she can't let go of these feelings. It makes her think about her own beauty, how she would never end up in prison, probably not even arrested for anything more serious than speeding.

She feels her face flush red, a hot embarrassment rising inside her. She collected her resolve, and leaned over to kiss the Irma on the cheek. Not a quick peck, but a real kiss. A full mouth kiss, lingering for several seconds. She felt something strange in her head, maybe some kind of high from kissing a dead girl.

The dead girl’s eyes were still open, Linda didn’t mind being watched anymore. She went on to kiss the girl on her right nipple. It was the sort of sensation that made her want to bite down. Instead, she just pulled the girl's chest closer to her own.

Her fingers trailed down, feeling the dead girl's stomach, hips and thighs. Needs a good handful to know her bottom size. Linda continues to fondle the athletic dead girl, touching every inch of her. She goes lower, her fingers now exploring the girl's pubic area, where she finds a large, hard clit between the folds of skin.

Linda sighed, pulled off her own panties as she was feeling dangerously hot. She rubs her pussy, remembering the dead girl's scent, the way she tasted.

It's getting difficult to control her emotions. She's not supposed to be enjoying this much.

"What am I doing?" she murmurs, torn between pleasure and guilt. "I shouldn't be... this is wrong."

Irma lay lifelessly, but that did nothing to stop nurse Linda from playing with her corpse. She now found it impossible to resist. Her fingers explored the dead girl's ass, feeling the firmness of her cheeks.

Linda finally pressed forward and kissed the dead girl once more. She used her tongue to explore the dead girl's mouth, tasting her lips, feeling her tongue. Fortunately, the water hosing she applied to the corpse was very through, and no scent of blood remained.

She reached a hand down, feeling the dead girl's legs. They were thick and powerful, unlike her own. The dead girl's legs spread wider than her own.

Her fingers returned to her own pussy, and this time she rubbed them in slow circles. Just a few moments longer.

She ran her hand down to the girl's thigh, feeling the muscle. Her hands began to tremble again, and she chose to give in to the temptation at the first chance.

"Ahh, fuck!" she moans into the dead girl's ear. Nurse Linda kisses the girl's neck, then lifted herself just in time to avoid leaving a hickey. The family would not expect such a parting gift.

She took a minute to collect herself, then went back to the clothing box. She had to choose another outfit for the girl, one that wouldn't attract attention. One that might even fool someone.

A tight white dress covered in sequins seemed ideal for this mission. It would make the dead girl look innocent, and the style was popular among working class girls. What about shoes, heels or sandals?

She took out a pair of low pumps, not very fancy, but they matched the dress. Sadly, they were not the right shape and the skin on the dead girl’s feet was too rough. Not a fit.

There was also a pair of cheap and nasty heels from a discount store. Too trashy, a pair of modest beach sandals next to them looked good. She tried those on, and found them suitable.

"Perfect," she said. "You're ready for your photo shoot, my dear."

As a bonus, Linda wanted to dress the Irna in good underwear too. She died in a one piece swimsuit with her nipples sticking through, can’t remind people of this on the funeral. A string bikini works best, right?

She grabbed a simple two-piece set with thin straps, matching the color of the girl's skin tone. She pulled it over the girl's head, and fastened it at her waist. It was loose fitting, but she thought it'd look fine. The strings on the bottom piece snapped when she put it on. She sighed, then remembered her own discarded panties. The dead girl wore a similar size to herself. Maybe she could use them?

Yes, it was a good fit, and an even better parting gift for this chance encounter. Now, time to put on the dress and sandals.

With the dress draped over her arm, Linda walked to the dead girl. She stopped briefly to take a final picture of her with her phone camera, from head to toe. She made sure to capture a close-up of her face, eyes closed, with a slight smile.

"Goodbye, pretty lady," she whispered.

Irma was given some final makeup. Linda applied a pink lipstick, then added a little blush. Her eyebrows were also shaded darker, to match her skin tone. Lastly, she tied the corpse’s loose hair into a tidy ponytail.