Crisis Management

CRISIS MANAGEMENT

By Katharine Sexkitten

COMMAND:

Alright everybody, we are back at HORN/CON ONE. I need a status report from all departments! Heart?

HEART:

Returning to normal operating levels, Skipper. Almost back, should be any second. But that was some fierce strain we were under, for quite a long time. We were pushing limits.

COMMAND:

Copy that. Lungs?

LUNGS:

Same. Helluva workout there, for a while, but all components performed to above expectations, even considering the unplanned-for levels of activity, and we're as close to reset as makes no difference.

COMMAND:

Good. Internal organs?

INTERNAL ORGANS:

Lots of shock, but nothing devastating to report. No significant damage overall, but we took some serious strain at Colon and Anus.

COMMAND:

How bad?

INTERNAL ORGANS:

Colon took repeated prolonged action, waves of intense pressure, over and above the norms, it got pushed around a lot, a hell of a beating, but we survived it. Took a huge blast in the process, so it`s as wet as a lake inside. Anus, well, that's a different story. We took a shit-kicking there.

COMMAND:

Are we still operable?

INTERNAL ORGANS:

Roger that, Skip. We'd prefer not to have to, but inbound or outbound, we can handle it if need be. Just throwing it out there, we are talking about a ring that's as sore as almighty hell.

COMMAND:

Copy that. Extremeties?

EXTREMETIES:

Legs took the brunt of the punishment, especially thighs, being bent back for so long and having so much weight pounded on them over and over again, same as buttocks, but it's nothing a little R&R wouldn't fix.

COMMAND:

Yeah, well, I can't predict what'll happen next, so be ready.

EXTREMETIES:

Roger that.

COMMAND:

Penis? Testicles?

PENIS:

We're out of commission, Skipper. Completely spent. Balls are empty, the vas are dry. That orgasm-event we just went through was the biggest yet, the biggest complete team effort yet. Totally new levels of exertion, nothing we ever imagined back in basic. We weren't prepared for it, or trained for it. I doubt we'll be back to readiness for hours, maybe days.

COMMAND:

Even though you weren't technically in action?

PENIS:

Affirmative. Prostate was totally annihilated. Over-run and overwhelmed. It was like being hit by a bus, again and again and again and again. The detonation was off-the-charts, completely draining. We're going to need to have some serious after-action discussions about levels of preparedness for the future. Hell, this rewrites every S. O. P in the manual that we all got on day one at the academy.

COMMAND:

Copy. Skin?

SKIN:

Never better.

COMMAND:

No? Nothing adverse to the envelope to report at all?

SKIN:

Total opposite, boss. Skin has never been better, ever.

COMMAND:

Explain.

SKIN:

We've just never felt better. We've never felt so alive. The changes in just the last two hours were completely unpredicted. None of this was previously thought about, in all the planning or practical experience. All those years, never dreamed of. First, the shaving, from the neck down. Not once on the radar, and it totally pinned the sensitivity meters, all in the red.

COMMAND:

That much?

SKIN:

Huge, Skip. And as unparalleled as that felt, those levels actually got surpassed, like they were standing still, when you gave the command to wear the lingerie.

COMMAND:

That was the group decision made after consultation with all the stakeholders, although it wasn't unanimous. You yourself were strongly against it, as I recall.

SKIN:

Mea culpa. We were wrong. The panties are like silk, boss, so considering our new smoothness they're beyond anything we've dealt with before. We'll need completely new scales to record the pleasure; we're going to have to rewire all the instruments just to measure results. And when we added the bra to the mix, and the stockings, and the dress and the shoes, those sent the needles off the charts. Total distortion. And yeah, the dress and the panties got pulled off near the beginning of the engagement, but the stockings and bra are still on, and there is nothing but extraordinary satisfaction registering, so unexpected and yet so staggering. Even now, after the battle, at rest, we are still miles above our former normal levels of joy.

CHEST:

Skipper, chest here. I can confirm that. Nipples have never been so enflamed and at attention. Recommend continuing this new status quo until further notice.

COMMAND:

Keep the new uniform on? I don't understand, Chest, you were dead-set against the idea.

CHEST:

You live, you learn, Skip. I think you'd have a mutiny on your hands if you decide to take these lacy things off. I'll let pleasure center speak for himself, of course, but pecs and nipples might revolt if you take away this whole new support system. Just the feeling of the straps alone is so unique and foreign to us, and none of us want to risk losing what we've only recently discovered. We're talking paradigm-shift here.

COMMAND:

Copy. Skin? Anything else you need to add, now's the time.

SKIN:

More.

COMMAND:

More?

SKIN:

Give us more, that's what we want. More of the silk, more of the satin, more of the soft. Every day, all day. You do that, you'll never hear a complaint from us ever again.

COMMAND:

Fair enough. Face?

FACE:

Lips and tongue are tired, near exhaustion, but remain usable. All other components are operating normally. Taste buds are the same as skin, boss, they'll need complete recalibration on the meters, the sooner the better.

COMMAND:

How so, face?

FACE:

I can't tell you what stomach thinks about the intake, but taste buds are just flat-out beyond satisfied. They weren`t prepared, for either the amount of the deluge or the immediate shocking effect. During initial planning, we presumed that lips and tongue would be our area of biggest concern, getting the most work, and they did get a lot, no question, between all the kissing and then the sucking. But no amount of training could have prepared for the length and thickness of the guys cock, boss, never having done it before, nor could we have predicted the longevity of the episode, the guy lasting so long, and at the end of it taste buds got hit hard and heavy, volume-wise and more importantly taste-wise.

COMMAND:

Understood. What is the consensus now that it's happened and it's over?

FACE:

Same as skin. More.

COMMAND:

More? Really? You were completely opposed to it, you argued louder than anybody against the idea of sucking a cock and then swallowing anything! And now you want more?

FACE:

More. More action, more sucking, more licking, more kissing, and more cum. More of it, Skip. All day, every day. We never planned on liking it at all, we were actually dead-set against it, you're right. Four decades of training had been drilled into us that it was wrong, on so many levels, for lots of intellectual and societal and religious reasons that Brain would be better at explaining, but all I can tell you now is that that taste, that one-of-a-kind taste, the combination of elements, salty, creamy, nutty, not to mention the unusual consistency, well, we can still taste it, and we want more.

STOMACH:

Us too, Skipper!

COMMAND:

Who said that? Was that you, stomach?

STOMACH:

Affirmative. That first taste, Skipper, it shattered the HORN/CON.

COMMAND:

What do you mean, Stomach?

STOMACH:

Up until today, HORN/CON FIVE was the highest level science thought we could achieve. It was studied and analyzed for years, and then confirmed during multiple actions over the years with the presumed combatants, the opposing gender. HORN/CON FIVE was considered to be the ultimate, and unbreakable. So we're as surprised as you are, but the numbers don't lie, Skipper. Looking at the readouts right now, and according to the timeline, when that first rope of jism slithered its way down to here, we registered a HORN/CON of SEVEN.

COMMAND:

SEVEN!?! Is that even humanly possible?

BRAIN:

I can confirm that. The after-action data I'm reading right now shows multiple level breakthroughs of that old standard ceiling, all over the body. Stomach was a SEVEN, Heart and Lungs were both a bump over SIX, Skin and Extremities were just under SIX. We're still compiling the data for up here, because there are multiple sub-sections to go through.

COMMAND:

What about Penis and Anus? What were their numbers?

BRAIN:

Penis was a solid EIGHT DOT ONE, at the peaks.

COMMAND:

Peaks? Did you say peaks? As in, plural?

BRAIN:

Affirmative. Penis experienced multiple orgasm horizons.

SKIN:

Skin confirms that, Command. Belly is as wet as hell, soaked in the outputs from Penis. It's like a lake down here.

BRAIN:

Skipper, the numbers for Anus are off-the-deep-end. Without a completely new re-write of the scale, best guess is Anus was close to TEN.

COMMAND:

HORN/CON TEN!?!

BRAIN:

Most of that centered in Prostate.

ANUS:

But not all of it, Command. Despite the furious pounding we absorbed, some of it downright difficult, if not completely fucking onerous, we registered a HORN/CON NINE POINT EIGHT, more than once.

COMMAND:

Alright, copy that, Anus.

BRAIN:

Should have numbers for you from up here momentarily, Skip.

COMMAND:

Okay, before we hear from Brain, anybody else have anything to add on their status?

TOES:

Toes here! As of two seconds ago we are now fully un-scrunched and reset to norm.

COMMAND:

Only now? The engagement ended a few minutes ago.

TOES:

Boss, we were scrunching from the get-go, from the first touch of the panties on Skin, at almost full-bore, and that only grew more and more through the foreplay and then blowing the guy and then the penetration and the prolonged engagement. We were so scrunched we went into total cramp when Prostate exploded, so it's not a big surprise that it took this long to loosen up. Our tendons will be sore for a while, but there's no long-term damage.

BRAIN:

Okay, Skip, I've got the numbers.

COMMAND:

Finally. Okay, Brain, shoot.

BRAIN:

Overall average in Brain was HORN/CON NINE DOT FOUR. By department, Frontal Lobe was at a SIX DOT FOUR, except for speech, which lost all function other than grunting. Parietal Lobe was near ELEVEN, taking the bulk of the hit in touch and pain. Temporal Lobe was just over SEVEN. Occipital hardly over FIVE, but that's because Eyes were rolled back and closed most of the time. Cerebellum for some reason didn't register at all, which is a glitch we'll need to fix, but things like balance controls and fine motor skills didn't enter into play at all anyway, what with the guy laying on us and pinning us down. Stem went bat-shit crazy and topped out at almost TWELVE, but that's just the breathing and heart rate info we already know.

COMMAND:

Agreed. Anything else?

BRAIN:

Yeah, Skip. The numbers from Deeper Functions are huge. Thalamus relays sensory signals and it overloaded seconds into the engagement. Hypothalamus controls hormones, temperature, hunger, and thirst, and those numbers are all still higher than a kite. Hippocampus has so many new memories it's crashing its own server and dumping stored data by the bucket-load. And holy fucking shit, boss, Amygdala, which as everyone here knows processes emotions and fear, it hit HORN/CON THIRTEEN. I repeat. Amygdala hit HORN/CON THIRTEEN. Emotions have been completely rewired; neural pathways are destroyed and re-forming in completely new associations. At the very first sign of encounter, Fear was possibly closer to a FOURTEEN.

COMMAND:

Jesus have mercy. I knew we were frightened, but that much?

BRAIN:

We were scared shitless up here at the start, that's why we kept voicing objections, as loud as we could, but not too long after the engagement began fear just up and disappeared, which I gotta say is something we find curious.

COMMAND:

Conclusions, Brain?

BRAIN:

If I had to guess, Skipper, I'd say that when Prostate first started taking fire, right about the same time Penis had the first peak and orgasm horizon, we didn't need fear anymore.

COMMAND:

Okay. So, we're at HORN/CON ONE. Engagement is over. What is our positioning now?

BRAIN:

Foetal, on our right side.

COMMAND:

And where is the enemy? What's radar saying?

BRAIN:

We're not back online with that yet. Everything up here just got pummelled, Skip, so the reboot in some areas is taking longer than others.

COMMAND:

Okay, copy that. Anyone have any after-action recommendations formulated already?

PENIS:

Boss, Penis here.

COMMAND:

Go, Penis.

PENIS:

What we immediately know is that the cross-over between Anus and Prostate and Testicles and Penis was record-breaking in this engagement. We just shattered all the precedents and all the norms. That needs further study, so all departments can have a better understanding of these new potentials.

COMMAND:

Agreed, Penis. How would you suggest we move forward?

PENIS:

Well, at the risk of pissing off other departments, the only way that we can see to gain more data is to participate in more engagements.

HEART:

Whoa whoa whoa! Do you have any idea how much stress I went through?

LUNGS:

Us too!

PENIS:

C'mon. You guys heard Brain. I'm not denying the seriousness of what happened to you, but you guys were a HORN/CON SIX, right? We were over EIGHT! You guys make it sound like you're the injured party here? We took it harder and longer than you did, and I'm still saying we need to do more.

HEART:

But we're vital functions! You're not!

PENIS:

Up until a few minutes ago, I would have agreed with you, Heart. But now, I'd say everything has changed. I'd say the overwhelming majority of the body wants to do all that again and again and again. I'd even go so far as to suggest that we are on that list of 'vital' organs now, maybe even at the top.

HEART:

WHAT?!?!? Are you kidding me? Are you actually so arrogant as to think that you make the list? That you're vital for continued existence? THAT'S ABSURD!

PENIS:

Is it?

BRAIN:

Pleasure center strongly disagrees with you, Heart. Considering the extent of the effects of the lingerie and the sex, there's a very strong argument that Penis is correct, it is vital, and not just for waste disposal anymore.

PENIS:

We may even be the most vital, now. We could very well be THE most important. There's a strong possibility that from this moment, going forward, whatever we want will dictate everybody else's actions. The orgasm horizons that we experienced changed everything, from stem to stern, and that genie ain't going back in the bottle, not now, not ever.

COMMAND:

Point taken, Penis. Alright, who else?

BRAIN:

HOLD ON! Pleasure center just ramped back up, for some reason. Gimme a second to figure out why.

COMMAND:

Copy, Brain. Let me know when...

BRAIN:

ALL SYSTEMS ALERT! ALL SYSTEMS ALERT! INCOMING! INCOMING! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

COMMAND:

What the hell's going on?

BRAIN:

We've detected the enemy advancing from behind.

SKIN:

Touching! We're being touched again!

COMMAND:

Where? Where? Is the attack offensive?

SKIN:

Skin here! He's put his hand on left buttock, and, umm, and... oooh, yeah... oh, he's caressing... mmmm... oh... it's just caressing, so, no... no... not offensive, Skip, mmmm... that's not offensive at all... mmmm... no, not at... OH GOD! MMMMM.... s-o-o-o nice. That feels s-o-o-o nice. WAIT! THERE'S MORE! Back is now reporting full contact with enemy's frontal movements, chest and belly... MMMM... subject is warm, his skin a little bit sweaty... almost sticky... so delicious... and... POKING! POKING!! Very hard cock now poking at left buttock! OH! NOW SLIPPING INTO CRACK!!

COMMAND:

Does this guy really want to go again?!?! So soon?!?!?

BRAIN:

All stations, PREPARE FOR ENGAGEMENT!

COMMAND:

Belay that order! Who the hell is giving out that order?

BRAIN:

Pleasure center, Skip. It won't take no for an answer.

COMMAND:

I am the senior officer in charge! You tell them that...

SKIN:

KISSING!!! KISSING!!! HE'S KISSING NECK AND EARLOBE!!! SOFT KISSES!!!

HEART:

We're already moving up to HORN/CON FOUR, boss, in a big fucking hurry.

LUNGS:

Us too!

PENIS:

MY GOD!! WE'RE HARDENING! REPEAT! WE'RE HARDENING!!! WE JUST WENT FROM TOTALLY OUT OF COMMISSION TO TOTAL ERECTION IN LESS THAN A SECOND!!!

COMMAND:

Is there any department that objects to this? Tell me now, before it's too late!!! ANUS????

ANUS:

Like I said, we took a shit-kicking down here, we're raw and enflamed and HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT!!! COCK IS NOW POSITIONED IN THE ENTRANCE!!! I REPEAT!!! COCK IS NOW POSITIONED IN... AAAWWWWW!!! WE ARE TAKING A DIRECT HIT!!!!

COMMAND:

Are we breached?

ANUS:

OHHHHHHHGAWWWWDDDDD! OHHHMMM! AFFIRMATIVE!!! AFFIRMATIVE!!! WE ARE BREACHED, WE ARE TAKING COCK INSIDE!!!

COMMAND:

HOW FAR? CAN WE CLENCH AND REPEL IT?

PROSTATE:

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! DON'T YOU DARE!!!

BRAIN:

Skipper, recommend shutting down again. Just like the first time, all the equipment is going haywire, in every department. The HORN/CON is useless, we should just consider it destroyed. Bottom line, we're gonna get fucked, boss, and you and I both know it. Might as well turn off all the controls and enjoy the ride.

COMMAND:

(SIGH)

EARS:

Command! Ears here. He's whispering to us.

COMMAND:

What's he saying?

EARS:

He's asking if we want it or not. He said he thinks we're so sexy, so effing sexy, and that... wait... okay, he just said the first time was fucking but this time we're going to make love... repeat, we're going to make love! But he won't do it unless we tell him that we want it. He's saying he wants us to say it out loud.

COMMAND:

All departments! Do we want this? Report!

HEART:

Go!

LUNGS:

That's a go!

INTERNAL ORGANS:

Go here too!

EXTREMETIES:

Hoo-ah! Let's do it!

PENIS:

GO! GO! GO!

ANUS:

LET'S DO THIS!!!

BRAIN:

I think it's unanimous, Skip.

COMMAND:

Okay, okay, you're right. Mouth?

MOUTH:

Sir?

COMMAND:

On my command. Repeat. On my command.

Say YES!

THE END