FSE

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Unaware that his own daughter was literally masturbating to the thought of him, Steven Richards would have actually preferred to be dealing with that issue, as forbidden and twisted as it might come across.

It was a lot safer than his current task, and if he knew the way that his daughter felt, he'd be able to find a way to let her down easy. Dealing with emotional struggles was never an issue for someone who had taken so many long walks with death by his side, and in truth, he had trouble sympathizing with people who had perfectly nice lives, but still complained about small, petty problems...even when those people were his own children.

He made a note to try and be a better father, before setting his mind back to the mission at hand. His lungs took in a full, deep breath, and in the darkness of the middle of the night, he used a very simple magic to cloak the sound of his shoes carrying across the grass, so that none of the guards around the milking plant would be able to hear him.

All of his time, all of his effort, and all of his research were leading up to this moment, and Steven couldn't decide if he was filled with regret over putting his family in danger, or if he was relieved to know that he was finally going to have his chance to take down whoever was in charge of the operation.

The farm and milking plant were nothing more than a front, and Steven already knew that. His boss made it clear in their mission briefing that Steven wasn't to engage the scientists, or anyone who was being forced into the project against their will, but with his family on the line, Steven didn't have the same feelings of sympathy for the innocent that he normally would.

He'd killed innocent people before, as part of the means to an end. Now that he was finally within reach of the facility, he wasn't sure that he'd be able to keep from using the pistol that was hidden in a holster, tied snug to his chest.

"Entry was not detected...repeat, not detected. Large, barbed wire fence surrounds entire field behind the bottling plant up front. I'm traversing the farm now."

Scaling the fence, even with the coils of barbed wire at the top, was no real struggle for an experienced agent. Steven laughed at the memory of his daughter's jab, when she suggested that he was just throwing sawdust on piles of puke. She was still convinced that he was just a janitor for a high end company, and that his employment there was just gainful enough to get past the shame of being a lifelong custodian.

He hoped that one day, he'd be able to tell her the whole truth of what he really did, and how exciting his life was, even if it came at a terrible cost.

"Farm is mostly deserted," Steven whispered into a small recording device. "There's a large building in the back here...stereotypical Midwestern barn. Gonna sneak inside and see if that's where the magic happens."

He was going to send the tapes back to headquarters as soon as he finished the mission, in the hopes that the topography experts would be able to draw up a map of the place based on his descriptions. If they could contain the messier part of a battle to just the farm, they'd be able to minimize innocent casualties, and that thought alone was a large load off of Steven's mind.

His body was being tested more directly, as he had to take quick, choppy steps to avoid sinking into any of the mud that was settling across the fields. Though not in the traditional sense, the land he was standing on really was a farm, and soft, planting soil was all over the place, creating what would have normally been just a mild inconvenience to the seasoned agent. Maintaining a silence spell was a struggle when he was busy trying to trudge through the mud, however, and he was relieved when his boots planted on more solid ground.

There were two guards standing at the front door of the barn, but none standing by the windows. It felt like a massive security flaw, and Steven made sure to check the area behind him, wondering if he'd been set up; it would have been easy for the guards to trick him into taking the wrong entrance, if they knew he was coming.

None of the guards at their posts along the fence even flinched when he began pushing at the window, however, and Steven felt disbelief more than accomplishment when it slid right open for him. "Security is extremely lax. Guards everywhere, but they seem pretty mindless, and they're not heavily armed. A small assault team could bury this place in days."

Fingers clenched onto the ledge of the window as Steven pulled himself up as quietly as he could move. His eyes peeked over the ledge, and inside, he saw the typical contents of a barn: some old, rusted machinery, some stables where animals would rest when the weather was colder, and hay strewn about the floor in no particular pattern.

Among the hay, however, Steven was sure that he saw a handle in the floor, and not seeing any bodies in the barn, he jumped right in. He closed the window as silently as he could to cover his tracks and crept across the barn, maintaining his silence spell just long enough to drown out the heavy, rusted creeeeeeeak of a hidden door.

The handle settled against the concrete floor as Steven pulled it open, and though he wanted to take a little more time to assess his situation, he knew he was working on borrowed minutes. He stepped right in, heading down a set of stairs into the basement under the barn...and an area that was impossibly huge.

"Underground bunker discovered inside of barn. Area appears to stretch under the entire farm," Steven took a few more notes for his recording device as he tried to get a grasp of how far and wide the room really was. Lights dangled from the ceiling along old, troublesome wires, and the bulbs that burned upon them cast just enough light for one to be able to see to the edge of a corner, and no further. The set up was every bit as decrepit as it was creepy, and Steven had to gulp back his better judgment before he continued down the stairs.

There was a very small landing at the bottom of the stairs; an empty, concrete room that had literally nothing in it, and all sides were surrounded by walls, except for the path ahead. Steven took it, no longer worried about using the silencing spell to cover his tracks.

He didn't see anyone around from above, but the building had the feel of a cross-section: He could see all of the walls from his vantage point on the stairs, but it was like being able to gaze into a maze from above, and even just from that glance, he could see that he'd have to start making landmarks if he was ever going to make his way back out.

"Bunker is a maze of some kind," Steven explained. A quick survey of the area revealed it to be bland, at best: each of the walls were the same shade of gray, clearly cut from the same stone, and it seemed to do little more than create pointless hallways. "Creating markers on the walls to indicate paths already taken. If there's a milking facility, it's down here somewhere."

Ever ready and having survived far worse, Steven pulled a pocket knife from one of the small containers on his belt and etched the smallest insignia that he could upon a corner. To the naked eye, it would come across as normal erosion, helping Steven to keep a low profile as he wandered slowly through the mess of old walls and dimly lit hallways, leaving his other hand hovering over the handle of his pistol.

He'd give a question or two before he let the rounds fly, but Steven was struggling desperately with the inner voice that told him to extinguish the lives of everyone inside. They killed Hans...I'm sure they did. They don't deserve to be spared the same fate.

His inner monologue was distracted by the presence of a larger room, and it was refreshing to see something other than narrow, unconsecrated walls. "Small staging area," he whispered as quietly as he could to recording device, assuming that he had to be closer to prying ears at that point. "Shackles on the walls...empty, but recently used. Path goes right. Got a feeling this is what we've been looking for."

Steven took only a moment to examine one set of shackles, and they were still warm to the touch, heated either by human flesh, or perhaps, something a little less than human. Thinking only of revenge then, Steven kept his teeth in a tight grit and jogged quietly down the path to the right. He drew his gun from the holster, and as he turned one last corner, his jaw fell open in shock at what he saw.

A room that was a literal cesspool of depravity sat open in front of him. The lighting was just a little bit better there, though Steven immediately wished it was darker; creatures that were beyond the state of mere werewolves were shackled up to the walls, being milked from both their breasts and their cocks, their faces twisted up in an expression that Steven couldn't discern...it may have been pleasure, or it may have been terrible pain, but their bodies trembled and quaked as they were literally made to give all of their fluids to large collecting tanks.

Some of the luckier patients were being given sexual services for their output, and though they were also chained to the wall, Steven was able to creep a little further down the hall and see desperate, needy females bucking themselves against the males to drain them. Some of them appeared to be pregnant already, as their swollen bellies stuck out through the thick, heavy coats of fur upon them, and others still were clearly trying to become impregnated. Spilled, excess cum sat in puddles upon the floor in front of each male, and many of them were on the verge of passing out from the endless supply of females that they had to satiate.

It was all gut-wrenching for Steven to see, but his heart was ripped right from his chest when he inspected one of the females a bit more closely...still between a human and a werewolf, and now, a pregnant hermaphrodite...Agent Hans was being thrown around on the thick, vein-riddled cock of a horny male, reduced to little more than a slave for his enjoyment.

How Steven kept from unloading his entire clip into the room was a miracle beyond even his own reasoning, but keeping a cooler head proved useful, as he snuck to the very edge of the hallway, staying just outside of the view of anyone in the large room.

In the very middle of the room was a pit, and though Steven couldn't quite see all the way into it, the worst and most transformed of the mutants were kept there. There was an older woman approaching the edge of the pit, and with just one glance, Steven knew the curves of her face.

"Schafer is the ringleader," he uttered into his recording device, as she approached the edge of the pit with a trio of guards, and a prisoner. "My own neighbor is the one behind all of this..."

"I warned you once before about what happens to those who fail me," Steven overheard their conversation, as the guards brought the prisoner, a middle-aged man, to the edge of the pit. "Apparently, I didn't make my point clearly enough. Perhaps this will help you to learn a little obedience?"

All eyes were on the pit, and Steven used that to his advantage as he crept a little closer. Just at the edge, he could see a normal, but naked family of humans standing in the very center, trembling with nerves.

"No, no! Please, I'll do better next time! I swear!"

No amount of pleading or apologizing would sway Ms. Schafer, who gestured to the pit. The mutants within began slathering the poor family with a myriad of different fluids and chemicals, and within instants, their fates were sealed. Breasts and hips swelled with concerning speed, faces contorted and moved further and further away from proper humanity, and unnaturally thick fluids began to spill from every possible orifice as their human forms struggled to handle the intense, powerful chemicals that now controlled their thoughts and actions.

The mutants quickly moved on the women as they transformed, finding them to be far more attractive in their grotesque state. An orgy was quick to ensue, and Steven felt his insides churning as Ms. Schafer pushed the man in to join his family in their fate. "None of them are fit...we need a new host for the goddess...a proper host. The equinox is coming, gentlemen..."

Loyal guards escorted Ms. Schafer out of the room as the wet, messy sounds of a family embroiled in a twisted, forbidden orgy drowned out the rest of the tortured cries of captured individuals. Just a quick tap of his recording device was enough for Steven to capture some of the inhuman screams, and with only minutes to go before the sun came up, he snapped a few more pictures on his smart phone.

"You people need to listen to me, this time," Steven spoke, as he stepped away from the pit. There was a terrible, dark magic permeating the air, and though he assumed it to come from Ms. Schafer herself, there was no way that he could safely be sure. "We need to authorize a strike immediately. Fuck protocol. There are too many lives at stake...something big is getting ready to go down here."

He'd have only a week to convince his superiors that they needed to send a task force, and for some reason, Steven was worried that his pleas would be ignored.