SIDE Scolder and Mully

Special agents Scolder and Mully were once again getting stuck with the most boring duty that their superior could find for them. Today, while nearly one-quarter of all the agents in the country were concentrated in the area, busting down doors of suspected terrorists, they were going through the records of local doctors. Barbara and her drones had managed to destroy all records of patients and video surveillance at the hospital, so this was the best way to figure out who else may have been brainwashed by the cult at the hospital.

"The biggest case in our lifetimes, and we are stuck in a field office going over paperwork, I can't believe it," Scolder said.

"If you weren't constantly wasting the agency's time chasing swamp gas, it would be different," said Mully.

"They just want you to believe that it was swamp gas," said Scolder.

"For the last time, it WAS swamp gas, four times. I could be an expert on the stuff by now." Mully said, exasperated.

"Marsha Daniels, 32, car accident. Minor contusions... minor contusions, why would anyone be taken to a hospital for that, I ask you," said Scolder.

"Hold on, did you say, Daniels? I have a bill from an ambulance company. It took her to THE hospital. So she was there. She lives three counties from here, though." Mully said, wondering.

"Do you think they could have gotten to her in the time that it takes to kiss a boo-boo better?" Scolder said.

"I doubt it, but the deputy director said to track down every possibility, and I could use a break from these fluorescent lights. So, road trip?"

An hour later, Scolder and Mully were just about to pull into the driveway of Marsha Daniels when a car pulled out and sped off.

"Is that her?" Scolder said as he slowed, trying to decide whether to follow the car or not.

"The plate matches," Mully said.

They followed the car for another thirty minutes into a sleepy little town and watched as it pulled into a long driveway. Scolder parked along the roadside about one hundred feet away, and they got out. The two walked cautiously through the underbrush until they found the house with Marsha's car. Three other cars were also parked there.

"I'm glad we called this in. Want to wait?" Mully said.

"For at worst, a junior varsity cult flunkie? No, let's take a look, you cover the back, I'll go in the front." Scolder said.

A minute later, Scolder knocked on the front door, which was opened by a pretty woman who did not match the picture on Marsha Daniels' driver's license.

"Excuse me, I'm with the FBI and was following up on an investigation. I need to talk to Marsha Daniels. Is she here right now?" Scolder said.

"Marsha who?" said the woman.

Scolder was looking intently at the woman for any tells that she was hiding something. So far, his gaze had frozen on the cleavage exposed by her impossibly low-cut V-neck blouse. How the two watermelons the blouse covered stayed in place was a miracle any man would ponder. Then, suddenly, he heard a crash and a yell from inside the house.

He drew his weapon and said, "Ma'am, I am going to need to come inside."

Without hesitation, she stepped aside and let him in.

Scolder went to where the noise had come from and soon found himself in the kitchen. Mully was on the floor, two women standing over her. One was hiking up her skirt while the other bent over and was unbuttoning Mully's pants.

"Stop, FBI," Scolder said as he leveled his firearm in their direction.

The two froze and looked at him. One looked like a typical housewife, and the other a young coed. They just stood and stared back at Scolder, looking at him like he was just a nuisance and nothing to worry about.

That's when he heard the crackle and felt his muscles tense. The woman who had let him in was standing behind him with a stun gun. He dropped to the kitchen floor ten feet from his **** partner. He watched as the woman pulled off her pants, and the one in the skirt squatted over her. Soon after, Mully began moaning, and they helped her up and out of the room. That's when the black bag went over Scolder's head.

Several hours later, Scolder awoke. It was dark, and Scolder heard loud and varied moaning. This was much more active and aggressive than the low moan he had heard in the kitchen. He sat on the floor listening intently to the moaning of several women for quite some time. As he moved his head back and forth, he finally got the bag to slide up so that he could see a bit of what was going on. He was in what looked like a bedroom. Instead of beds, several mattresses were on the floor. He was sitting on one, and he could see his partner on another with the woman who had met him at the front door. They were both naked, and Mully was bouncing up and down on the other woman. As she did, she let out several low, rough grunts. Only a few moments after he got the bag off enough to see this, the woman from the front door saw that he could see her. Just then, the two women suddenly orgasmed together, and then they broke apart.

Mully got up and walked to Scolder; she was naked as the day she had been born, a sight Scolder had hoped to see under better circumstances. Mully pulled the bag off Scolder's head and said, "It wasn't swamp gas this time. Still probably not aliens though."

Scolder watched her firm ass as she walked away. The other woman saw this and said, "You never had a chance; she was always a lesbian."

She approached him, and as she did, he scanned the bedroom. He saw another pair of women lying back on their elbows opposite one another. From this angle, it was hard to tell if they were scissoring, and it looked to Scolder's well trained eyes that they were too far apart. He just caught a glimpse of something black and shiny between them when the bag went back over his head. "Shows over," was all that the woman who had just orgasmed with his partner said as the lights went out again.

The house was quiet for the next hour. Then Scolder heard yelling and a loud crash. The FBI was breaking down a door downstairs. It was a good thing for Scolder that Mully had called this in. But it was too late for Mully. Scolder was the only one of the two still in the house.

As Scolder was untied and asked about his partner, he wondered if a cult of sexy lesbians was really all that bad of a thing. And he then wondered how he could join. It would be worth it if he got a shot at rubbing groins with either Mully or the woman with those breasts that were perfectly proportioned examples of high strangeness in the mammalian world.

Within hours, the army was surrounding the area and preparing to round up everyone in the county.