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Tom's Holiday - The Analyst

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His cell phone beeped insistently, and Thomas Bell sighed before fishing it out of his pocket. The screen told him that Artie was responsible for interrupting his reverie. Tom thumbed the screen, bringing up the text: Hey man, she in yet?

Agent Bell glanced up at the giant screen, then at the time on his phone. Frowning, he wrote back: Plane delayed. An hour late. Been standing here and haven't had a smoke in ages. He put his phone back in his pocket and started drumming his fingers on it impatiently, the sound muted by the fabric of his jeans. Around him, people talked on cell phones or yelled at one another, oblivious to his presence. Tom liked this anonymity, sometimes. It let him feel like a normal person.

His cell beeped again. Suck it up, princess.

Tom didn't bother replying to that. He focussed on the rhythmic tapping of his fingers and gazed at the screen until numbers merged in to one another. He shook his head to clear his vision, just in time to see the status of her flight change from “DELAYED” to “ARRIVED”. Plane's here, he sent to Artie, and moved to forward to meet his target.

I'll go down to the store and grab some Jack. She drinks whiskey, yeah?

Like a sailor drinks breast milk, Tom replied.

You're messed up, man.

A little while longer and she emerged from the terminal, her black hair shorter than he remembered. He liked the look, and found himself smiling as Evey sauntered her way toward him. “You shouldn't let the succubus show so much,” he said.

“Shut the fuck up and take me drinking,” she replied.


Tom rested his glass on his knee as he continued to make his point. “You can't know that, though,” he said. “We work in the paranormal field every day and see things normal people don't get to see. They can discount ghost stories and vampires and shit easily because they don't have to live with it. Hauntings are easily explained as tricks of light and apparatus. Ghosts are just electrical fields going haywire or something. Doesn't fucking matter. Point is, you can only test with the information you have.”

“You can't just apply work stuff to unicorns, man,” said Artie.

Tom took a swig from his glass. The whiskey had long ago lost its burn and went down smoothly. “The fuck you can't,” he said. “And all I'm saying is that we can't know for absolute certain.”

“I mentioned I don't give a shit, right?” Evey leaned forward and grabbed the bottle by the neck, recklessly pouring herself half a glass of whiskey. “I swear you two will argue about anything.”

Artie sniggered. “Shut up, succuslut, the men are talking.”

Evey shot Artie a black look as Tom continued. “You have to admit that there's an argumentative basis for the existence of unicorns. It's plausible. You saw some of the shit we encountered in Japan. Fuckin' dude with a badger head.”

“That doesn't mean unicorns exist! That's like trying to apply the observable law of gravity to a ghost.”

Tom smacked his knee. “But that's exactly my point! We know things like physics and shit don't apply to a lot of entities in our field, so that just means you can't test for it. And I will go and get myself a fucking unicorn if it kills me.”

“Tom,” said Evey, “You're drunk.”

“Damn right I am.”


Artie had passed out about an hour ago and Tom and Evey had taken the opportunity to move things along to a more appropriate venue. Her nipples ran lightly along his chest as she straddled him, teasing him with the promise of better things to come. He tried to move an arm, hoping to cup a hand over her small, perky breasts – but she wrestled him back, slamming his forearm against the bed-head. It hurt a bit, but he didn't have time to cry out as she covered her mouth with his. “This is my turf now,” she said after breaking the kiss. “I fucking own you.”

Evey moved his other wrist over and held them both with one hand, using her free hand to undo his jeans. She pulled at his cock through his underwear, making sure it was good and hard before exposing him to the open world. He kicked off his garments awkwardly as she lowered her hips down on his manhood and began rubbing against him. Her own pants were maddeningly in the way, but before Tom could struggle she took hold of both wrists again, pinning him in place cruelly. “You like this?” she asked. Before he could answer, her mouth found his and they were kissing again.

“I said, do you fucking like this?” He tried to answer but again was assaulted by her lips pressing against his. He gave up all thoughts of trying to reply verbally and nodded his head. “Good boy,” she purred, and pressed her hips down harder. Tom marvelled at her restraint – she must have been as turned on as he was but she wasn't even so much as gasping.

Quickly enough he lost all conscious thought, and felt himself come on his chest. The orgasm was harder that normal, and he looked down to see a long line of sperm stretching from his navel to his chest. Evey sighed, disappointed. “I didn't tell you that you could do that,” she said, and traced a finger through his issue. “That was very naughty.”

She lifted her finger to Tom's mouth and forced it past his closed lips. “Suck on it. Clean my finger of your come,” she said. It tasted odd, both sticky and salty. He didn't enjoy it at all, but with her in this mood he dared not disobey. He swallowed, and she took her finger out of his mouth, only to trace it down his abdomen again. “You made a mess. Its your responsibility to clean up after yourself,” she declared as she forced her finger in to his mouth again.

Once he was 'clean' Evey stood, her legs to either side of him. Tom took the opportunity to try and move his arms but found that he couldn't. He looked up and back, trying to see what stopped him moving, and saw handcuffs securing him ably to the bed-head. “When the fuck did you do that?” he said.

He was immediately winded by the kick to his side. “No talking,” Evey said gently as she unbuttoned her figure-hugging pants. She pulled them down roughly, and Tom noticed that she wasn't wearing any panties. Her vulva was wet and inviting, and Tom wanted nothing more than to get his mouth over top of it. Instead, Evey stood still, slowly massaging her clitoris with her left hand, and a breast with her other. “I want you to wait until I pleasure myself,” she said, and proceeded to do exactly that.

Every time he shifted, she kicked him. His cock grew uncomfortably hard as the petite woman standing over him slowly and meticulously brought herself to orgasm. Each twitch of her body, each pass of her hand over her sex and each small moan of self-induced pleasure was absolute torture to him. Eventually, after the seventh kick, she brought herself to climax, the warm liquid of her satisfaction running down her legs to pool on the bedsheets. She smiled to herself, satisfied, and walked off the bed, leaving Tom handcuffed. “I'll be back to deal with you later,” she said.


The smell of three days worth of sex, whiskey and weed hung in the air of the apartment. Tom was secretly glad that he wasn't required to do any work for the department for a while. He didn't think he'd have the energy. Evey had been quite clear with her daily requirements – and Tom didn't mind fulfilling her desires. It was nice, he reflected, to have such clear boundaries. Evey wasn't interested in a relationship and neither was Tom. They both understood that this was strictly on a take-what-you-need basis.

He walked past her as she took a swig of milk from the carton. He thought about slapping her on the arse but thought better of it. He reached around her and turned the coffee machine on, yawning as he waited. Evey leaned in to him as she drank, her arse rubbing against his crotch companionably. Tom grinned to himself and he felt himself get hard, and poked her in the side. She jumped, spilling milk all over the counter, but Tom used her surprise to bend her over the counter and pull down her panties. He was just about to enter her when his phone buzzed in the living room.

“I better get that,” he said, stuffing himself back in to his pants.

“Thomas Bell, you get back here right now!” Evey fumed.
“Shan't,” Tom replied as he picked up the phone. There was a text waiting for him, from Artie. Dude, it read, we have a problem.

Where are you? Tom thumbed back. He put the phone in his pocket and walked back in to the kitchen. Evey gave him a stare that would liquefy Death himself as he helped himself to a mug of coffee. He was idly poking Evey's feet with his big toe when his cell buzzed again.

At the office. Rod's just been to the airport, picked up someone important.

Tom was nonplussed. He was on vacation and didn't give a wet fuck about what Rodham was doing. He took a sip of coffee as he texted back: Why are you in the office? You're meant to be on vacation you jackass.

“Who are you talking to?” Evey said. An expression of barely concealed jealousy, mixed with perhaps a bit of annoyance, was fixed on her features. Tom grinned to see her like that. Payback.

“Just Artie,” he said.

She snorted. “You two should get a room or something.” Evey took the carton of milk and stalked in to the bedroom. Tom chuckled to himself quietly as he drank his coffee. Yep – he was in trouble.

The phone vibrated again and Tom checked the text message. He almost dropped the mug in his shock. Tom, the message said, shut up. This is important. Rod got back from the airport with someone important. It's Chiyo.


The windows failed to get the reek of three days of indulgence out of the apartment in an hour and Tom was anxious. A knock at the door only heightened his anxiety. He answered after the second knocking of knuckles against wood as was greeted with the sight of Artie, Rod and Chiyo clustered together on the landing. “Hey,” he said lamely.

“Just dropping off the lady, Tom. She said she'd like to stay with you while she's visiting.” Rod's expression clearly stated that he didn't care if that was okay or not and he turned on his heel and left as abruptly as he stated his business. Tom stood dumbfounded for a moment and then recalled himself.

“Come in, come in,” he said, feeling his embarrassment colour his cheeks. Artie barged in, as usual. Chiyo stood looking at Tom for a moment, and after excusing herself, squeezed past Tom effortlessly. He felt a familiar cold touch as she brushed past him. “Uh, yeah, sure,” he muttered as he closed the door behind him.

Chiyo looked around at the apartment. “Nice place,” she said. “You should air it out a bit,” she added with a casual air Tom didn't reciprocate.

“Yeah, sorry. I wasn't expecting visitors, and I've been busy with...”

“Clearly,” she enunciated crisply as Evey walked out of Tom's bedroom. The two regarded one another in a manner that Tom recalled once seeing two lionesses perform on a documentary. His awkwardness increased.

“Chiyo, this is a friend of mine...”

“Yes. My name is Chiyo. I'm an acquaintance of Mr Bell,” Chiyo said with admirable politeness. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Evey,” Evey replied simply. The two women continued to look at one another unblinkingly.

Tom was about to say something else unnecessary when Artie interjected for him. “Dude,” he said, “Why do you always buy shit coffee?”


Hours passed, and Chiyo and Evey eventually seemed to forgive each other's presence and started to establish a rapport. They were engaged in a conversation about the niceties of supernatural encounters, which Artie artfully orchestrated by asking questions that caused both women to laugh frequently. Tom was glad Artie was there, and kept his silence while contemplating his position, only occasionally offering noises to support one opinion over another without actually caring much about the point being made.

It was Chiyo that eventually forced him to pay attention, as she rose and sat again, this time as close to Tom as possible. “So, Tom. What have you been doing with yourself?” she asked.

Tom was aware of the look on Evey's face as she drank in the scene before her. Whatever goodwill had been generated by the discussion seemed to evaporate instantly as Chiyo made her powerplay. The agent cleared his throat, palpably aware of the tension in the room. “I've been on leave,” he said simply. “After Kurozu, the Department felt it best that I find some way to relax for a while.”

“That's understandable,” Chiyo said as she somehow managed to edge closer to him. Tom wanted to move away a bit, to offer some sort of olive branch to Evey, but found that he was blocked on his left by the armrest of the sofa. “I see you've managed to find a way to pass your idle moments.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Evey said, inching closer to Artie. The Operator didn't even notice her move, engrossed as he was in the current exchange.

“I'm dead, but that doesn't mean I can't use my senses. I recall the smells of sex and...other pastimes easily enough.” Chiyo offered a weak smile to the other woman.

“I don't know what you're so worried about. It's not like you can do anything about it now, can you?” Evey said with a predatory grin.

“Actually...” Artie began, only to be interrupted by Tom's sudden groan.

“Oh, I see!” said Evey. “So you two have a history, do you?”

“Look, Evey, we're all adults here,” Tom began, but he was cut off by Chiyo.

“It is possible for ghosts to have sexual relations, yes,” she said. “And Tom and I engaged quite eagerly.”

“I see,” said Evey as she leaned back. Her hand rested on Artie's knee and he looked down at it with bewilderment.

“Yes, you do,” Chiyo replied, placing her own hand on Tom's own. Her chill touch echoed Tom's state of mind all too well.

“Well,” Evey said with sudden confidence, “It's not like I'm attached to Tom anyway.” She leaned forward, grabbed Artie's chin and kissed him harshly. Artie's eyes wore an expression of surprise at first, but cocksure bravado soon took over.

“Nor am I,” Chiyo replied, and turned to kiss Tom with a passion to equal Evey's hunger.


He wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but he watched in fascination as Evey and Chiyo kissed one another eagerly. The girls rode their partners gently, enjoying the feel of cock inside them. Tom chanced a look at Artie and was momentarily disgusted to see a manic grin on his friend's face, his tongue hanging out of one corner of his mouth.

As he watched, Artie grasped at Evey's breasts, his hands completely engulfing the soft tissue. Evey broke off her kiss with Chiyo to moan, and she leaned forward, her own hands gripping as much of the fabric of the sofa as they could. She moaned louder as Artie shifted his hips backward, giving him more room for rapid thrusting. The Operator's hands slapped the succubus host's arse, causing the girl to buck.

Tom gasped as Chiyo's form wrapped tighter around his shaft, and he looked up again to see the Japanese woman looking at the other couple with as much interest as Tom was. He reached up and ran his hands up her stomach, finding her ample breasts and squeezing them slightly. Her own attention returned to her partner, Chiyo moaned softly and surrendered herself to Tom.

He stood, easily picking her up with him, and spun about. Tom placed Chiyo on the sofa and brought her legs up and over his shoulders. As he began thrusting, Chiyo grabbed her own breasts and started massaging them, only to give up and grip the sofa as Tom thrust faster and deeper in to her. Her breasts jiggled pleasingly with the motion of Tom's vigorous lovemaking.

Artie found release first and Tom was treated to the spectacle of Evey finishing his friend off, sucking away any mess and then using her tongue to caress Artie's cockhead as her hand fondled his scrotum. Artie grabbed Evey's hair to keep her in place, shivering as her tongue flicked against his member, the increased sensitivity of the post-come erection sending him to new heights of simple pleasures.

Tom's thrusting increased in pace and he too finished, albeit inside Chiyo. He thrust for a while longer, more for Chiyo's pleasure than his own, and was rewarded with the sight of Chiyo's eyes rolling back in to her head slightly and her body shaking. Tom collapsed next to her. “I didn't know you could orgasm,” Tom said playfully, his hand massaging her vulva for no other reason than that it pleased him.

“It's a different experience,” she replied in an almost drunken post-coitus tone. “It's much more intense, like life is returning to my body and then just as quickly leaving again.”

“Sounds exhausting,” Evey said as she mounted Artie, ready for round two.


Tom and Chiyo left the other two to their own devices, and moved in to the bedroom. They lost themselves in each others bodies for a while – Tom caressing Chiyo's curves while his skin tingled with the cold contact, Chiyo marvelling at the scars that dotted Tom's body – until the Japanese woman pulled away slightly, leaning on her side to face Tom.

“I want to try something,” she said.

Tom felt his interest stir, and sheepishly covered his groin with a sheet. “I'm actually listening,” he replied as she giggled.

“I want to try anal,” Chiyo said, “But not in this form.”

Tom experienced something like overwhelming joy being crushed by an onslaught of confusion. “What do you mean, 'not in this form'?”

Chiyo ran a casual hand over Tom's bicep. “You remember when that ugly piece of shit managed to get you alone in an alleyway, and I saved your life?”

The Analyst shuddered. “Yeah, I remember. You kind of...did stuff.”

She nodded. “When I'm angry, I tend to lose control of my form. Think of it like berserking, if you will. My appearance and my demeanour change and it can maintain myself.”

Tom sighed. This was getting more technical than he could handle right now. He could feel his manhood shrinking. “So where is this going?”

“I've been working on a means of control. Temporarily changing my outward form, to better pass in human society. Disguise, I suppose. But it's easier to control the form at the moment if I concentrate on the memory of someone I have known.”

“So you want to try anal, but not as yourself.”

Chiyo nodded. “Exactly.”

“Why do I feel a sudden sense of trepidation?”

“Don't discount the idea until you've tried it,” she said. Her features began to twist, and Tom noticed her face was changing distinctly. It became more angular, almost masculine. Her breasts grew smaller, and eventually faced away to nothingness. Her torso morphed slightly, bringing her sides more in line with her hips, which shrunk slightly. Within moments Tom was confronted with the image of a person he never thought he'd see again.


“Yes,” the Keda-image said with Chiyo's voice. “I thought you'd be more comfortable with the form of someone you knew was attracted to the idea of anal penetration with men.”

Tom breathed out, unsure. “I'm not sure about this,” he said needlessly.

“Just let me get to work,” Chiyo said.


Tom watched as Keda's mouth swallowed his penis whole – despite the now familiar feel of Chiyo's cold touch on his skin, and the obvious pleasure of the moment, Tom knew immense discomfort. This was the first time anything remotely male had touched him so intimately. As Chiyo moved Keda's head up and down the length of his shaft, Tom decided it would be best if he just closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation. After all, it wasn't like the fellatio was a turn-off.

Tom allowed Chiyo to continue for a few moments before he decided he was ready. Gently, he took hold of Keda's head and lifted it towards his lips, awkwardly kissing his old friend. Chiyo pulled away slightly. “Just remember this is actually me, not Shinichiro. You don't need to be so reserved,” she said.

Tom nodded simply and pulled himself up, moving behind Chiyo. He beheld the spectacle before him: Keda's arse wasn't without shape but was nonetheless more muscular than anything, thin and angular like the rest of Keda's body. Aside from the obvious genital region, though, Tom couldn't help but think that the arsehole itself was much like any he'd seen on a woman. Perhaps this would be easier than he initially thought.

He leaned over and picked up a tube of lubricant off his dresser, applying a generous amount to himself and to the suddenly inviting form in front of him. Once he was ready, he slowly pushed his penis in to Keda's anus, his cockhead finally passing through after a few moments of careful progression. It wasn't easy, and Chiyo's voice let out a sharp cry. “Are you okay?” Tom asked, concerned.

Chiyo nodded as she looked at Tom over her shoulder. “Fine, just keep going.”

Tom complied, gently pushing the rest of his length inside her. He was surprised initially at how good it felt – Keda's anus felt tight around him, and only seemed to get tighter, as if it was trying to swallow his penis. Tom started to thrust slowly, mindful of Chiyo's continued grunts of pain, but equally excited by the increasing amount of moans coming from her as well.

Soon, he couldn't take it any more. He gripped her around the hips and began to thrust harder, faster. Chiyo began to move Keda's hips in a gyrating motion, and Tom felt her anus expand and retract against his length as she did so.

Chiyo leant down on a forearm and grabbed Tom's right hand with her free one, guiding it down to Keda's groin. Tom's initial thought was that his friend's penis was actually quite lengthy, but instinct quickly took over and Tom began to massage her shaft roughly. A few moments passed and he felt Chiyo shudder beneath him as she cried out, and suddenly his hand was sticky with her excitement. Thrusting hard now, he finished moments later, spraying himself all over Keda's back.

He leaned over, and this time he found it very easy to kiss Keda's mouth.


Evey had been gone for a day or so now, pleading a sudden need to go to New York. Tom sat with Chiyo curled up against him on the couch, watching a black and white Godzilla film. Chiyo provided translations for the Japanese as Tom watched, but he was barely paying attention. He was far more interested in the shape of her hair as it draped over her shoulder, the way it seemed at once heavy and yet weightless.

His cell buzzed and Tom picked it up. It was, of course, Artie. I can't believe you did that.

Tom muttered something unintelligible under his breath. It was days ago. Aren't you over it yet?

A few moments passed before Artie's reply came through. It's just WEIRD, man!

“Ask him if he's still sore,” Chiyo said. Tom startled a little – he had no idea she had been reading the messages. He recovered, though, with a big stupid grin. How's the hip there, buddy? You feeling okay? Did the big scary succubus hurt you?

As Godzilla smashed a building to pieces and roared its fury, another message came through causing Tom and Chiyo to laugh out loud. Fuck you I fucking hate you fuck fuck fuck.