Jacoby was in agony the moment they pulled her away from Fletcher. She was also having some problems with shaky legs, and this was from someone with a Muscularity well over the human average who still trained and did leg day twice a week.

This was also the same girl who played two different organized crime outfits against one another. She had ventured into the wilds of the criminal underworld, and she’d ventured into the wilds of this new world, and yet…

Yet something about Fletcher and what he’d just done to her refused to get off her mind. For hours and hours she’d sat in the ‘debrief chair,’ staring into the middle distance and not knowing anything except her thoughts swirling around and doubling back to the same thing every time.

Fletcher. That was it. Nothing but Fletcher.

The Agency was unhappy with her. They were probably angry with her because of Fletcher. They were going to deny her assignments because he’d ravished her. The feel of him stuffing every available iota of space within her. Fletcher telling her she was going to be his and only his, and her not just agreeing to it, but believing him.

Fletcher.

She answered questions about him and about their time together. It wasn’t necessary. They’d been watching the whole time. They just wanted to know how much he’d influenced her.

Influenced her? He’d taken control of her every motion, breath and thought somehow. And he was still waltzing around in her brain right this moment.

She’d wanted him from the moment she touched his soul with whatever ability he’d used. His uncomplicated genuineness was impossible to deny. She wanted to be around him. She wanted to help him do whatever it was he was doing.

And now she was supposed to free him and his people from the new HQ prison cells. It hadn’t had any before this. They had basically stripped everything out of his room and the nearby rooms, and barred the doors and windows.

Fletcher. Free Fletcher.

Jacoby blinked. This was crazy. She couldn’t go against the Agency just because he somehow got in her head, literally, and told her what to do. She couldn’t concoct plans, sit down with Savannah and Ribbit and Bri and Steph, and her Australian Rogue they called Oz, and she couldn’t ask them to betray the company that cut their paychecks. She couldn’t break all their rules and risk being jailed.

How could she do anything but all that stuff? Fletcher had commanded it. If she ever wanted to chain orgasm again in her life, she would do as he commanded.

A shudder ran through Jacoby. He’d asked her whether she was ovulating. Surely he couldn’t mean… but no, she had watched all of his jizz leak out of her and get swept away by the water in the shower. He meant it. She’d seen his soul and she knew he meant things he said.

Celine said she couldn’t get pregnant here, but Fletcher had sounded so sure. She didn’t think Celine was wrong, but Celine had submitted to him as well. He could do things—like the telepathic speech, and giving her some kind of healing power—that weren’t possible so far as the Wizards understood it. He could stuff himself all the way up her ass without causing her to scream in agony. He could cause all the Bards who tried to work powers on him to fall down clutching their heads.

They had no records of a Pleasure Seeker class. She hadn’t seen his character sheet like the highest level Wizards had, but there’d been whispers and rumors about all kinds of extra abilities beyond the typical five… or six, now that Physicality had split Agility and Muscularity.

Fletcher… he had two classes, was getting boosted stats from both. He had powers he grabbed from having sex. He’d given one to her when he completely rearranged her understanding of pleasure.

Healer’s Resistance it was called, and with it she could spend a Token to ignore almost all the damage from a source. It was a simple gift, but wondrous.

Fletcher’s gift to her. Along with the knowledge that she could orgasm from the tips of her toes all the way to her scalp, and that she could have one after another after another. Just as soon as the one was finished, she could just bounce off that one and into another one, like she was being electrified.

Jacoby stood and paced around the debriefing room, her mind already spinning up the plans. She had made friends with the people on her team. Good friends. They’d learned to rely on one another completely, for finding their way, cooking their meals, watching one another’s backs. Some of them had gotten romantic, like Bri and Steph. That was as a result of being on Jacoby’s team. Oz owed her big time, since he’d pissed off several people here in the Rogues and needed to get the hell out. Savannah loved working with Jacoby, and Ribbit… Ribbit had become a bit of a slut after the incident in Flunt-on-the-Rustle. She’d started dating several of the Wizards and Guardians, pulling a kind of reverse Fletcher. Jacoby didn’t mind. She was in no position to judge, given that she’d just fully submitted to a guy who was known to have sex with at least three of his own teammates, and who was having sex with Nakamamon.

Fletcher. Ugh, always circling back to that guy. She didn’t know how she’d gone from being a confident, capable leader to being a blissed out puddle not three days later. Her intention had been to dominate him, tell him what to do, shove her pussy in his face and ride his face until he was gasping for breath and begging her to suck his cock. Then she had intended to stroke him and lick him, and make him beg, and beg, and finally she would allow him to bust his nut.

Jacoby froze in the middle of pacing the briefing room, shuddering. Although she had no idea how she had been so wrong, it didn’t matter. She would suck his cock any time he wanted. Standing in front of the conclave, if he had put a hand on her head and quietly commanded her, she was almost certain she’d have dropped to her knees and given him a blowjob even with everyone watching. She didn’t even know if the idea of having an audience was mortifying or exhilarating.

She felt her pussy react, not just moistening, but gushing with juices. She’d just convinced it that Fletcher was going to be in her again… possibly soon.

“Ugh,” she said, but only half out of disgust.

People filed into the room, commanded her to sit. She did. The debriefing session started and ended. She answered honestly; she couldn’t concentrate enough to lie.

Afterwards they told her something, possibly to report to her quarters and stay there. She couldn’t be sure. She went with the two Guardians, was shut into her room. Almost immediately she climbed out the window, did a double backwards somersault and landed in a superhero crouch in one of the courtyards. Then she went off in search of her people.

All she had to do was get to Savannah’s room and put out the word through the Bard. She liked how Savannah kept up a positive attitude at all times, a cheerfulness Jacoby couldn’t possibly match. Savannah was like a glue to their team. She’d been the leader in actuality, while Jacoby just made decisions.

When they came, all except Celine, they were almost two dozen strong.

“We’ve been through a lot together,” she reminded them. “We hunted down those fighting aspects together, and fought them, and caught them. More importantly, we made camp together, we cooked meals, we sang songs, we birched about work, complained about our pasts, and then… then we went and got Fletcher so we could try to salvage something of the expedition.”

She laughed, feeling like maybe she was going insane. All this for Fletcher. Fletcher Fletcher Fletcher.

“And it was pointless, sure.”

“We didn’t know that,” Savannah supplied. “We thought it was something we could contain.”

“Go on,” Ribbit said, and nodded at Jacoby.

“He didn’t have to help us, but he did. And when I…” When she’d given the order to arrest him to take him back to HQ for the reward. “…he still didn’t punish me. He understood. And then he didn’t have to pull any of you out of the divinity area—” Where their libidos had been supercharged and they’d started screwing one another left and right. “—but he did that too.”

“Fletcher’s a good guy,” Wayne said. The Wizard had been stationed with Fletcher’s people during the initial hunt for Blake’s second in command, and had come to like the Divinity Rescue Corps.

She looked around at all of them. “What the admin are doing is wrong. Fletcher is a good guy and he needs our help. His mom is here and she has cancer. He thinks he can fix it with magic. I know what I’m asking; it’s crazy. It’s against Agency policy. If we do this, we’re fired or worse. They’ll stop paying us. Which is why you aren’t required to help. If you wanna leave, I get it. You can head back to your room, not participate, and stay employed.”

“The portal’s down anyway,” one of the Wizards said. “We can’t go home and they can’t contact earth to let them know to stop paying us.”

A murmur of approval made the rounds in the room.

“The time to bow out is now,” she said. “You’re free to go, but keep quiet about what we’re doing.”

“We know what happens to snitches,” Oz said, in a very bad New Jersey accent. He also sneered and punched a fist into his open hand. “And it ain’t a gift basket from fuggin’ Macy’s know-wuh-mean?”

He got a couple of snorts.

Most importantly, no one left.

“Then we’re calling it Operation Arrow,” she said.

“For Fletcher,” Wayne said.

“For Fletcher.”

***

They commenced Operation Arrow two days later.

Jacoby found herself far more nervous now than she had been in when debriefing the admin on her team’s mission status. Appearing before the conclave to explain that the fighting aspect Nakamamon had all been reverted back to their initial forms… except one… was nerve-wracking.

This was far, far worse.

They were going up against dozens, hundreds of Agency personnel. Her class, at least, was made to handle the wilds, the outdoors, and the Nakamamon they might encounter there. Nakamamon were sometimes powerful, but only with a single element. The big beasts were much more like tanky Guardians, shrugging off abilities to calm them down or attacks to dissuade them, but they were never complicated.

Even when they’d come up against sapient Nakamamon who didn’t want to let them pass, or who didn’t like them because they were humans, it was easy to handle them. Agency policy was to respect Nakamamon wishes if at all possible, even to the point of ignoring mission parameters if it seemed like it would come to violence. Past that, they had a Rogue who could—and loved to—sneak past the prickly Nakamamon in question and ensure mission outcomes were favorable.

This was not that. These were sapient beings, sure, but they had no such strictures against violence, and were equipped with six different abilities each. With time and preparation, Wizards could literally do anything. Rangers could be deadly at range or up close. Guardians had a suite of abilities to turn them into impassible walls. And Rogues… you wouldn’t even know you were out of the fight until you woke up afterwards, if you were lucky enough to wake up afterwards.

Jacoby let out a shaky breath. She’d committed to this. She owed Fletcher a debt that didn’t even have anything to do with his mystical ability to drive her out of her mind with pleasure. Okay, it had a little to do with that, but mostly to do with him acting honorably, and the Agency being awful.

“Wizards are in position,” Wayne reported. “I have reports from the Guardians, from Savannah and Oz… everyone’s ready.”

Jacoby concentrated on the strange orb Wayne had given her, and put it against her eye. The other side showed her a view of the hallway from the floor level, where six Guardians stood, two for each cell door. One of them detached from his post and walked over. The extreme worm’s eye view made them seem colossal. The guard bent to pick up the baseball-sized orb off the floor, and lifted Jacoby’s view up to head level.

“Go,” she murmured.

The administrators and security personnel weren’t expecting an attack on the HQ from within. They certainly didn’t see a Bard and Rogue combo descend on the Wizards, stop them from casting spells, and bind and gag them in minutes.

Neither did they didn’t see Jacoby’s Wizards coming. Warding circles were set up to stop anyone who was a Guardian from heading down specific hallways. Short range teleports allowed Jacoby’s people into the cell block unannounced, burning through piles of shared Tokens to overpower the guards on duty. She personally rounded the corner with stun arrows nocked, and had two of them before any of them reacted in the slightest. When they tried to call out, silencing spells stopped them from doing so. A short fight ensued, but the Guardians weren’t ready to take on Jacoby’s own Guardians, herself shooting arrows, and Wayne flinging spells at the same time.

Wayne and the Wizards had a spell to put struggling guards to sleep, because the Wizards had a spell for everything.

Unlocking the cells wasn’t difficult. Disabling the specific warding circles using counter spells took longer. Chrysta and Shakindria looked on passively from where they hovered in their cells, watching the Wizards work.

“What have you done?” Chrysta asked.

Jacoby tried not to show any fear before the ice ghost Nakamamon. It was a battle she lost, if only a little. She gulped and cleared her throat. “We’re here to break you out.”

Then we thank you, Shakindria said directly into her mind, and floated out of the cell. The yellow-skinned psychic Nakamamon hadn’t twitched from her lotus position, but instead floated smoothly out into the hallway and surveyed the scene. Her face quirked into a smile a moment later.

Fletcher’s room hadn’t been warded. He emerged hand in hand with Celine, who wore only a pair of striped socks reaching to mid thigh.

“Oh! Jacoby!” the diminutive Wizard squeaked.

Jacoby pointedly did not allow her eyes to linger, after catching the tell-tale sheen of wetness down the insides of Celine’s thighs.

“I’ll go get dressed then!” she said.

“We will go get dressed, actually,” Fletcher said.

This is Fletcher unable to do wrong by Jacoby, for some unfathomable reason.