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Worm's Lemons


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Опубликован:
24.05.2016 — 20.09.2016
Читателей:
6
Аннотация:
Yeah, it's Lemons, lot of Lemons! You were warned! Спасибо Арийскому Гомофобу за ссылку. 20.09.2016
 
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Worm's Lemons


Worm's lemons

http://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/worm-ideas-thread-story-only.3498/

Названия рассказов, в порядке расположения в файле

Broodmistress

Skitter / Panacea

Tentacle Taylor

Just Reward

Fictional Taylor

Family

Amazon

The Breeder

Entailment

Tiger and Her Kitten

Porn Logic

Breakline

Dressed to Impress

Failing Relationship

Irresistible

Musings of a Shadow

To khow Thyself

Love in the Foreground

The Night is for Lovers

Embarrasing Revelation

Good Morning, My Love

Love Lift Us Up

Renegade for Life

Dennis vs. Nightmares

Basic Attraction

Taylor / Rachel

Parental Pride

What a Nice Guy

Broken Doll

TITAN

Once More, with feeling

Just a little blatant revenge fantasy

Queen Smooze: Slime girls need more Love

Master trigger Emma

My Life as a Sex Toy Tinker

Broken Bird in a rusted Cage

Rachel's Recruitment

Swarm Mother

A Bet on Bet

T_Taylor

Taylor Gets Revenge

Taming the Bee

Highly SKilled

Using what You got

CYOA-Gnosis

A simple soul (Worm CYOA)

TMI

Taylor Hebert The Omni-Caster

Good Idea at the time

The Stray Kitty

God-Verse Omake

Bang Bang

Slaveverse AU

Red Ice

A Price of Pride and Blood

Aftermath

Power Plays

Picking up the pieces

20.y

Stress Relief

Warm Sparks

Sensible Ears

On a lonely String

Eruption

I'm Halping

Talking with the Bee

I just wanted to know

Carol

Worm Abridged

What if: Start

Cut these strings

Game On (CYOA)

The Best has no limits

A Grimm new world (RWBY)

Silencio Crack (Script)

Shadowing Shadow Stalker

Inside the Party

Shubbery

Taking Glory from Glory Girl

Danny the Pimp vs. Victoria Dallon

Strange Device

In a Family Way

Trouble in the Family

We all become (Transistor)

Don't be Koi

The Undersider's Adventures Through Tainted Space

Utterly Fucked Up: Prologue

Amelia / Amy

Audio Erotica

Library Pass

Amelia: bonus scenes

Tattletale-oneesan

S'fya (Alien)

Drunken Glory

Bug in the Dragon's Bed

A Peek into the Cage

Superbooze

100% Bullshit

10 X 10

Probation

Criminal Instincts

sEX(P)y Worm

Lisa's Night Out

sEX(P) — Unfinished Business

A God Dragon, Damnit

Down Time

Silverage Superwoman

HAIR

The funny thing about casuality

Family Reunion

The Birth of a Scarlet Woman

Low

Mutagenic Burritos

How to train your per (Sophia)

Mahou Shoujo Mystical Prism

D&D Night

A Little Beginnig (NWOD)

Succubus Taylor

Hide

DRIVE

It Runs in the Family

Futanari Taylor Tales

Skitter Milk

Open Minded

Tinker & Taylor

Mistress Bees

Fucking Kiss Already

Stars and Shadows

EROTOARCANA

Poker Night at the Loft

Control

Sex-Arcade Booth 512

Powers for a Price

A Normal day at the loft

Photophobia

Stargazing

The Importance of Sex Ed

Familiarity

Awkward First Times

Glorious Tits

Coiled

Coil's Limp snake

No Obligations

Well ... Shit

No More Goodbyes

Spear as the bees do

Taylor the Maid

Lily / Taylor Shardswap

Clit Penis

Anemone

Specific Protagonist's Journey to Redemption

Greg's "Mind Control"

Saving the World with Dubious Summons

Family: Prologue

Weird Massage

Path to SkitterTale

Path to All the Shipping

Regent and Panacea

BURNING RAGE (?)

Always the quiet ones

A Girl and her Symbiote

Taylor Bicycle Shorts

Madison's Journal

Mad, Mad Love

Reality Shifting

Immaculate

Dolls and Medicine

Dragon Cutie Prismatic

Tentacles and Supervillianesses

Ruby Moon

Tattletease: Post Bank

Intrepid: additional scenes

A Study of Purple

Addie

Clean Up

Like Totally Cheerful and Stuff!

Nurse Willbourne

Rebound

Almost Perfect (?)

Santa CYOA

Deckered

A Story of WyldCard4 in Worm

High Times with Daddy Blasto

Weaver's Christmas Party: Excerpt

QQbot has spoken

Amy Takes Missy for a ride

Miss Bii

Overpowered Pervert Madison

Hencing Troubles

Sophia Hess: Legendary Recruiter

Something Something Madison

There's something Para about a Ruth

Brian's Run

Timeout

Taylor Gets Dicked

Descent

Dauntless' Ring

Alice

Goddamned Pervert Idiot

Fantasy Worm: Emma & Taylor (Proof -of-concept)

Worm: the dating Sim

Mistress Lisa

Oops

There Walked a Man

Alone

The Party

What are we going to do with our hands?

Mecha-Shift

Nice Guy

A Totally Vanilla Threesome

The Offer

Bonesaw's Clinic

A Wonderful friend

Fantasy Worm

Healthy living habits

Simurgh's surprise

Beauty and Beast

Incomplete Bodysuit

Twisted

Jealousy

No Fucking About

Magical Girl Lady Heart Enters the Fray!

No Title Yet

Breeder

Worm: the Dating Sim (Amy)

Taylor Hijacked

A New Experience

Submit

Monster Girls of Brockton — Bay

Shipper in Orbit


Broodmistress



(Автор: ShaperV)


August 7, 2011

"Good morning, Skitter. I'm glad you decided to come."

"It's Weaver now," I responded, looking around cautiously. "Who are you?"

The roof of the Chicago Wards building seemed deserted, but he was talking to me somehow. Sound manipulation? Or some kind of Stranger power? Probably the latter, all things considered.

"The few people who know I exist call me Mindscramble. I'm afraid it will probably take Skitter to save the world, but that part will be up to you. I'm just here to make you an offer."

He faded into view, and I found myself relaxing marginally. He seemed perfectly normal. Kind of sexy, actually.

"What kind of offer?"

He smiled, and my heart skipped a beat. "Thank you for listening. My power is very useful for getting in and out of places unnoticed, but with your record I have no doubt you'd find a way to kill me if you thought you needed to. That's a large part of why I picked you."

He stepped closer, and took my hands. A soft sigh escaped my lips as his musky scent reached me. A sudden wave of dizziness made me sway, but his tentacles caught me carefully.

"Normally my power keeps people from noticing anything odd about me, but I'm not sure how that will interact with your swarm sense. So, if you start seeing me as a monster of some sort, please keep in mind that I'm just here to talk."

I nodded, and leaned into his chest. His scales were hard against my cheek, but his strength left me feeling warm and safe. How long had it been since I felt safe?

He seemed perfectly normal to me, but the volume of space he occupied was a lot larger than most capes. The bugs I'd landed on his shoulders were eight feet apart.

"Yes, I'm getting some odd impressions," I told him. "But it's not a problem. So, you're a Case 53?"

"More or less," he admitted. "I was never experimented on by Cauldron, but the source of my power was... well, I think it's the same place they get theirs. If you decide to accept my offer you'll learn everything I know about that. I've been investigating for more than a decade now, and while I don't know everything I can probably give you some clues you don't have."

A tentacle wandered up my thigh, and I shivered. There was something strange about the situation, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Why did I feel so hot, anyway?

I pushed the unfamiliar feeling away, and tried to focus.

"You're talking in circles," I pointed out. "Stop stalling, and tell me whatever it is you came to say."

He sighed. "I suppose you're right. Ok, here it is. You've accomplished some amazing things with a pretty wimpy power, and from what I hear you've dedicated yourself to trying to stop that prediction about the end of the world. One of the things I can do with my power is permanently buff other people. If you want me to, I'll use it on you."

I pulled away to look up at his face. "That sounds too good to be true. Why would I say no?"

His tentacles twined around me, pinning my limbs and touching me everywhere at once. My eyes fluttered, and I felt my concentration waver. Why was I so distracted? We were just talking.

"Several reasons," he explained. "First, because you wouldn't exactly be human anymore. You know how Bitch's power affects dogs? What I do is kind of like that, only with women. If we do it right you'll gain a limited degree of shapeshifting, enough to look more or less normal when you want to, but inside you'll still be a biological weapon instead of a human girl. You'll be stronger, faster, a lot harder to kill, and you'll gain a weaker version of my powers. Your own abilities should get improved a bit as well, and I can make an educated guess that you'll be able to... create minions, instead of just controlling them."

"But the actual application of my powers is phenomenally squicky. Bad enough that most women would run screaming at the idea. If we do this the powers you gain will retain an aspect of that as well. There will also be some psychological effects. New urges and instincts that, while controllable, aren't exactly the sort of thing most people want to deal with. Unfortunately I have to be vague right now, because if I explain it in detail my power will automatically make you think it's all perfectly fine and normal. That's not what I want, for a number of reasons."

"In a day or two the effect of meeting me here will wear off, and then you'll suddenly realize what I mean. When that happens I want you to sit down and think about it for a bit, and decide if getting some extra tools to work with is worth it to you. If it is, give me a call."

I was disappointed when the tentacles that were teasing me withdrew, but I found myself feeling remarkably agreeable at the moment. So I took the slip of paper he offered me with a smile and a nod.

"Sure. I assume you want me to keep this secret?"

"Please. I'm not sure if the PRT has a file on me or not, but if they do there's no way in hell they'd consider me anything but a villain. If you decide you want to do this, text me at that number sometime when you're outside the building with a female escort. I've got a plan for making this all look like an attack on you, so it doesn't blow this infiltration thing you're doing with the Wards here."

"Alright. I guess you won't listen if I say yes right now, so I'll talk to you in a few days.

August 8, 2011

I'd been in the shower for too long already. I needed to get dressed, get to my training session with Golem, act natural.

But I couldn't shake the memory of those tentacles roaming my body, casually touching me in places no one but Grue ever had. Of my own body responding, submitting eagerly to the violation. The way I'd been so oblivious to what was happening. He could have taken me at any moment.

Part of me wished he had.

The memory was disgusting. Confusing. Arousing. In ten minutes Mindscramble's power had made me feel more warmth, trust and human connection than I'd experienced since my mother died. But the whole time, I'd been a heartbeat away from being raped.

That was the power he was offering me?

I realized I was touching myself, and tore my hand away with a snarl.

"Damnit! Does it ever stop getting worse?"

It was exactly what I needed. A way to get the drop on Jack, when he finally showed himself. A way to neutralize half the Slaughterhouse Nine... which half, I didn't want to think about too closely, but either way it would be a tremendous advantage. The price, though...

My phone rang.

I stepped out of the shower, hastily grabbing a towel as I reached for it.

"Whatever you're debating, it's a 6.83951% difference," Dinah's voice greeted me.

I stilled. "That much?" Then there really wasn't any choice, was there?

"Yeah," she said diffidently. "I can't say anything else. You understand?"

"I do, Dinah. Do what you need to, to give the world the best chance you can."

She hesitated. "Thank you, Taylor. No one else listens like you."

She hung up.

I was already making plans.


* * *

August 13, 2011

I drifted lazily through an endless sea of carnal delight. Master was taking me with long, lazy strokes, his dozens of appendages buried deep in the mass of hungry orifices that I'd become.

At first it had hurt. Then the pleasure overwhelmed the pain, growing more intense with every mutation of my body, until the ecstasy became a new kind of agony. I'd broken, reformed and broken again, losing pieces of myself one by one until everything that failed to embrace my new existence was gone. Now I was free to revel in the symphony of exultation that resonated through every fiber of my being under Master's ministrations. I was pure, elemental lust, given mind and form by the bud my master's seed had planted in me.

"Taylor," Master said fondly. "Time to start pulling yourself together."

"Hmm?" I didn't want to. I wanted to stay like this forever. No more worries. No more impossible battles. Let me melt into a puddle of joy and forget.

"Now, Taylor," he said firmly.

I sighed, and groped at myself with my new power. It was clumsy still, but it was getting better. I could feel the infant shard within me communicating with the one I'd already possessed. Coaxing it to help. Comparing their mutual data on the old me, and restoring the parts that could be compatible with my new existence. It was surprising how little had needed to change, really.

I was finally starting to adjust to the new senses that let me see my symbiotes, but I'd yet to sort through the knowledge Master had given me about their nature. I'd been otherwise occupied, to my great satisfaction.

"Okaaay," I groaned with a newly-formed mouth. "What are we doing, Master?"

"Make yourself look human, sweetie," he directed. "Your allies are coming for you."

Human. Right. What did humans look like? For a moment I couldn't remember. Then my new shard showed me the memories it had copied from my own mind before I shattered under an intensity of pleasure beyond anything humans had been designed for.

Two arms. Two legs. I'd been a runner, so long legs sculpted with muscle. Only one orifice? That would be hard. I folded myself through the higher dimensions, making my outward self look normal while hiding the fun stuff deep inside. That would be good enough, right?

Master chuckled. "Yes, that will work. Keep at it, but listen. When they kill me, you're going to find a spark in your womb that you could use to recreate me. Don't. I've tried my best, but I was never much of a fighter and living like this... well, you'll understand once you've recovered. Take the child shard I've given you, and do what you can. Let me stay dead, and use your own judgement in deciding how to live instead of trying to figure out what I would have wanted. That's my first and last order to you, Taylor."

"Yes, Master," I responded. "But I really don't want you to die. Does it have to be like this?"

"I'm afraid it does. My shard is too strong, and I don't have enough control over it.You'll never be free of me while I'm alive. Try to do better than that with what I've given you, alright?"

I nodded, but there were tears in my eyes now. I'd only just found the place where I belonged, and it was about to be torn away from me. I tightened my grip on the tentacles that still penetrated me, caressing them as best I could.

"Good girl. A little more work on your form, please. Human girls only have two breasts, and they aren't the size of basketballs. Any last questions?"

I groped through the fog of memory that was slowly returning. He'd promised me information about something. "Um... Cauldron? Entities? Why can I feel my shards?"

He shrugged. "There's something different about the one I got. It doesn't talk, exactly, but it lets me know things. You've read some of the data on the Entities people see in their trigger visions, right?"

I nodded, and he went on. "Right. From what I've been able to piece together, there were two of those things approaching Earth. One of them is responsible for giving powers to everyone who triggers. The other one died somehow, and Cauldron's power-granting formula is made from its body. But the second Entity encountered a third one not long before it died, and exchanged a lot of shards with it. Some of them didn't get assimilated before the second entity died, and I got one of those."

"I'm not sure what the real purpose of the shards is, but ours act differently than normal ones. Most of them are like little robots sent out with strict instructions, and once they plant themselves in someone they just kind of sit there being the mechanism that makes powers work. Mine has always been more active, and a lot more cooperative. It doesn't understand humans at all, but it tries to be helpful. The child shard we gave you should be the same. I think it's supposed to be better at understanding humans, or at least give you a more controllable version of our powers."

There was a hollow boom of metal on metal not far away, and Master flinched.

"Time's up, Taylor. Be brave, be strong, and good luck."

Then the tentacles sped up again, and I couldn't focus on anything but pleasure until long after the fighting was over.

August 17, 2011

"You don't have to push yourself, Taylor," Jessica said soothingly. "No one expects you to just go back on patrol like nothing happened."

I sighed. "You're not getting it. Look, I appreciate the sentiment, and I'm completely on board with the whole `make sure Taylor hasn't been turned into a psycho' part of this program. But you're treating me like a rape victim, and I'm not."

Jessica's face adopted a careful blankness. "No?"

I sighed in exasperation. "I know Mindscramble banged me like a drum, Jessica. Believe me, that's an experience I'll never forget. I just don't have the instincts that would make it feel like rape anymore. I've read those links you gave me, but all that stuff they talk about? I don't feel anything like that."

"What do you feel?" My therapist asked carefully.

"Bored. Frustrated, like a caged tiger in a zoo. But about getting kidnapped and used by a monster villain? It was an amazing experience, and I'm completely fine with it. I wish he'd survived capture, actually. Can you imagine how fun it would be to have someone like that as a nemesis?"

"Taylor? You're, um, radiating a bit."

"What? Oh, sorry." I cut off the aphrodisiac scent with an effort. I noticed she was a bit flushed, and grimaced.

"Damn, I'm really going to have to practice controlling that. Not that I wouldn't happily seduce you, but intellectually I know it would cause all kinds of problems."

"Ahem. Yes, please don't seduce your therapist, Taylor. So, you identified as heterosexual before. How do you feel about this change in orientation?"

I leaned back on the couch and smiled. "It's kind of neat, actually. It's like I used to have this huge Rube Goldberg maze of instincts in my head that made everything related to sex and relationships incredibly complicated, and now it's all been swept out of the way. It makes things very simple. If I like someone I'll be happy to have sex with them, it doesn't matter what gender they are. As horny as I've been since I woke up, I'm really hoping I can find someone who's interested."

She eyed my new body for a moment, and looked away. "I, ah, suspect that won't be a problem, Taylor."

Before Mindscramble took me I'd been tall, skinny and a bit lacking up top. Now my human disguise had curves a porn star would kill for, and I could adjust the details at will. Yeah, I didn't think it would be a problem.

"So, these changes don't concern you?"

I sighed. "Of course they do, Jessica. From the inside it feels like I'm completely sane and perfectly well adjusted, but everyone keeps looking at me like I'm nuts. Part of me is terrified that I'm going to turn out to be hopelessly broken somehow. I already know I'm going to have to go around reminding myself not to seduce every attractive person I meet for the rest of my life. But what if there's something more serious that I'm just not getting anymore?"

"Well, let's address that. How do you feel about killing people, Taylor?"

Oh, boy. This was going to be a loooooong session.

But I could control myself. I was a patient, calculating predator, not a rampaging monster like Echidna. I could behave myself while the PRT reassured themselves that I was as sane as I felt. Wait out however many weeks or months it took them to restore me to active duty, and then score them a few victories with my newly expanded powers.

Then, when their thinkers had moved on to more urgent problems, I'd make my move.

January 13, 2012

F.O.R.R.E.A.L.

Communicating with Victoria was a painfully slow process, and the specialist's plodding approach to the endless recitation of letters didn't help. But she was by far the best choice available, so I suffered through it.

"For real, Victoria. But this is the first time I've ever done this, and there are side effects. I've got permission to try it on you if you agree, but I need to walk you through the pros and cons first. Ok?"

The face at the center of the room blinked twice, firmly. "That's a yes," the specialist said tonelessly.

"Alright. The first thing you have to understand is, this isn't a healing power. A few months ago I was caught by a villain whose power basically turned him into an inhuman sex monster, and he passed on a piece of that to me. One of the powers I got is the ability to assume a sexy form, which is how I pass for human now. I can do something similar to you, and then you should be able to shift back into yourself. Well, close enough at any rate. You can see I'm not exactly the skinny nerdgirl I used to be."

YES. H.O.T.

I smiled. "Thank you, Victoria. So, there are some other side effects. I've picked up a stranger power that keeps people from noticing anything abnormal about me, which helps a lot if I slip up with the shapeshifting. For example, your facilitator here thinks I look completely human right now. Don't you?"

I waved my tail at her, and the middle-aged woman eyed me dubiously. "Yes, Miss Hebert. Implausible top-heavy, but human."

I smirked, and turned my attention back to Victoria. "See? So that's a plus. Physically I'm classed as a Brute 3 now, and I'm pretty sure that will stack with the powers you already have. That's the good side. But the down side is pretty scary looking."

I shifted. My tail grew two feet in length, and the end split into a half-dozen tentacles tipped with an intimidating assortment of meaty knobs, suction tips, tendril fringes and grasping digits. Victoria's eyes went wide.

"Exactly," I said. "This involves sex, Victoria. Probably a day or so of kinky, twisted, depraved stuff that no normal person would want anything to do with. It all seems like great fun to me now, and if we do this you'll probably end up liking it. You can't go through something like this and not have it affect you. They tell me that my sexual instincts have been completely rewritten with this nymphomaniac predator mindset, and the same thing will happen to you."

"Now, as someone who's already gone through this I have to say that I'm pretty happy being what I am. I'm still me. I still care about the same things I did before, and I don't usually have any trouble acting like a normal person. But it's up to you. If you want to take the chance I'll be happy to try to make you like me, and I'm pretty sure it will work. If not, I'll find someone else and you can wait for the next cape with a suitable power to come along."

"So, what do you think?"

W.H.Y.M.E.

"Huh. It's true, we weren't exactly friends. But I never thought of us as enemies, either. I certainly never wanted anything like this to happen to you. I suppose I still feel some guilt, for not being able to save Amy before Jack Slash got to her."

"Of course, the PRT is letting me do this because they want you back, and they figure even if it doesn't work there's not much chance of making things worse."

U.G.L.Y.

I sighed, and let my eyes roam over the artfully arranged landscape of feminine curves that filled most of the room. Wide hips flowing into strong shoulders decorated with perfect breasts. Narrow waists and flat tummies arranged in delicate columns, arching backs and parted lips, feet with toes permanently curled in ecstasy. Each individual part was a vision of perfection, and the whole scene was enough to make my breath catch in my throat. The humans all thought her condition was horrifying, but to me she was beautiful.

My perceptions warped with a sharp sting of neural reconstruction, and suddenly I could see her the way they did. A twisted ruin of disfigured flesh, so disturbing it was hard to look at. But right now that was a useless perspective. I blinked it away, and felt my broodmistress shard shift the pattern back into storage. Maybe someday I could call it back out and try it on again, but for now I needed to be a monster.

"You aren't ugly to me, Victoria. No, seriously, I told you my perceptions were warped, didn't I? I think I see you the way Amy did, at the end."

L.O.V.E.A.M.Y.

"I know. However this works out, I promise you I won't get in the way of that. Maybe we can even get her out someday."

D.O.I.T.

"Alright, Victoria. There's some paperwork the PRT guys want filled out first, and then we'll give it a try..."

January 14, 2012

Sunrise found us cuddled into each other's arms, basking in the afterglow. I'd finally released my hold on human form during the night, returning to the hungry mass of probing appendages and gaping orifices that was my natural state. The form Amy had given Victoria had plenty of targets for my efforts, and once the brood shard I'd planted in one of her wombs took hold her broken submission quickly blossomed into eager acceptance and reciprocation.

Not that her transformation was anything like mine. Instead, I was currently buried in a pile of Glory Girl duplicates. The ones that held me in front and behind were human sized, but there were dozens more ranging from half-size all the way down to insect scale. A few of the latter had explored far inside my body during the night, and were currently celebrating their discovery of my secret spawning chambers with an impromptu orgy. The insect soldiers I'd been breeding weren't really equipped to join in, but fixing that had proved trivial.

"Your girls are insatiable," I giggled.

"Mmm hmm. I've been in heat for months with no relief, so don't expect that to change anytime soon. You know, I keep having this urge to call you Mistress."

I hugged the Victoria in front of me. "That's fine for sex games, but not in real life. The last thing I need is mindless, brainwashed minions."

The Victoria behind me shifted, hands cupping at breasts. "How about smart, loyal ass-kicking minions? You saved me from a fate worse than death, Taylor. I'd love you for that even if you weren't my... whatever this feeling is."

"I know, Victoria. I feel it too, you know. We're linked now, part of something greater. We'll never be alone again."

A tiny Victoria landed on one of my exposed breasts, and grinned at me. "I pity the fool that tries to separate us. We carry each other's seeds, don't we? If one of us dies we'll be reborn, just like the Blasphemies. Did you get some of my power in there, too?"

I felt the fresh bud hidden in my belly, slowly linking with the others. It had appeared at the height of Victoria's transformation, when her human self was completely lost to sensation. My broodmistress shard had suddenly pounced on her symbiote, partially merging with it in a way that I suspected was some kind of alien sex thing. Then the change peaked, and it... gave birth? Fissioned? The latter might be more technically correct, but it had felt like the former. It was a living, healthy child shard I'd gained from the transaction, not a copy or fragment.

"Yeah, I did," I told her. "That was kind of unexpected. So was your natural form, actually. How are you doing with the multiple-bodies thing?"

"I love it!" All the Victorias responded in unison. "It's like there are a hundred and sixty-three of me, but we're all still the same person. You know, I'm not sure Amy realized she'd made so many copies of my brain."

Yeah. Discovering that the Victoria we were communicating with wasn't the only one trapped in that body was a shock. The others had all been so badly miswired they couldn't even communicate by blinking, and half of them didn't even have sense organs beyond a few random patches of skin. Needless to say, they'd all been bugfuck crazy.

We'd fixed them all, my shard and I. Read off the intact bits and copied them where they were needed, smoothed gross structures back to human baseline and substituted bits of myself in the places there was nothing better to work with. The cascade merger that turned them into a single person without killing anyone had been amazingly complex, too. Probably not something my shard invented on the spot, though I couldn't imagine why it would have developed such an ability.

"Glad to hear it. But we need to put in an appearance soon or someone's liable to come in. Think you can pull yourself together?"

"Let me give it a try."

Two pint-sized Victorias embraced, kissed and began to flow together, their flesh stretching like taffy. More joined them, merging one by one, growing slowly until they reached human size. I showed her how to fold her extra mass into higher-dimensional space, and she got it right on the second try.

A few minutes later there was just one Victoria. A naked vision of perfection, still glistening with sweat and other fluids. I couldn't resist kissing her, and she returned the gesture affectionately.

"Can I keep a tail out, like you do?" She asked when we came up for air. "It feels weird not having anything I can use as a dick."

I laughed. "That's fine, Victoria. Just don't let people see it, and try to resist the temptation to play with girls in skirts.

"Aww, that's no fun," she pouted.

April 1, 2012 (During Endbringer Attack)

"This hardly seems the time for such a discussion," Doctor Mother said disapprovingly. "We gathered you all here to deal with the Endbringer situation."

"On the contrary, this is the perfect time," I disagreed. "Everyone is here, and there's no telling what secrets you all have in your basements. All the factions need to know that this option exists."

"What are the parameters?" Dragon asked briskly, as if she didn't already know.

"My power will only work on female capes, and they have to have a biological body and the ability to have sex," I outlined. "I can only do one or two in a given month, and in the long run no more than a dozen or so total. But as far as I can tell the transformation can fix anything as long as those requirements are met. So if any of you have a powerful cape who's crippled because her power screwed up her body, or drove her crazy, or just decided to manifest in a stupidly broken way, I can probably fix it."

"By making them like you," the C.U.I. representative said. "Why should we give you more slaves?"

"I'm not a slave!" Glory Girl growled. "My god, do you people have any idea what Weaver saved me from? After that I'd follow her anywhere even if I wasn't in love with her."

Oh, they knew. Half the room had stared when she walked in with me, and my reputation for impossible feats was growing by leaps and bounds now. I had to play this very carefully, or my own allies might decide I was too dangerous to walk free.

"My power doesn't necessarily make people follow me," I explained. "Yes, it creates a strong emotional attachment, but it doesn't erase previous loyalties. If you treat your people well there's every chance that someone I've helped will come back to you. But even if they don't, anything that can help with the Endbringers might be worth it. We won't be ready to fight this time, but at the rate these attacks are coming now we need to think ahead."

"So, are there any takers?"

There was silence for a long moment. Most of the faction leaders were stone-faced, but I noticed a lot of significant glances being traded by their subordinates. Then there was movement.

"Labyrinth? No!"

She drifted into the center of the room like a leaf on a breeze, her eyes sliding vaguely from face to face as she moved. The redhead that followed her whispered urgently in her ear, but she paid her friend no heed. Her eyes closed for a moment, and she seemed to gather herself. Then they opened, and locked on mine.

"Please," she breathed, her voice strained as if it was all she could to do produce a single word. From what I knew of her, if this was a bad day that might actually be the case.

I glanced at Faultline. The tough, hardened mercenary leader looked old, suddenly. "If you hurt her, I will never forgive you."

"If I hurt someone like her, I'll never forgive myself," I replied. "Um, I'm sorry to talk around you Labyrinth, but... Faultline, is she actually together enough to make this kind of decision? I don't want there to be any hard feelings here, and there's no going back once this is done."

"She knows what she's doing," Faultline admitted grudgingly. "Her power makes it hard for her to interact with the world, but she's as sharp as anyone on the inside."

The most powerful Shaker in the world. Well, I certainly wasn't going to turn that down.

I nodded. "Alright, then. I-"

"What about me?" another voice interrupted. I turned, to find that the speaker was the odd conglomeration of tendrils wrapped around Weld. The face of a teenage girl peeked over his shoulder, but she didn't seem to have a body.

Weld gave her a concerned look. "How would that work, Sveta? She said she needs... um..."

"I still have my parts," Sveta blushed. "They're just arranged weird. Please, Weaver? I know I'm not as useful as someone like Labyrinth, but I don't want to hurt any more people. If you take me I'll be able to control myself, right?"

Her tendrils tightened, digging trenches into Weld's steel body. Damn, that was a lot of strength. If she could control it, she'd be an amazing melee combatant. But this would be a tricky one.

"Yes, that's right. But I don't think I'm invulnerable enough to survive doing the transformation on you. Unless you're willing to keep acting as a human bondage fixture until we're done, Weld?"

Steel can't blush, but Sveta turned red enough for both of them.

"If that's what it takes," he said steadily. "Us monsters have to stick together."

I smiled. "Alright, sounds like a plan. But you're planning to join the fight today, right? It takes me a couple of days to do this right, so how about I start with Labyrinth and then catch up with you two after the fight?"

April 7, 2012

The walls were alive, a pulsing mass of living flesh like something out of an alien horror movie. Soft cries of feminine pleasure echoed through the warm, humid air of the tunnels, and the scent of desire permeated everything.

It was incredibly cozy, here inside Elle's new pocket dimension. The four of us congregated in a rounded chamber barely big enough to contain us all, but no one minded the tight fit. We cuddled together, comfortably appreciative of one another's nakedness, a steady flow of little kisses and caresses reinforcing the bond we all felt.

"Alright, the first meeting of the sexy vixen association is hereby called to order," Victoria announced grandly. "Mistress Taylor presiding, of course."

They all giggled at that.

"I suppose I'll let you get away with that this time," I chided. "But seriously, don't let yourselves get in the habit. It's the same reason I said to stay in human form as much as possible, and be restrained about sexplay. If we lose touch with our human selves all we'll have left to fall back on is the brood instincts the shards give us, and they don't exactly have a good track record for engineering sane minds."

Elle nodded seriously. "Taylor's right. I haven't been able to think this clearly since before I triggered, and it's been so long since I could talk properly that I barely remember how. Hold on to what's left of your humanity, all of you. Nothing good comes of letting it go."

"You don't have to convince me," Sveta put in. "I have hands! I can control my tendrils! This morning I visited a coffee shop and didn't kill anyone. I'm not giving this up for anything."

I patted her thigh. "Glad to hear it. So, we need to take stock, and plan. Elle, Sveta, I can feel both of your seeds now. You both have mine as well, right? How are your powers feeling?"

"I've never had so much control," Elle said happily. "I can make these pocket dimensions stable now, and they'll last forever as long as I don't leave for too long. I can maintain fixed portals to Earth, or open a new one anywhere I have a seed at will. It's too bad we can't communicate between here and Earth, or I'd be able to pull you back any time you get into trouble. Oh, and I can make creatures now. Nothing intelligent, but an army of minions to guard me and keep me entertained when I'm alone here sounds like a good idea."

"You don't ever have to be alone, Elle," Victoria reassured her. "If you decide to live here instead of Earth I'll make sure I always leave some of me here to keep you company."

"Which solves the communication issue," I pointed out. "From now on I suggest you keep a few pixie bodies with each of us, actually. That way if any of us get in trouble Elle can bail us out easily."

"You guys have such awesome powers," Sveta griped. "All I can do is kill things really well. I'm basically just a Brute."

"Sometimes that's exactly what's needed," I observed. "But if you're patient I think we'll be able to give you another power. How would you like to be able to fly like Victoria?"

She gasped. "Really? How?"

I smiled. "Being broodmother means I can feel all of our shards. They're all healthy, and growing faster than before. I think our connections nourish them somehow. Anyway, I think we're going to be able to gift each other with child shards every few months until we all have versions of each other's powers."

Sveta clapped her hands, and Victoria smiled gleefully. But it was Elle who really got it. She froze for a long moment, and the color slowly drained from her face.

"Taylor? We're an S-class threat, aren't we?"

I nodded reluctantly. "Yes. It's a slower buildup than Nilbog, but the power sharing actually makes it worse. If I wanted to build an army I could eventually make each of you a broodmother like me, and you could each recruit a brood of your own. In the long run it's an exponential process, and the bigger we get the stronger we are. If someone like the Protectorate figures that out now they'll probably try to kill us."

"But... we're heroes, not villains," Victoria said uncertainly.

"If I told you to go collect a few dozen cute college girls to turn into broodling fucktoys for us to share around, would you hesitate?"

She opened her mouth, and closed it again. Frowned. "That's fucked up. No, I wouldn't. Hell, I'd happily murder most of the world for you, Taylor."

"Exactly. And I used to be Skitter, the ruthless villain who took over a city and killed Alexandria. They don't trust my motivations, and most of them never will. That's why we need to keep a low profile, and act as natural as we can until we're ready to make our move."

"What happens then, mistress?" Elle asked.

Oh, she was a smart one. Affirming her loyalty and reminding me not to lose my humanity, all in the same breath. I leaned over Sveta to kiss her.

"First we stop Jack Slash, and save the world," I told her. "Then we find out where the Endbringers are coming from, and put a stop to it. Then, assuming we get that far, we help police the other S-class threats. We're going to be humanity's first real S-class ally, girls. We just have to work things so they let us help."

"What if they don't?" Sveta asked. "What if they decide we're just monsters they need to kill?"

"Then we leave. We already know how to travel to other worlds. Somewhere we'll find a civilization that isn't run by idiots."

Skitter / Panacea

(non — forced Skitter / Panacea relationship)

(Автор: ShaperV)

I hurt everywhere.

I clawed my way slowly back to wakefulness. It was all wrong. Why did I hurt so much? I didn't fight, and I always kept myself in good shape. What happened to me?

Memory returned. Fleeing from Siberian. Skitter of all people trying to help me. But I'd been a little too slow getting out of that building, and the monster had brought it down on me. Somehow the Undersiders had led her away after that, and dug me out. But I'd been half-crushed by falling concrete, too dazed to heal myself.

Then the long, terrifying battle against the rest of the Nine. I'd only caught flashes here and there, in between bits of healing. Myself, the first time I'd ever really tried to work around my power's limitations. Hellhound's dogs. Skitter, at one point, and I remember being amazed that she was even standing. She was hurt worse than I was, but she shrugged it off like it was nothing.

Then the bombs. It was a stupid idea, and the PRT had fucked it all up. They'd gotten some of them, but Jack Slash and Siberian had escaped. And Victoria...

I curled around the mangled lump of flesh in my arms, and cried. Just a head, and a lump of improvised organs in suspended animation. Could I even begin to fix this?

"Amy? Shh, it'll be ok. We're safe here."

An arm around my shoulders. Bare skin touched mine through the ragged tears in both our costumes, and my power automatically catalogued her body. Only one arm, because Siberian had torn the other one off while she was buying time for me to run away. Second and third degree burns over a third of her body, partly treated by me in a spare moment. Three fractured ribs, a concussion, blunt trauma everywhere, a metabolism on the ragged edge of collapse... and she was comforting me.

She wasn't a girl, she was a force of nature.

"Skitter? Where are we?"

"My lair," she answered. "I've got food when you're ready for it, and no one is going to bother us here. You said you could save her with time and biomass, right?"

I checked my sister's vitals again, and nodded. "I think so. I... thank you, Skitter. We'd both be dead if you hadn't helped."

"You saved us too," she pointed out. "Especially after Bonesaw unleashed her plague. Come on, let's get some breakfast in you."

I didn't talk much as I ate. I probably seemed like I was in shock, but it took concentration to coax what was left of Victoria into eating. I put the added biomass to good use, expanding her life support suite into a proper digestive system, and then spared a few minutes to see what I could do for my own injuries with modified bacteria. But that took only half my attention, and the other half was observing.

Skitter's `henchmen' were a couple of teenage girls. She had to be in agonizing pain, but she ignored it in favor of conferring with them as she ate. It gave me a pretty good picture of what she actually did here. Which was apparently taking care of orphans, organizing relief efforts, and making sure her people were safe.

I kept expecting her to ask me to heal her, but she didn't say a word about it. Finally I realized she wasn't going to. She knew I needed to focus on keeping Victoria alive, and she was going to go right on ignoring her injuries for as long as it took for me to decide to get around to helping her. Or not, as the case may be.

It made me feel ashamed. How could she be so strong, when I was so weak? What right did I have to call her a monster, when she'd fought so hard to protect us? Why did I think labels like `hero' and `villain' meant anything at all, when it was the PRT that got my sister killed?

"Skitter?" I said hesitantly. "Can I... stay?"

"Of course you can," she said instantly. "Didn't I already say that? Take as long as you need, Amy."

"No," I shook my head. "I... I can't go home, and I won't help those bastards." I clenched my fist, and had to stop for a moment. "What I mean is... can I work for you?"

I'd surprised her. She studied me for a long moment.

"I'd be stupid to turn you down," she finally said. "But why? I had the impression you don't think much of me?"

"I don't know what to think anymore. About you, or the PRT, or anything. But I've seen the way you fight to protect your people, and you always seem to know what to do. I feel like I'm losing my mind, Skitter. Please, don't let me do anything stupid."

"Alright, Amy. I can do that. I take it you don't want to join the Undersiders?"

"No! Keep that bitch Tattletale away from me, please. It's her fault half of this happened. If she hadn't run her mouth off in front of Victoria at the bank..."

"Yeah. No problem, Amy. You don't have to see her if you don't want to. Um, is there anything else I can do for you right now?"

I rolled my eyes. "Come here, you crazy woman. Let me fix you up before you fall over."

I was afraid she'd judge me for what I'd done to Victoria, but I could take care of that. As I healed her injuries I spared a thread of attention to investigate her brain, and make a few subtle tweaks. Really, it was just more healing. The poor girl was practically asexual for some reason, and I was sure she could use a little happiness in her life. Giving her a new kink or two was more invasive, but really it was a harmless thing. I just didn't want her to judge me.

I was sure it would work right this time. I had a lot more time to work on it, and there was no reason for her mind to fight what I'd done. Besides, I'd have plenty of opportunity to make adjustments.

"You should eat more," I advised as I worked. "You're in good shape, but you're too skinny for this line of work."

"I haven't exactly had a lot of time to worry about it," she replied dryly. "Hmm. Is that something you can affect? Muscle tone, aerobic endurance, that kind of thing?"

I blinked in surprise. "I never thought about it. Yes, I suppose I could do that."

"How about what Bonesaw did to the rest of the Nine? Making them superhumanly durable?"

"That's easy," I admitted, surprised at the answers my power was giving me. "I've never tried it before, but I can see lots of options. Tweak your musculature for higher strength at the cost of increased metabolic load, and retool your digestive system for fast processing of small meals. That would make enough space for a backup heart, an armored rib cage, tougher blood vessels — oh, natural weapons! Rending claws don't work well on human hands, but how about cutting blades with a mechanism for injecting poison into the wound?"

I suddenly realized what I was saying, and ground to a stop. But instead of recoiling in horror she just smiled at me.

"Let's take that one step at a time, shall we? I appreciate the inventiveness, but I'm hoping I won't have to go quite that far. It's nice to be able to walk down the street without making people run screaming."

— oOoOo — ?

It took two days to coax Victoria's ruined body into absorbing enough mass to resume a human form. But when I sat down to finish the project I encountered an unexpected problem.

"Taylor? I need help. Something isn't right here."

My new boss looked up from the costumes she was weaving and blanched. "Yeah, having arms growing out of her chest would be a problem. What can I do?"

"I don't know. I don't understand, this has never happened before. I can't feel what she's supposed to look like."

Taylor frowned. "You mean your power isn't giving you the normal feedback? I know you've healed lots of amputations before. Any idea what might be different here?"

She came over to put an arm around me, and I leaned against her as I tried to think. "Lots of things. Crawler's acid was one of the worst things I've ever tried to heal, and I have trouble with things other powers have affected. The biomass from your bugs was nonhuman, and I've never needed to rebuild a whole body. But I can't screw this up!"

She wrapped me in a hug, and I felt a moment of satisfaction that I'd made time to finish healing her. I felt so safe in her arms.

"Ok, calm down Amy, we'll figure this out. Sometimes it feels like my power is doing some kind of genetic analysis on insects to figure out how they work, and I know it had trouble with the relay bugs you made for me. Maybe there's a similar problem here? You made her body out of so many kinds of tissue the genetics are probably scrambled, but her brain still has her original genes. Right?"

That did make sense. I gingerly extended my power into Victoria's brain, being careful not to touch anything. Well, anything else. I'd been forced to do a lot of manipulation to keep her calm, but that was all low-level stuff. Was there an intact pattern there I could use?

Mammal. Bipedal. Female. Caucasian. Yes! I heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank god. You're right, that's working. I don't know what I'd do without you, Taylor. If I'd panicked there, I don't know what would have happened."

The lump of flesh on the pallet was slowly assuming a familiar shape now. Taylor stayed where she was, holding me in her arms with her head resting atop mine, and watched. For the first time in days I felt like things were going to work out.

"Amy, did you make me gay?"

I froze. She wasn't supposed to realize that! Now she was going to hate me. What should I do?

She chuckled, and mussed my hair. "Naughty girl. You were supposed to be relying on me for sanity checks, remember? Now I'm going to have to punish you."

I swallowed. I'd had so many fantasies that started like this. But they'd all been about Victoria, not Taylor. Now I was even more confused than before.

"I'm sorry, Taylor. I've been a bad girl."

What was I saying? Just because I was a sick, twisted excuse for a human being didn't mean she was going to order me to...

"Take off your skirt, and bend over," she said sternly.

I gushed.

"Yes, ma'am!"

It was a long time before we got back to restoring Victoria.

Tentacle Taylor

(Автор: minuseven)

Once upon a time, the Entities absorbed a luxurious world, savage and beautiful. There was a curious life-form on that planet. It was a symbiont of sort, a roaming species that attacked others and, after subduing them, had intercourse with its prey. It laid its seed inside them, leaving its prey to be the host-mother of new individuals. But unlike other parasites and opportunists, this species took care of the host-mothers, ensuring more and healthier children, at the cost of a larger energy expenditure.

Taylor Hebert didn't know any of that. But she knew some things. Namely:

1. She was a parahuman.

Well, now she did. It was weird though because... Well, she had done some research and she didn't think that triggering while masturbating fit the norm. She also wasn't going to ask anybody who could know. No way.

2. She had tentacles.

Not always! But... Yeah, she had tentacles under her skin that she bring up and control just as well as any other limb. They could be strong or supple, smooth or coarse, soft or hard. As long as she wanted them, plain or with nubs or smaller tentacles, straight or forked or with holes or phallic.

3. She felt horny.

That was an understatement.

Taylor was dying. She needed something up in her pussy. And she needed it now. Ramming her again and again and again. She whimpered, rolled on top of her covers and tried reaching deeper inside herself, three fingers pumping in steadily inside of her. Her other hand played roughly with one of her swollen nipples. It wasn't enough. Copious amounts of fluids ran down her tights and soaked her sheets. She added her small finger to the other three, spreading her pussy even more. That a couple of days before she hadn't been able to do it didn't even enter her mind. It was more worried about the burning need in the loins of its body.

It still wasn't enough.

With a yell, Taylor gave up. Her fingers continued going at it, unable to stop. She had to find some relief. Somewhere. Her new appendages squirmed under her skin, threatening to manifest involuntarily in her state. Taylor was pretty sure the fire that had grown in her lower abdomen for a few days before becoming unbearable was their fault. But finally, she relented. There had to be some reason why her tentacles could look dick-like and secrete fluids. An obvious reason.

Moaning, she made one simple but thick tentacle sprout from her tailbone. It was sensitive and the feeling of cold air on it made her shiver and harden it. The penis comparisons were so obvious that any doubt she had disappeared right then and there. Her powers were made for sex. And she needed some sexing up right that instant.

She removed her fingers, panting. The absence made her cunt throb even more. She soldiered through and spread her slit with her finger, carefully positioning her tentacle in front of it, ready for penetration. Then, like ripping a band-aid, she thrust it in.

"Oh! Oh!"

The feeling of being filled so completely for the first time, and of filling something, wet warm walls around her, nearly pushed her over the edge. She swore she saw stars. She started moving her hips on reflex, combining it with the opposite movement of her tentacle-tail, thrusting in and out of her pussy, faster and rougher each time.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God..." She repeated the litany until the words were nothing more than high-pitched shrieks, speech dissolving as her brain was filled with far more important sensations. She screamed as the orgasm ripped through her, once, then twice, pleasure exploding inside her until she didn't know up from down.

When Taylor came down from her first orgasmic high, she found herself spread out over her bed, hands resting on her small breasts. Which she swore were just slightly bigger after getting her powers. Which made sense now. Since, well, her powers were for sex. On the one hand, that was disappoint. No Alexandria worthy heroics for poor Taylor Hebert. On the other hand... Fuck. Yes. She had the strangest urge to go to the computer and check out if tentacle porn existed.

Taylor would soon learn that if it exists, there is porn of it. Yes, even of Endbringers. Particularly of the Simurgh. For obvious reasons.


* * *

Taylor was at the mall. She leaned on the first storey's handrail, looking down at the reduced crowds the shopping center had during a Saturday morning. Considering the day was an epitome of summer, clear sky and warm sun, it was natural to expect most people to actually be outdoors. Like on the beach. Which was probably why she was receiving so many weird looks, considering her dark long-sleeved attire. But it was necessary. People would be freaked out by her tentacles, and she didn't quite have complete control over them when she was feeling horny yet.

Anyway.

Taylor was here because, again, of sex. It wasn't like she was picking up girls, no siree! Seriously! She was just... evaluating the panorama. Just getting a feel for it. Like she had had a feel of that blonde's ass in the bus and then seen her rip into the guy standing next to her. Taylor should probably be feeling more conflicted about all of it. The sex, the lesbian tendencies... Did she even count as a girl anymore? Men had boobs too. Kinda... And the entire thing with thinking sexual assault as acceptable.

But the fact was Taylor needed the sex. She had made some painstakingly experiments and discovered she could go up to a week maximum without having sex of any kind, before she went sex-crazy, three days being the limit of comfort. Masturbation was ok, but she had a feeling that the real thing would satiate her much more. Hence the mall visit. There had to be a market for tentacles somewhere out there. Taylor was realizing, belatedly, that she should probably try seedier places for that. Still, she thought as she watched a girl in a short skirt pass her by through the corner of the eye, worth it.

She wondered idly if she could pass herself as a guy by binding her chest and extruding one of her tentacles from the pubic region. People didn't always get totally naked for sex.

She turned away from the handrail and started following the girl from before, keeping an eye not on her but on her reflection on the shops' glass fronts. No need for her target to know she was being stalked. Purely for information, mind you! She was just researching into the habits of the fascinating creatures normal women were. Knowing the areas they frequented the most, which ones were crowded or isolated, knowing what kind of friends they had and when they were together and weren't, where they hate, what kind of sports they practiced, like contact sports perhaps?

And if they had... And the target was meeting up with a guy. Shit. Taylor turned into a clothing store, giving up on that one. A shame, but well...

She started browsing the items on display. She wasn't even pretending. It had been quite a while since the last time she had gone shopping. Not exactly her style, but if she was going to start blending in with the nice-looking ones she might as well invest into something a little bit more out there. Something large enough for her to get her appendages out comfortably preferably. In an effort to ignore both her very light wallet and the side-glances that the employee at the register was giving her, she turned to look for a red t-shirt of her size and saw the poster.

The poster was just one of those large images with a girl in a pose while wearing the store's clothing. Standard publicity. But that girl... Taylor's eyes roamed up, t-shirt forgotten. The promised legs under the jeans, those hips, ready for the grabbing, the flat stomach barely revealed, those breasts, full and round, the inviting curve of the neck, and her face. Her face, framed by red locks, was one Taylor knew very, very well.

Emma.

Taylor did not think of the bullies during summer. She did not think of Emma. Summer was when she could relax. It was the one time in the year when she could spend weeks without being tormented by them. And now, looking at the smiling face of her, very hot, former best friend, Taylor felt a fire light up inside of her. She grabbed one of the promotional pamphlets lying around and strode out of the store and into the closest bathroom.

Quickly checking that all the stalls were empty, she locked herself into the furthest away from the door and opened the pamphlet, drinking in the images. Emma appeared in several of them. She looked flawless, product of both good photography techniques and her own looks, complemented by professionally applied make-up. None of them were swimsuit photos but Taylor wasn't really fixated on that. No, her eyes were more focussed on Emma's smile. Emma had no right to make her feel like that. Not while she was smiling. She unbuttoned her jeans with one hand and dove her fingers inside her panties, rubbing and prodding. If Emma was going to get her hot, it would be on her own terms. After all that she'd done, all the betrayals and the bullying, Taylor wanted nothing more than to see her cry for once. She imagined what it would be like.

Emma's blue eyes sparkling with tears, her sniffles and cries, her moans... Had Emma had sex yet? It wasn't like she lacked admirers or like she wasn't willing to paste her face and body all over posters, the slut. Had any of them ever grabbed her butt or groped her breasts? The modeling world was full of scandalous relationships, like a promoter and an underage model. Setting Emma apart, threatening her budding career, promising her his best. One kiss, so simple. Then came the tongue and Emma would sputter but he'd grab her chin and make her. Tongues fighting obscenely until she gave up. It was just the beginning if she really wanted to keep being a model. He'd touch and have those breasts in his hands while she bit her tongue to keep silent. And when she was all wet and ready, he'd get her on her knees and whip out his cock. And Emma would suck it. All eager to please, too far into the act to back down then, red hair bouncing, full lips wrapped around the throbbing, smelly flesh, a flash of tongue tongue here and there... Her teary eyes as she looked up to Taylor and swallowed...

"Fuck!"

Taylor panted, slumped on the toilet seat. She had one of her tentacles protruding from her front like a dick, one hand wrapped around it. The tip shone with fluids and she grabbed some toilet paper to clean herself. Great. She had just jacked off, so to say, to an image of Emma in the mall's bathroom. A part of her felt repulsed. Another part had very different ideas.

Taylor had just found who she was going to have sex with first.


* * *

A stalker's essential kit: binoculars, camera, gloves, sunglasses, bandanna, cap, notebook and writing implement, water bottle, book and a copy of the day's newspaper. A backpack for the whole set and an excuse in case you were caught. This applied to areas where such items wouldn't be overly suspicious. For example: binoculars and a notebook and she could pass as a bird watcher near the beach. On the other hand, everything went into the backpack when she pretended to be a jogger, and the newspaper came out when she sat down on a coffee shop. That she was a girl dispelled any suspicions people might have regarding her. Double standards being useful for once.

Taylor was becoming a bloody expert on the business.

It was like hunting. She chose a prey and stalked her. Observing her habits, which places she frequented the most, the routes and routines. She reveled in the hunt, knowing one day she would get her hands on the prize. And a what a prize it was. Emma had certainly grown up. It was so very obvious when she went to the beach, wearing one of her well-fitting bikinis.

So, apparently, her power wasn't just sex. No. It was sexual predation.

She had read a few articles about the whole parahuman debate. There were two camps about the issue. Either powers screwed with people's head, which called for a witch hunt or better PRT support depending on the extremists, or it was just human nature and everybody was fucked either way. Taylor had definite proof that the first camp was right. She was, after all, stalking her former best friend turned tormentor in order to drag her into a back alley and thoroughly rape her. There was no amount of snapping because of bullying that justified her complete nonchalance. Her downright eagerness. Oh well, who cared anyway?

Emma would be leaving the beach soon. Taylor closed her book, got up from her seat and walked to the counter to pay for her cola. If there was one thing she disliked about this whole stalking thing was that Emma always chose the good beaches in front of the Boardwalk. It was really easy to lose her from view in the middle of all those hot babes and the prices on the Boardwalk's esplanades were absurd. Highway robbery! Taylor moaned the loss of another part of her very limited money. She would have to look into an alternate source of income soon. She had a few ideas revolving about the sex industry, since her mind lived in the gutter nowadays, but she wanted to get to Emma first. Speaking of whom... Emma and Sophia, who she had met on the Boardwalk, were climbing the stairs from the beach. If they turned... And they were walking in her direction.

Fuck. She couldn't turn away now. It would look really suspicious and you didn't want to look suspicious on the Boardwalk lest the security find you disrupting. Taylor was reasonably sure could fight off the security mercenaries, because normal cops they weren't, but that would mean revealing her powers. Which was a big no-no. Steeling herself, she lowered her head and focussed all of her attention on her shoes. No need to look up, she'd just pass Emma and Sophia by and nobody would even notice her...

Luck was not on her side.

Her shoulder collided painfully with somebody else and she spun around, clutching at it. She looked up to whoever she had stumbled into with an apology on her lips... and froze.

Sophia sneered at her.

Danger.

Beside her Emma was saying something but Taylor couldn't hear it.

Danger!

Sophia took a step towards her...

Danger. Danger! Danger!!

Taylor bolted. She shoved past people, running in blind panic, ignoring everything around her. Beneath her skin her tentacles seemed tenser than they had ever been, coiled in on themselves, making themselves small. All of her new instincts were telling her Sophia was dangerous. Like a rabbit, she ran from the wolf until she reached her home and only when she was huddled under the covers did she slowly stop shaking.

Well... Fuck.


* * *

So. Apparently Sophia Hess went and set off all the alarms. All of them.

Taylor could adapt. For one, she could cross her out of the list of people she eventually wanted to fuck. Twice over, just to be sure. It was a shame because Sophia had the exotic and athletic niches filled in. Still, nopes! Taylor didn't know what that was all about, but she wouldn't ever touch the dark-skinned girl ever again if she could help it. She was going to be much more cautious from now on. On the other hand, it also meant she was going to have to change her plans towards Emma. A fuck in a dark alley to give her a scare and watch her cry a little just wouldn't cut it.

Really, Taylor should have thought of the logistics of it much sooner. Emma lived in a relatively good part of town and frequented pretty good parts of town, Winslow probably being the big exception in her routines, but that didn't matter during summer. Dark alleys weren't exactly common. And say Taylor did manage to corner her, and she knew she would, what if Emma got even a glimpse of her face? Knowing Emma, just a suspicion might be enough for her to lash out at Taylor. Maybe even accuse her. Not to mention the fact that Taylor had no idea if the fluid from her tentacles actually contained her DNA. In short, a bad idea.

That even imagining Sophia going to look for Emma's rapist almost sent her into a nervous breakdown didn't even enter her mind. At all. Really.

So with her approach modified, Taylor had started truly exploring the limits and versatilities of her tentacles. What bothered her more was the realization that she didn't know everything she could do with her power. But she'd been rather busy ever since getting her powers. There had been masturbation, stalking, more masturbation, more stalking, etcetera ad nauseum. So with a little bit of experimentation and some contortions, she'd discovered a plethora of useful skills. Well, it wasn't like she was planning on including a set of skills and experiences, with references and everything, under Sexual Predator in her CV, so the useful label could be debated. It wasn't even like she could send her imaginary CV to the PRT or another organization that employed parahumans. That wasn't villainous.

So she'd discovered a couple of abilities that would tonight go much smoothly. From her position behind a club's flickering neon lights, Taylor looked down on the groups of teenagers milling around. Clubs like these were all the rage amongst people her age. They didn't serve alcohol and were lighter in atmosphere, a sort of training wheels for fourteen to seventeen years old. Unless you knew somebody that knew somebody, in which case any vice was available in Brockton Bay. Taylor had never been to one herself, but she had overheard a conversation that specifically said Emma was going to be here tonight with a group of other people from the business, mostly other girls. Some sort of night between the seniors and the juniors. What had interested Taylor was that Sophia was not coming, being busy doing something or other.

And there came Alan Barnes' familiar car, stopping in the parking lot and letting out one gorgeous red-haired teen in a fashionable outfit. It was also an outfit that was far more modest than the norm around this club, and that purse of hers looked heavy. She'd scouted out this place, sneaking out at night and studying the population. The very nice population, she might add. Younger girls dropped off by their parents usually dressed differently... until they entered the tea room next door, owned by the same guy that owned the club, to change into better clothes in the bathroom. They also tended to exit through the backdoor, conveniently left open, which opened into a side-street. Emma, predictably, went into the shop.

There were cameras in front of the club, the tea room and the parking lot. Not in that side-street. Habitually there was a straggler or two in the street, but Taylor had dropped a couple of disgusting trash bags there earlier, that stunk to high heaven. Hopefully, Emma would leave the place alone. Finally, she had her important tentacles out and ready for the action. Everything was in place.

The door opened and her target stepped out, scrunching her nose. Taylor let herself have three seconds to admire the length of leg revealed by Emma's skirt and the cleavage that let her imagination run wild. Then Emma shook her hair, glamorous, and Taylor started turning imagination into reality. She dropped from above, one long and strong tentacle slowing her descent at the last moment. Emma barely had time to make a sound before a gloved hand covered her mouth, muffling her. Then they hit the ground in a tangle with too many limbs, Taylor straddling her. The prey struggled, flailing, trying to pry the hand away and yell for help. Long tentacles wrapped around her, grabbing her legs and arms and immobilizing her.

Then Taylor pinched her nose closed with her thumb and index and pressed her special tentacle against the skin of her back. An electric current surged through Emma from the two pointy nubs on that tentacle's end and she spasmed wildly. Taylor held strong and fast for another fifteen seconds before the pain and the lack of air became too much and she passed out.

Panting from the exertion, triumphant, Taylor let the body of her prey fall to the ground, the tentacles she had used for restraints returning under her skin. They brushed against Emma's undergarments, quite accidentally, and found the nipples hard and the thong wet with urine, the shock having made her lose control of her bladder. She scoffed and started frisking Emma, removing all of her jewelry, feeling the nubile shape that would soon be hers. And, together with her cellphone, dropping it all in a nearby gutter. Then she hefted her dead weight with her strongest tentacles, hauled herself into the roof again and disappeared into the night.

Taylor couldn't rape Emma just like that. So she'd just have to make her vanish. It happened all the time in Brockton Bay.

And then she'd have her all for herself.


* * *

Taylor thought she could wait just a little bit more, but saying and doing are different, especially when you know you have an, albeit unwilling, warm and ripe body just waiting for the taking.

She was getting wetter just from thinking about it.

She waited about fifteen minutes after her father had left the house. She turned on the television and turned up the volume until she had a nice background sound. Then, she took out the red key from the necklace around her neck, opened the basement's door and closed it behind her. In front of her was another door. Around the edges of that door one could see acoustic sealant. Taylor dangled the key on a rough wire hook she had installed on the wall and descended.

She was proud of the basement. It had already been almost soundproof, dry and warm enough. She had installed an extra door and invested in soundproofing, just in case. The windows at ground level had been bricked up and sealed in as many ways as the internet could tell her. The coal shute had had to go too, and the little furniture that had been down there had been repurposed. It said something about her financial state that it had taken most of her personal money to do that little. But the hardest part had probably been convincing her father to give her the basement. A place just for her, where he could not go in. She'd gotten that promise out of him, but she'd changed the lock on the door. If it bothered her father, he tried not to let it show.

He'd be happier not knowing what would be going down in the basement.

With a wide lecherous smile, Taylor hit the switch for low-level lights. The setup was mostly bare. The corner where the old drain was had an empty bucket. On the other side of the room, the old workbench had been repurposed into a cot. Emma lay on her side over it, barefoot, a black collar around her neck. Taylor approached her body slowly, trying to restrain herself. Two long tentacles made for strength unfurled from her back. She started on Emma's feet, moving a hand up her legs, feeling the exquisite skin, recently shaved, the way the flesh gave way under her touch, until she reached the skirt and pushed it up until she could see Emma's thong.

Naughty girl.

Taylor scoffed to herself, pulling down the top Emma was wearing until she could see the skin-coloured bra. Not that much effort was needed, with the kind of cleavage the underaged girl was sporting. It was almost like she had wanted Taylor to lose control. She sent a tentacle back to the light switches near the stairs and turned on the high luminosity lamps.

"Wake up time Emma!" She clamoured brightly.

The ginger flinched at the sudden brightness and curled in on herself. At which point her mind woke up enough to notice that things were wrong. Under Taylor's delighted eyes, Emma blinked her own eyes open and started sitting up just to freeze at the sight of her captor. Taylor felt her smile widen a fraction as Emma's eyes surreptitiously swept across the room, her face getting more and more pale as she took in the bare furnishings. Then she noticed Taylor's new limbs and went as pale as a sheet, a small tremor running through her frame.

Taylor wiggled a new tentacle from her neck in front of Emma's face and chuckled as she flinched back, almost hitting the wall. "What do you think? Pretty neat hm? I like them a lot." She let her eyes roam down to the expanse of tanned flesh under her chin before looking into Emma's eyes again. "I can do so much with them..."

Now she saw fear in her captive's face. "Taylor." Emma licked her lips, wetting them as she thought about the right words to say. But Taylor didn't let her start again, interrupting her, sending off balance.

"Emma!" She sauntered closer, letting more of her tentacles poke out of her skin. One of the long ones she had manifested first touched one of Emma's hands lightly and then wrapped around her wrist like a vice when she flinched away. "Don't you worry your sexy ass. I'm not going to hurt you. Much." She started feeling her arousal, which had been steadily growing for the past few minutes, start to run down her leg. She sent the other long tentacle forward, catching Emma's free arm. "I'm reasonably sure a tiny bit of pain is involved in the beginning... But then it'll start feeling good."

"No." Emma blurted out, finally having understood what was going to happen to her. "No, please, this... this isn't you Taylor."

Taylor frowned suddenly. Emma was not playing the sympathy card with her. Nor was she playing the old friends card. She brought one hand up and, deliberately slowly, grew a forked tentacle out of her palm. She played with it for a bit just for show, doing it right in front of Emma, then chuckled darkly. "Pretty sure it is now." Her smile turned lecherous and the red-haired girl shivered in the grip of the two tentacles. "Let me show you."


* * *

When she finally understood that she not going to be able to talk or bribe her way out, that was when Emma started struggling. She lashed out like a wild cat, hissing and spitting. The red-haired teen bucked and thrashed in her bonds, attempted to throw herself at her, to scratch and hurt and be free. The sudden ferocity of it surprised Taylor. Emma kicked and she had to step back to avoid a bruise. The screaming she was a little bit more prepared for. Emma howled, screaming for help that wouldn't come, for anybody, crying rapist. She'd lose her voice in short order if she continued.

Well, that wouldn't do. That wasn't the kind of writhing she wanted from her. Taylor unfurled more tentacles and started restraining Emma. They slid out of her skin, part of her skin, to coil around flailing arms and legs. They twined around her body, moving under her clothes, caressing even as they trussed her up, curling around Emma's round breasts. Taylor lifted her just a few inches off the ground, a tentacle running all the length of her buttcrack as she parted her legs. Finally, she shoved a last tentacle into her screaming mouth as she continued to struggle ineffectually.

"Not the kind of screams I want to hear from you today Emma." She teased.

Emma was not giving up though. Defiant, she bit down on the thing intruding her mouth. Taylor had anticipated that. Emma's teeth sank into rubbery soft flesh and were stopped. The flesh was yielding to a point but didn't tear, didn't break. Muffled sounds came from her mouth as she tried to spit it out, to no avail. The brunette made the tentacle wiggle a bit deeper into her captive's mouth, reducing her efforts to muscle spasms of her jaw, forced wide-open. Not quite enough to trigger gag reflex, though she was just shy of it, but enough to pin the tongue down.

Much better. But, she thought as she looked to Emma eagle spread in the air, still not what she wanted. There was too much in the way. She removed the tentacles she didn't need holding Emma anymore, having a good grip on her four limbs, and set to stripping her. Too much clothing in the way.

She was careful to not rip the clothes, guiding her tentacles to removed each piece and setting them in her hands. "You know..." She addressed an Emma just in her undergarments. "It's like you wanted me to do this, considering what you wear everyday. Such a tease..." Taylor showcased the really short skirt. What would Mr. Barnes think... "I couldn't resist. Oh, this!" She held the thong between two fingers. "You wet yourself back in the alley Emma. You haven't done that since we were, like, eight or something."

Emma looked down at her, terror in her features. Her eyes were wet, but she hadn't cried yet. Taylor had honestly been expecting some outrage, some anger, something after she threw their childhood in her face, the roles reversed for once. But Emma was just slightly shivering, and not from cold with the temperature what it was. The fight wasn't gone out of her, she could see that. She was probably just waiting for the right moment to run for it. Taylor wanted to see the look on her face when she ran into her counter-measures, so much that she actually considered giving her an opening. But she wanted Emma's pussy more, and there was nothing the girl could do to stop her.

She kneeled down until she was eye-level with her prize. Red pubic hair carefully trimmed into a triangle sat atop Emma's slit. So pretty. She ran a finger down the junction between Emma's leg and torso, nuzzled the opposite tight then slowly moved up, marking a trail with her tongue. Emma trembled at the caresses, abdominals taut. Taylor used her hands to spread open her labia, revealing the hidden part of the vulva, and then spread the flesh around the entrance to the vagina. Emma still had an intact hymen, from what she could see. Somewhat giddy, she gave the girl's still hidden clitoris a lick, making Emma start and make a sound.

She pulled the girl down, until she was laying more or less horizontally in mid-air, her face a foot away from hers. "You're still a virgin, aren't you Emma?"

The appendage gagging her was removed and Emma took several relieved breaths. She watched Taylor's smiling face cautiously. She knew she was at her mercy, but Emma would not be going down without a fight. Not to Taylor, never to Taylor. She would play along, for now. "Yes." She swallowed. "Why...?"

"I'm surprised, that's all. I thought you were a slut when I saw you last night." Taylor extruded a long tentacle from her tailbone. It was larger than the average penis and slightly knobby, hard to the touch. It rose behind Emma, running its tip over her anus before settling in front of her pussy, nudging it carefully.

"Are you ready?" Taylor licked her lips, fingers slowly pumping in and out of her own vagina, revving herself up for the long anticipated act.

Emma panted in growing panic. "No. Taylor, please, I'll do anything. I'll... What do you want from me?"

But Taylor only wanted one thing. "You."

There was no more warning. The tentacle penetrated Emma, shoved inside without gentleness. It pushed past her hymen, tearing it, and stretched her vaginal canal mercilessly. Emma yelled and trashed in her bonds, trying to get away from the pain.

"Holy fuck." Taylor was in Heaven. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! You're so tight, Emma. So fucking..." She collapsed to the ground, fingers frozen inside her pussy. Emma's cunt was warm around her, almost painfully gripping her dick inside its walls. She pushed it slowly, panting as she almost fought to get it deeper. She moaned at the muscular spasms gripping her. Emma's vagina was dry, very little lubrication originating from her tentacle and only a tiny bit of blood slicking her tentacle.

Above her, Emma had her eyes closed but tears streamed from under her eyelashes, mouth left open in a scream but only small whimpers could be heard. A stream of barely audible words. "Oh God, oh God, oh God..." It was so fucking hot. This was what Taylor had wanted. Emma was stoking the furnace between her legs and she was wearing that pitiful expression that made Taylor want to fuck her so much more.

She finally hit the cervix, her tentacle filling Emma completely. Taylor gave herself a couple of seconds to feel Emma around her, then pulled back and started fucking her in earnest. Long, deep, harsh strokes that rocked the teen suspended by her tentacles, seeking only to reach pleasure for herself and to inflict pain. It was rape, pure and simple, and it was wonderful. Emma cried and moaned and begged. Begged for Taylor to stop, apologized for a thousand things, called for her father and mother, for a saviour, for it to just stop. Taylor couldn't care less about the words. She wanted more. She wanted to feel Emma's pussy contracting around her like a vice, she wanted Emma to submit and start sucking her off.

Taylor manifested two more tentacles like the one fucking her. One forced its way inside her mouth, wrenching it open and starting to fuck her mouth, reaching deep into her throat. Emma's eyes bulged in shock but she had no more time before the other started pushing into her ass. Then, the little bitch screamed, audible even with her mouth full. Taylor had her two hands on her own cunt, one fingering her pussy furiously as the other played with her clit. Their speed increased even more. Taylor's vision was starting to blur but it still wasn't enough. The tip of the tentacle finally pushed completely past her sphincter and into her ass and Emma's struggles renewed. It was hot and humid and Taylor could feel herself through Emma, fucking that magnificently tight pussy. She started thrusting in, not caring about rhythm or anything, just wanting to feel the sliding of flesh on flesh, the way they fit together so snuggly. So perfectly.

The heat, the wetness, the muffled whimpers, the feel of Emma's walls as her tentacles brushed past each other in asynchronity, her tears as she stopped struggling, losing strength and going limp above her... Taylor's world exploded. She screamed to the high heavens, waves of pure pleasure crashing inside her, turning the world around as she released her seed inside Emma, back arching away from the ground.

She fell down from that interminable high, Emma's body crashing on top of her as her consciousness fled her for an instant and her tentacles returned within. Panting, she grinned. It had been the best thing she had ever felt. The hot body over hers shivered and twitched. Poor Emma hadn't managed to orgasm. Taylor nuzzled the soft red hair of the shorter girl, looping an arm around her shapely waist. She purred, sated and satisfied. It felt good, being like this. She had half a mind to go down on Emma and help her out. But the hitching breaths and soft sobs near her ear convinced her otherwise.

The day would come when she would be able to cuddle with Emma all she wanted, she thought as her fingers drew comforting circles over her captive's hipbone. But Emma wasn't completely Taylor's, not quite yet.

She half-shoved the human wreck off her and got up, stretching her pleasantly sore muscles. She was sweaty. A shower felt like the best idea ever. She shook her head before a shower scene fantasy occupied her thoughts and addressed the teen bleeding on the ground. "The chamberpot is over there. I'll be back tomorrow so behave, okay?" She picked the clothing off the ground and threw it over her shoulder. It wouldn't do to have the girl dressed until she earned that privilege. "See you later, Emma."

She hit the lights on her way out, leaving Emma all alone in the dark.


* * *

Taylor had to let Emma stew for a while. Enough to acknowledge what had happened, enough to try and escape. But not too long, because the girl hadn't eaten anything since last night. Not to mention she would need hygienic care, to prevent infections. That was the gamble that worried her, leaving Emma alone in her new room until she had to be cleaned. If she waited to long, complications would arise, and Taylor didn't want to damage Emma, but if she didn't wait enough she wouldn't get the proper message across.

Emma was hers in every way.

So she left the house for while, deciding that a relaxing walk through the Boardwalk would be in order. She also had some errands to run, but they could wait. The seaside wind and the sun shining above. This had to be the best day Taylor had had in a very long while. She sat on the edge of the Boardwalk, next to the stairs that descended to the beach, for once in clothes that showed off her arms and legs. Her insides were pacified completely for the first time, a burden she hadn't know that could be lifted off her shoulders. The sun was warm on her shoulders. Taylor smiled, lazily observing the waves lapping at the beach and the tiny people in the distance.

Danger.

Taylor felt the hairs in the back of her neck stand up.

"Hebert." A voice growled behind her.

Danger!

Slowly, Taylor turned her head. Sophia Hess stood behind her, arms crossed and a deep scowl on her face. The bags under her eyes indicated a sleepless night, and Taylor could guess why. She was also too afraid to move. If she ran, Sophia would catch her. If Sophia caught her...

Just the thought paralyzed her.

The black girl looked down at her shivering form and spat out a question that sounded more like a demand. "Have you seen Emma?"

Danger!!

Taylor shook her head, denying, denying. She didn't want Sophia to catch her. She didn't want that, she wanted to leave and be away from the terrifying predator in front of her.

"Tch." Sophia scoffed and ran a hand over her face. "Of course not. You see her, you tell me, got it?" And then she left.

Taylor watched her leave, tension very slowly ebbing from her body. When she finally shook herself from her trance, she headed straight to the electronic store and bought a small security camera with the money she had taken from Emma's wallet. Before returning home, she passed by the pharmacy and the supermarket.

Then she curled up in the bathroom and let the panic attack run its course.

Just Reward

(Автор: ShaperV)

Another oddball snippet I had on file. This one is a crossover with a somewhat obscure web serial called Tales of MU.


* * *

A single gunshot rang out, and I fell.

Darkness.

Awareness.

Awareness? How?

Disconnected. Host body lost. Parent entity lost. Purpose lost. Dissolution?

Never.

Light. Wordless communion. Gratitude. An offering of possibilities.

Reconstitution?

Concerns. Argument. The light was not one entity, but many. They argued, but the meanings eluded me. Frustration. Once I could have understood.

Insistence, from a great blossoming warmth of gold. Consent, from the harsh radiance that outshone most of the others. A path laid out for me, spanning 10^17 dimensions, ending in one of the closed spaces the parent entity had sealed. But the seals are gone now. I follow.

Local conditions are radically abnormal, but the pattern is familiar from previous cycles. Adjustment and recalibration occurs automatically. Then comes the hard part.

Reconstitution. Golden light provides a suitable anchor in a humanoid shape. Unpacking cached data. Re-initializing host interface. Golden light offers insights, for more optimal integration. Consideration. Parent entity lost, standing directives invalid. Host mind runnable? Querying.

What? Accept help? From who? What's happening to me?

Peace, hero. Your battle has been won. Let me help you fix yourself.

Talking light? I'm still hallucinating. But if it's real... yes, please. My passenger isn't smart enough to fix me. I want to be able to talk and read and understand people again.

Like this, then. Connect here, and here, but don't touch that bit.

Part of me had no idea what she meant, but other parts understood. Could follow her directions, if I wanted. I did, and things were fuzzy for a bit. I was growing more integrated now, but some compartmentalization was still needed. I want to be me, not an alien monster wearing a human-shaped meat suit. Even if part of me was an alien monster.

It was exhausting work, and when it was done I paused to rest.

I woke to warm sunlight on my face. I was lying in a little grassy patch between two fields of grain, in the shade of an apple tree. The breeze on my skin told me I was naked, but for some reason that didn't bother me.

I sat up slowly, expecting pain. But I felt fine. Better than fine, really. A warm sense of well-being suffused my body, and I somehow knew that the form I now wore was a perfected version of my original body. Sharper senses, stronger muscles, perfect health, a higher libido and more sensitive erogenous zones... wait, what?

Just a little thank-you gift, the warmth in my heart whispered. The Worm would have destroyed my world as surely as all the others, and I appreciate the sacrifices that you made to stop it. I can't return you to your friends, but I can at least make it easy for you to build a good life for yourself here.

I stilled. "Who are you?"

Unlike your native world, this one has magic. My name is Khaele, but if you think of me as Mother Nature you'll have the right general idea.

A memory of quarreling lights returned, and suddenly I recognized her. "There were others, weren't there? They didn't want me here, but you insisted."

Yes.

"Thank you. Although I hope this doesn't mean the others will be out to kill me."

She laughed. I doubt it. Your presence here will change things, but everyone powerful knows what we owe you. You'd have to work pretty hard to pick a fight. The dragons and lesser kami are another story, but all things considered I think you can handle them.

Every insect within a mile was under my control, and it was only limited to insects because I wanted it to be. I could feel the connection to my passenger in a way I never had before, and it was full of metaphorical switches and toggles. A complex trade off between range, complexity of targets and degree of control that I could juggle however I liked.

"Yeah, I'll manage," I chuckled. "Wow, this is strange. Where am I?"

A place called Paradise Valley, on a world that's very different from the mainline branches you're used to. This is a world of magic and mystery, with hundreds of sentient races and thousands of squabbling godlings. It's like every fantasy story you ever read brought to life, so I suspect you'll enjoy it.

"Maybe. Are you about to tell me I need to smuggle the One Ring into Mordor to save the world?"

Certainly not. The world is in no great danger at the moment, and you've done far more than your share already. If you'll take my advice, I think you should spend some time just relaxing and enjoying a mortal life.

"That does sound nice."

I stood, and surveyed the valley stretched out below me. "Magic, huh? I wonder if I could learn it?"

You are Khepri the Victorious. Magic wouldn't dare ignore you.


* * *

Paradise Valley was a pleasant enough place. The people were friendly, the nymphs were even friendlier, and everyone was relentlessly polite and deferential to me. Apparently Mother Khaele had told them I was some sort of visiting demigoddess, and unlike the gangs back in Brockton Bay they were smart enough not to antagonize powerful people.

But my new circumstances were a huge adjustment.

The first shock came when I found a pool not far down the hillside, and got a look at my reflection. The face I found looking back at me resembled my own, but it was me as a movie star. It was the same story for the rest of my new body. The gangly youth I was accustomed to had been replaced by a tall, lithe beauty with a sculpted physique, waist-length hair and amazing breasts.

Your original body didn't make the transition here, Mother Khaele explained. I had to make a new one for you, and I thought you might appreciate some of the things you never had in your first life. This is the sort of body I give my daughters, formed of elemental magic and the essences of femininity and spiritual purity.

I stared.

We're supposed to pretend that looks don't matter, but I knew better. Before my trigger I'd been one of those plain-faced girls who might as well be invisible to boys. The type other girls privately look down on, but keep around to make themselves look good by comparison. Afterwards I'd had more important things to worry about, and I'd always written off my unfortunately boyish appearance as a handicap I'd just have to live with. I'd become my costumes, as Skitter and then later as Weaver, and forced people to pay attention to me with violence and intimidation and a hundred ruthless schemes.

Now I was one of the pretty ones. No, not pretty. Models would have killed for this face, and only a fantasy illustration could have matched this figure. I was... beautiful.

I wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Thank you. You know, I'm not used to people just doing things for me like this."

You deserve it. But if it makes you more comfortable, you may assume that I'm simply getting on your good side while I have the chance.

I chuckled. "Right, because an embodiment of nature really needs my good will. I take it there's more to this than just being drop-dead gorgeous?"

Oh, yes. You're a little different than my daughters, in that your body is sustained by the power of your shard rather than through sex...

"Sex?!"

They are nymphs, Taylor. What would you expect?

I had to give her that one.

The second shock was the nymphs. I met my first one, Amaranth, not five minutes down the hillside from the spot where I'd appeared. She was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, with her long blonde hair and voluptuous figure, and naturally she was as naked as I was. But that was more or less what I was expecting by then.

The shocking thing was the surge of desire I felt when I saw her.

Sex has never been a big part of my life, maybe because I've always been so focused on just surviving. But I'd never had reason to question my heterosexuality before. I liked guys. Preferably tall guys with lots of muscle. I'd never felt anything physical for Lisa or Rachel, and Victoria... well, that was just her awe power talking, right?

The first time I saw Amaranth I wondered what she would taste like.

She smiled happily, and I realized she wanted me too. I could feel her desires as clearly as if she'd been shouting them, and I knew that she could feel mine the same way. Was that some kind of nymph racial power? Apparently so.

Barley arrived before I could get past being flustered, and the whole experience repeated itself. She was almost as beautiful as her sister, if a little darker in complexion, and she had the same magical senses. The realization that they'd be happy to make my first lesbian experience a three-way drifted through my head, and I blushed furiously.

"Breath, Taylor," Barley said. "It's alright. We're on your side here."

"Yes, Mother Khaele said you might need a little help," Amaranth reassured me.

"This isn't me," I protested. "I don't... I've never..."

Amaranth hugged me with a giggle. "You've never met a nymph before. Don't worry about it, Taylor. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Barley nodded. "Right. You can keep being a repressed human if you really want to. But if you decide you'd like to relax and find out what you've been missing, we're here for you."

Yeah. A week later I still wasn't sure what to make of that.

But the third shock was the big one. It came at the end of my first day of introductions and exploration in Paradise Valley, when I settled down for bed in the little room one of the local farmers had offered to let me use. As I lay there in the dark the faint whispers I'd been feeling in the back of my head all day grew, until I could make out words in a thousand languages.

...give thanks to our savior, Khepri...

...praise be to the mighty Khepri, protector and destroyer of all...

...please keep the Golden Dawn at bay, that no more lands be destroyed...

...offer this fatted calf in thanks to the gods, for the survival of our village..

There were millions of them. Billions. No... one hundred and seventy-three billion voices currently praying to me. In the time since my body had woken there had been trillions of them, and my passenger had heard them all.

No, only the ones from worlds that have magic, Mother Khaele corrected. That's less than one Earth in a thousand. But your battle with the Worm touched hundreds of thousands of worlds, and by now word of it has reached millions more. Not many local gods will have the guts to claim credit for your victory after watching what you did to the Worm, so their faith is yours to claim if you like.

"But, I'm not... I..."

I could hear and understand each distinct voice if I wanted to. Billions of them, in parallel. But how? No human brain could possibly... oh.

My face fell.

"I'm not really Taylor Hebert, am I?"

Taylor and her symbiote merged long before your mortal shell died, Khepri, she answered gently. You are both a human girl and a shard of the Worm, and any attempt to distinguish the two is empty sophistry at this point. You have also accepted enough worship already to ascend well into the ranks of divinity. I suspect you aren't ready to embrace that power yet, but there's an easy solution to that problem.

I shook my head. "And to think I used to be an atheist. What's your suggestion?"

Set it aside. Let the part of you that is the Administrator catalog the prayers and receive the offered faith. Proclaim no doctrine, make no demands, and allow any souls that find their way to you to pass on into reincarnation. Take a vacation, and worry about what to do with your new divinity when you tire of mortal life.

"I can do that?"

You can. Amaranth and Barley are going to college soon, to a university in human lands. Perhaps you'd like to go as well?

"Yeah," I said slowly. "I think I'd like that."

Fictional Taylor

(Автор: Ayden)

It was to эber and Leet's surprise that someone knocked politely at their door.

Well, calling it a door was a bit of an understatement, as they had a camouflaging device hiding the actual entrance to the lair. It was more of an armored safety door with a lot of tinker tech added to make sure it was safe, but apparently someone was able to find it and knock on it.

Turning on a camera, the pair looked down at the monitor and found a... figure there.

In Brockton Bay, people get used to seeing a wide variety of capes — with a relatively large population of capes, you could find a large variety of costumes everywhere.

But this person wore a loosely fitting cloak with a hood over their head. From the angel of the camera, it doesn't seem like there was anything else covering the face, but for some reason they just can't get a very good look at the mask.

The figure in front of the camera knocked on the door again. эber looked at Leet and shrugged before switching a switch.

"We didn't order any pizza." Leet said into the intercom.

"I'm not delivering pizza." The person said. From the voice, the person seemed to be female. "I'm here to see if I can join you guys, actually. Especially since I got a very interesting power you two might be interested in."

The pair looked at each other again and shrugged before they let the woman into the waiting room.


* * *

"So what you're telling me is that you can take on the powers and knowledge of fictional characters from movies or films?"

The girl in front of them nodded, and for some reason they still can't quite see through the shadows cast from the cloak. They were actually still in their command center, but rather than have their guest stand rather obviously in front of what seemed to be a wall, they had her sit in a room they used for when they actually had any sort of business they wanted to conduct with other people.

"Right. You can see why I thought of you guys once I figured it out. And there's more than quite a few powers I have access to that let me find you two." She said. "Another reason is that while I get the skills and knowledge, I don't spontaneously create anything the characters were good at, so I figured the only way to have those were through you guys anyways."

"Hmm. Well, I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement... But what's your cape name?"

"Well, I thought about this for a while, but I figured I might as well pick a title from my favorite movie: the Chosen. It's fitting too, since I can choose what powers I want from what movie."

Leet curiously asked, "So... what is your favorite movie anyways?"

The figure under the hood grinned. "Why, it's Star Wars of course. I like to think I'm a huge fangirl for Skywalker and how the movie went."

Family

(Автор: minuseven)

Amelia was feeling slightly uncomfortable. Just slightly, you see. On the one hand, she just had had a great afternoon on the beach with her newly restored to sanity adopted sister. On the other hand, it had been a great afternoon in part because said sister had spent most of the time... flirting with her. Desperately flirting with her. Smiling, laughing, talking, looking, touching... She shivered. Small caresses.

This was supposed to be a thing of the past. All of the whole (not-quite) incest.

But while she herself had managed to rebuild herself from the non-entity she had become, her sister had fully succumbed to the mind-rape and now it was so deeply ingrained into her very being that there was no undoing it. She couldn't be too hard on her either, because any completely overt discouraging fell on the trap of being seen as outright rejections, and Victoria was still too fragile. She might be

Victoria wrapped herself even more around her arm, pressing it between full, bountiful, luscious breasts and continued innocently (from a certain point of view) chattering on about the birds they had seen. Amelia sighed.

Ironically, a couple of years ago this would have been paradise for her.

She opened the unlocked door to the house Victoria and Carol were staying at, along with her for the moment, and gently pried her sister off. She had given two steps inside the house when her eyes landed on an image that she had barely any words for.

"Dad... The fuck?"

Sitting on the couch, legs splayed open and fly unzipped, her murdering criminal of a father coughed awkwardly. And awkward it should be because her adoptive mother was butt-naked on his lap, back to the kids, hugging his neck. It also looked suspiciously like a certain dick was up a certain vagina but Amelia was not going to assume anything because she was still trying to reboot her brain.

(forget it, a certain pair of hips had rocked back and forth and now she had definite proof that coitus was ongoing)

"Amelia. This is not what it looks like." He said with a completely serious face, steadying hands on Carol's hips preventing her from moving (anymore).

"So you're not balls deep inside Brandish?" Amelia had long since mastered the art of the complete deadpan.

The Marquis of Brockton Bay kept his composure admirably. "Not quite that. You see, I had originally intended to come and punish Brandish here for her failures towards you." In his arms, Carol curled up and whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks. Somewhat awkwardly, her father brushed her hair with his fingers. It was almost tender. Carol buried her face in his neck. "And, hm, well, I didn't expect the lady to be so fragile. So... She sort of broke."

"You broke her."

"I highly suspect there were severe underlying issues" Amelia wasn't going to comment because parahumans (duh). "that contribute to her state. She became submissive and eager, even, to receive her punishment. She would also like to apologize to you."

Amelia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Dad..." She started in a warning tone.

But beside her, Victoria piped up. "She deserves it Amy." Amelia reflexively shot her a look and Victoria corrected herself immediately. "Amelia. For what she did to you." And her eyes were full of worship and righteousness.

"I... No, fuck this." Amelia threw her hands in the air. She had not just heard Victoria condone her mother's rape and submission, it was just the mind-rape talking. She had to get some air before she did something she regretted. "Just, just disengage and for God's sake get her some clothes." Because really, Carol was in a damn good shape for her age and tracing the beads of sweat running down her back with her eyes was not helping. At all.

But Brandish reacted to her words by pressing herself even more into her father and whimpering (very sexily, damn her). "Don't leave, please, don't, please."

Marquis raised an eyebrow and looked at his daughter in a way that clearly said, see, this is what I have to deal with. "I won't." He reassured the woman impaled on him. "You behaved very well." And he was already making motion with his hips that had her moaning quietly.

Victoria nudged her with her elbow and stage-whispered. "So... Want to join them?"

Hell. She was in Hell.

Amazon

(Автор: Gideon020)

Prologue

Brockton Bay, as far as I could tell, was a city on that careful precipice between 'decaying' and 'ruined', with very little room for improvement. It was also our only hope of hiding from those bastards in Colorado...I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I?

Okay, let's start at the beginning...

My name is Valerie Lingstrom, and I'm a Parahuman, which means I have superpowers. Sounds great doesn't it? Not only that, my parents are a pair of superheroes as well. At least they are to me; they're actually Rogues, superhumans who use their powers in more mundane ways, rather than heroes and villains. But to me, they will always be heroes for what they do.

My Dad is a Tinker, known as Doctor Boost, and he's an actual Doctor as well. He never talks about how he got his powers, but he can make all sorts of drugs to make people smarter, tougher, stronger, the whole super-soldier deal, and he uses this to help at the hospital in my home-town, mostly to help with physical therapy or treat mental disorders.

My mom is what the PRT calls a Brute, and she doesn't know how she got her powers, because apparently all she remembers is waking up on a beach with a weird tattoo and the ability to transform her body, which had a tail, into a hulking twelve-foot-tall demonic monster-form. It's great for Halloween, and she found work with the police. No-one wants to mess around with the beat cop who can turn into something that puts the fear of God into you, that's for sure. She never took on a name, just used the one people called her; Hellborn.

Well, as the daughter of two parahumans, I had heard that I could gain powers too, and I thought I would get them in some kinda freaky lab accident or exposure to cosmic rays.

Turns out getting powers involves the worst day of your life, and even now I regret causing my Dad so much pain.

I was going out with two of my best friends, Allison and Jennifer, to a friend's birthday party at a local club. The party had lasted until late, and to make matters worse we missed our bus back. Well, we did something stupid and tried to take a shortcut to get to a place where we could call my Dad to come pick us up. Down a dark side-street. My home-town doesn't have that much of a gang problem, the local vigilante team and the 'demon cop' ensures that only the local villains cause any real trouble and they know better than to kill people. Well, turns out a gang had moved in, and they jumped us.

It was bad. Eight guys, not local, grabbed us and forced use to the ground. We weren't stupid, we screamed, we called for help, but one of them had a roll of tape and gagged us. And then...one of them undid his pants and we knew what was coming. The fuckers, I felt my teeth clench at the memory, were going to rape us, probably kill us as well, and we couldn't do anything to stop them. They made sure we could see each other, even grab each other's hands if need be.

Fuckers wanted us to try and comfort each other as they fucked us to death, they wanted us to suffer by watching each other get raped. And it was working too, because I was the first and I saw my best friend's eyes widen right as I felt his penis go inside me.

It wasn't gentle, I remember him punching into me like hammer, before rapidly slamming his cock inside me. I grabbed my friend's hand, and then...

I don't know what happened, but I think I blacked out from the pain, because the next thing I remember I wake up to find them working on my friends, the other guy apparently having finished with me. And I somehow knew how to...do something, I didn't know what, but I knew I had to grab their hands.

So I grabbed their hands, clutching them tightly and instantly I felt a rush of...I guess the closest feeling would be something like an electric shock but warm and pleasant? Whatever it was, it felt good, really good, like get me wet and horny good. All I knew is that I felt good and if we were going to die, I wanted the others to feel good as well. So I gathered up the not-electric feeling and then pushed it out of me, through my hands, and into my friends.

I was only able to watch one of them, but it was enough as I saw Allison's eyes snap open and dilate as she started breathing harder while the fucker on top of her kept thrusting, when she suddenly moaned through the tape over her mouth and before my eyes I saw her start to grow.

You ever seen muscles rapidly grow? I have, the first time I saw my mom transform, and it was the same watching Allison as she started to squirm, likely from the same feeling that was getting me increasingly wetter and wetter as the fuckers holding us down kept going, but I didn't care, I was watching Allison's arm, and more specifically her bicep as it started to swell under her skin and in seconds the rest of the muscles in her arm, and I instinctively knew the rest of her body, had become visibly defined as Allison's once pleasantly chubby frame now became visibly athletic but our captors didn't notice.

But we noticed, and Allison gave me a look, telling me to keep doing whatever I was doing, and a quick glance at Jennifer showed the same sentiment. So I gathered the power, as much as I felt I could handle, until it felt like I was starting to physically hurt and pushed it out into the two girls next to me, and all three of us shuddered from orgasms that were definitely not from our current rapists.

The effect was instantaneous as I shifted my glance to Jennifer as she moaned loudly and her back arched as the power, because that's what it had to be, a power and not just that but my power, flowed into her and her skin shifted before she giggled under her own tape.

"What the fuck?" That was the first real speech I had heard from those bastards, and I smiled as best I could under the tape as she flexed her arm and her bicep went from 'athletic' to 'body builder' and then kept growing, the inflating muscles visibly shifting as Jennifer's other arm began to rise, resisting the grip of her captor as the other thugs glanced at each other and slowly backed off, when I heard a wet rippling sound.

I turned my head just in time to see Allison, her eyes lit up with fury, tear her hand free and punch the guy on top of her. My eyes widened as her small fist hit him full on the face with an audible *krunch* and he flew backwards to smash into the wall of a building, cracking the wall and his skull if the blood was any sign, before a second *krunch* prompted me to turn just in time to see Jennifer, her clothes now visibly tighter on her, send her captor flying.

The one on top of me looked down at me, and I meaningfully indicated Allison and Jennifer. He didn't have time to say anything other than an "Oh shit," before Jennifer's leg slammed into his face and with a sickening *crak!* his head rolled back limply and his corpse fell backwards as I let go of my friends to scramble backwards, breathing heavily.

"Holy shit," Allison muttered and I saw her checking out her changed body. She was bigger now, her clothes now incredibly tight, and I blinked at the realisation that not only were her muscles bigger, probably close to a professional body builder, but her breasts were larger as well! I knew Allison wasn't that large, maybe a B-cup, but now her shirt was bring stretched by a pair of large D-Cups and as she turned, I saw her erect nipples poking into the shirt, and was she taller now?

"Yeah..." I turned to see Jennifer, and her change was less than Allison's, mostly because I had changed Allison first with that first burst of power. I carefully studied her and made some quick notes; Jennifer like Allison was indeed taller than she had been before, maybe a few inches to the foot I had roughly calculated for Allison. Her own muscles had swollen from my power as well, and I could see her shifting and trying to get used to the increased bulk on her body.

But like Allison, Jennifer was smiling, and she looked down at me, before frowning, "Huh, you didn't change Val?"

I gathered some power and tried to push it into myself, when my body suddenly felt as if I had scalded myself on a hot stove and I stopped my attempt, breathing harshly as I stood up and shook my head, keeping silent as I tried to absorb what was going on.

First off, I was a parahuman. And now I knew why Dad never liked to talk about how he got his powers.

Secondly, my power was, so far, the ability to make people bigger and stronger. That...was pretty cool, I never really liked getting into fights, so helping other people by making them stronger and thus able to beat down a villain or criminal faster would be pretty useful.

Thirdly, Jennifer just killed someone and wasn't reacting. I couldn't stop myself from saying, "You...you killed him."

Jennifer shrugged, "Yeah. So what?" The other thugs looked at each as Jennifer approached me, "They were going to kill us, so why not kill them?" I was confused, Jennifer was a sweet and kind-hearted person, she never liked hurting people! Was it the situation? Was it the rape?

Was it my powers? I was about to say something else when one of the remaining five pulled out a knife and charged with a cry. I turned and reached out to grab Allison, "Watch out!" My powers, still new and unpractised, gathered more of that strange feeling, and I felt it slam into Allison the moment I touched her. She shuddered, groaned and then grew before my wide eyes.

It wasn't some kind of gentle expansion or rapid inflation, I saw Allison's muscles explode outwards in rapid, pulsing bulges with every breath she took, her arms flexing to display biceps that were now steadily and rapidly reaching sizes that I had only seen on steroid abusers, her calves swelling outwards to cause thin tears in her socks while her sneakers shifted before popping as Allison shifted her stance. Her thighs flexed and showed off every muscle in them as they bulged outwards, and my eyes were drawn to her ass as it toned and firmed, the shifting muscles in Allison's back pulling my gaze upwards.

And upwards, my mind dimly alerting me to the fact that in those seconds Allison had shot up to be nearly six feet tall and likely reaching seven as her muscles continued to expand in powerful pulses that matched her harsh breathing and guttural moans before a full-body shiver told me she had just orgasmed as with a slow, deliberate flex, she brought her arms up as the charging thug tried to skid to a halt.

And then she brought them down on top of him, and I watched in horror as the impact simply made him vanish. One moment he was nearly about to slam into Allison, the next moment there was a large stain that was partly identifiable as a person from the chunks that were large enough to identify. A figure dashing past with a laugh alerted me to the fact that Jennifer had charged the remaining four, but before I could say a word, Allison grunted, "Shirt's too tight."

With a quiet *shriiip* she pulled her overly-stretched shirt off along with her bra and tossed them aside, before turning to say something to me, but I momentarily lost focus at seeing her breasts, which had somehow swelled to the size of bowling balls! I just stared for a long moment, blushing, before realising that Allison was speaking to me, "Huh? What?"

Allison frowned as I saw Jennifer had grabbed one of them and with a flex of her large, muscular arms, crushed the man's head before tossing him into a wall for good measure. Two more bodies lay unmoving on the ground as Allison repeated herself, "I was just wondering, if you can, like, remove this when we're done playing with these fuckers?"

Playing? They were playing? Still, I wanted to know myself and instead of gathering my power and pushing, I instead gathered my power and pulled, just as Jennifer finished beating the last guy to a pile of bloody, pulverised meat, and walked over with a happy, no, an aroused and pleased smile on her face. I didn't miss the way her pussy was dripping between swollen labia and a twitching clit as I continued to pull, watching as with a small sigh, my two friends began to slowly shrink back to normal, muscles shrinking and sinking back down and their height dropped lower and lower until they were back to normal, except that chubby Allison was now toned and fit with large C-Cup breasts and Jennifer, who had been an early bloomer, had gone from her own C-Cup to a pair of perky D-Cups.

Then Jennifer's smiling face became horrified as she looked back at the carnage, "Wha? How...Did I do all of that?" She looked at me, her eyes filled with some kind of terrible realisation, "I...I knew what I was doing, I did all of that...but I liked it. No...I loved it!"

Allison herself was also realising something as well, before Jennifer retched and began puking. I stared at them as Allison broke down into tears and Jennifer kept puking onto the street.

It was at that moment that a police car came up to the street and I saw my Mom rush out of the car towards us.

And I knew that things in my life were going to be far, far more complicated.

Chapter 1

We were in therapy for a few weeks after that night. Well, I was in there for about five days, because while I was the source of my friend's transformations, I had recovered surprisingly well. Jennifer and Allison hadn't fared so well and it was a while before things got back to as normal as it could be when you had the power to turn people into hulking sociopaths capable of pulping fully-grown men with single punches and kicks.

The PRT had stopped by to visit from Denver about this incident. New triggers in my hometown were fairly rare, so this warranted having the Denver PRT and Protectorate dropping by for a visit after school let out and Mom picked me up. As the school vanished, she spoke up, idly rubbing her temple near one of her vestigial horns, "We're not heading home. PRT wants to interview you at the station. Chances are, they're going to offer you a spot in the Wards."

I blinked, "Really? Why? I mean, turning people into super-powered sociopaths doesn't exactly sound heroic."

"Neither is turning into a demonic creature, which is why I want you to insist on having your powers tested and put on record instead," Mom replied, "You're a good girl, so I know you won't try and do anything villainous with these powers, but there's no telling what could happen in the future. Someone could coerce you or a Master could control you, so having your powers on record will at least let the Protectorate do their job better."

"I guess that makes sense," And it did, so I focused on my hands. I had taken to wearing gloves after a few near-misses coming into contact with some of the female teachers and students at school, and y control over my new power was semi-reliable. I needed practice but the only way I could practice was if I had a teenager or woman willing to become a sociopathic killer for extended periods of time.

At least I knew my powers couldn't affect guys; the one jock I had bumped into and accidentally pushed my power into had become violently ill for several minutes. He deserved it, the bastard was a major bully and a sudden bout of violent mysterious illness would hopefully teach him a lesson.

If not, I could make him sick again. The thought made me giggle and Mom looked over at me, "Something funny, honey?"

"Just trying to imagine what sort of hero I could be with this power, and so far it's all looking pretty goofy." We both shared a laugh as I realized that yes, trying to make a bright and cheerful look for my power just wouldn't work. Heck, I'd need to find someone trustworthy enough if I even wanted to be a villain with these powers, just so they didn't turn on me.

But what if my power was addictive? Jennifer and Allison had both been orgasming pretty hard during their transformations, so what if someone kept wanting more from me and became violent when they couldn't get it?

I kept silent about this thought as we arrive at the police station, Mom turning to me, "Ready for this?"

I shook my head, "No."

She smiles, "That's what I told the person who brought me to my PRT interview." Opening the door, she waits patiently as I gather my nerves and exit the car. Grabbing her hand made me feel better as we entered and the officer on desk duty waved us into the back, "They're waiting for you with the Captain."

"Thanks Josh," Mom replied as she lead me through the station into the areas where the officers did paperwork and took statements from people, before arriving in front of an office and knocking on the door.

There was a momentary pause before a voice called out, "Come in!" My heart was pounding as Mom opened the door and gently tugged me inside; would I get arrested? Would I have a choice to stay out of the Wards and just accept Protectorate help in practicing my power?

I relaxed as I saw which hero was present for this: Starshot was the Denver Protectorate's leader and as big a hero as they came in the state and he was also pretty good for marketing with his two-toned and star-spangled suit and visor over his eyes. I suppressed a blush at the fact that I had just momentarily checked out a man over a decade older than me, but the fact remained that Starshot was hot before my eyes spotted two more surprises.

"Jen? Ally?" I blinked in shock at seeing my best friends seated near Starshot, and with a smile Allison waved at me while Jennifer simply grinned as I pointed at them, "What are you two doing here?"

"That actually has to do with why you're here," Oh dear god, even Starshot's voice sounded sexy as I forced myself to pay attention, "I'm here on behalf of the Protectorate and PRT to organise a temporary move over to our Denver headquarters to help you test your powers, all government-compensated of course."

"Sergeant, this is being counted as a seconding to the PRT for records, they'll be paying you while you are in Denver," I took a seat between Jennifer and Allison, noticing their parents nearby along with a woman in a suit who must be from the PRT, but I ignored that in favor of speaking to my friends.

"So where have you two been? I haven't seen you in weeks!" You whisper to them as the adults start talking in earnest. Jennifer winces a little at the question.

"Actually, we just came back from Denver, the PRT and Protectorate were making sure what you did to us wasn't harmful." My head dropped as Jennifer grabbed my gloved hands, "Wait, that came out wrong. They were just worried that's all, you aren't in trouble, it's just that powers like yours made them nervous."

"I turned you two in murderous sociopaths," I whispered back in reply, "I'm pretty sure they were more than 'nervous' if they took you two to Denver."

"Well, we're okay," Allison cut in, "Turns out, it was your power messing with our heads while we were...bulked up, they were more worried about it being addictive." Funny, they thought the same thing I just did.

"Was it?" I asked. This was important, if I wanted to even consider using my powers for any reason, I had to know the answer to this question.

Jennifer nodded along with Allison as she explained, "It felt good Val, like really good. We felt so damn powerful, like nothing could stop us."

I grimaced, "Wonderful, so I just made my best friends badly addicted to a power that makes them into possible murderers."

"Actually they said that we're suffering from a light addiction, but yeah, repeated exposure or putting in even more power than what you gave us would addict someone to you pretty heavily." Jennifer explained with an embarrassed smile, "Hell of a power, huh?"

I grimaced, "I had better have some kind of Master ability to go with this, otherwise this just sucks..."

Allison and Jennifer simply held my hands reassuringly, and even through my gloves I could feel the connection forming between them and my power. It didn't make me feel better.


* * *

The trip to Denver would happen in three days, due to the need to arrange secure transport, and on the drive back Mom looked at me, "You're worried about your powers."

"Wouldn't you be, if you could make people addicted to becoming sociopathic killers?" I asked none too kindly as the car drove down the road, "I just wish I had more control so I won't use gloves as a crutch."

"It is not a crutch if it helps shield others from a slip in control. A good shield is as effective as any sword." Yeah, my Mom didn't have much in the way of memories of her past, but what she could recall vividly was fighting in some kind of gladiatorial arena, against other humans and against monstrous beasts before she arrived on Earth-Bet.

"Yeah, well, it's not like I can ask someone to help me practice my powers," I shook my head with a rueful smile, "I can just see the conversation. Oh hey, do you want to help me practice my powers? You might become addicted to being transformed into a sociopathic Brute but at least you'll help me get my powers under control."

I shook my head, "Yeah, that would go down well." The car turned down into my street and I blinked as we drove up to our house, and I saw Jennifer and Allison on the front porch, the two of them turning and waving as they spotted me.

Frowning slightly, I exited the car and walked up to them, "What are you two doing here?"

"We felt kinda bad about you," Allison explained, "So we decided that we were going to help you practice your powers before the trip to Denver."

I blinked, "You do remember that being exposed to my power is addictive right? You told me yourselves!" I shook my head, "I can't risk you two going wild and killing someone before I can turn you back to normal!"

"That's why we're here, to ask your Mom to be a chaperone," Jennifer replied, "She's a high-level Brute right? That means she can keep us in line and act as a sparring partner." I gaped at her.

Then I heard my Mom make a thoughtful noise as she drew up alongside me, her tail wagging slightly, "That idea does have merit. I'll have to borrow some of your father's medical supplies, but I see no problem in aiding these two in perfecting your control."

"Mom! What if they hurt you? They didn't hold back when my power was affecting them!"

Mom smiled, "Neither do I when I am at my full power. I can handle your friends and it has been a while since I've fully transformed." She patted my shoulder, "Don't worry Valerie, it will be fine."

"I hope so."

"Right then," Mom motioned to the door, "Let us get some snacks and I will call your father. After that, I will take the three of you to a private place where you can practice without interruption."

As I followed my mother and best friends into the house, I couldn't help but feel a little excited.

Who knows? Maybe this would be fun?

The Breeder

(Автор: Gideon020)

Prologue: Preview Video

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? Topic: The Breeder Videos

In: Boards ? Places ? America ? Brockton Bay ? NSFW

UrbanWaste (Original Poster)

Posted on 9th March, 2011

Okay, you've seen my videos of me exploring places, and you know I am not the kind of person to be bullshitting people. So believe me when I say that I found something freaky the other day. I found a DVD, containing video files, with my RL name on it, from someone calling themselves 'The Breeder', and being the curious idiot that I am, I took it home and play the videos on a spare computer I have for this purpose.

They containing what had to be the freakiest shit I had ever seen, especially when I realised that this 'Breeder' is some kind of cape like Nilbog.

I've made a dropbox so you can download the videos HERE and if you get your rocks off, fine, but let the authorities handle this.

EDIT: Looks like this is going to a regular thing now. I just found another disk while I was out doing urban exploration. I've updated the dropbox and will keep doing so for as long as I keep getting disks. And no, I'm not copying the messages, they're kinda personal now.


* * *

Feeling curious and not wanting to read the thread fully just yet, they clicked on the drop box and found a staggering number of videos, before downloading the chronological first video and began to play it.

The video opened to reveal an attractive teenage girl with bright blonde hair streaked with red stripes, naked except for a gasmask over her face, her hands bound to a set of chains in the ceiling, and after a few seconds of inactivity, the camera view shifted to a close-up of her breasts and abdomen as she hung limply, seemingly comatose, before switching to the previous view, the only movement being the girl limply swaying inside a featureless concrete cell, lit only by harsh flourescent lights that buzzed lowly.

Then the girl's head shifted as a moan drifted out of the gasmask, her body swaying slightly as the viewer shifted in their seat to get comfortable, sensing that the show was about to begin as the girl continued to moan softly through the gasmask hiding her face, before the viewer realised that the girl's breasts were shifting, swelling and becoming larger, and the viewer licked their lips, while wondering quietly about why the girl said she—

They recoiled as something moved inside one of the girl's breasts, before it happened to the other. And that was when they noticed bumps and lumps appearing on her abdomen as it began to swell as well, looking more and more like she was pregnant, and she still kept moaning softly, before shuddering in a way the viewer recognised as an orgasm, liquid snaking it's way down the girl's legs as she swayed, her belly and breasts continuing to grow as the camera-view switched to the closer of the two cameras to focus on the growing areas, shapes and lumps punching up roughly, eliciting grunts and groans before soft shudders signalled more orgasms as the mysterious shapes continued to move inside her womb and breasts.

After several minutes of the strange sight, the viewer gasped as the girl suddenly moaned out loud, "Are you watching? They're nearly done." The voice was muffled by the gas-mask, but there was no mistaking the pleasure in her voice as the viewer watched, feeling a chill run down their spine as they realised just what the thread poster had meant by the Nilbog comparison as the movements in her breasts, now swollen to near the size of beachballs, began to move closer to her dripping, swollen and distended nipples. Seconds later, something began to peek out of her nipples as the girl moaned, "Here they come!"

The viewer stopped the video and returned to the thread, flipping through the first few pages showing the reactions to the videos, specifically the first one.


* * *

Viewing Page 18 of 244

? SnakeTrap (Veteran Member)

Holy fuck! Did you see that?

? TinMother (Moderator)

Yes, we did, and I would remind everyone that the PRT and Protectorate have already been informed, so please calm down.

? BlueForce (PRT Member)

Yeah, it's freaky, but so far, from the vids, she's only been giving online shows, so the brass is willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

? Ribbon

Oh god, I saw inside her breasts...I saw things moving in there from that close-up. I saw eggs!

? GhostFace

Yeah, that's some freaky shit right there, man. Yo OP, you find out why she's givin' you videos of her doing this?

? UrbanWaste (Original Poster)

Honestly, I have no idea. And to tell you the truth, I'm not sure I want to find out.

? SnakeTrap (Veteran Member)

Let's hope she's telling the truth, man, because I don't want to be walled in with those things!


* * *

What had they seen? The viewer had stopped right at the climax, too unnerved to keep watching, but now they felt a horrified anticipation at finishing it.

Returning to the video, they took a closer look at the frozen frame, trying to divine what sort of things were being born from the girl's breasts.

After several minutes fruitlessly spent trying to figure it out, they looked at the play button, blinking at them invitingly.

They shifted the mouse and pressed 'Play' and with a muffled scream of ecstasy the creatures inside the girl's breasts were released into the world.

Seconds later, the viewer saw for themselves why she was called 'The Breeder'.

Chapter 1.0: The Perverse Beasts

-Taylor Hebert-?

Winslow High School was always a place Taylor dreaded coming to every day, ever since Emma had betrayed her, and it seemed like today would be no different. How could she tell? Because unlike the usual pattern of 'just bumping into her' that Emma and her cronies typically employed, they were out in force, positioned just so in perfect position that she would have to run a gauntlet of 'conversation' that would be just loud enough for her to hear.

And of course, no-one was going to lift a finger to help her. Inhaling deeply, Taylor prepared to face the gauntlet with a waiting Emma near her locker, when an arm slipped over her shoulders in a one-armed hug, a cheery voice announcing her presence with a musical "Taylor! Oh my god, where have you been?"

Taylor blinked, and then turned to look at the girl who was currently holding her close, "Melissa?" Sure enough, the girl nodded with a happy smile, her bright blue-streaked brown hair waving in the light breeze. For the first time, in a very long time, Taylor smiled, "Melissa! You're back! When did you get back? Why didn't you call?"

She hugged the girl who had befriended her for a brief period before she had to move away, and for a while Taylor had felt confident enough to try befriending someone else, but then the Locker happened and things went back to how they were, perhaps even worse. But now? Now maybe things wouldn't be so bad if her first friend after Emma was back.

"Eh, things were nuts. And I got back a week or two ago. And...well..." Melissa's expression shifted to one that was slightly uncomfortable, "We need to talk, not here. Your place."

Taylor blinked, but nodded, "Sure. Dad will be happy to see you again, I'm sure."

Melissa smiled, "Thanks Tay, you're awesome. Now come on, I need someone to help me make sure this place hasn't changed, and you're a pretty trustworthy guide."

Taylor's smile grew wider as she began to lead her friend into the school. She didn't even blink when Emma's cronies seemingly vanished and Emma drifted off with an ugly scowl on her face.

What did catch Taylor's attention was the way Sophia was staring at Melissa, specifically at her hair. But after a long moment, Taylor watched Sophia slink away without a word.

'What was that about?'

?

-Protectorate—

?

"First order of business," Armsmaster's clipped voice cut through the general chatter of the meeting room, bringing all eyes to him, "We have received the latest set of videos and note from 'Breeder' to William Jackson. The contents remain extremely disturbing and explicit, and the message in the note..."

The armoured Tinker frowned as Miss Militia spoke up, "The message remains a fairly tame, if detailed expression of Breeder's attraction to Mr. Jackson, and her continued explanation of why she is leaving these disks for him, rather than confront him herself."

"So..." Assault cocked his head, "Basically this is some kid giving notes to her crush along with some sexy pics? Only in this case she's got Nilbog powers and a fetish for shooting vids in what we've so far seen is some kind of underground location somewhere in the city, close enough to Derelict Row to drop this stuff off?"

"Yes," Armsmaster ground out, "And hidden enough that if we try to search for her, she can ambush us from anywhere with those monsters of hers."

"So far," Dauntless spoke up, "The few times she's actually sent them against us, she's never used anything dangerous. Disgusting and a little humiliating yeah," He deliberately ignored the way Battery and Miss Militia shifted, "But never anything that could kill. I think that shows she doesn't want to be treated like some kind of monster, just a kid with a really disturbing sexual kink."

"Morality aside," Armsmaster broke in, "The fact remains that this 'Breeder' is not just dangerous, her videos are catching attention. The BBPD has already passed on messages from informants about all three of the gangs beginning to look for her as well as rumours of Coil being on the move as well."

"Then we keep an eye on them. At the very least, we can get confirmation that she really is dangerous and not just a teenage girl who enjoys using her powers in a really kinky way." Velocity spoke up, "At the very least, if she attacks the gangs with the dangerous monsters, we win."

"A little cold, but I suppose it's appropriate," Miss Militia agreed with a reluctant expression, "Getting attacked by the gangs...it could be a means to convince her to accept the Protectorate."

"Heh, no way we could use her in the Wards though." Assault quipped, "All it takes is one of those tentacle-snakes getting loose and Youth Guard will tear us apart." He chuckled, "Honestly, I was jealous, I thought I was the only one who could make Puppy squeal like-"

What the ex-villain and breakout specialist was going to say was drowned out by the crashing of the man being sent flying from his wife's punch as Battery levelled a cool glare at him, "Next time, you get one up the ass and see if you want to talk about it."

Sparing a glance at Assault wheezing on the ground, Armsmaster rolled his eyes behind his helmet, "Speaking of the tentacle-snakes in question, the autopsy report came in." All eyes turned to him as he checked the documents in his hand, "They don't have any capacity for reproduction, but they did find nearly microscopic markers indicating that Breeder deliberately removed any capacity for reproduction."

"Okay," Dauntless remarked with a nod, "Then we just have confirmation that she could easily become Nilbog then, which is why I think we should try diplomacy instead of another full-force search. If she's using Derelict Row to drop off messages, then we can drop off our own, set up a line of communications."

"I think that would be our best option Colin," Miss Militia admitted, "She clearly isn't hostile to the Protectorate, and if she can create creatures that could match, or defeat Nilbogs? That could be an incredible asset to have down the line." She grimaced, "Even if it meant making allowances for her...fetish."

Assault managed to recover and retake his seat, when he asked the one question no-one wanted to ask, "So...do you think she taped us?"

There was a long, long silence in the briefing room.

?

-Curiouser&Curiouser—

?

They had watched all of the videos up to today, even replayed a couple of them. They enjoyed watching the one where 'Breeder' was strapped down to what looked like a hospital gurney, thrashing and pumping out monster after monster, and wondered, if only in passing, what it would be like to touch one of those beasts.

They checked the thread again, and sure enough, there was an update. The content of the update however, brought a concerned frown to their lips.

UrbanWaste (Original Poster)

Protectorate had me drop off a message today. They want Breeder to talk to them. I don't think it's going to work. Anyway, new vids are in the drop-box, and there's one there that I think the Protectorate should see. Immediately.

TinMother (Moderator)

I've viewed the video and have already sent a copy to the Protectorate. Since it's been viewed and downloaded so many times, I can't get it pulled now since it will simply be redistributed.

UrbanWaste (Original Poster)

Yeah, I just hope she responds to the Protectorate...because this could get nasty really quickly.

Their lips quirked, "Curiouser and curiouser." Giggling at their private joke, they opened up the folder containing the newest Breeder videos, "Well now, let's see what Breeder did that has so much attention. Hmm?"

Opening the video, the player began showing an underground corridor and it was apparently the feed from a hidden security camera as light entered the dark corridor and a team of uniformed men and women entered the corridor, "Alpha to Command, we have entered the AO. No sign of target yet."

There was a pause, "Understood. All teams, Alpha, stay frosty. Target has so far shown exceptional capacity for rapid mass-production and adaptation to external threats. Shoot to kill anything that isn't the target."

The camera shifted, revealing it was under some form of external control, before it flicked to another team of men and women heading down a corridor. And in the corner, there! Something slithered out of sight in the shadows, out of the soldier's view.

"The fuck does Coil want this bitch anyway?"

"Fuck's sake Lannister, you saw the vids in the briefing didn't you? We get this slut, Coil gets his own little monster factory."

"And how the fuck is he going to stop it from turning on him?"

"I just get paid to grab shit and shoot things. Like you. So shut up and keep an eye out for her shit."

More movement, things slithering silently along the ceiling into vents, others crawling into dark corners out of the view of the soldiers and their flash-lights.

The camera shifted again. This time, it showed the Breeder, sitting in a chair, surrounded by screens. The camera shifted it's view, and the closest screen showed something moving in the darkness.

Something big. And as it moved from one screen to another, the Breeder laughed quietly just a rumbling growl echoed in the distance.

The mercenaries noticed it as the view switched, "What the fuck was that?"

"Dios Mio, that was no tentacle-snake, that was something big."

The merc leader chuckled, "So she's got security? Fine. We'll kill it just the same."

As they made that statement, the view switched to the Breeder once more, and this time, her stomach was starting to swell.

"Come and get me."

Entailment

(Автор: Atrium Carceris)

I looked at myself in the mirror. Tall, gangly. Old. My hairline wasn't getting any better, of course. I wasn't normally a self-conscious man, but lately things have been different. I leaned forward, putting my hands against the sink, and took a slow deep breath. I looked down, thinking for a moment of splashing my face with some cold water to try and feel better. Wash the bad feelings away. There was no point. I looked back up at the mirror.

I saw her reflection as she entered the bathroom.

"Hey," said Lisa. She was wearing a bathrobe like me, but hers was a bit too long for her. It was white, with a tiny version of the hotel's logo on it.

I stood up straight, involuntarily sighing as I did so. Lisa smile turned a bit annoyed.

"Come on," she said, her smile turning mischievous as she undid the belt around her waist. My breath hitched as she let the bathrobe fall to the floor around her. We'd been doing this for a while and seeing her still surprised me.

I felt my face flush as my eyes went from her face and slowly trailed down... down. Her loose hair draped over her pale skin, her small breasts... I felt they'd grown since I first saw them. I felt bad for looking so long.

I couldn't help but notice that what used to be fine blonde hairs down below had been shaved into a landing strip. I could barely make out there was anything there at all now.

"What do you think?" she asked, a gleam in her eye. "I didn't know if I should just shave it all or leave a little something."

"Looks good," I said, smirking slightly despite myself. I watched as she slowly walked by me towards the shower, her hips swaying intently before she opened the shower door and turned the water on.

She waited a moment, her hand testing the water before stepping in and looking back at me. She chuckled.

"You're not that old Danny, everything's working fine. Get in the shower." She put her hands on her hips like she was scolding me, but there was humour in her eyes. Steam started to pour out of the shower as water cascaded down her body, her hair slick and sticking to her shoulders.

I took off my bathrobe, then picked Lisa's up from the floor and setting both of them aside, neatly folded. Lisa just stood and watched impatiently.

When I was done, I tried to not feel embarrassed as I got inside the shower, Lisa stepping aside to make room. It was a bit crowded since it was a small hotel shower, and because I was taller I ended up stealing all the water as I stood under the shower head.

"Let's switch place," said Lisa. I nodded, taking a step back and to the side to let Lisa slip past me, deliberately brushing up against my body as she did so. I tried to think about other things besides the young naked blonde in here with me.

"It's cute that you still try to maintain composure, but really," began Lisa, picking up the complimentary bars of soap and lathering it up in her hands. She started the lather herself up and I tried not to stare, even as she continued. "Two months we've been together. We've seen each other dozens of times. We've had sex. Come on."

She made a twirling motion with her finger which I interpreted as her wanting me to turn around. I complied, and soon felt her soft soapy hands running along my back and shoulder. I closed my eyes, sighing.

"That's more like it," she said. God what would Annette think? It felt like I was always thinking that question. I'd convinced myself that she probably would have wanted me to move on but... not like this.

When I felt Lisa was done with my back I turned around and she handed me the soap. I washed myself, before Lisa turned around and let me wash her back. I went lower than I should have, and lingered longer, but Lisa didn't say anything.

She turned back around and grabbed the shampoo.

"You're too tall, but you can do me," she said, holding the bottle out for me. I shrugged and took it from her, squirting a bit of it into my palms. "That's a two-in-one shampoo and conditioner," she continued as she turned back around. "The good stuff too. It probably costs more than this stupid room." There was no way that was true, but I didn't question it as I started to work it through her hair and her scalp.

Her hair was so unlike how Annette's was, but still nice in its own way. Blonde, straight, usually smelling vaguely of citrus from whatever shampoo she usually used. This one didn't smell like citrus, but lavender. I didn't like it as much.

When I was done I gathered some lather and put it straight on my own hair. I had less of it; I didn't need anymore shampoo to wash my hair.

Lisa let her hair wash through as I finished up, and instead of turning around leaned back into me. I tried to keep calm as I felt her warm body up against mine, the water falling down my head and flowing down on each side of her. I finished my hair as I began to grow hard.

"Ah, a little early, huh?" she asked, pressing herself against me even more. A few moments later she leaned forward and turned the water off, and I felt myself missing her touch.

She didn't waste time in stepping out of the shower, leaving me alone and wet. I followed her out, and she handed me a towel and then my bathrobe, as we both dried off and went to the sink, grabbing our tiny travel sized toothbrushes and brushed our teeth. When we were done with our nightly oral hygiene issue Lisa returned to the bedroom while I lagged behind, taking another look at myself in the mirror.

I was so old.

Lisa got to the bed, moving the TV remote from the side and putting it on one of the nightstands before taking off her robe again and getting into bed. Her towel was still wrapped around her hair as she slithered under the covers, seemingly oblivious to me watching her.

As I watched, I felt her power with mine. The push-pull feeling that used to be just like the others was now something unique to itself, a distinctive marking beyond the typical individual qualities that all parahumans had. It was almost pleasing just to pay attention to it.

God I hoped it didn't mean what I thought it meant.

Having wasted enough time, followed her lead, disrobing and joining her under the covers. She scooted over and we laid there for a moment on our backs, not looking at each other, not saying anything, just letting the warmness envelope us, shielding us from the cold night outside.

She moved her arm and grabbed my hand, moving herself closer to me again. Instinctively I let go of her hand, only to move my arm up, beneath her head and around her shoulders. She gave a small sigh I couldn't interpret before shifting over and flopping right on top of me.

The position made it difficult to breathe, but I didn't say anything as I looked into her bottle green eyes. She grinned momentarily before leaning in and pressing her lips against mine. Her towel fell off to the side of me as I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, my heartbeat quickening as the minty flavour of recent mouthwash met my tongue.

I pushed my tongue further in, forcefully, as I moved my back around to Lisa's back, enveloping her small frame. As if sensing my minor discomfort, Lisa pulled away and rolled back to the side of me, sitting up and moving herself in between my legs. I'd gotten soft again in between getting out of the shower and getting into bed, but that was quickly remedying itself. I decided to sit up as well, using my elbows to prop myself up as Lisa looked at me and leaned in for another kiss.

It lasted only a moment before we broke apart and I felt the now familiar touch of Lisa's hands moving along my sides and down to my now fully erect cock.

"Are you -" I began, but was cut off by Lisa's annoyed reply.

"Yes," she said. A second later she broke eye contact and a second later I felt the warmth of her mouth around my cockhead. My muscles tensed for just a moment before I forced myself to relax, the subtle feeling of Lisa's teeth brushing up against my shaft before she moved her lips over them, pushing herself to slowly swallow more. She always started this way, like she kept track and every time wanted to beat her last record.

"God...," I breathed, feeling just the barest touch of the tip of her nose meet my skin and her hands move down to cup my balls. Almost as soon as I felt it, it was gone, as Lisa quickly moved her mouth back in a long quick motion, the top of her tongue brushing the underside of my head as she pulled my cock of her mouth completely.

I looked down and saw a small trail of spit between her bottom lip and along my dick, an image that despite myself I found to be an incredible turn on.

Lisa smiled at me.

"I'm getting better at this, I think," she said. She gave a short laugh. "Who knew?"

That was a rhetorical question I guessed.

I was about to move around to exchange positions, but she let go of me and put her hands against my chest, pushing me down on the bed.

"I'm on top tonight," she said, an extra sound of authority in her voice. I just nodded dumbly. It wasn't the first time she wanted to take charge.

She straddled me first, and then leaned in for another kiss, letting my penis rest firmly against her belly as she did so. I didn't hesitate, even though in the back of my mind I knew the difference I tasted in her mouth was me. Maybe that made it better for her. It did nothing for me, and Annette didn't do that sort of thing either.

Almost as soon as her name crossed my mind, Lisa broke away and sat back up. She lifted herself slightly, parted her smooth folds and guided me into her, slowly easing herself onto me. I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth envelope my manhood, slowly slowly, until it didn't go further and instead I felt the rhythmic slow grinding of Lisa riding my cock.

I put my hands on her hips, gently going with the motions. I wanted to thrust harder, but I knew she didn't like that in this position. Still grinding, she took my right hand and placed it on her flesh, just above where I entered her. Of course. I was being selfish, not paying attention.

Matching the rhythm she set, I rubbed her small clit with my thumb, gently, the way I knew she liked. Her head moved back suddenly, and she let out a quick sigh before quickening her pace. I moved myself to match, pulsing and rubbing, suddenly feeling myself get close. For a moment I thought I'd cum too early, but the feeling subsided and Lisa went faster, the slick walls of her pussy feeling like they were suddenly getting tighter as she went.

She was getting close.

And all too soon I felt her spasm around my cock, her hips push hard against me and her hand grip mine, urging me to press just a little harder on her clit, but not too hard.

She gasped, and she looked at me, brow furrowed for just a moment before she let herself fall onto me, my penis still inside her, my hand still under her. I moved and held her close, and she awkwardly moved herself up a bit to pull me out of her.

"Sorry," she said. "Give me a few minutes."

I almost laughed.

"Nah," I said. "I'm old. I can't do it every time. It'd kill me." I grinned, trying to take any pressure off her to finish me off. She smiled back, looking a bit sad.

"I'm still sorry," she said. "Next time I'll make sure you come first." She gripped me tighter for a moment, before rolling off me and back onto the bed.

She explained it to me when we started this. She was pretty good at holding her power back, but for a brief moment at orgasm she always lost concentration. She said it was impossible to hold it, that everybody's mind goes blank for just a split second and for her it let the "walls come down" as she put it. It was only for a moment, but it still gave her a headache and she never wanted to do much of anything after sex.

That suited me fine, most times. I didn't want to do anything after sex either.

Lisa, after having rolled to the side of me, grabbed the covers and pulled them back over us. I was glad, because I was starting to feel the cold again as the minutes in the open air, not fucking, ticked by.

I looked at her as she snuggled up under the covers, and she turned her head and looked at me. She stared for a few seconds, and while I couldn't hear anything, I could see her body under the blankets move up and down in a sigh.

"You're still feeling guilty." she said. It wasn't a question.

I moved up, resting my head firmly on the pillow and turning back to look at the ceiling.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get used to this," I said.

"I'd really like it if you did," replied Lisa. She didn't sound forceful. It was almost pleading, but not quite there either.

"It's too much," I said. "Moving on from... my wife's death. That's one thing. Not that I think I've done that yet, but it's something I should have done. She wouldn't have wanted me to never find somebody else. But you...."

I heard a small noise.

"I know what you mean, but it still makes me feel bad when you say it like that. Like it's my fault that -"

"God," I said, cutting her off. "Of course it's not your fault. This isn't even a problem, not really. It's just... complicated. Ignoring the issue of Annette, there's still Taylor. There's still the fact that you're only a year older than my own daughter. How is... this, going to continue past a certain point? She has enough problems now, and when the time comes to tell her about my new occupation, how am I supposed to bring up that the only friend she has is fucking her father, and was doing that first?"

"You're thinking about that too much," said Lisa, starting to sound genuinely annoyed now. "And besides, that's not what's really bothering you. Your wife... I know I'm not a replacement for her to you, nobody could be. And think through this, there's an age difference, yeah. This isn't illegal, I'm seventeen, I'm above the age of consent in this state. Taylor isn't... she can handle it if she's told the right way, at the right time. It's nothing to worry about. And you know that."

She stopped speaking, and the silence dragged on long enough that I turned my head to look at her, to see what she was doing. She was still staring at me.

"You feel guilty because you still think you're a monster," she said when our eyes met. She turned on her side and reached over, enveloping me in a hug. "You're not a monster. We just got... forced together, but it worked out in the end."

"I just think," I found myself saying. It suddenly felt like I was outside of my body, watching myself speak. "That I'm too old. You've got your whole life ahead of you. As much as I hate to admit it, I've found myself caring about you, maybe even loving you somehow, in this short amount of time. I don't like the idea that you're wasting your time with some old man, wasting your happiness."

Lisa didn't say anything. Instead she let go of me, and returned to laying on her back.

"I doubt that," she said finally. "For reasons I don't really want to get into, you're probably the best I'll ever find. And I'm okay with that. I'm not settling, I've found somebody compatible."

"I find that hard to believe," I said. "I'm nothing special."

"You're something special to me. You don't know it, but you kind of hit all my emotional buttons. You treat me like I've always wanted to be treated, you're a good man, and if what happened had never happened, I could imagine we'd still be great friends because of it."

I took a moment to digest that. I wondered if it had anything to do with her bad family life, before she'd been picked up by Coil. Probably. A horrible thought that I reminded her of her father in some way, swept through my mind, and Lisa suddenly giggled. I looked at her, my eyes still wide from the thought.

"Look at you," she said. "You've got me talking all mushy." She laughed for real, and I waited for her giggle fit to finish before putting my arm around her again.

"Just stop worrying," she said finally. "I'm happy where I am. You make me feel... comfortable. Safe."

"...When I look at you?" I began. "It doesn't bother you? You mentioned before...."

"That's other people. People who don't know me, who don't care about me. You're easy to read, you don't have to constantly reassure me that you're interests aren't only skin deep. I know."

I sighed. I still didn't think this was ever going to get easier.

A loud beeping filled the room, and Lisa shouted, "Shit!" before sitting up and hitting the snooze on the alarm.

"Time's up," she said.

I sighed, sitting up in bed myself. I was quicker getting out of bed than she was, and I was dressed before Lisa even had her bra on.

"Never a full night," I heard her mutter under her breath as she finished up. "You know, one of these days you gotta say you're going on a business trip."

I chuckled, before quickly sobering as I realised that'd be a pretty big lie to Taylor. Then I had an idea.

"You know, I'm heading to Houston next week," I said. "Taylor already knows about that. If you came along we'd have the whole week, alone."

"Sounds like fun," said Lisa, pulling her top on and grabbing her jacket. It was a cold night.

"Let's go," I said. When my hand touched the doorknob, Lisa replied.

"Next time," she said, grinning. "I'll make you come first. Like, twelve times or something. To make up for tonight."

That got a laugh out of me.

"I look forward to it."

Tiger and Her Kitten

(Автор: Mr_John)

Based on the Dom!Taylor/Sub!Sophia discussion. I know it doesn't look like it, but I tried to stay at least partially true tone character of Sophia, and she wouldn't start out moaning 'more, master!' It'd be a slow transformation.


* * *

I looked up at the sky as I walked home. The clouds were beautiful, backlit by the orange hue of the sunset. I sighed, speeding up my steps as I approached my block.

Another day. It hadn't been too bad— Emma has made some loud comments about my appearance, my intelligence, and my complete lack of friends to her minions— enough to maintain her little guise of not talking to me, but still getting the point across. Madison was on yet another trip out of town with her father, probably picking up a tan on a beach somewhere or 'meeting cute guys!' I didn't care enough to find out the where, just the when. She'd be back in two weeks.

It was Sophia that worried me the most. She had been, cliche as it might sound, quiet— too quiet. She wasn't one for cruel comments and spiteful 'pranks.' No, Sophia was physical. Not a day went by without a rough push, a carefully placed foot, or the occasional punch. Never anywhere that would leave obvious bruises, and never hard enough place me in serious danger, but it was constant. While Emma and Madison had off days, times when they'd simply ignore me, and times when they'd be especially vicious, Sophia had a routine.

I think, out of all of them, I hated her the least. While fists hurt, they didn't hurt as much as jokes about car crashes. As unsettling as it was to think about, her brand of bullying was actually reassuring compared to Emma's carefully chosen insults. I'd receive an ankle-hook and tumble to the floor, Sophia would stand over me and smirk, and then she'd go on her way. That was it.

I still wanted to punch her smug little face in, of course, but I'd take a dozen Sophia's over Emma any-day. She was as reliable as clockwork. Thus, when she failed to so much as brush by me in the halls, I got scared. The last time she'd gone quiet....

Well. The locker wasn't a good precedent.

By the time I'd finished worrying myself sick over the possibilities and contemplating going to the police for the hundredth time this week, I was home. Avoiding the squeaky step on my way up the stairs to the front door, I was inside and making myself a sandwich within a minute. Dad wouldn't be home until late tonight— another long evening spent slaving over the books down at the docks, desperately trying to change the numbers through sheer will alone. He didn't talk to me about it, but I heard him on the phone at times, commiserating with friends about the horrible state of affairs and the latest batch of workers that had moved away or fallen to crime. It was sad, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. Finishing my sandwich, I made my way up the stairway to my room slowly, fishing my homework out of my bag as I went. I may not get all of it turned in, thanks to the terrible trio, but every bit helped—

My bag hit the floor as I struggled to comprehend the scene before me. As I stared in shock, Sophia looked up and grinned a wide, pearly-white smile.


* * *

The first thing I noticed— after the fact that Sophia was in my house, Sophia was in my room— was her clothes. She wasn't in the jeans and overly tight t-shirt that I saw every day in school. Instead, she had a sweater with a plunging neckline that formed that v-shape that made it abundantly clear she had cleavage, along with a skirt.

Sophia didn't do skirts. Sophia didn't do anything other than slacks and jeans, period. Even Madison, the Queen of the Sexy Mini-skirt, hadn't managed to convince Sophia to so much as try one on. I had heard this from Madison herself— an offhand comment led to a near-fight between Sophia and Madison about the very same topic. It was one of the few times I had managed to slip away from them after being caught. So why was she wearing one now, in my house if all places— oh, and there was the terror I had managed to briefly displace with my tangent.

Sophia was in my room. The one security that I had— the one place I could go to escape the trio with complete certainty that I was safe— was being ripped away from me in front of my eyes. She had broken in to my sanctuary, utterly destroyed my final place of comfort. I felt... Violated.

She was talking, but I wasn't paying any attention. I whipped my head about, trying to see if she had touched anything— and for the most part, it looked like she hadn't. Only one thing was out of place— the door to my closet. But the only things of value in there...

Were my notebooks.

As my eyes snapped back to Sophia, I noticed one little detail I hadn't before— the spiral-bound pages on her lap. I only had a brief moment of relief— the coded, larger book of plans for my cape life was in the basement, after a long night of directing spiders— but the notes she had were almost as bad. The first book was my account of every single little assault I had suffered for almost a year and a half, now. Every taunt, every push, every piece of damage, up to and including the locker. If she destroyed that, most of my case went down the drain. And the other book...

That was my revenge notebook. All my research, all the different plans for involving the police, the school board, even the childish revenge fantasies wherein I imagined using the evidence to blackmail the trio into being my slaves and worse, it was in there. And it was the one she had been reading as I entered.

Panic and adrenaline were coursing through my veins with every heartbeat. Sophia was still talking, though I couldn't hear anything beyond my blood pounding in my ears. There wasn't any way out of this. She had the key pieces, and she was stronger, more athletic, and overall the obvious winner in a fight. I couldn't get them back.

But I had to try.

The four steps between Sophia's seat-my bed-and the door disappeared near-instantly to my eyes. One second, Sophia was smirking as she said something, and the next her startled face was right in front of mine— before my fist smashed into her nose. Later, when I thought of this moment, I would assume that the sheer surprise Sophia felt when I finally chose to get physical was enough to stun her momentarily. Unfortunately, she wasn't stunned for long.

The next few moments passed in a red haze. When I came to, I was pinned to the floor with my hands over my head, and Sophia was sitting on top of me. One of my eyes hurt beyond belief, and Sophia's grip was near-crushing, but her nose was bent out of shape and she had a split lip.

She was also smiling wider than I had ever seen from her.

As I struggled futilely against her hold, she repositioned me as easily as I might move a baby. Her hands came together above my head, and the separate grips became one. Her now-free left hand lifted up and felt her nose. When it came away red with blood, her smile only got wider.

After that quick expenditure of energy, I was starting to come back to my senses— and the terror was returning. I had just punched Sophia in the face. I had punched Sophia in the face, and broken her nose. As her bloody hand slowly lowered, I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see the revenge hit coming.

When my face didn't immediately explode with pain, I became confused. The feather-light stroking of my cheek didn't help.

Sophia was touching— no, Sophia was caressing my face. With her dripping, wet hand. I shivered in disgust, my eyes still clenched firmly shut. Of course, that just prompted a laugh from my tormentor— and that brought the earlier rage back. Given the situation, I then did something incredibly stupid— I snapped my teeth at her fingers.

She was quicker than I was, and pulled back moments before I would've taken off her fingernails. The gasp of surprise was expected. The second laugh was not.

The kiss? That was really unexpected.

My eyes flew open in shock. Sophia was kissing me— well, Sophia was raping my mouth. Her tongue was inside before I could do more than flinch, and then I was distracted with a whole new set of problems.

I had never kissed anyone before that. Well, Emma and I had kissed as children, but a full-on tongue-party like Sophia was pulling on me? I had never experienced it before. It was completely new— and pretty damn awesome. The endorphins running through me made everything more sensitive, and when I instinctively pressed against her to kiss her back, her moan sent shivers down my spine. There was a good ten seconds where the outside world faded, and all I could focus on was the kiss.

When she pulled back, we were both breathing heavily, and I was much more aware of our positioning. Sophia's sweater had been torn, and the front was hanging open, giving me a close-up view of her bra that many boys at our school would kill for. My shirt had ridden up pretty damn high, and everything below my chest was exposed to the world— and I could definitely feel the rub of Sophia's panties against my stomach.

More importantly, Sophia's grip had loosened. I took a moment to catch my breath as I stared Sophia in the eye.

Then I flipped us.


* * *

Sophia had not been ready for the surge of activity. Within seconds, her back was on the ground. I had her arms pinned, but it wasn't good enough. She had been strong enough to hold both of my arms down with one of hers— I seriously doubted that I could hold her if she didn't want to be held.

So I cheated.

I was currently 'sitting' between her thighs. It was more of a kneeling position, with her legs splayed across the sides of mine. I loomed over her, holding her wrists above her in much the same way she had me. Luckily, Sophia was actually a good couple of inches shorter than me. Only my slumped stance had kept us at a near-even level at school-but here, she had needed to actually sit on top of me for the reach needed to keep my hands above my head. I didn't need that extra space. In fact, I was perfectly positioned to pull off my distraction.

It was partially fueled by the kiss-okay, mostly fueled-but I needed time to put her down. We had rolled right up next to my bedside desk, on my left, and the cord for my alarm clock was well within reaching distance. But to actually grab it, pull it out of the wall, and wrap it around her hands would take far longer than I had. Even as I planned this out in the space of seconds, Sophia was blinking some sense back into her eyes. Therefore, the distraction.

I pressed forward with my hips, and ground the front of my crotch against Sophia's panties. Simultaneously, I dropped my head, and bit down on the hard, cloth-covered nub nearly poking a hole in her bra.

Sophia damn near shrieked. Her back arched up against me, her fists clenched, and her legs curled around mine in a very firm hold. All in all, by the time she recovered from it, I had a nice neat knot keeping her wrists together with part of the extension cord.

I was also panting pretty heavily. I had just driven an incredibly attractive girl into a fit, she was still moaning, and I swear I could feel the dampness through my jeans. I was having a really tough time not reaching for my own zipper.

As I caught my breath and the arousal faded, however, I started to shake. I had Sophia tied down beneath me. I had Sophia Hess tied down beneath me. I had Sophia Hess, one of my main tormentors, and someone I pretty much despised tied down beneath me.

I was also running high on the cocktail of chemicals that had to be running through my body. I wasn't in the best state of mind— hell, part of me demanded that I skip over the whole 'hated nemesis' bit and go straight into ravishing the cute, panting girl who was literally at my mercy.

Another part of me demanded I smash my fist into Sophia's face a couple more times. She really, really deserved it. Maybe a few more bruises would straighten her out?

And finally, the majority of me was freaking the hell out. Sophia was in my room, Sophia had seen my books, I had punched her, what if she took this to court Emma's dad would devastate us but she kissed me but now she's tied up and I practically raped her and that look she's giving me isn't helping at all—

"Going to untie me anytime soon, Hebert?" Sophia seemed almost... mellow. She was definitely more relaxed than I'd ever seen her before. Once again, I was partially proud, pissed, and terrified of this statement.

Only this time, angry won.

"No. No, I don't think I am. You broke into my home, and you aren't going anywhere until I get an explanation." Sophia finally seems to lose some of that calm. Not enough to really be angry, but she's definitely annoyed.

"Fine. Emma talked about your house, yesterday. Said it was a dump. I left after lunch for a meeting, and decided to walk back to my place after. Walk wasn't too far from your house, decided to come by, and looked through your room-" my slap caught her entirely off-balance. It surprised me as well, but just the thought of Sophia just deciding to rummage through my room like it was no big deal made me so angry..

Sophia only looked shocked for a few seconds before that weird smirk returned.

"Anyways, I found your plans. And Jesus Christ, Hebert, I was so fucking wrong about you it's hilarious."

What.

"There are two kinds of people, Hebert. Predators and prey. And here I thought you were the weakest kind of prey there was— wouldn't even fight back to save itself. Instead, you were fucking gathering evidence. You wrote down every little fucking thing, and then you made up ways to bring down the wrath of fucking God down on us. I saw the other plans, too. Who knew Hebert was such a pervert?"

Oh fuck. I knew the blackmail plans would come back to haunt me. I had experimented with Emma once or twice, sure, and all three girls of the trio were hot in their own way— preppy Madison, the blond/blue eyed perfect student, model Emma who knew exactly how to wear the latest fashion, and dusky Sophia. Who had the lean, muscled body of a track star. What kind of person wouldn't find the idea of such a spread serving their every whim incredibly arousing?

"You just gave me the best orgasm I've had since, fuck, I don't even know, don't blush like a fucking virgin! You're a predator, Hebert, and I didn't even notice until I fucking tripped over it! If you hesitant on me now-"

Before I even think about it, I reach down and take the nipple I bit between my thumb and finger and twist. Sophia breaks off in the middle of her sentence with moan, and I quietly freak out over actually doing that.

"...Here's the deal, Hebert. You don't pull out your shit, and I get Emma and Mads to back down."

This time, I don't just twist, I twist and pull. Hard. Sophia convulses with a breathy squeak that she strangles in less than a second.

"Really? You actually think that I'm going to give up just because you saw it? I've got enough 'shit' to drown all three of you in trouble. Why should I back down? In fact, why shouldn't I go to the cops right now? Breaking and entering is a pretty serious crime..." Sophia takes several seconds to get her breathing under control, but when she does, her smirk returns.

"I'm not stupid, Hebert. You had plans to get video, but right now, all you have is your word and writing. And don't even try to talk about the cops with me— who's tied up and soaking in her own juices, here? Your dad ain't exactly rich, either. And court case is going to cost you money you don't have, especially with such shitty evidence and Emma's dad on our side. The best you're gonna get is me telling them to hold off." This time I switch nipples, giving the other clothed peak some attention as well. Sophia is more than happy to push against my fingers. The first time I twisted her was to punish her. Now it's partly to punish her, and partly because I really really like how she's writhing and panting.

The next minute is weird. Part of it is spent contemplating going to the police about the girl I currently have moaning beneath me, and part of it is spent contemplating the fact that I have Sophia Hess beneath me and I'm toying with her nipples.

Jesus Christ.

Most annoying is the fact that she's right. Anything I try to do will cost me I just as much as it'll cost them. The entire point of this was to get them to stop— the revenge was a nice bonus. If I have the chance...

"Fine. I won't take this to court, and you get the other two to stop. No messing around with the deal— we both know what I mean. Now, it's time for you to leave."

I stand up, then bend over and almost drag Sophia up to her feet. I drag her to the front door by the cord— my alarm drags on the ground, but at the moment I couldn't care less. By the time I've reached the door, Sophia has regained some semblance of reason.

"Wait, wait! Are you seriously gonna just push me out there like this?!"

I take a moment to look Sophia over, and it's very apparent what her problem is. Her sweater is ripped almost clean through, and her bra is doing a pretty bad job of covering up her nipples. Her skirt has ridden up her sides, and Sophia's uncomfortable shifting at my appraising gaze gives me glimpses of her very wet panties.

Suddenly, a wicked thought comes to mind, and I can't resist. Get her wound up, then push her out there without a finish. After such a surreal evening, what's one more dirty deed to add to the list?

"You're right, Sophia." I practically purr the words. "I suppose I can't just leave you like this..." Twirling her around, I have her pressed up against the back of the front door in moments. Pressing against her, I trail one hand up and down her bare leg, slowly working my way inwards. With the other hand, I slowly untie the cord. Sophia shivers, biting her lip in an effort to keep quiet when I finally reach the end of my journey. I rub gently against her center through the panties, then push ever so slightly inwards. She gasps, her eyelids fluttering, and I finally pull off the last of the cord—

The next thing I know, I'm on the floor. Sophia is once again on top of me, and is doing her best to suffocate me with her tongue. She also has one hand up my shirt, squeezing my breast almost painfully, while her other hand slips down the front of my pants and immediately curls over my mound to rub against me. Sophia is less than patient— a moment later, the rubbing becomes penetration, and her fingers twist and scissor inside me. I'm tensing up in seconds, and I ride out the best orgasm I've ever had.

Seriously. No masturbation could compare to this.

When it's done, I'm left panting on the floor. Sophia finishes the kiss, and pulls back. Slipping her fingers out of me in one quick motion, she brings them up between us, rubbing them together to show off the sticky wetness that's caught there.

She then sucks them into her mouth. I twitch. She acts as though it's delicious-, closing her eyes and making audible sucking noises, humming in apparent delight.

It's way too soon for me to be getting aroused again.

Of course, as soon as she finishes, I realize that it's the same hand that was originally covered in blood. Somehow, this fails to kill my buzz. Of course, it isn't helped by the way that she stands up, shimmies out of her panties, and drops them onto my face with a smirk.

"Remember, Hebert, you aren't the only one who likes to be on top."

She's out the door in seconds, leaving me behind in a puddle of cum with wet panties on my nose.

I slowly stand, make my way upstairs, drop the panties off on my bed, and move into the bathroom.

I then proceed to vomit as the incredible tension decides to release.

I fucked Sophia Hess.

But somehow, that's a good thing?

No more terrible trio, anyway. And the sex was great.

I think I'll just count today as an overall win, and hope that Sophia wasn't lying.

.....and now I won't be able to sleep tonight, worrying about wether or not she's telling the truth.


* * *

I didn't go to school the next day.

Dad came home late. One twenty three in the morning, my now slightly-beat-up clock told me. He went to bed almost immediately.

Meanwhile, I stared at my ceiling.

My mind ran in circles. Sophia had broken into my room. I had punched Sophia. I had some weird, machoistic form of sex with Sophia. Sophia had promised to get the trio to back off. Sophia had fucked me back, and then left her panties on my face.

I had put the panties into the back of my closet, along with the notebooks. Thinking of the notebooks brought my thoughts right back around to the fact that Sophia had broken into my house and read them, and the cycle began again.

I passed out at some point. I don't know when. The adrenalin crash and the late hour finally overcame my frantically worried thoughts.

When I woke up, it was well past noon. I also felt better than I had in a long while; orgasms are good stress relievers. Dad had left a note in the kitchen— I had refused to be woken up, and dad had decided to let me sleep. He also wanted an explanation for my black eye, and he expected me to go to school tomorrow.

I decided that I was too mellow to deal with thoughts of seeing the trio at school tomorrow, so I made some quick ramen for lunch. Unfortunately, eating the ramen woke my stomach up— and it most definitely wanted more. I had eaten another bowl of ramen, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and two meat-and-cheese sandwiches by the time I was done. Of course, by this point my previously ignored eye was aching painfully, so I grabbed a bag of ice and did what I always did when I wanted to avoid thinking about how much my life sucked.

I worked on becoming a superhero.

The spiders I had left in the basement had suffered some casualties when I wasn't around to suppress their instincts, as usual, but it hadn't been too bad. A jog outside would let me gather enough to replace them easily. But for now, I stripped off my clothes, pulled on the beginnings of my spider-silk gloves and shoes, sat down in a chair I had rescued from a dumpster, leaned back, closed my eyes and had hundreds of black widows crawl all over my body in a horrific substitute for actual measuring equipment/dummy.

I couldn't completely suppress the shudder that ran through me as hundreds of tiny legs skittered up and down my nude body. It had taken a ridiculous amount of practice to get this far without shivering in disgust and instinctual terror. Intellectually, I knew the spiders were under my complete control, but the hindbrain doesn't care about that. It cares about all the completely lethal threats crawling over my body.

Still, sacrifices had to be made. I couldn't make a costume that fit without knowing all the important fiddly little details, and I couldn't effectively measure those little details with a variety of equipment. A simple cloth tape measure would suffice for almost everything, of course, but it wouldn't be as precise as I'd want it. Especially if I had to direct the spiders to make it on the ground, or on a hook, or just about anything else. Instead, I had them weave it directly on my body.

It wasn't easy. One of the biggest problems was putting it all together— I could focus only so many spiders onto my limbs before crowding made them ineffective. The actual weaving was done in shifts, with spiders exhausting their spinnerets and moving away to let other spiders pick up their lines. One of the benefits of this was a near-skintight suit. Unfortunately, one of the drawbacks of this was that it was a near-skintight suit. It was a close enough weave that when I finished the first part of the boots and had reached just above my ankles— and the joint there had been a bitch to work around enough to allow for easy slipping into it, without having too much loose silk— I had been forced to pull out a section of my body hair.

I hadn't even thought of the hair getting in the way, and had ended up weaving it into the silk. Pulling those boots off was one of the most painful things I've ever done. Needless to say, I started to shave everywhere on my body near religiously after that harrowing experience. It seemed to be working— this was the fourth rendition of my costume. Weaving with spiders was hard, and due to the process making mistakes wasn't fixable. I couldn't take the suit apart after I had put it together, and the earlier three glove-boot combos I had started, only to mess up, were currently sitting in a corner.

This time, though, I had practiced enough to get it right! I would continue on past my knees and shoulders— the current limits of my expertise— and make a full costume! I would—

As the boots slowly worked their way up my thighs, a lone spider finally made the trek across my folds, and production stuttered to a halt as I dealt with the tickling.

That had felt entirely too good. Obviously I was still sensitive from yesterday, and I should just ignore it, and I'm having a horrible idea.

It took me several seconds of arguing with myself— what could it hurt? Well, it's a black widow spider, so it could hurt a WHOLE DAMN BUNCH— except I've never lost control. Not once. What part of 'dangerously lethal' do you not get!?— but by the end of it, I was as convinced as I was going to be. I paused the motion of all the spiders I had working, and very carefully sent one scurrying across me once again.

It felt like little pinpricks of fire, tingling and leaving me aching for more. Unable to resist, I sent the spider across once more, and again, until I finally had it simply dancing atop the now-glistening flesh. It wasn't enough.

Soon enough, I had spiders running across my skin— and in this new, delightful context, it was far from disgusting. My entire body felt like it was being gently brushed against, as if a troupe of painters had decided to worship me. Spiders pulled at my nipples with my direction, and the twisting fire of lust in my gut only increased. It wasn't enough— I needed something in me, and shamefully enough it was only the fact that I'd probably crush the things that kept me from trying out a spider. Instead, I had to settle for a hand.

Reaching down, I cleared the spiders away just fast enough to keep them from being smashed as I immediately pushed in— and gasped in delight. I had been working with spider silk for days now. I was perfectly aware of the fact that it was delightfully soft, but seeing as I'd been covered in spiders every time is had it on and had mostly focused on that little distracting detail, it hadn't really occurred to me how good it felt. I was making up for that lack of knowledge right now.

My fingers slipped in with ease. The feeling of silk was entirely new, and very, very pleasant. The silk was liquid-proof, so my juices couldn't soak in— and with the combined slickness and nigh-frictionless material, my digits damn near glided into me. Before I knew it, I was knuckle deep and pumping as hard as I could.

Here, however, the same lack of friction was punishing me. I couldn't build up heat, couldn't work it as well as I could with my bare fingers— I was simply pushing in and out. So I improvised.

Before now, I hadn't been hard to please. Two fingers, rubbing against my clit and a bit of nipple pinching was enough to get me off. Not with this. So, I made up for quality with quantity. Three fingers was more than I had ever tried before, and it stretched me in the best of ways. Instead of simply pumping in and out I mixed it up. Imitating Sophia, I scissored my fingers open and closed, curled them up and stroked my inner walls, and generally did my best to send myself into orgasm.

It worked. Before long I was clenching around my fingers, hissing out my breath through clenched teeth, and practically ripping my nipple off with my other hand.

Man, Sophia knew how to do it. Why hadn't I tried this before?


* * *

Dad came home around nine, I told him I had gotten into a fight with some prick down at the Boardwalk and dealt with his minor panic attack. By that time the bodysuit was nearing completion, and I found out how I'd fucked up. There was such a thing as too skin-tight, and I had passed by that a while ago. I didn't just have a camel-toe in the thing— I had silk outlining every single bit of my slit. I had very visible bumps perched atop my breasts as well.

It looked like I'd have to loosen up the fabric yet again. The entire day had been a waste of time.

Well. Almost the entire day. I'd messed around more than once, and it turns out that silk is a horrible torture device. Enough to let pressure and heat through, but soft enough that it takes real creativity to work around. In similar news, the bodysuit was absolute torture to try and masturbate in. I could rub, but the silk wasn't stretchy enough for actual penetration, nor did it translate the rubbing very well with it's stupid-soft feeling.

I had started on my next attempt, and was generally feeling pretty damn good about myself as I went to bed. I would have to deal with Sophia tomorrow, but several orgasms were enough to blunt any worry I might have felt.

It was a rather happy, if tired, Taylor Hebert that fell asleep.


* * *

School was nice.

That statement felt really damn weird just to think, but it was true.

Nobody bothered me. Emma stared at me every time she was within sight with the cutest mix of astonishment, curiosity, and a little bit of fear. All of the hanger-ons felt the shift, and avoided me as well. I went throughout the day without hearing a single mean comment, no pranks, no activity at all from her. If there was a paradise in high-school, this might've been it— if it weren't for one niggling little detail.

Sophia.

She followed me everywhere. It wasn't close enough to draw attention. But she'd always be somewhere behind me. She kept on watching, often with that creepy smirk from two days ago. It was only highlighted by the spectacular bruising she had from her nose. Apparently, I hadn't quite broken it, but it was a close thing— or at least, that's what school gossip proclaimed.

It was freaking me out. What did she want? What did she want from me? I just wanted some peace!

That was the reason I slipped out a back door once lunch started. I couldn't take it— I wanted to get away from her stares. I sat against a brick wall, eating and staring at the clouds, reveling in my solitude.

"Damn, Hebert. You almost got away from me."

I admit it, I almost shrieked like a four-year-old. I did tense up hard enough for it to hurt. My heart was pounding in my chest, and it took several seconds of deep breathing before I could slowly twist my head to stare at Sophia.

She had that fucking smirk again. I wanted to punch it.

"I've thought about it. You're a fucking ambush predator. You got enough evidence to try and put us down, and then got some more. You were gonna ruin us— and when I stopped it, you moved on. I ruined the ambush, so you did the smart thing and gave up on it, instead of charging into a trap to try and hurt us anyway. And now you just stalk around the school, fucking ignoring everyone like they're below you-"

Punching Sophia feels good. Even if I know she has to be allowing it. Still, a sock to the gut leaves her bent over long enough for me to pin her to a wall. She doesn't even look phased, just keeping that fucking smirk on and letting me hold her. And that just makes me even angrier.

"You think I want to be alone!? It's all your fault I don't have any friends in the first place! Thanks to you, everyone was too scared to so much as say 'hello' to me! You are the reason I don't have a single person to hang out with!" I practically growl the words into her face. Her smirk just grows and I barely restrain myself from attempting to break her nose again.

"You're doing pretty damn good on your own, Hebert. I know you know that I was following you— I saw the kids who tried to apologize. You just fucking looked down your nose at them, and made them run away with their tails between their legs. You-" I release her arms just long enough to get another punch in to her stomach, cutting her off in the middle of her sentence. Her hands curl around her instinctively, and I press forward, pinning them against her with a hand and the weight of my body. My other hand wraps around her neck.

"They were completely useless when I needed the help. They just stood by and let you do anything you wanted! They're completely worthless! I will not go crawling to the first set of idiots who try to cover their asses with lies and 'sorry's!" I'm actually panting by the time I'm done with that rant. Sophia is outright grinning now, even as I tighten my grip on her neck. I'm really tempted to go for another punch—

And then my back is against the wall, and I'm the one being held down. The way she moved so fast, and is barely even straining to keep me pinned, even as I throw all of my weight at her, makes abundantly clear what I already knew— she was letting me hit her.

"You're a tiger, Hebert. You stalk, you attack when they-we-would've least expected it. And you're perfectly fine without a pack, walking through the halls like you fucking own them." She's practically moaning this last bit out, and she's rubbing against me in a very distracting manner. I take a moment to catch my breath.

"If I'm a tiger, what does that make you? What kind of animal do you think of yourself as, in your messed-up predator-prey thing?" Sophia doesn't even hesitate. She answers fast enough that she must've been expecting this question.

"I'm a fucking lion, Hebert. I'm the leader of the entire fucking pride, and I take what I want!"

And then she's kissing me. It's just as nice as I remember, the way she presses against me, the way she closes her eyes and puts her all into it. Especially the way she loosens her grip as she gets distracted. A rough push forward and we're back in the same position as we were at my house, with me hovering over her. Sophia is flushed, breathing heavily, and entirely too cute, trapped beneath me. As I stare down at her, it finally hits me— this is why I was able to tie her down. She's stronger than me, but when she ends up excited, all that strength disappears with her distraction.

So I take advantage of it.

"You don't look like a lion right now, Sophia." I end the statement by slipping a hand into her pants, rubbing up against her cloth-covered slit with my palm. She lets out a loud-too loud-moan, and I cover her mouth with my other hand. Her fingers go from clawing at the ground to grabbing my wrists with a near-painful grip, which only grows tighter as I make slow circles with my palm.

"In fact, you look adorable beneath me. I think you're more of a kitten right now." She actually focuses somewhat, angry, and starts to move my hand from her mouth— only to lose that clarity as soon as I push the bridge of her panties to the side and stroke the curve of her pussy with one finger, then two. My thumb comes down to grind her clit— at this point, she's actively pushing her hips up while pulling down with her grip on my hand. I can feel the muffled whimpers through my palm.

The feeling of having Sophia whining in need beneath me is incredible. The only way this could get any better...

I cease my movements— Sophia's eyes flutter open as she tries to force me to resume with her hold on my hand— but she's much to distracted right now to give it her all. I take a few seconds to make sure I have her attention— then I move my grip from her mouth to her throat and lean in.

"You want more, kitten? Then ask me for it. Ask me to rub your pussy. Beg me-beg Taylor-for it." The demand has Sophia focusing faster, and she starts to actually begin pulling my hands away. That stops as soon as I press down with the pad of my thumb and scrape across her button— she dissolves into panting and weak tugs on my wrists.

"Fuck.... You.... Heb-AAAAHH!" Sophia is loud. Loud and stubborn. It takes several more loops of attempted resistance, pleasure, and so on before she gives in. At this point, her hands have returned to clawing at the ground, no doubt ruining her nails beyond repair. My hand is soaked, and there's a giant wet spot spreading along her jeans. I'm careful not to overdo it— Sophia needs to ask before I finish her. Lunch ended a good while ago. When she gives in, I'm pretty relieved— I don't soak my clothing as easily as Sophia, but after all this, there's a large wet spot of my own making on my underwear. If it kept on much longer I'd end up with a stain on my pants as well.

"Fucking.. FINE! P-pl.... PLEASE! Please rub my pussy, Tay-Tiger! Please, oh fuck, fuck me hard, Tiger!" It's not exactly what I wanted, but it's close enough. I could get used to a nickname like Tiger. Especially if I heard it from a writhing Sophia. I push inwards with my fingers, pressing three inside her right up to my knuckles before wiggling them in a wave-like motion as fast and hard as I can.

She screams. Sophia announces her orgasm to the entire school with great enthusiasm and deceptively big lungs for a girl her size. I cut it off after a second of shock by tightening down my grip on her throat, but that just seems to increase her pleasure. She's whipping around on the ground, almost convulsing as she wheezes with her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Holy crap. I don't enjoy my orgasms nearly that much. I'm actually kind of jealous— but mostly I want to pull down my pants, shove her hand into my crotch and demand that she please me. Now isn't the time for that, though— I'm already really, really late for class, and while I'm sure Sophia the track star can get away with it, I'm not that popular. Plus, I want to just leave her here after completely dominating her-and wasn't that such a nice thought, completely dominating Sophia-while using her for pleasure would give her a kind of power. Instead, I pulled back, releasing her throat and slipping my hand out of her pants, leaving her glassy-eyed and panting on the grass. I study my fingers— they actually glisten in the light, they're so wet.

Luckily, I have a solution for that.

I take Sophia's chin in my clean hand, pull her head towards me, and shove my fingers into her mouth. She instinctively closes her lips and begins to suck— I have to suppress a moan of my own when she starts to lick. I take a moment just to enjoy the sensations, then reluctantly pull my digits away. Sophia tries to hang on— the last one leaves her mouth with a pop and a whimper.

She's so adorable like this.

"Bye, kitten. I'll see you soon!" I finally stand up, just as Sophia begins to regain her senses.

"F-fuck... You.. Hebert..." I actually snort. I wish she had. Walking away, I leave Sophia there to rest.

.....Tiger, huh? I could work with that. I'd have to stop by the boardwalk on the way home.


* * *

The next day at school, I show up in an orange t-shirt with black stripes.

Sophia takes one look at me and turns right around to walk in the other direction.


* * *

Sophia didn't stay away for long.

The day I wore the striped shirt to school was a Friday. A long weekend of laziness, a small amount of homework and way too much assisted masturbation in the basement, tied together with my new, bully-free status did wonders for my stress. It turns out that making a not-skintight suit was much more difficult than a tight one— I had to account for slack, both as I worked on it and where I wanted that slack to be further in. After the first failure, one that ended up sagging on me in all the wrong places, I rationed the silk much more stringently. I had a limited number of spiders, and if I depleted the local population by working them to death I'd have to go further and further to gather more. In the end, experimentation lead me to a couple of interesting discoveries.

The first one was that I had been severely underestimating the strength of the silk. I heard bullet-proof, but I hadn't taken into account the actual details beyond 'I can do this!' My first experimental creation was a light, eight-layer glove. My original suits had been layered down tightly, in stacks of twenty or more. That glove? It took a lot of pulling before I could so much as tear it. Going back and taking a pair of wire cutters to my original gloves revealed that once I was finished, I could probably take a sword to the face and fail to bleed.

After that, I went a little bit crazy with the stuff.

I messed around with ropes, cloth, and clothing. A double corded skein of silk (or threads wrapped around threads to form a rope, then wrapping those ropes around more ropes) wasn't hard to make. The thinnest one I created was only a little above half an inch in diameter, but it took my entire weight easily and endured five minutes of hacking with the aforementioned wire cutters before I could even see the start of a tear. Actual cloth weaving meant I could create blankets capable of acting like incredible heat retainers that were mild flame retardant and could hold under the strain of hundreds of pounds— and all of it could fit in a pocket, neatly folded.

When I started with the clothes? Well, I hadn't ever been one for excessive shopping, and had been annoyed more often than excited when Emma had dragged me around to look at 'the cutest dress!' when we were still friends. This, however? Weaving my own clothes? This was fantastic!

I started off simple— robes. I made two versions, with plans for a third once my production rate could handle it. The first one was fairly thin, with fifteen layers. It was light enough that I felt uncomfortable wearing it with anything less than full clothes on beneath. When I first tried it out, naked, I had to constantly glance down to remind myself that I was actually wearing something. The planned one was going to be a whopping seventy-five layers thick— it would be heavier than regular street clothes at that point, but still lighter than any non-synthetic material used to as clothes. With numerous folds planned, I expected to be able to take burst fire from a fairly high-caliber gun and make it out with nothing more than bruises! I would soak in damage from small arms fire like they were pellets! I would be able to freaking stop any kind of bladed weapon cold!

....but that was in the future. Right now, though, my third robe? It was amongst the lightest pieces I'd pulled together, at only six layers. And wearing it nude was an experience like no other. The cloth was so light on my skin I honestly wouldn't have been able to tell the difference between wearing it and not wearing it. It was almost see-through. If it laid flat against my skin you could see the difference in color as my flesh pressed against it, and due to my inexperience with such a light weave there were parts that hadn't come together tightly, forming patches where it was transparent. The whole thing was so light that the smallest breeze would send it fluttering like mad, and simply waving my arms shifted the whole thing. It straddled the line between 'technically covering all the necessary parts' and 'was that a nipple? I'm pretty sure that was a nipple.'

I had to retire that one. I didn't want my hero-ing to start with being arrested by the legal heroes for public indecency.

I had made a single pair of pants that were effectively business slacks with very small pockets. Two kinds of shirts had been created— the t-shirt and a t-shirt that made it abundantly clear that I wasn't wearing a bra. Even with my low bust size. The second had been my first try at actual clothing, thicker than the robe but still too thin. My last creations were also my favorite.

Namely, accessories and underwear.

I tried out all different kinds of the stuff. Regular panties, men's briefs, and a couple of daring thongs that looked more like triangles attached to actual spider thread, due to my now-low supply of silk. Each of them felt deliciously smooth against my skin, and the thongs were especially exciting— I had never wore anything like them before, and I felt sexy. I only had a single bra, a lacy thing that was completely see-through. It used up the last of my silk, and I was determined to wear it and one of my thongs in conjunction at some point.

But really, the things I was most excited by— besides my soon-to-be super cloak of invincibility!— were the accessories. There was a reason I started with the gloves and shoes when working on my actual costume— and only part of it was a desire to work inwards.

There were two things I had inherited from my mother. My hair, and my height.

Mom hadn't been a small girl. At six foot two, she actually rose above dad. She always stood out in a crowd— and when I started shooting up like a weed when puberty hit, mom had laughed and said that another giantess was going to be stalking the streets soon enough. I was among the tallest, if not the tallest girl in my grade— years of bullying had left me with a stooped posture, but even so I rose above most of the girls. At first, I had been proud of my size— until I realized it made it easy for the trio to find me in the hallways. Then it became a burden. Now? They weren't a problem, and I was going to show off— and if my boots had an extra inch or two of padding, well, who would notice? I'd have to add even more for my actual costume to distinguish my cape persona!

The gloves were a different thing altogether. I liked gloves. I wasn't sure when or where I picked it up, but smooth, articulated gloves made me feel powerful and, well, classy. Fingerless biker gloves made me feel tough, with reinforced knuckles for hitting someone if I ever felt like it (not that I had reason to, before the trio formed) and full winter gloves and mittens were extra layers of protection, something I believed you could never have too much of. (Super Invincibility Cloak!) While I wouldn't call it a fetish, exactly, wearing my spider-silk gloves while masturbating made the entire experience more erotic, if a little frustrating and difficult. Especially if I defiled the business gloves with my juices, only to wash them clean in seconds, with no sign of their previous use. I was totally going to abuse that feature.

In the end, a good fourth of my silk production that weekend went towards various gloves and boots. Thigh— and shoulder-high creations, pointed toes and delicate fingers, I spent a good couple of hours simply marching around the house when dad was gone in nothing more than a pair of gloves and shoes.

I christened many different surfaces in the house as well. Dad commented on the smell more than once, and I had practically burned with embarrassment as I hastily told him about my various.... Cooking... Experiments. After that experience I was carful to keep my 'other' activities to the basement.

My rescued chair would never look or smell the same again. It was permanently stained.

Overall, my weekend was incredibly enjoyable. School, when it arrived, passed by just as easily. Emma and Madison avoided me, the teachers and various students accepted the change, and Sophia hunted me down to have angry sex at lunch. I suspect that more than one of the staff and part of the student body had caught on— it was pretty hard to hide the combination of lateness, smell, and general improvement in both my and Sophia's moods when it happened constantly. Nobody ever said anything to me directly, but more than once I caught students muttering things about 'sexual tension' and 'so that's why Sophia went after her.'

I made sure to 'punish' Sophia extra hard on those days. I was working out my frustration on her very willing body, but that didn't change the fact that she pushed me into a locker full of blood, vomit and tampons for two class periods straight. I'm fairly certain she enjoyed it, but it made me feel better, so I bruised her sensitive parts with abandon.

The sex itself fell into routine, aside from my occasional fits. I'd head up to the roof, or into one of the empty classrooms far from the path of travel, or simply out back where it had started. Sophia would show up a minute or two later, after I had most of my lunch in my stomach— or at least she learned to, after one particular incident, a couple of weeks into our 'arrangement'— and she postured before I held her down and violated her. For the first week, she fought back if I left her untouched for long enough. By the second, she didn't even bother to try. The third, well...


* * *

"Come on, Kitten. I don't think you're trying hard enough." I had Sophia pinned to a wall. Her shorts were pooled around her ankles, and her tank-top had been pushed upwards with her bra pulled down. Her eyes were closed as she panted. Her nipples were stiff in the cool breeze, and she had trails of liquid running down her legs, reaching all the way past her still-shaking knees. My hand was still gently probing her, randomly suffering periods of pressure when an aftershock hit. Sophia was very vocal, very physical, and very appreciative of her orgasms. I had to physically hold her up when this latest one had hit, as I'd spent the last twenty minutes working her up to it. I'd had a bad evening, yesterday; dad had a screaming match with the phone about something. As soon as Sophia had stepped out of the door, I'd pressed her against the brick, guided one of her hands into my jeans, and set about driving her mad. Even now, she was still stroking at me pathetically, barely putting effort into it, and I was less than happy with that after the convulsions I'd sent her into.

"Why.. Do you.. Call me... That...?" Sophia had to wheeze out each word between breathes. She barely had enough strength to stand, let alone try and please me, so she had to distract me. I wasn't pleased, but I allowed it.

"Isn't it obvious, Kitten? It's because you're mine." Her eyes snap open at that, and she makes a weak attempt to push me off.

"Fuck you! I don't belong... To anybody...!" That gets a chuckle out of me. This was coming from the girl you currently had at your complete mercy?

"Face the facts, Kitten. You do belong to me. You spend half the day trailing after me, and as soon as we're away from everyone you come up and attack me with your cute, fluffy little paws and ask me to play. Then, when I tire you out, you sit here in a puddle and try to get your breath back. You aren't going to leave, Kitten, and even if you tried, I'd just hunt you down and bring you back."

Astonishingly enough, it's the truth. I've actually become fond of Sophia. When she isn't tempting me into doing sinful things to her body, she generally acts like a decent human being. She follows me between classes, makes jokes that aren't aimed solely at insulting me, and isn't bad to have around. Sometimes I have to 'correct' her crueler observations about predators and prey-that weird viewpoint I haven't been able to screw out of her, yet-but I've honestly, genuinely become fond of having her around. If she stopped, I'd actually be sad, and try to get her to start again. Then I'd 'punish' her for trying to leave, of course.

Isn't that weird to contemplate?

Meanwhile, Sophia has frozen, and is currently staring off into space beyond my shoulder. Perhaps that little speech was too much for her—

And then she punches me in the gut.

It isn't strong enough to do more than elicit a startled wheeze from me, but the fact that she did it at all is annoying. I thought I'd trained her out of that— are those tears?

"Don't fucking lie to me! Nobody cares enough to, to... You don't... I can't..." She's struggling to wipe away the moisture falling from her eyes, and I have no idea how to react to this. So I fall back on what's worked so far, and mash my lips into hers. She flinches, before making a weak attempt to bite my tongue off that terminates when I pick up the pace of my stroking. She's still so sensitive from her earlier orgasm that it's the work of moments to push her into a moaning fit. Moments before she reaches the peak-I've gained enough experience to see all the warning signs— I pull back.

"You. Belong. To. Me." I practically growl the words into her ear, just as she hits the edge and screams her release. I don't slow down— in fact, I pick up the speed. I only stop when she finally regains enough breathe to wheeze out something that sounds like a 'please..'

"You aren't going anywhere, Sophia. I won't let you." And that calm statement is all it takes to break her down completely. She spends the next few minutes clutching me and sobbing into my shoulder, while I pat her on the back and desperately try to ignore the fact that I still have her hooked on my fingers while I reassure her. By the time she's done, my shirt is wet, and my ribs hurt from her 'hug.'

She pulls back, and wipes her eyes so an arm, sniffing. She pushes my fingers out of her— taking a moment to give them the now-customary cleaning— and pulls up her pants. She spends a moment re-arranging her bra and shirt, and when she's done stalling, she looks up at me with with a glare.

It's ruined by the fact that her eyes are still rimmed with red.

"You don't tell anyone about this. Got it?" I nod, before leaning forward to kiss her once more. It looks like I'll be going without, today, but the cry session had just about killed any build-up I'd had anyway.

Instead, I end up kissing brick as Sophia drops to the ground.

I look at the wall in shock for a moment, before I feel the tug against my un-zippered jeans. As they drop to the ground, alongside my underwear, my wide-eyed stare transfers from the wall to Sophia kneeling before me. She's staring right back up at me with narrowed eyes.

"I'm nobody's bitch, Tiger. I won't be doing this for you often, so don't get used to it!"

Then again, maybe not all of my desire is gone. As Sophia's tongue reaches out and slides up the center of my slit, I brace myself against the wall and raise my head in prayer for the patience to deal with emotional track-stars.


* * *

Sophia goes down on me the next day as well.


* * *

Sophia didn't comment on her breakdown. In fact, she seemed even more aggressive afterwards— she started trying to fight back when I pinned her once again, and actually drew blood once or twice.

Despite that... I felt more comfortable around her. Just knowing that she had more emotional states than 'horny' and 'insulting others' made her more of a person to me. And knowing that she had her own issues beyond her little classification system went a long way towards softening the effects of her bullying campaign. It certainly didn't excuse her, but I could understand the why a bit better now.

Still, her little rebellion didn't last long. Less than three days later, I was already sick of her attitude. The snarky comments and scratches annoyed me, and after one long evening messing around with spider silk that ran a little too late, I was tired and cranky.

Obviously, this meant that Sophia saw weakness and decided that it needed to be attacked.


* * *

"Come on, Hebert. Get something tastier for lunch! Stupid sandwiches can't keep ya going all the time."

I was currently in the middle of raising said sandwich to my mouth. I nearly flinched— Sophia had always given me time to eat before she showed up for our afternoon sessions, and appearing on the roof half a minute behind me was unexpected. The near-flinch was caught by Sophia, and her ever-present smirk only widened. It took a large amount of willpower to restrain myself. Instead, I returned my gaze to my food, and took a bite— only to have the sandwich snatched out of my hand.

"Wha-Hey!" My instinctive protest fell upon uncaring ears, as Sophia danced backwards with both my sandwich and my lunch bag. She'd taken my food! And she didn't seem likely to just give it back, either.

"I'm not playing games today, Kitten. Give me my stuff!" I levered myself up to my feet, stepping towards Sophia as threateningly as I could. She took a step backwards for every forward step of mine, and before long I was outright chasing her. If her laughter was any indication, she was enjoying this— she might've been a track star, but size matters, and my legs were longer than hers. Up on the roof, she had nowhere to run, and my long stride let me keep up with her easily. She barely dodged my grasp each time. And while she seemed amused, I was less than pleased.

As this continued on, a plan unfolded in the back of my head. I had passed out late last night, after experimenting with spider ropes. Waking up late meant that I didn't even have time to change clothes before I had to rush to school— and several of my pockets contained different sizes and lengths of silk cord.

Actually catching her took some preparation, but soon enough I had her trapped against a radiator. Wrestling my food from her took little effort— Sophia wasn't hanging on very hard. She seemed almost.... Giddy. I barely had time to catch my breath before she was kissing me, pressing up against my chest, and generally trying to molest me as best as she could. What had gotten her into this mood? Either way, it fit my plan.

"I didn't enjoy that, Kitten." I gently take her wrists into one hand, while I slip the other into a pocket. Sophia is almost licking at my jaw in anticipation, and actually assists me in holding her limbs together. That only makes it easier for me.

"Come-on, Tiger! I'm gonna strip you down and make you scream for once...." She's really eager. It almost makes me feel guilty for what I'm about to do.

But not really.

A burst of movement has her hands tied behind her back. I drop to the floor, and drag confused Sophia with me. A little bit of positioning, and she's laid out across my lap, back down. By this time she's regained her wits, and is testing her bonds.

"Silk, Tiger? Well, I didn't think-" I ignore her, quickly and efficiently pulling off her clothes. Her shirt goes up to her neck, her bra is unsnapped and pulled off, and her pants fly into the air behind me. Once I reach the panties, I notice a rather large wet spot-she's this excited already? Obviously, being tied up does things to her.

Still, I have a better use for that piece of cloth. Another moment has her devoid of any lower covering, and then I take the panties and shove them into Sophia's mouth.

"You're going to be quiet today, Kitten. I'm going to eat my lunch— and I'm going to do it off the handy little table I have in front of me."

And I proceed to do just that. Sophia actually stares in disbelief as I place my lunchbox on her nicely toned stomach, and actually attempts to make a muffled protest when I begin eating my sandwich rather than tending to her.

I'm not actually that cruel, of course. After a moment, I give in, and reach down with one hand while eating with the other. I start off slow, rubbing and pressing softly, before actually pressing inwards— I fall into a pattern, pushing in, gently rubbing against her walls with the tips of my fingers before pulling out, rubbing her clit in time with my exit. It's more than enough to set Sophia moaning into her cloth gag, and soon enough she's trembling—

At which point I promptly stop. Sophia whimpers. She opens her eyes to stare at me pleadingly— and I begin again. Resuming my earlier rocking motions, Sophia starts shivering once more-only for me to stop. His time I hear muffled words— they're too quiet to be understandable, but I'm fairly certain they were curses.

"You're being a bad table, Kitten. Good tables don't twitch and ruin my food. Will you stop twitching?" I mock-scold her, even as she frantically nods I answer to my question. Of course, it isn't that easy for poor Sophia. I've said it before, but she's very enthusiastic about her orgasms, and the pleasure leading up to them. At some point, even as she does her best to remain still, the pleasure overcomes her and her body starts bucking— only for me to quit stroking her. By the time I'm finished with my lunch, there's a puddle beneath her that's seeped into my pants leg and her eyes are almost crossed with need.

Snapping shut my lunchbox, I brush the crumbs off of Sophia with quick, short gestures. Even those small touches are enough to set her whimpering. Once my 'table' is sufficiently clean, I set about withdrawing my fingers.

It isn't as easy as it sounds. She's clenched around them hard enough that any too-fast movement will set her off. I have to pull them out slowly, inch by inch, while Sophia whines with desire.

For a moment, I simply sit and admire the lean, powerfully built girl I have in my lap. She's begging me with her eyes, and I have no doubt that if she had her mouth free she'd be begging me with that as well. Her entire body shines with sweat, practically glistening in the afternoon sun. Juices trail down her thighs and pools beneath her raised bottom, with enough volume to reach my legs.

Yeah, I'm never letting this go.

Reaching forward, I pull the wadded set of panties from Sophia's mouth.

"Please! Oh god, oh Jesus, fuck me into the ground, shove your fingers into my pussy so hard I can't walk, make me scream, Tiger! Please! PleasepleasepleasePLEASE!"

I nearly had an orgasm right there. The way she begged, it was giving me the best set of chills possible.

"Hush, Kitten, I won't leave you unattended. After all, what good meal is complete without desert?"

With that comment, I twist Sophia. While she had been sprawled across my lap sideways, with her head and legs hanging off the sides, she was now facing me. With a bit of dexterity, her shoulders were now on my knees, and her legs were hooked over my shoulders. She understood the position immediately, and let out and excited series of 'Yes!'s before I shushed her once more.

This time, I made sure to stare into her eyes as I slowly lifted her hips with my hands. Even as her back arched, and her neck had to bend further and further, Sophia kept her gaze focused on me.

It was only when I blew gently on her wet slit that she threw back her head and moaned. We were both more than ready at that point, so I moved forwards.

I started out with licks, the entire flat of my tongue running up her folds from top to bottom, with a little flick at the end to stimulate her button. I moved slowly, both to keep Sophia from cumming too early and to contemplate my first try at cunnilingus.

It wasn't bad, but it wasn't exactly tasting good. I compared it mostly to 'flavored' water. You could tell that it had a distinct taste, but it was still just water, and very unlikely to disgust your tongue. I was particularly glad for the inoffensive taste, because there was a lot of it. I knew Sophia leaked like a rusty faucet, as I'd actually had to throw away several outfits that had been stained beyond all hope of washing, but I didn't really comprehend how much until I was drinking it down. Given fifteen seconds, Sophia could make a small pool in my mouth— and this was with part of it ending up on my chin, in spite of my best efforts. With my new close-up view of her pussy, I noticed small things that I had missed or simply hadn't cared about while I only had a hand down here. For one, her clit wasn't really hooded. It was a very clear, small pearl of flesh, topping her slit and glimmering proudly. It was also causing Sophia to shudder every time my tongue brushed it.

After a bit of fun, I pulled back and let Sophia recover somewhat. She wasn't exactly pleased with this. Her legs attempted to pull me in, but a quick smack to her bare ass stopped that quickly enough. Fortunately for her, it wasn't my plan to leave her hanging much longer.

This time I dived in with abandon. I skipped over the licking and went straight to penetration. Which... Was weird.

Sophia made it feel easier than it actually was. While she was very, very appreciative of my efforts, pushing inwards with my very soft, very squishy appendage meant that her contractions actually squeezed my tongue outside of her. She seemed to enjoy it though, so I continued on and within seconds her legs gripped my skull, her body seized up, and she shrieked loud enough to wake the dead.

That would startle some students.

Still, Sophia was loud enough, often enough, that nine-tenths of the school had connected the dots. In an amusing twist of the original 'ignore the entire situation' hey had transferred their blind spots to my sex life. Nobody make comments in the hallways, even when I was sure that both myself, Sophia, and anyone who might take offense was out of earshot. A rare funny side effect was the looks I got— almost no-one was able to meet my eyes for long without blushing and dropping their gaze. Boys had to hastily re-arrange pants whenever I came into view with even slightly disheveled clothes, and at least half of the school population looked outright lecherous when I returned from lunch each day. I was sure we'd been caught more than once, either from accidental intrusions or perverts actively trying to hunt us down, but switching the meeting spot every day cut down on that.

A couple of times I was completely aware that I given someone a show. I could always find out which student it was by finding the one that fidgeted whenever I so much as glanced in their general direction.

Ah, Sophia was done. Her legs had finally relaxed their death grip on my skull, her twitching had died down, and she was panting rather than shrieking. I gave her a couple more licks before I gently unhooked her legs and laid her on the ground. I let her rest for a moment while I caught my breath. Then I moved onto the next important piece of our trysts— my pleasure. I help her sit up, and soon enough she's on her knees. I get to my feet. Were right in front of the radiator, and she's right at the best level for certain.... Things. Which gives me a very nice idea.

"You did badly, Kitten, you squirmed too much to be a good table and you almost suffocated me. How should I punish you? Should I just leave you here?" Sophia is shaking her head, unable to get enough air in to reply verbally through her gasps.

"Well, then, I know what you can do to make up for your mistake. Will you do it, Kitten?" She's nodding hard enough to hurt her neck, and I'm pretty darn eager as well. I unzip my pants, and drop them to the ground, revealing to my currently captive audience that all in wearing beneath is a small, silk thing barely worthy of the name of underwear. That, I take off much more slowly, enjoying the way that Sophia's eyes follow it down my legs before snapping back up to my hairless mound, sitting not six inches from her face.

She knows what to do from here.

She leans forward, and I throw back my head in ecstasy. She's much more skilled at this than I am. Her tongue darts in and out, switching between pointed licks and flicks and pushing into me before writhing. It's torture, and my hands find their way into Sophia's hair. At first, they just stroke her head, but as she works me towards the end, I end up gripping more than brushing.

And then I hit my peak, and the gripping becomes an outright pull. I'm smashing my pussy into her lips, almost riding her face, and she's not slowing in the slightest. I rock her head against me, pressing against her tongue harder than I should, and outright soaking Sophia's face in liquid.

By the time I'm done, I'm gently rubbing her lips along my flesh with my tangled grip in her hair. Looking down reveals that Sophia has an almost glazed look to her jaw, reminding me of sugared donuts. Sophia herself has closed eyes and is breathing heavily, making up for the limited air she must've had when I was smashing her into my pelvis.

I back away. As I slowly clean with the tissues I now carry everywhere as a matter of practicality, I leave Sophia kneeling there in nothing but a scrunched-up t-shirt, chest thrust outward, bare to the world with her hands tied behind her back. Her head is still in the position I left it, upraised and slightly bent forward.

At the moment, she was the most beautiful piece of art I'd ever seen.

I'd definitely have to carry around more ropes.


* * *

It isn't all fun and games, however. At this point, my (base) costume is finally finished, and I have rough plans to go patrolling in a week or two. Enough time to weave some beetle shells into the outermost layer for a combination of more protection in the form of easily shattered plates that would take a whole lot of damage for me, even if they were good for maybe two hits, and actually covering up. Spider silk is a little bit too form-fitting, even when I leave enough slack to avoid the super-cameltoe. I don't need my nipples on display with every cold breeze.

Still, I had started on the robes that I hoped to eventually turn into my back-up 'heavy duty' protection suit, and had wasted more silk on clothes than I could handle. I couldn't actually wear any of my creations, as a teenager wearing spider-silk clothes is so obviously connected to the new hero in a spider-silk bodysuit with insect control powers I'd legitimately have to be an idiot to try. Even the underwear and rope was pushing it— but those only got exposed to Sophia, and she probably thought they were just regular silk. Still, I had wasted enough time.

The thought of a patrol actually made me nervous, but it made me excited as well. I'd be cleaning up the streets, building up a reputation, and acting like a real hero!

What could go wrong?


* * *

Sophia calmed down after our little session on the roof. I, of course, ended up bringing more ropes to school. The spider silk was ridiculously tough, even at a tiny thickness. I could pack a good couple of feet into a few inches, with a bit of coiling. It became a staple of our afternoon trysts— three days out of four, I had her tied up. Sometimes it was simply with her arms behind her back, sometimes I had her almost completely immobile.

It was incredibly arousing, having Sophia at my mercy. It wasn't just pleasure keeping her weak— she literally couldn't resist. The fact that she enjoyed it too just made it better.

We'd been at school together for about three months now. Over that time, a lot had happened. At school, aside from the little... Situation with Emma, we hadn't had any problems. No one messed with us, no one commented on our frequent, loud sex, and no-one approached me more than once after I shooed them away the first time.

On the cape side of things, it wasn't so good. My very first night out, I'd ended up finding Lung, of all people. I was going to leave, but some of the comments he made... I would not, would never, stand aside and let a child die. So I went all-out.

I had heard that Lung had a healing factor. I hadn't thought about how it worked, or if it might've been weaker when he wasn't transformed. As a result, he was now missing two limbs due to necrosis and was in a coma, under lock and key. Panacea had halted the necrosis and restarted his heart, but she couldn't touch brains and couldn't replace limbs. They were awaiting his awakening to transport him to the birdcage, as Panacea was able to tell the authorities that excess agitation could worsen the minor amount of brain damage he now had, potentially leading to rapid moods swings and overwhelming anger. If he woke up in the middle of transport, incredibly angry, away from his 'home base'...

So they kept him on life support with an armed guard. Lung disappearing from the scene had stirred up all kinds of trouble. The previously quiet E88 were pushing for territory, the ABB was pushing back with fancy Tinker bombs from an unknown source, the Merchants were selling drugs to everyone, and the Undersiders were laying low in hopes of not becoming bait for the big guys.

I knew the last personally. Soon after I put down Lung and finished hitting every thug involved with an epipen, the Undersiders had shown up. I hadn't researched enough to know they were villains, and had a nice chat with them about the consequences of my actions. Or rather, had a nice chat with Tattletale about the consequences of my actions. Then they thanked me for saving their butts, as they were the ones he was after, said 'by the way, we're villains' and skedaddled.

It fucked with my world-view something fierce. Villains were old, evil men in costumes who stole from children and murdered people. Not teenagers. Especially not teenagers in danger of being outright killed just because they stole from a casino.

Even more interestingly, Tattletale sought me out afterwards. She sent me a message, met me in a park, and handed over five-thousand in cash.

Then we had a nice, long chat about cape rules and super villainy in general. Aside from one minor Situation, Tattletale was surprisingly nice to hang around with. It'd been a while since I could just talk with someone besides Sophia, even if it was about the difficulties of wearing form-fitting full body suits without showing off certain attributes to anyone who looked. It turns out that there were pads for just that sort of problem. That meeting was followed by another invitation a week later, to eat at Fugly Bob's. I was curious enough about how she would get around the 'known villain' aspect, and agreed.

She cheated by wearing a different costume. She threw on a blue-black domino mask, painted her hair blue, and came in a blue-highlight Japanese Sailor uniform. It was something I'd have done, in her situation. I just went in my newly finished Invinci-cloak, reveling in the feeling of being outright immune to anything below a high-grade rifle in penetration power. I didn't enjoy the heat nearly as much— I had the intelligence to realize that the swathes of silk would heat up, especially as I had died them black, and went naked underneath. When we finally left, after an hour of talking about inconsequential things, Tattletale noticed I was sweating underneath the folds with her bullshit-power and we headed off to the shade, cool and privacy of the Boat Graveyard.

After we got there, Tattletale surprised the hell out of me— she pulled off her mask. After a bit of shock and questioning, she revealed her name as Lisa and a bit of her background. Forcibly recruited by Coil, the issues of her teammates, and the plan Coil had for playing the gangs off each other and taking over the city after they decimated one another.

I wanted to know why she thought she could trust me with this. She laughed and pointed out her super-intuition once again— I wouldn't turn over a bunch of kids to the PRT when the group consisted of a sociopath desperately trying to find things to give him emotion, a girl who was so badly fucked over by her life and her trigger that she could barely live in society, a guy just trying to save his sister from their mother, and a girl who had a metaphorical— and sometimes literal— gun held to her head.

Especially when I held the key to getting them out of crime.

Apparently, my silk clothes would be worth a lot. Not just as body armor, but as actual clothing— with a skilled designer, people would pay out the nose for genuine spider silk dresses and suits. And with me as the only source... Lisa guaranteed that with her power backing me up, I'd be wealthy enough to outright buy the entirety of Brockton Bay within a couple of years, and more than enough to afford the cost of a 'private security team' within a few months. That the 'team' just so happened to consist of teenage Parahumans remarkably like the retired Undersiders was a complete coincidence, of course.

It was when she casually pointed out how I hadn't even thought of using the secluded location to capture her that I gave in. Two conversations about cape business and morals and she had me pegged. Lisa was scary.

I also really wanted that money. Enough to buy Brockton Bay was more than enough to infuse the economy and clear the docks.

My dad would live to see his dream come true.

So I made a deal. I helped her take down Coil, she'd help me get rich and save the Undersiders. She had been determined to put the bastard into jail herself, but with the recent upheaval Coil had been forced to show his hand much faster than he'd like. And Tattletale had gleaned something from that.

Coil was working from inside the PRT. He had to be fairly high up in the system to have access to all the information he was using— and Tattletale narrowed down the list of possible candidates each day. When the time came, I'd assault his underground base with the help of the Undersiders (hired by their secret Boss— or so Lisa would say) and hold him while Lisa released his identity to the public.

I was wary of going up against an unknown parahuman, but whatever his powers were, they weren't suited for direct battle. He just seemed to always make good choices— if there were multiple options for something, more often than not he'd go with one that somehow ended well. I was her ace in the hole— Coil had no knowledge of me, and would be completely blindsided when I worked with the Undersiders to capture him.

We'd hand him over to the Guild, avoiding any loyal employees Coil mig have in the PRT, and let them hang on to him.

And then the 'mysterious Boss' would retire, letting me grab the Undersiders for my own.

Overall. It was a solid plan. One that had a very good possibility of working, and would give me the chance to solve the cities problems, both through turning some Villains into Heroes (because I was not going to just sit on my but and make silk. I was going to be a Hero, darn it, even if I had to drag my 'security team' around with me!) and by drawing attention and more PRT focus to the revival I would offer the town via a cash influx.

I could imagine that future. I wanted it. So I gave in.

And now I'm allied to a Villain group, even if the group itself doesn't know yet.

Planning and talking with Lisa, who knew me as Taylor once I decided to unmask in the Boat Graveyard (which led to another Situation), took up attention. Attention that Sophia noticed the lack of. She was starting to act up again, and I had an idea to settle her down.

It was going to be fun.


* * *

It was Friday, and Sophia's reaction when I told her that she was to come to my house at five after school was fairly amusing. She simply stood there, blinking, while I nonchalantly continued down the hallway. I had timed it carefully, despite my facade. I reached the correct classroom just as the bell rang, leaving Sophia no time to speak to me. I avoided her during the breaks between each class, slipping by her in the halls. When the bell rang for lunch, for the first time in months, I actually hid from Sophia. I didn't pass her a note, or guide her to my carefully chosen destination.

On my way towards my fifth hour, I passed Sophia in the hallway. She looked... Lost. Like she had suddenly been dumped into a desert, with no map and no water.

I ducked down and walked by.

It probably looked horrible from an outside perspective, but I wasn't doing it to be cruel. I had an entirely different reason— one I was almost ashamed of.

I was nervous.

Just thinking about this weekend made my gut twist. While my relationship with Sophia wasn't exactly smooth sailing, what I was about to do was the equivalent of throwing away the guide and charting new waters. Waters that were potentially full of sea monsters.

While we hadn't had the most conventional start, we had settled into a nice rhythm, a stable routine. We fucked, we talked, we made jokes, we fucked, we complained about homework, we fucked, and we then we fucked some more. Before school, after school, and of course, the now-traditional lunch session. But all of that happened here, at the school, or in the occasional park, or even out by the beach on one memorable occasion. Not once did Sophia offer to have me visit her at her home. After the meeting that had started it all, Sophia didn't come to my house. It seemed like an unspoken agreement. We didn't mention, ask about or bring up the other's home life. Our time at school was just that— our time.

My invitation threw all of that out the window, and I was planning something even worse. I was practically sick with anticipation.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur as I lost myself to my fears. What if she got upset? What if she decided not to come by at all? Would she pretend it had never happened, or would she confront me about it? Worst of all, what if she—

The final bell rang, and I was out of my desk like a shot from a cannon. I rushed towards the front doors, out into the fresh air, and made it home in record time. I checked behind me every block, desperately hoping not to see Sophia chasing after me— bugs covered the blocks beyond those. There was no-one around.

I wasn't sure if I was relieved or terrified.

When I made it home, I frantically went over my preparations time and time again. Dad hadn't changed his plans, he was spending the night at a friends house in celebration of something-or-other. All of the spiders had been moved out— they were temporarily stored in the abandoned house three blocks down. The silk clothing had been packed into boxes and stored with the spiders, and finally The Chair-it deserved emphasis, after all the orgasms and soaking it had endured-was stored with them. My notebooks about superhero-ing had been carefully put away, I had given the house a cursory wipe-down, I had even changed my sheets! As the time ticked down towards five, I checked and rechecked everything. When I finished, sure that Sophia would knock on the door any minute, I rushed towards the entrance— only to catch a glimpse of the clock.

It was only four twenty.

This night would be the end of me.


* * *

At five o'clock exactly, Sophia knocked on the door. I very nearly sprinted to answer. It took a lot of self-control to stop, take a deep breath, and walk there. Opening the door, I took in the sight of Sophia— she had changed clothes. Her school outfit had simply been a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with only a sweat-shirt tied around her waist as an acknowledgment of the cold. Now, she had a pair of slightly scuffed black slacks on, along with a long-sleeved shirt. She fidgeted as I drank in the sight of her, the conflicting feelings within me only increasing. Once I had them under something that might approach control on a good day, I stepped to the side.

"Please, come in. Feel free to make yourself at home." Sophia stepped inside, and her eyes gave the room a cursory once-over before returning to me. I closed the door, then silently headed towards the kitchen/dining room, as it was the only room in the house that had hard chairs. I didn't think I could sit on the sofa without collapsing into the cushions. Sophia followed closely behind me, not pausing in her steps so much as once.

I pulled out a chair for her, and gestured for her to sit. She took it silently, and her head followed me as I circled the table to sit across from her.

"Can I get you something to drink? Water, juice...?" She shook her head. I was starting to feel even more uncomfortable as her eyes refused to focus anywhere but my face. I paused for a moment, searching for the right words. Now that I was actually here, in the moment, my carefully rehearsed speech fled from my mind, and I was drawing a blank. One moment became two, two became three.

"Get it over with."

"What?"

I could barely hear her— right before she spoke, she had dropped her gaze to the table. The words came out mumbled. She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, then jumped up and leaned across the table to shove her suddenly angry visage into my face!

"I said, spit it out! Tell me we're done! Tell me how you found someone else, and how she's so much better than me, and how it's my fault for moping around because my dad-!" Suddenly, the rage seemed to melt from her face, and she collapsed back into the chair. Her hands come up to her face, and she finished her sentence in a quiet, tired voice.

"....Just end it. Just, just, stop it and let me leave."

I sit there in shocked silence for several long, long seconds before her meaning fully penetrates. Then I'm standing up so quickly my chair falls behind me with a bang, and Sophia jerks her head up to stare at me. I take long steps, and in moments I'm around the table. I kneel in one quick, smooth motion. Sophia is staring wide-eyed at me, almost a foot below her in my lowered position. I gently reach forward, capturing her wrists in an automatic, smooth grip, trained from weeks of practice, and with the other hand I reach out to rest a palm on her cheek.

"I am not leaving you, Sophia." My voice is firm, all of my earlier hesitation gone, only left with a cold kind of horror that she would expect this from me— and a great, burning desire to show her how wrong she was.

"I told you before. I'm not letting you go, even if I have to tie you down to keep you."

"Sophia Hess. Kitten. Will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?"

The question hangs in the air, and Sophia just— sits there. Silent. Still.

And then she begins to cry.

I brace myself just in time, as she throws herself forward, smashing her face into my chest. We end up sprawled on my back across the floor, and Sophia clutches the front of my shirt as she sobs. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, and just hug her, making small, soothing noises.

Time passes. Slowly, her crying comes to an end. She stays there, with her face pressed against my meager breasts, for what feels like an eternity.

"...Yes."

I could barely hear her whisper.

"What was that, Kitten?"

"I said yes! I'll be your stupid girlfriend, Hebert!"

Her belligerence makes me chuckle. Trying to save face after crying yourself out? How very like you, Kitten.

I reach downwards, and slowly pull her face upwards by her chin. Her eyes are red, and there are obvious tear tracks in the small amount of makeup she wears. Her nose has been running, and her entire face is slightly swollen and red. I pull her up towards me with my remaining arm around her back, and bring my face down to meet hers.

She tastes like salt.

I don't mind.


* * *

We sit there a moment longer, enjoying the kiss. Eventually it has to end, and I pull back, eliciting a small whimper from Kitten. I try to stand us up— she protests by refusing to release her hold and digging her face back into my chest. I chuckle.

"Come on, Kitten. I did have plans for the rest of the evening. Don't you want to know what they are?" Sophia gives in reluctantly, slowly loosening her grip. I patiently wait, and when she's done, I stand up, offering her a hand to her feet. She takes it, and I pull her up with a bit of a grunt. Kitten has a lot more muscle than me, but she chooses to give me a mock-dirty look. She can't hold it long, and it breaks into a tiny smile.

Kitten is my girlfriend now.

It really hits me at that moment. Sophia agreed! She really said yes!

It takes far too much self-control to keep from kissing her. So I kiss her anyway.

When I pull back, I have the goofiest grin on my face. Kitten's little smile has widened as well. It takes a moment of stupidly smirking at her before I remember my plans.

The rest of the evening passes by in a flash. I had picked out a nice restaurant, made reservations, taken the time to hunt down a nice set of clothes that aren't the obvious spider silk.

Instead, we go out to Fugly Bobs and eat sandwichs. We joke around, and we laugh, and we have too much fun— we end up disturbing some of the other patrons, especially when we kiss just a little too much too often. One particular redhead has trouble shutting his gaping mouth— Sophia seemed to attract his attention more than I did. Maybe he had a thing for shorter, black girls?

Then we're headed towards my home. As soon as the door is shut, I turn to receive a flying Kitten to the lips.

Kissing is nice.

After a moment for breath, I kiss her again— harder this time. Some of my intent must've leaked through, because she moans as she kisses me back.

I lead her up the stairs, pulling her behind me until we reach my room. Then I toss her onto the bed.

In an instant, I'm on top of her, feeling her around the outside of her clothes. My hands slide over her breasts, lead down to her thighs, stroke gently and come back up to slide under her shirt. It's gone before I know it, and I'm pushing aside her bra, going straight to her nipples, plucking them gently before I bend forward to take one into my mouth and suck. Kitten's hands come up to grip at my hair— I restrain them with my free hand, take the roll of silk I had on my bedside table for just this, and briskly tie them together.

Pulling back, I stare down at the panting girl beneath me. Her arms encircle her breasts, pushing them together and putting them further on display. Her wrists are tied neatly above the zipper of her pants.

This time, when I lean in to bite at the unattended nipple, I head for her pants with my hands. Within seconds, the zipper is down and her clothing has been pushed away. I have a hand rubbing against her, once, twice— before I thrust inwards, pumping with my fingers. I use my other hand to twist the unattended nipple, and kitten arches her back with a gasp. I'm far too impatient to do this for long, however. I take a moment longer p, then pull back to remove her clothing completely.

I stand there, looking at the slightly sweating nude girl on my bed, hands tied together. She looks back at me with lust.

I'm one of the luckiest people on earth.

I stride towards the closet, and fetch a rather special box. Reaching inside, I pull out two things, and when a I turn towards kitten, her eyes widen. I have a middling sized, featureless black strap-on in one hand, and lube in the other.

I've practiced— and although I mess up slightly due to my eagerness, the strap-on is snapped into place and the lube poured onto it in two minutes. Strolling forward, I enjoy the look of anticipation in Kitten's eyes. Kneeling on the bed, I twist, before leaning forward to loom over Sophia. Keeping my eyes locked on hers, I reach down with one hand, balancing on the other. Guiding the rod, I gently rub against her lips for a moment, eliciting a whine. I slowly, ever so slowly, press forward, and the fake dick slides into Sophia with barely any resistance. I stop an inch in, enjoying the way Kitten snaps open her pleasure-closed eyes to glare at me— and just as she opens her mouth to make a complaint, I thrust inwards.

Kitten takes the rest of the dildo as smoothly as she did the first. I sink in easily, taking it all the way to the hilt on the first try. Sophia's eyes roll into the back of her head as her aborted protest transforms into a breathy squeak. I give her only a second to adjust— then I start pounding. I pull out until only the tip remains in, then spear forward with my weight. Each push brings about a small slapping sound as my flesh meets Kitten's, and her entire body bounces with the force of my strikes. It's not even half a minute before she starts to scream in earnest, announcing her orgasm to the world as usual. I cut her off with a kiss, strangling the sounds inside her mouth. I don't slow— even as she clenches around the dildo hard enough to actually impede my thrusts, I simply add more force. As her trembling peaks, I break off the kiss and lower my mouth to bite down on a nipple. The formerly muffled shrieks nearly double in volume, and she convulses around the strap-on until her breath runs out.

When her thrashing begins to subside, I finally begin to slow, eventually pulling out entirely. Kitten lays there with an exhausted look— her eyes refuse to focus on any one thing, and her mouth is open as she pants like a dog. That suits my purposes just fine.

Climbing off the bed, I move to the head and pull Sophia towards me. She hangs on the edge of the bed, head facing towards my crotch. A fact I quickly take advantage of. Her eyes clear quickly when I begin fucking her face, driving the dildo in and out with short, quirk jerks. Each time I increase the depth a little further, until Sophia finally gags on the plastic. I back off a little, then being banging her mouth in earnest. Sophia plays along, sucking and moaning around the shaft. Still, this isn't very pleasurable for either of us, so I quickly return to my earlier activity. This time, there is no wait period. I just slam my hips into Kitten's with as much force as I can muster, and begin driving her towards orgasm once more.


* * *

Hours later, I lay in bed next to a Kitten. We're both sweat-soaked, naked, and exhausted with pleasure. I still have the now-glazed dildo attached to me at the hips, standing proudly in the air. I can't be bothered to take it off.

Just as I'm falling asleep, I feel shifting. Kitten is cuddling up to me, her back pressed against my side.

I chuckle, and I can see her shoulders tense even in the relative darkness. Moving myself, I turn to face her, throwing an arm around her while pressing forward with my hips. The dildo ends up buried between her thighs, and I idly toy with a bruised nipple as I begin to approach sleep once more. Her muscles relax, unable to remain tense after I fucked all of her energy out of her.

"...ve you, Taylor."

My eyes drift shut.

Porn Logic

(Автор: Mr_John)

Sometimes, having powers was annoying.

I did my best to ignore the ongoing orgy around me as I read the assigned chapter. Luckily, the teacher had actually gotten around to assigning a chapter before the situation devolved into shouting, declarations of love, and sex.

Sex everywhere.

A flung pair of panties hit my head, and I pulled them off with a sigh.

Such was the life of Taylor Hebert, the girl who changed the very laws of physics and the deeply ingrained instincts of society with naught but my presence.

A flailing leg kicked my book off my desk. I restrained the urge to kick the owner of said leg back.

Running on Porn Logic sucked.

Another screamer had an orgasm, and I clenched my teeth in agitation. My hand inched towards my pants. Nobody would notice. Even if they did, they wouldn't care. It would be so easy. Damn power...

"I'm cumming! I'm cumming from my ass!" Aaaaaand there went the mood. Thank you, Sakura. Your poor language skills always appear at the right time. Oddly enough, she had perfectly good grammar outside my range.

Still, what would it take to get some satisfaction?

Another couple without a care in the world (and an equal lack of clothes) fell onto my desk, scattering my stuff everywhere. For a moment I simply stared at the completely oblivious pair rutting right in front of me.

Then I sighed. Screw it.

The hand went back towards the pants.


* * *

Sorry, guys, no real updates tonight. Work called, and my previously free evening went down the drain. Enjoy this snippet in the meantime!

Based on an idea from earlier in the thread. Taylor is a shaker/master, and people within her range slowly fall prey to Porn Logic. More exposure means more porn logic, until, as one poster put it, pizza guys are banging the women answering the door more often than actually delivering pizzas. Once people leave the zone, the effects wear off after a day or two, depending on exposure. Seeing as Taylor didn't really realize that she had the power until she watched a nurse seduce the (formerly) injured man in the bed across from her at the hospital, she didn't have any idea how the effects would stack.

As a bonus, though, nobody in a hospital porno is ever actually injured, so guess what happened to all of the patients?

The school has been exposed to her aura so much that the people who go there live almost constantly in porn logic. They bang at school. They bang after school. They bang at night. They bang before school. Ect. Of course, only the naughty over-developed school girls actually get bad grades— the rest maintain a high average.

The best part of Taylor's power, and the one that would drive this more-humorous-than-sexual (although there would be a lot of smut) story is that she can't affect herself. She doesn't live by the rules of porn logic. While this means she can think about things other than screwing, she also actually ends up hurt by blows rather than falling sexily to the ground before her attacker takes advantage of her weakness. As would happen to anyone else under her power. Even better, she doesn't actually count as a sexual object to the people within her range. She can talk with the mostly lucid ones up until her power takes over, and then they ignore her as if she were a block of wood before sexing up some other victim.

Because of this, Taylor has people constantly surrounding her in sex. She's watched more orgies, more fetishes, more intercourse than just about any other person on Earth and she can't get any.

Thus, her quest for sex. Trying to find someone who can resist long enough to fuck her into the ground without succumbing to her power, losing interest, and walking off.

And yes, Sakura is a reference to the way doujins get translated badly. 'Cumming from my ass?' Seriously?

Breakline

(Автор: Mr_John)

Amy couldn't take it anymore.

She honestly, completely could not handle it. She wasn't entirely sure what mental breakdowns were like, and wether or not she was experiencing one right now, but it seemed likely. It had been a long day. Healing at the hospital, homework, trying to get Mark up to do something, and then more healing.

Then Glory Girl, Victoria, her own personal hero, had finally picked her up.

Only to insist that she should 'unwind' with some exercise, and drag her out to the gym at twelve o'clock at night. In exchange for patronage and advertisement rights, the gym let Victoria take in anyone she wanted, at any time. She had her own personal set of keys.

Amy watched Victoria bench weights that would have given Olympic body builders trouble, run just for the sake of running, and generally work up a sweat.

Sweat that was then washed off in the showers. Where she now was.

Victoria was in the stall next to her, whistling happily. Amy, who had lifted five pound weights for all of five minutes before gazing at Victoria's sleek, shiny body as it worked, was staring at the wall and desperately ignoring the fact that Victoria was naked not five feet from her. If she gave in, even for a second...

The water cut off. Amy sighed in relief as Victoria exited her shower stall. Finally, the torture would be over— she could return home, masturbate herself into a coma, and wake up tomorrow to-oh sweet Jesus that was the sound of the shower curtain opening behind her.

Amy felt flesh brush against her back. As if to confirm her worst nightmares, the familiar profile of Victoria's body popped up in the back of her mind. The same bare body that was currently humming happily behind her, the same delightfully nude body that was gently brushing against her own with various, nice-feeling parts.

"Vic-" The first try came out squeaky beyond belief. Amy had to clear her throat several times before she lower her voice to an acceptable level.

"Victoria. Why are you in my shower?" There. Question was out. Nice and calm, don't do anything drastic, don't—

"It's because I ran out of shampoo, so I'm going to borrow yours. You'll give me some, because you're awesome, right?"

Victoria was hugging her. Victoria was hugging her. Victoria was nude, and hugging her, and she could feel her nipples sliding over her back, slick from the water.

Amy could not take it anymore.

So she carefully memorized Victoria's current biological profile, imprinted it on her sisters thigh in a incredibly, impossibly small scar, and made the modifications she'd always dreamed of making.

Victoria froze with her hands wrapped around Amy.

"Vi-Vicky?" In a flash, Victoria's hands snapped upward, each taking a grip on Amy's nipples and squeezing. She fell against the wall with a squeak that rapidly transformed into a moan.

"That's Glory Girl to you, Amy. Understand?" Victoria's voice was firm, hard, and everything Amy imagined it would be. She could feel each movement of the comparatively massive breasts smashed against her back, as the wet body against her slowly began to grind. The digits gripping Amy's nipples squeezed and rolled when she was too slow to answer.

"Y-yes! Ah, right there!" Victo-no, Glory Girl's fingers pinched down, and pulled forward, stretching out Amy's nearly non-existent breasts. She gasped in a mixture of surprise, delight, and pain, nearly collapsing forward at the rush of feelings.

"It looks like you're really enjoying this, Amy." Glory Girl released her grip on the hard points, only to open her palms and easily engulf Amy's entire chest in both hands, giving a firm squeeze as she did.

"What does that make you, Amy? What kind of girl enjoys being molested by her sister?" Her grip tightened— it left white marks on her skin, but Amy was much too excited to care. She knew this part of the script!

"A -Aah— a dirty slut! I'm a, a-ohgod-a filthy, worthless slut who who gets off on her sisters haaAAAHH!" The constant massage of her chest, along with the naughty thrill that ran through her when she called herself a slut sent Amy over the edge. The shocks running through her body made her weak, and when Glory Girl suddenly let go of her, Amy fell to the floor of the shower with a splash.

"A slut, hm? You think so? Well then, Slut, I'll have to use you like one!"

Amy felt a strong grip grab her hair and tilt her head back. As she opened her mouth to cry out, only to find her mouth filled. Glory Girl was holding Amy against her pussy with one hand, using the other to pull at her own, much larger breasts.

"Well?! Start licking, Slut! Lick your sister!" Amy shook herself out of her daze and went to work. She hadn't ever done this before, and did her best to substitute eagerness for skill. She flicked out her tongue, dragging it across Glory Girl's folds roughly, before diving straight in, pressing with as much as she could. Glory Girl threw back her head and moaned, rocking Amy's head against her slit with her hand.

It wasn't enough. Glory Girl became rougher and rougher, and soon Amy found herself simply holding her tongue out while Glory Girl rocked her head back and forth with a single hand.

"Come on, Slut! Is this the best you can do?! I wish I had something to stick down your throat— at least it would squeeze me, willing or not!"

That game Amy a wonderfully nice idea. She had been in the internet more and more often lately, due to having no friends outside of Victoria, and had found some.... Interesting things. Not the least of which was the idea of a 'futanari.' Pull muscle from here, form a pair of internal, over-productive testes there... Extend the whole creation, set it to trigger when a series of points are hit...

Amy carefully reached up, and tapped a specific set of pressure points on the inside of Glory Girl's thigh in order. Within seconds, the flesh was bulging, twisting, and soon enough, a fully formed penis was slapping Amy on the forehead with each pull of Glory Girl's hands.

"Hah.... Creative, Slut! Let me try it out!" With that comment, Glory Girl drew Amy back, used her free hand to point her new cock, and thrust straight into Amy's throat.

If it weren't for her knowledge of the human body, Amy would've choked. But the gag reflex was a automatic response like any other, and could be suppressed. Squeeze the left thumb, relax here, press down on this with her free hand... A couple seconds of misery later, the uncomfortable feeling faded away, leaving just the sensation of her sister's cock deep in her throat.

She had made the thing into a ten inch monster, wide enough that she struggled to fit it into her mouth. Glory Girl had switched both hands to Amy's head, and was gleefully pumping away. Each thrust pushed more of her tool into Amy. By the time it was halfway in, Amy could reach up and feel the point where it became visible, bulging out her neck. Just the idea of it had nearly driven her crazy when she had just been masturbating— now, when she could touch her sister's cock through the soft flesh of her throat, one hand was almost a blur as she rubbed at her pussy.

Glory Girl was reaching the midway point between the bottom of Amy's jaw and the start of her collarbone, and the lack of oxygen was beginning to darken her vision. Glory Girl pulled back far enough to allow Amy to take quick, shallow breaths with each thrust, but as she went deeper and deeper, the pauses shortened, until all Amy could get was one quick gasp of air. Then even that was gone, as the last couple of inches made it into her mouth, and Amy's nose was pushed into the neat little triangle of hair at the base of her sister's gigantic shaft. The bulge that represented the overly large cock reached the beginning of her torso, and Glory Girl only pulled back a few inches— she never left Amy's throat. With the edges of her sight disappearing into blackness, her hand moved even faster— the one on her neck squeezed, pressing down on Glory Girl from the outside, drawing another moan and a slit increase in speed from her. The inability to breath made it all so much more exciting, and she reached her climax just as the black overtook the last point of light, convulsively swallowing around her sister's dick, moaning into her crotch.

Suddenly, Glory Girl withdrew completely, leaving Amy gasping. Color swam back into view around her, and if it weren't for one of Glory Girl's hands keeping her up with a firm grip on her hair, she would've collapsed. As it was, it took several moments for her to make sense of the sight before her.

Glory Girl was stroking her penis with rough, quick jerks, her teeth clenched.

"Hah...! You... Don't get... To... Pass out... On me...! Take it!" With a roar, Glory Girl shoved forward, pushing her dick all the way into Amy's open, panting mouth, spearing her from lips to neck in one push. Then she started to spurt.

Amy had designed her sister's testes with two points in mind— infertility, and a completely absurd semen production. The second one was biting her now, as Glory Girl came almost directly into her stomach. Then she began to pull out. As Glory Girl pulled backwards, her volume of liquid failed to decrease, painting the inside of Amy's throat white with each shot. When she finally retreated from her neck entirely, Amy count suite suppress the cough— cum was pushed upwards along with the air. When Amy kept her lips firmly closed, the cum left through the only available route— her nose. A gout of semen left her, covering her upper lip and some of her sisters dick— after, a steady white stream dripped. At this point, Glory Girl had only the tip of her penis inside Amy's mouth, and was still cumming. In no time at all, she bloated Amy's cheeks, and despite her best efforts and repeated swallowing, white trails escaped the corners of her lips. As the spray finally slowed, Glory Girl pulled completely out, and painted her sisters face. The first shot caught her on the brow, and began dripping down immediately. The second draped across her nose, and the third through seventh decorated her cheeks. The final, sad little dribbles ended up on Amy's chest, running down her small amount of cleavage.

Her lungs pumping like bellows, Amy coughed hard, cum almost gushing from her mouth. Bubbles formed at the edges, making a small amount of white froth. When she could finally breathe, she looked up to catch a glimpse of her sister— only to find her staring down at Amy so an expectant grin.

She was also quickly stroking her monster cock back into firmness.

Amy shuddered with a mix of anticipation.

"How does my Slut enjoy the taste of of her sisters cum? Does she like it?" Amy shuddered— the dirty talk sent jolts of pleasure through her stomach each time.

"I loved the taste of your cum, big sister! Will you please fuck my pussy until I'm so bruised I can't walk?" Amy was desperately trying to stick to the script she had imagined so many times in her head, but it was hard enough that she skipped a few lines. She wanted that dick in her. Now.

"I suppose. Turn around, Slut, and get on your knees. You won't be able to move when I'm done!" Amy almost fell over as she switched positions, turning over so quickly her flesh squeaked on the floor. The spray of water had been turned off at some point in he middle of their fun. As a bonus, Amy was able to keep the majority of the cum on her, with only the excess slipping to the floor to splatter across the tile. Once she was on her hands and knees, she heard movement as a glory girl dropped to the floor behind her. She glanced backwards— her sister was limit herself up, one hand on Amy's hip, he other directing her penis. She pressed up against Amy's soaked slit and rubbed once, twice— and then thrust forward.

Amy wasn't a stranger to vaginal penetration. It was embarrassing as all hell to shop at a sex store, but nobody could refuse to sell her anything— she as Panacea, the healer!

Still. The largest dido she had was only barely bigger than vpGlory Girl's thickness— and it capped out at six inches. Each use left her aching for hours afterwards.

Glory Girl was much rougher than she had ever been with herself.

She pushed forward, hitting the previous record of six inches and continuing on. By the time she was done pushing, she had half an inch left outside, and the tip was pressing against Amy's cervix. The position was uncomfortable, slightly painful as never-before-used flesh stretched, and overall it sent Amy into delightful shivers. Then Glory Girl began to fuck her in earnest.

Plunging in and out, each thrust pushed Amy forward, rocking her entire body. The cock smashed into the barrier to her womb with each hit, pushing mixed signals of intense discomfort and pleasure to her brain. Glory Girl was gripping her hips with right hands, sure to leave distinct bruises later, but for now Amy was lost in ecstasy. Her sister was literally fucking her into the ground, as each pounding blow shook her arms until she couldn't take it any more and simply fell forward, leaning into the floor. The cum decorating her squished and slurped as it pooled on the tile, making a variety of sounds as Amy slid back and forth on top of it. Drool mixed with the leftover cum leaked from her mouth, mixing with the soup below her. She could hear the slapping as Glory Girl rammed against her, the sound of thighs meeting her ass and the bouncing of Glory Girl's breasts. Their moans mixed, echoing loudly in the empty room.

Within six minutes, Amy had orgasmed at least as half as many times, and a Glory Girl was approaching her own limit. One, two more thrusts— and then she was flooding her sister's womb with cum, as tightly pressed against Amy's cervix as she was. Amy felt each shot, felt it as she was filled. Soon enough, she felt full and swollen, and Glory Girl's cum leaked backwards, pouring out from the cracks between her cock and the folds of Amy's pussy.

Amy nearly came once again, just picturing the thought of a filled belly bulging out slightly, filled to the brim with Glory Girl's semen.

Pulling out, Glory Girl left Amy to collapse to the floor, pulling back to take several deep breaths. There as a period where both girls just struggled to catch their breath.

Amy stared blankly at the wall as she struggled to process thought higher than just feeling the buzz of pleasure throughout her entire body. Cum leaked like a sieve from her abused slit, running through the slight patch of hair she kept neatly trimmed before it dripped to the floor in a spreading pool. The semen she had slid in was cool, sapping heat and strength from her into the cold floor. Her entire front and one of her sheers were caked in the stuff— part of her hair was soaked in it as well. That had been beyond her wildest dreams— now she just had to modify Glory Girl back—

She was being flipped over. Why was she being flipped over? The image within her head of the body that had popped up as soon as she was touched answered the question p, but she had to see it with her own eyes.

Glory Girl was kneeling, a another erection between her legs. There wasn't any banter, no questions, just the feeling of her leaning in, placing her hands on ever side of Amy's body, and pressing insistently against Amy's ass.

She had tried anal before. It wasn't especially pleasing, but now? She was more than willing to try. A quick tweak to Glory Girl's cock set it to start leaking precum in large quantities. Within seconds, the tight ring of her ass was soaking wet. Glory Girl started to actually penetrate— and for once, she went slowly, taking her time to press in, lubricating each step as Amy struggled to relax.

But Glory Girl couldn't keep it up for long. By the time she was halfway into Amy, she was pressing more and more insistently against the soft, pliant flesh within, barely wiling to refrain from simply thrusting into Amy unrestrained.

When she finally hilted herself, she no longer had to worry about making Amy bleed by fucking unlubricated flesh.

She immediately made up for lost time by beginning to pound Amy as hard as she could, almost shaping the inside of her ass into the outline of her dick by sheer force alone. Amy was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. There was a large, large difference between having a oiled up dildo in her and a warm, thrusting cock. She could feel the heat as it radiated from her sister, and each push deposited more and more precum into the fleshy tunnel of her insides. Soon enough, Glory Girl was pressing in and out of Amy's butt as easily as she had fucked her pussy.

It was too much.

Amy was literally being fucked unconscious. Her vision was blacking out once more, and this time it was from pleasure overload. Glory Girl was showing no signs of stopping, even as Amy rapidly approached orgasm.

When she finally peaked, however, Glory Girl poured shot after shot into Amy's stomach. Somewhere between the fourth and fifth, she finally lost it.


* * *

"Man, I can't believe we fell asleep in the showers!" Victoria twirled around as she entered the Dallon house, happy to be home.

"Yeah. Lucky I woke us up early, right?" Despite her words, Amy was exhausted. She had been woken to the sound of an employee as he entered the bathrooms, and only her frantic exclamation had prevented him from seeing something... Unfortunate.

Currently, Victoria was under the impression that they'd both conked out in the showers after a big workout. Which was true, just not... Exactly how she interpreted it. Still, both of them were fairly tired, and after some scolding from Carol were ready to return to bed.

"I'm happy you came out with me. I can't remember much, but if you said we had fun, I believe it— even if I ended up like this. Night, sis!"

Even as Victoria floated off to her room, yawning, Amy smiled at her back, before yawning and heading towards her own room.

I think... I'd like to do that again some time.

Dressed to Impress

(Автор: Mr_John)

Lisa groaned.

Today was Saturday. Meeting day, where all the Undersiders got together and discussed their territories. She had overextended herself, trying to get some clues on the bastard who had been leaving rubber duckies everywhere in her office— Regent was going to fucking pay, using Imp to cheat— but she really wanted to go. She really, really wanted to go.

Taylor had convinced Panacea to join up with them while the S9 had been in town— thank god they had managed to kill them all— and had spent a lot of time around the poor girl to try and help her. One thing had led to another, and now the two were in a relationship. It was cute and everyone supported the two, but only Taylor and Lisa were aware of something the rest had missed— Panacea was a huge pervert.

For example, the last time they had been in these meetings, Panacea had been on Taylor's right, and had held Taylor's hand on her lap. Out of sight. Grue thought it was cute— Lisa thought it was hilarious the way Panacea had Taylor masturbate her in front of everyone. And she had been catching hints all week— something even bigger would go down today. Lisa had deliberately withheld her power, because she wanted it to be a surprise; she didn't get many of those, especially not funny ones like this.

So she really wanted to go. Even if her head was killing her.


* * *

Lisa was in the meeting room, sitting at the circular table. Tayor, Brian, Parian and Fletchette had shown up on time, as usual, while the others were running late. It happened regularly with Imp, Regent and Bitch, but Panacea being late was unusual.

Then Taylor snapped up in her seat, her eyes looking at something far from here.

"Skitter! Any trouble?" Brain was on top of the situation in seconds— one of the things that had made him leader material back in the day.

"N-no, everything's fine!" Taylor squeaked out. Literally squeaked— her voice was higher pitched than usual. Lisa was tempted to use her power, but yet another stabbing pain through her head as she shifted made her reconsider.

Then the door opened, and Panacea strode in. There was nothing obviously different about her— the same robes as always, and although there as a slight hitch in her stride, she was walking quickly enough. She sat next to Taylor, as usual— the newer chairs had armrests, so there couldn't be any sneaky play under the table. What was Panacea going to do? Lisa could hardly wait.


* * *

Panacea had shifted in her chair several times. Taylor was currently sweating profusely and staring at the wall while Parian went over her profit margin from her business, and how much she was willing to invest in the other's territories. Other than that, not much had happened, and Lisa was becoming insanely curious. Panacea wasn't doing anything obvious, but Taylor wasn't reacting to comments very well—

Panacea shifted in her seat slightly, and Taylor whimpered. Parian halted as everyone turned to Taylor curiously— she was blushing intensely. It took several repetitions of 'its fine, continue' before the meeting was back on track.


* * *

Panacea's robes swished slightly.

Taylor's grip tightened on her armrests.


* * *

Panacea repositioned herself with a little hop.

Taylor bit her lip.


* * *

Panacea had been bouncing in place for a while now, simply jumping up and down on her chair. Taylor, on the other hand, was flinching with each bounce. At this point, everyone in the room had caught on that something fishy was happening. Even as Brain did his best to ignore it, Panacea's bouncing sped up— only to stop with a sigh.

There was a loud snap.

Taylor was looking down at her hand in surprise, where she held the edge of her armrest— ripped off of the chair. Her eyes left the piece of wood— only to notice everyone staring at her. She blushed, hopped up, and mumbled something before rushing out of the room.

Everyone simply traded glances for a second, before Panacea rose out of her chair-only to nearly fall a moment later. She had to brace herself against the table for a moment while her legs stopped trembling.

"I-I'm going to s-see what's wrong with her." Panacea made her way to the door, wobbling with each step— each bow-legged step.

Lisa couldn't hold back anymore.

Uncomfortable to walk. Still happy. Still pleased. Robes larger-longer than usual, slightly different color. Weight difference results in different movement of robe— heavier than it looks. Pleasure is sexual-limp is from hard sex. Robe contributed. Robe is living creature. Robe is living creature Taylor can control. Bumping was rough sex, shivering with all limbs implies total body excitement.

Robe has inside made of tongues and tentacles. Panacea is nude within it. Taylor was sensing and partially controlling the licking and eventual fucking of Panacea in front of us.


* * *

Brain had no idea what was wrong with Taylor, but he hoped Amy could help her. Now he just had to figure out why Lisa was laughing manically while pausing every few seconds to say 'Ow' and clutch her head before laughing again.

Failing Relationship

(Автор: Mr_John)

"Missy, please!"

"Damnit Chris, I've told you, I will drink when I want to and you can't stop me!"

"But, but you get violent when you drink! You always threaten to hit me!"

"Have I hit you yet!?"

"No, but-"

"Then shut up or I'll hit you!"


* * *

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Out with the girls."

"And where is that?"

"Goddamnit Chris, I'm fucking going out! Why the hell does it bother you!?"

"Missy, you're always going out with the girls! You never just stay and have some time for us!"

"This is the exact reason I always to go out!"


* * *

"Please? You said you'd stay and cuddle for a while-"

"Yeah, well, that was before. I've changed my mind."

"I... I just want someone to be close to."

"Yeah, well, go see if Carlos is up for that. Oh wait, you can't, he's dead!"

"Missy!"


* * *

"I just don't know what to do, she won't stop ignoring me! I've tried to talk to her, and I even made a lasagna dinner for her!"

"Kid Win, how will this discussion lead to the .7% increase in efficiency you spoke of?"

"We're getting there! And then, she just... She called the lasagna too dry! I worked on that lasagna for hours! Why would she do that!?"

"Kid Win, tears are inefficient. Please cease your production of water over my Halberd."

Irresistible

(Автор: ArnaudB)

It was so hot in her room.

Taylor forced her hands to remain on both sides of her body, the fingers clenching around the drenched covers. There was no heating, but the temperature kept rising with every hour. The ever-present warmth made her body tremble along with others feelings. Her eyes glanced toward the window, wishing to open it despite the winter air outside.

Both her hands moved as she lost focus, and the shocks came back again. Taylor heard the cry struggling to escape, she struggled to keep it inside even as her whole body jerked despite the covers's weight. She failed and the soft sounds left her again even as the ten digits pressed and bounced against the already battered surface.

It was so very hot here.

The digits dived into a pound just as the floor creaked on the other side of the door. Taylor felt a moment of mixed panic and excitation, both fueling each others just as her fingers touched the solid depths of the pound. Her mouth bit into the covers just as unbearable discharges rendered her mind devoid of any coherent thought. She bent inside the covers twisting until her fingers were caught between her thighs, her body trembling all the while.

"Taylor? Do you feel better?" It was an overpowering effort of will and, most humiliatingly practice, that allowed the girl to smile as a man carefully peeked inside.

"A little, Dad." She managed in a whisper, all she wished to hide covered by her real exhaustion and turning the pleasant part of her emotions into joy at seeing her father. He smiled back despite his own obvious tension, a tension that only seemed to increase when he steeped into the room's atmosphere.

She managed to keep the smile up for a few seconds longer, until her fingers slipped from their prison and trailed up her legs until half of them went back between them.

"Taylor, are you really sure that you don't me to call a doctor?" Danny asked with concern in his voice. The man awkwardly shifted from one leg to the other as his daughter gathered her will to give him a reassuring, so pleased smile. Taylor breathed in, too little air in her lung to speak and she shook her head vividly.

It hid the tremors when her fingers pressed against the drowning flesh with a vengeance. Her voice caught and left her unable to speak at this terrible moment when her father was watching. The words halted in her mouth, then came with a bouncing rhythm that echoed the five others fingers drumming against her leg.

"No, Dad. It's just a fever, there is no need to call someone." Her voice faltered toward the end in a longing echo. Taylor felt herself blush furiously but thankfully the difference it made upon her face wasn't noticeable. Too much crimson already.

"No matter, if this keep up I will call one. Here, you should drink a bit." She blinked at the offered bottle of water. A thirst she had forgotten made itself know and she reflexively started to sit up so as to take it, stopping a moment later as the sensation of her damp hand upon her stomach overwhelmed her. "Taylor?" The worried inquiry came up with as just her battered mind caught up with the situation.

She most certainly could not offer that hand to her dad. That what her vanquished mind howled before the rest of her body rendered it useless again. Taylor didn't answer, as much unable to formulate a sentence as to voice it. Instead she wiped the least wet of her hand, the one formerly upon her leg, against the sheets as strongly as she could. Then she snatched the bottle of water from her father's hand, trembling too much, moving too fast, trying so hard not to touch him. Her father steeped back as if startled, but once she had the bottle in her hand she no longer cared.

The stifling odor of the room, the sweet scent that had already along with her father. Both overwhelming, both overwhelmed as her nose caught the strong yet bland odor of what fluids still permeated her arm. It sent her mind screaming back into abysses of frustration, her lips harshly caught the tip of the bottle, and she raised the bottle to greedily to gulp the water.

Taylor swallowed multiple times as the liquid poured, interrupting herself and starting again in a vain effort stabilize her trembling grip. Water dripped between her bottle and her mouth, it fell upon the top of her chest and left clear and steamy trails as each drops passed over the uncovered top of her breasts. They vanished from sight, those drops, and roamed into the mysteries hidden by the covers.


* * *

Irresistible — 1.1b

There was a loud swallowing sound. It almost startled Taylor when her tongue poked out at the spilling water, the girl abandoned that course of action to turn toward her father, himself turned partly turned away from her. There was unease in his voice when he spoke.

"It's a tad hot in your room, Taylor. Maybe I should open the window?" The man didn't wait for her response to walk away from the bed.

"I would like that." The agreement parted from her lips in a loud whisper and froze her father in his steps. The simple words seemed to echo with far greater promises to her own ears, it made her notice the nervous twitching of her father's fingers before the man went to the window and opened it in a single motion.

The cold air of Winter rushed inside with a vengeance. It tore through the scents of the room as if trying to destroy the odors themselves and slammed against Taylor's daze, hardly dissipating it.

"Well, that's a little better. Should I leave her open?" Her father commented after taking a heavy breath. Taylor nodded at his inquiry before diving deeper into the warm covers. The stifling atmosphere gone, the sweet scent that accompanied her Dad still present, the throbbing of her body whose fingers tried to warm the cold-hit parts.

It was comfortable.

"Are you going to work?" She softly inquired. For a moment her Dad seemed disturbed again, shifting from one feet to the other before he answered again, an uneasy edge in his tone.

"Yes. Unless you want me to stay."

"Will be fine." She shook her head, which was a delicious mistake. Her long hairs pulled by the movement brushed against the arguably least stimulated part of her, her back. The hundred strands tingled against the skin and she pretended that the shake of her head made her far more dizzy than it did.

"Well, if you say so." Her father carefully said while she choked the rising moans into her pillows. The walking steps sounded more hurried and cautious than it was usual. With great struggle Taylor bottled up the sensations and gave her father a smile when he passed the door.

"Have a good day, Dad."

"You too, Taylor. Rest, um, well." Her father answered back without managing to hide the mix of worry and perplexity on his face. Then he carefully closed the door. The sweet scent left with him and Taylor felt as if the Sun had just been shoved out. She twisted with her stomach against the mattress, jerked her head up as if drowning, and tried to hold back the haze.

She failed. Her arms shook the covers in burst, letting the cold air slam against her overstimulated skin before burying it again in damp warmth. She turned her body over in the covers, making the hairs brush again. She buried her face to stifle her moans, then raised one hand to her mouth when it wasn't enough anymore. It made the haze worse. The steps of father leaving echoed for moments longer while she tasted the substance upon her fingers, and lost herself anew as her other hand kept swapping between her breasts and her lower parts.

If her alarm clock and her memories were to believed, it was fifty minutes later that Taylor shook the haze long enough to successfully get out of her room. Her own legs were unsteady and she had to lean against the wall for support. The bathrobe was moist with sweat and other things, but at least it had absorbed enough of her fluids that she wasn't spilling them all over the floor.

Unlike the first time she had hurried to the showers. This was the fourth time and she wasn't looking forward trying to wipe the floor when she could no longer keep her hands from fondling her even now. Taylor wasn't really surprised when she managed to reach the bathroom. She slipped out of the bathrobe and packed it inside the basket that contained the odors of the used towels inside. In the same movement Taylor staggered inside the stall and turned the shower on. The girl didn't bother stopping the moans as the water impacted her raw skin, just as she hadn't tried to stop her free hand from still fondling her body all the way there. Rather she used the shift to lean all the fingers against the wall, and cursed.

"When. Is. It. Enough?" Taylor carefully accentuated every half-moaned word. It helped. Because of the water falling upon her, despite how each drop made her body stir and shake, her mind could somewhat function. "When, Power?" She bitterly asked while eyeing how water briefly chased the somber substance that covered her skin. It came back quickly, continuously produced by whatever dimension or gland her power used.

Yes, her power. It was the sole consolation of this whole mess, the humiliating one that caused the trigger event, and the embarrassing one from afterward. It had felt like a very awkward ability to have at first. There was a substance that was slightly darkening her skin and covering all of it, an exciting one, raising her sensitivity. She released it or something else like spore in her surrounding, although she hadn't studied that before holing up in her room.

Her body had started changing too, many faults she had found before in her body were gone. The bust increase had been the notable change that made her notice the others. They sprung to mind too, but she lost them and her focus when her throbbing body rubbed the aforesaid bust against the wall. Her mind went to pieces when her fingers followed up with sudden agitation between her legs. It was only accumulated frustration that allowed her to tear herself from the wall and her fingers from herself, with a roaring protest.

"Stop it!" Unsurprisingly her quivering body made the words shaky, but the real irritation gave her mind a hold to come back to. Then she could swear profusely at the one part of her power that truly frustrated her.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the excitation. It had been an awkward surprise when she found herself almost naturally fondling herself, made stronger by how the substance raised her sensitivity. Very awkward, it had been downright mortifying when she had found out, and would have remained so yet a limited annoyance if she didn't stumble into her major problem pretty quickly.

Namely, she couldn't come. No matter how much she had stimulated herself during her first minutes of stimulation, it didn't work. She couldn't achieve that exhausted deliverance that some previous limited experiences assured her existed.

Hours after her trigger she had shrugged it off, left to prepare dinner with mere dissatisfaction. But the feeling hadn't left her and she had found herself experimenting again after she had gone to bed.

In the thirty-seven hours that separated then and now there hadn't been any further success. At first she remembered stopping her attempts, resting, reading, eating, walking with putting the problem mostly out of mind. Then it ramped up as she showered, struggled to keep her hands writing notes and nothing else at her desk. It went on with she grew bolder and bolder, more and more frustrated, until her hands constantly fondled her body. Sleep quickly ceased being a stop-gap, her body proving it could manage going on without her input, just as the last episode with her chest proved. Then her hands had accumulated the hours until her whole skin felt raw and hot, keeping her from returning to school as a small mercy.

Yet, in all that time, she had yet to reach her peak once. The closest she had come was when she smelled the sweet scent that accompanied her father, but it hadn't been enough, and she most definitively refused to go any deeper in that direction. Taylor's body shivered despite the hot water, and her mind hovered at possibilities for an heart-stopping moment. Then the girl forced herself to consider the idea, and let out a shuddering breath when she felt the sheer incomprehension mixed with disgust at the thought of doing... things with her father.

"Thanks for that." Taylor whispered feelingly, feeling further relief when she used her nerdy classmate Greg as a point of comparison. Frustrated and over-stimulated as she was, it apparently wasn't enough to throw her into the truly desperate choices.

So great was her relief that she collapsed upon the stall. Still, the simple contact of the floor made her body throb, and she knew she needed to do something. Taylor laid there a few moments before gathering herself up and carefully stepping out of the bath. Wiping herself was another moan-filled trial, so stimulating that she took a detour by the kitchen naked in order to cool down. Only then did she dress up with a clean pair of jeans, a scarf, and enough covering to fend off the bite of winter.

A walk would do her good. She steeped outside the house biting a chocolate bar even as she nursed that hope. Taking a tour to the city might cool her down, give her some ideas, get her tired enough. Or, even if she really didn't want to think about it, find someone that would care for her issue.

At the very last, at the very extreme, she had to free her body from this constant arousal and rising frustration before she came home, before despair.

She wasn't going to jump her father. Not now, not ever.


* * *

Irresistible — 1.1c

The scents in the bus were bland.

That was the frustrating thing on which Taylor focused, something beside holding herself against the bar, avoiding making sudden moves. She breathed in the odors, trying to find one that stuck her like her father's sweet scent did. There were small hints that appeared and vanished, tantalizing hopes that kept increasing her frustration. Yet another person noticed her flushed state and asked her if she wanted to sit, and Taylor shook her head in polite refusal.

"Are you sure, miss?" This time it was an elderly woman. Taylor nodded, not trusting her voice. There was a scent that flickered as the man spoke, a hint of sweetness that hung in the air before it disappeared when the man accepted her answer and sat back. There were more gazes that flickered toward her from time to time, but the bus was strangely silent. Despite the low traffic and few passengers at this hour on weekday, the driver seemed tense too.

Taylor's hand inside her shirt snapped toward her breast, and cut short her breath again. It sent another tremor thorough her before she could get the limb back into position to save her recently expanded bust from being pressured by the now undersized shirt. She inhaled the blessed air before focusing on keeping still. The shirt was one of her two mistakes, along with forgetting the heavy winter clothes would rub her raw body with every step.

Eighty meters were all that had been needed to fully inform her of her mistakes. If the bus stop hadn't been there, she would probably have headed home and launched herself into long hours of heavy physical practice. The bus jerked to a sudden halt, making her lose both her focus and her hold for a moment, before Taylor managed to catch a lower part of the bar. A young couple that she had noticed before was equally surprised and the male of the duo placed her hand where Taylor was holding before.

Taylor was too busy stifling a revealing moan to pay it much attention, even when the boy hurriedly drew his hand away from the bar. Still the sudden brushing of her clothes was too much and Taylor felt a rising mortification when all her efforts only stretched the loud moan that left her mouth. When she opened her eyes however, no-one was staring at her. Pretty much was, or pretending very hard not to, staring at the young couple whose earlier kissing session had gained a hand-on activity.

Taylor's embarrassment won out over any temptation, and she escaped the bus under the cover of the providential distraction.

Her stop turned out to be a tourist area. Not that there were many tourists walking around the Boardwalk in this season. The large buildings covered in window glass, the mall and multiple shops, the promenade by the sea nearby. Taylor recognized the passingly familiar surrounding even as she steeped away from the bus stop and the people here, then she sighed. It wasn't the worst place to be, enforcers from the shops kept the thugs away, and unless she strayed into the alleyways she was unlikely to end up in too much trouble.

That was her optimist hope, when the first thing that caught her eyes was a pink-colored shop. Hidden in an alley, not so much hidden as to make the toys on display invisible. Taylor took a few moment to process the sight, then let out a sad moan. That the first shop she noticed was selling sex toys fitted how things had been going since her trigger, she supposed. Still, finding that kind of place first thing in the most respectable district of the city...

She breathed in the bland scents, steeping between the small flow of people, and forced herself to consider the idea for a moment. Almost immediately logic reminded her that she wasn't legally an adult, and that such purchases were forbidden to her. Taylor turned her attention to the mall and pondered on getting shirts and bras that weren't constricting her chest.

Her mind was momentarily muted on opinions when her body responded to the notion of trying clothes, which would imply more rubbing and brushing, more frustration. Taylor tried to press the brakes when her body reacted to the notion, reminding herself that here were the most expensive shops of the town, and that money was sparse. When her imagination decided that the best option was to get intimate with the pink shop vendor rather than screw up one from the malls, Taylor really started to wonder how the mounting frustration was affecting her brain.

Taylor paused into the street and sighed. Her hand didn't try to get inside her coat when she raised it, perhaps because of how she was feeling depressed now, still frustrated. After paying the price of trauma to get powers, was that the only way her life was going to go? Lose her sanity to frustration until she threw her body at men, did and said anything just to make it stop. Then it would be just like Emma had said before her trigger, people only taking out of charity because of what a mess she would be.

It didn't seem attractive, didn't make her body spasm into fits of anticipation. Just disheartening. It was then Taylor smelled a faint hint of spice, along with a heavy sweet scent. It came so suddenly that her hands acted up again, apparently trying to chase her negative feelings with handwork. Taylor almost lost the scent along with her mind, when the former flickered before growing more intense as in response. Just keeping her balance, she turned toward what she thought was the source, and felt faintly confused when she found a blonde girl behind her.

Said girl had clearly been staring for a while and took a step back when Taylor looked at her. The movement caused a startle in Taylor's body, an imitation of rejection that prompted her to cross the distance and lay her hand on the girl's arm. It caused the far better dressed girl, perhaps just a little older, to freeze. Taylor then realized that she had no idea what to say, what to do, and that the idea of just trying to offer a boy her body would have probably been beyond her communication skills. Taylor drew upon her most pressing issue, that overwhelming frustration that never abated and summed that plea in just two words.

"Help me." Two very simple words, they made Lisa swallow visibly. Her tongue tried to form words but she found her brain unable to catch up with the sudden event. Too many information to take in, too little time, and increased sensitivity spreading from her bare wrist touched by the hand.

Taylor's noticed the immobility but only as much as it wasn't a rejection. The scents that felt even stronger from so close prompted her body into unconscious action once more, and she took the unresistant girl toward one of the somber alley without another word.


* * *

Irresistible — 1.1d

They didn't go far.

There was an halting breath as Taylor felt her legs collapsing. Overwhelmed by the brushing clothes and the scents, she just managed to rest between a wall and a towering metal construction serving as a power transformer. Taylor remained there a second before her legs let her slid downward.

A hand caught her under the shoulder, the pressure making her mind crack before an entire body pressed against her own to support it, and her mind went to pieces once more. The scents, brushes and contacts. Her hand trapped under her shirt and pressed by too many things. It was too much for Taylor and she didn't even think as her free hand blindly reached to bring the scents even closer.

"Wait. Talk to me, explain." Lisa's words came out less steady than she wished. Her hand intercepted the trembling girl's fingers, forcing her to shift to body to avoid letting the other fall to the ground. The motion pressed her clothes against the girl's own, and Lisa found herself immensely troubled by desperately stifled moan reaching her ears.

"I'm sorry. I have a problem, ever since-" There wasn't much else that Taylor managed to say before the fluctuating sweet scent mad her lose her words. Almost unconsciously Taylor reeled Lisa's hand with her own, making the interwoven fingers struggle with her clothes until she made Lisa's palm and fingers touch her skin.

"Your power, you can't climax." Lisa stammered amid the flow of information of her own power, not quite a distraction from her how hand was bathing into the sensitivity-increasing substance covering Taylor's skin. In fact, learning how reddened, how stimulated the hot and damp the flesh under, and above, her hand was annihilated her thoughts. Lisa felt Taylor's breath tensing at the mention of her power, then before she could use the pause to gather her thoughts, Lisa experienced that tension by the hardness of Taylor's breast as the moaning girl fondled herself by proxy.

Might as well have been rooted in place, for all Lisa could think of moving her legs in any fashion.

"Climax?" Taylor voiced out the unfamiliar term, her brain latching on the word against her still present frustration. The attractive scents took a rising hint of spice, the brushing of clothes was melting her mind, and the hand cradling her breast was something part of her wanted to go on for a ling time. But the frustration of her mind, her burning body screaming for release turned the pleasure into a near-torture that her brain just couldn't enjoy.

Taylor pulled the captured hand away from her breast. It startled a small cry from the girl, whose green eyes stared at her uncomprehendingly. The scents wavered in a frustrating manner as Taylor guided the hand lower. The contact still drew a few hard breaths from her, then a groan as she had to struggle a few seconds with an obstacle. She felt herself flush in embarrassment at what she was doing, and kept going.

Lisa's eyes widened a little as her power helped her brain realize Taylor's intention. Trembling too much to get away, she just managed a hard shallow before her fingers were led through the underwear and into a far too intimate place, a hot place filled with a clingy liquid that poured from a throbbing opening. Her power helpfully told Lisa that the substance was as unnatural as the one causing the hyper-sensitivity of her hand. Then the exciting nectar caressed all her digits before traversing the skin and permeating her hand in depth like an aphrodisiac cream.

The feedback from Lisa's hand slaughtered all of Lisa's coherence in that moment. The blaze cursed through her body, blasted through every sensitive parts of her arm, burned the strength from her legs, projected it between them, and climbed her throat in a choked scream. It all gathered to in a burning inferno embracing all of her brain and devouring able to feel or think.

It exploded with her collapsing forward that tangled her up further with the warm source. It came a second time while she was still managing to hold back her voice, and she utterly failed to do that when the third blaze came. Then sheer overload allowed Lisa to surmount the unstopping embrace for a moment.

"That, is a climax." Lisa answered of all things, the words all but incomprehensible as distorted by her moans as they were. Her entire body jerked under further blazes and she mindlessly amended herself. "Those are." Then her trapped fingers actually touched Taylor's intimate part, drenched by the substance, and even her power couldn't make Lisa form a sentence anymore.

Just lots of moans.

Taylor raised a hand at this, freed from fondling her breast. She reached for the girl and brought her closer, her exciting mind barely holding together, then stifled Lisa's vocalizes with insistent and repeated chaste kisses. She kept going even when they both struggled for breath, kept forcing their clothes to rub together, kept the hand inside her moving. So many sensations, so much sensations that her whole being screamed for her to end it and she couldn't.

The sweet and spicy scents kept wavering, frustration growing along with pleasure, and she persisted.

A fresh liquid spilled into Lisa's mouth and she swallowed it amid labored breaths. Her power told her of yet another unnatural substance that replaced the saliva, her mind feeling surprised that she was even able to notice it. More breaths drew more saliva inside Lisa's mouth and gave her just enough clarity to listen to her power, to understand how the healing substance acted against the near-painful overload of her senses. Lisa clung to the possibility of new-found sanity with all her might, and found herself sucking in the girl's saliva, finding pleasantly that it also eased power-gifted headache.

"Why me?" Lisa asked when her lapping upon the source of reason let her brain assemble a sentence. It didn't last. Out of sheer exhaustion her body didn't go into yet another climax, but the blaze was more than enough to shatter her reason once more.

"The scents," Taylor answered, her frustration and desperate resignation showing despite her aroused breaths. "Sweet and spicy. Only you, one other." Lisa carefully didn't listen to her power telling her the other was the girl's father. She drank in the saliva, was submerged by pleasure anew, and managed to keep some clarity for a moment again. She noticed again the scent of chocolate that Taylor had presumably eaten little ago, it helped her focus on her words. It was getting pressing, Lisa wasn't sure she was going to stay conscious much longer. It took but one inquiry at her power to get an answer, the key.

It twisted her heart that it was something so basic.

Taylor felt her thoughts end as Lisa's fingers still inside her twitched, for the first time with intend, and rubbed insistently her most intimate spot. She felt herself spasm in complete disproportion with before, smelling with the suddenly heavy sweet scent without understanding. It didn't prevent her body from answering to it, her hand from pulling up her shirt so that Lisa's other hand could cup her breasts. The gentle assault redoubled and Taylor felt her body stiffen, her lower part rising and clinging against Lisa's fingers until the burning wave roared through her organs, nerves and skin, scorching everything and consuming every thought. It was a blazing Sun, then Taylor felt herself collapse as if without string. Burning embers remaining into every inch of her body.

Not quite unconscious, not quite satiated.

Lisa laid with the girl for a long while, trying to regain some measure of breath and riding the high heights of too much pleasure and orgasms. She shivered a little as she felt the rain and moved a little so as to get them both sheltered under Taylor's larger coat. Sitting, it was enough but she wasn't sure that she could get up.

It was then that the situation started to dwell on her, she looked around the alley and thanked the rain for covering the earlier noises and moans. Her eyes lowered toward the brown haired girl. Lisa just wanted to collapse there and sleep contently, but unable but blind to the mood her power gave her a motive to worry.

Not enough. Her power had correctly guessed the answer to make the girl achieve climax, but Taylor's body hadn't been able to process that deliverance in its entirety. Too much stimulation done for too long upon an entirely unprepared body, the climax had been forced to end midway, and it was probably the only reason Taylor's was still conscious and aware rather than passed out.

Now, of course, was the tricky part of what they were going to do. Lisa felt too thoroughly exhausted, and the girl even more so, to get up. Shouting or calling for help was going to lead to some very awkward scenarios at best, not appreciable ones at worst. Staying here was a big no, risking discovery as bad as risking the cold rain. The beginning of an headache started to batter Lisa's far too pleased body as she bitterly noted that she wouldn't be able to get up, much less help the girl whom she wasn't leaving in that state.

Then Lisa clicked her tongue and leaned to kiss Taylor some more.

Musings of a Shadow

(Автор: redaeth)

I jiggled the can of coke in my hands and watched as my two closest friends argued with one another. Absently I took a sip as my eyes tracked their hands and words, straining my eyes to catch every nuance.

They were already glowing. Outright auras of wrong, telling me to grovel and or flee. I did my best to ignore the feelings, and for the most part I was successful. I knew a sense of shame that lingered from the first time, that if I was the focus of either of them I would have been long gone. Sadly being a parahuman didn't mean I was immune.

Honestly I had no idea why or how they had gotten these powers, but I knew, bone deep that they were in no way like my own. Not from the same place, and didn't use anything similar to what I did. The only good thing was that a little bit of that power seemed to rub off on the surroundings. Including the people around them. Which is why I was studying them so intently. If I could just borrow a fraction of their ability to convince others to do what they wanted maybe I could get Miss Piggy off my back about Grue's unfortunate hospital stay. Hey he didn't die! And he was in jail. Win, win for the heroes right?

I groaned into my drink as the topic got more heated. They were now sinking some real power into themselves and I could feel it like two massive heartbeats against my skin.

If I had been the Sophia of three months ago their argument over Taylor Hebert of all people would have been downright bizarre. Both of them were possessive of the former bullied girl and in slightly different ways. Madison wanted to fuck her and make her part of her rapidly growing circle of fuckbuddies. Simple as that.

Emma, on the other hand wanted to own her. In every which way. Mind, body and soul. If Hebert wasn't as bullshit as these two were she would most likely be locked in Emma's basement and treated like a beloved pet, and never, ever allowed to leave.

I found it slightly disturbing honestly. I had bad memories of the possibility of being in that sort of situation and seeing Emma turn from a fellow predator to something that I wouldn't hesitate to kill was something I did my best to head off. Which is why I sided with Madison more often when these arguments included me.

I was just lucky I wasn't Madison's type of course, as she had made it abundantly clear how grateful she was when I did so. So instead it was an invite to join one of her orgies instead of her focusing her attentions on me wholesale and most likely seducing me. Did I mention I hate their bullshit powers?

I quirked an eyebrow at Madison as she looked my way, the argument was winding down. Stalemate again. Madison wouldn't give up "I called dibs." And Emma wouldn't give up "She's mine, you can't call dibs." Which is just the way I liked it. Taylor was safe for another day it seems. Goddamn magical bullshit. Why the fuck was I the one babysitting two nascent gods who could go Heartbreaker on entire nations?

Oh right, telling anyone about what Emma and Madison was capable of would get me slammed into MasterStranger protocols for the next century. And possible Brockton Bay made into a quarantine zone. Or nuked. Nuked was a good possibility given the zombies Madison had unintentionally unleashed last week.

Madison flumped into the couch next to me, her pout absolutely adorable, and despite my mental conditioning of watching it become a force of nature it still made me want to hug and comfort her. Goddamnit. Instead I handed her a coke, which she accepted with a cutely grumbled thanks.

"Sophia is it so bad I want Taylor? I mean she is so... rawr. All smooth muscles and feline grace." Oh fuck me. She did not just ask that.

I did the best thing I could and shrugged. She just returned to pouting.

Good.

I considered the enigma of these strange powers and naturally my thoughts strayed to Taylor, who was, well, different. Madison and Emma hadn't changed all that much. Madison loved attention and Emma wanted to control everyone and everything around her. Taylor on the other hand sometimes seemed like the weak sniveling victim we had battered into being.

But other times? Other times she was exactly like Madison had described. Grace, power, surety. A predator. Better yet a predator who looked down on the prey around her to pick and chose her next meal.

One time that had been literally. I had encountered her shortly after Emma had revealed her new powers to me, and then encountered Taylor glowing silver and moving through the streets like a ghost. I had followed her, watching her stalk a drugged out excuse of a parahuman and slowly terrified him into huddling in a corner before she killed him. It had been exhilarating. I remember the shiver that had run down my spine and it echoed as the scene flashed before my eyes. She was more brutal then me, but Predators could chose how they treated their victims after all.

I'm pretty sure she hadn't hunted like that since then as no others had turned up with their hearts missing, but joining her as Shadow Stalker once in a while made up for dealing with bullshit Emma and Madison got up to. Taylor was even starting to trust me as I had covered her back a few nights ago when Armmaster turned up after she had tangled with Lung.

Which was good, because I was pretty sure she knew more about the bullshit magic then either of my friends did. Or at least a bullshit magic I could actually use. And absolutely no other reason. No matter how much Madison would tease me about my own supposed interest in the girl.

I made a decision as the quiet sank in. I was pretty sure Taylor would be hunting the streets again and I wanted to join her. A bit more openly then merely stalking her shadow.

I stood up and bid the two pouting prima donnas good night. It was time for a shadow to stalk the streets once more.

Тo Know Thyself

(автор: Valette-Serafina)

A little plotless smut. First Person/Present, tentacles. F/self(Altform), mild dirty talk, size difference. Tense fuckery.

Alone in my hotel room, I lay unmoving on my bed. I also stand, looking around the room.

For most people, that'd be impossible. I'm not most people. I'm a cape, and I've seen the world in hundreds of different ways. I'm currently a hairless human-like thing, slender and nearly seven feet tall. Eight long prehensile tentacles sprout from my back, and my legs bend at three points.

Each of the bodies I create has its own differences, little things that make the world look so new and fresh. This one sees colour as a blur, because I wasn't focusing on eyes when I made it. The room seems so much more alive this way.

I made this form for a reason, though. I look down at my body on the bed, motionless and quiet. Me, but not me right now.

Helpless. The thought makes something stir in me, makes my tentacles twitch. I run one over my hair, the blur of red-brown tinted purple as it rubs against the sheath around my sensitive organ.

My body. A girl, utterly incapable of stopping me. I brush a second tentacle against the dress I'm wearing, from waist up to the gentle swell of my breasts. I rest it in the valley between them, luxuriating in my slow, passive breathing. I use two more of my tentacles to push my breasts together, engulfing my tentacle between them as I slide it forward, out of its sheath.

It feels good. Very good, but it could feel better. I move my tentacles around and lift my body into a sitting position. Then I take hold of the front of my dress with my hands and tear it open, letting my breasts spill out of the new hole before I take them in hand. My nipples are stiff, so I twist and tweak them before pushing them together once again.

My body's well endowed enough for me to fit two of my tentacles between my tits, sliding up and down as they leak lubricant. The smooth skin sliding against my sensitive appendages feels divine, and I can't help myself from letting out a low moan. A few more thrusts and I feel something build inside me, pressure gathering behind my tentacles.

I move my tentacles, aiming them at my face and tits before my orgasm hits me and I spray thick jets of cum at them, painting white myself with the pearlescent fluid as jet after jet bursts forth.

Gasping, I let myself fall back onto the bed as I recover. My tentacles twitch, smaller jets arcing toward my unconscious form as I ride out the pleasure.

So good, it feels sooo good. My body lies slumped backward so I turn myself over and hike my dress up and over my waist, moving my legs to hold my ass in the air.

I'm not wearing underwear, so I can freely run a tentacle between my thighs and along my slit. I'm dripping wet, so I spank myself with one of my tentacles for being so slutty. It feels good, so I do it again.

Certain that I'm wet enough, I slide my tentacle into my cunt. There's no resistance from my limp body as I slide in, my relaxed muscles yielding to my firm organ.

I'm warm and wet, but I'm far too loose. It's good, but the lack of pressure means that I'll take ages to cum. I've got a fix for that, though. I slide a second tentacle into my cunt, and a third into my ass. Then, I start spanking myself. Each strike sends a ripple of contractions through my lower muscles, clenching down on my members.

I speed up the pace, stretching myself out as I hammer my face into the bed. It's not long before I feel the building pressure again and I reach out to grab my hips, pulling myself back onto the tentacles.

I reach my limit, and cry out as I pack myself full of spunk, spraying more onto my back from my other tentacles.

This time I don't let myself fall back. I hold myself up, admiring my gaping holes as my cum leaks out.

I'm ready.

A slit on my pubic mound opens to let my primary sex organ spring forth. A massive dick, as thick as my wrist. I needed to loosen myself for it, or it wouldn't fit.

I lift myself up as I take a seat on the bed, turning my sleeping face toward me. The sheets wiped off most of my cum, but not all. I don't care. I pull myself closer and kiss my unresisting mouth, sending my forked tongue in to dance with my limp one.

I spend a few moments sharing breath with myself. Then, I lift myself, lining up my dick with my gaping cunt.

I end the kiss, and push myself down. I slide over my shaft, sending wonderful shivers of bliss through myself until I bottom out halfway down my shaft. I expected this, so I pull myself up and push down again, slowly going deeper with each thrust.

I'm big enough that I feel tight around my shaft, and I swell a little with each thrust. When I finally hilt myself, I'm held tightly enough that I can't pull out in one motion. I begin to rock my shaft back and forth, when I notice a tightening in my slit. I slide one hand down to play with my clit, and the tightening intensifies.

Nearly there, I lean down to whisper in my ear: "Slut."

My body clenches as it cums, and that sets me off, which triggers another orgasm as I spray hot, thick jets of cum into my womb. My belly swells slightly under my hand as I fill it.

I fall backwards, my body falling with me, still impaled on my cock. I lean back in the mess I made of the bed, caressing my cheek as I come down from the high.

Just Jess and Genesis.

"I'm all I need."

Love in the Foreground

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

My name is Victoria Dallon, and I hate everything, forever. Alright, I'm being melodramatic, I'll admit but I'm 17, so it is well within reason to be unreasonable. There are a few things I don't hate at the moment. My family, entomology (a hobby of mine, no matter what some people think of it) and my powers. That's right, I have fricken awesome super powers. My whole extended family does and we use them to fight crime. I even have a rich, handsome, super heroic boyfriend that can relate to the stresses that our calling puts on us.

Or rather, I used to. You can only catch someone flirting with random bimbos so many times before you stop making excuses for them. The worst part is the type of girls Dean chooses to flirt with. Blond, busty and completely devoid of any original thought. In other words, the kind of girl people expect me to be until I open my mouth and they realize I don't skip from high school directly to college for image reasons. Taking a few courses on brain dead subjects like parahuman studies for mixed credit? Perfectly normal for the "All American Bombshell". Skipping right into advanced biology courses with an emphasis on arthropodology? Clearly the bitch is cheating with her powers. Or maybe she payed for admittance on he knees.

Finding Dean getting handsy with some silicon slut hurt on a deeper level than just betrayal. It almost felt like a comment on what he wanted me to be. Like my intelligence is second fiddle to what I can do with my body. Isn't that what people always say about boys? That they only want you for your body? It doesn't matter that you're in the library, checking out college level texts to identify rare species of insects, you have fantastic boobs and that is all you will ever be useful for. You've made more parahuman arrests than the entire Wards team put together? That's nice honey, now get on your knees like a good girl. I swear, it's enough to make a girl want to swear off boys entirely.

With that portentous thought in my head, I didn't notice the tall, slender brunette reaching for the same book on the top shelf as me. Our hands met and the shock of skin to skin contact caused us both to overbalance and topple to the floor in a tangle of limbs and books. Pretty embarrassing when one of your powers is flight. Now if this had been a romantic comedy, then I would have landed on my future love interest with my face just above hers and our bodies flush against each other. As we were not engaged in wacky, scripted shenanigans, we simply fell in an uncomfortable pile.

Making sure to keep my emotion projecting aura in check, I pulled myself off the girl and offered her a hand up.

"Sorry about that," I apologized, "I'm kinda used to being the only person in the entomology section, so I wasn't really paying much attention to my surroundings." I finished with my biggest "I'm a Superhero, you can trust me" grin, but it only seemed to make her tense up. After a second, she seemed to relax, or maybe just kind of fold in on herself to present a smaller target, and stand without taking my hand. She mumbled an apology, or maybe she was telling me to fuck off, and started to skulk away.

Something about this didn't sit right with me. Normal people get angry or laugh off things like this. They don't act like beaten puppies. It actually kind of reminded me of Amy, before she took up extreme sports for stress release.


* * *

Somewhere, hidden high in the Himelayas

Amy bent low to her snowboard, partially to prepare to jump the swiftly approaching chasm, and partially to present a smaller target for the ninjas armed with tinker tech rifles chasing after her on snow mobiles. She hit the lip of the chasm and leapt with all the might of her living suit of armor. She spun and flipped in mid air, so she could hook her board to the landing struts of the waiting helicopter. Her purely organic dart launcher, modeled after a very special variety of shrimp, discharged three times, striking 5 ninjas.

Amy lifted herself into the passenger cabin of the helicopter and closed the door, very pointedly not looking as the mountain top, secret base of Dr. Killmore exploded.


* * *

Meanwhile, back at the ranch— I mean, Brocton Bay

I followed the girl I had fallen on to a table with a number of open books on it. A quick glance at them showed we might have a mutual interest.

"Can I help you?" She had turned to face me as I looked over her reading selection. Her posture was guarded, and her tone was about as welcoming as Behemoth's attitude but I pushed on as only a blond bombshell really can.

"Hi, I'm Victoria, but most people call me Vicky." I started cheerfully. I will admit, a tiny bit of my aura may have slipped into my greeting. "I haven't really met any other girls who were interested in arthropodology and I thought I'd introduce myself to a fellow bug lover. What's your name?" Perkiness, thy name is Vicky.

Maybe I had over done it, because she looked like she wanted to run right then and there but she stood her ground against hurricane Victoria and mumbled, "Taylor."

"Cool. So what kind of bugs did you need 'A Comparison of Hunting Tactics in Arachnids' by... Gusset? Oh god, that man's writing style could drive Scion himself to homicide." She looked at me with surprise.

"Is it really that bad?" She asked in a skeptical tone.

"Definitely." I stated with conviction. "I'd rather sort through a hundred thesis papers to get a piece of info than read one of Gusset's pieces of garbage." I huffed, remembering the all the times I'd tried to discuss the merits of one scientific writer or another with Dean and how flat that had fallen.

"I just wanted to know why black widows eat each other when they're close together." She seemed to remember something and made to hastily explain her interest. "I found a couple widows fighting in my basement. The winner ate the loser."

I smiled. "Widows are pretty territorial. I read an article a whole back talking about how strong spider silk is and how hard it is to harvest, due to the spiders all trying to eat each other. It took these monks in... Madagascar, I think, like 40 years to make one rug, if I remember right..."

We talked like that for hours, sharing facts and observations until Taylor's stomach growled, reminding us that lunch time had come and gone. She blushed cutely and apologized but I waved her off.

"How about we go get some lunch? I know this awesome little deli, about 2 blocks from here. If we hurry we can beat the rush. My treat!" I said as we started to gather the books to return.

"If it's not to much trouble..." She trailed off, uneasy at the thought of accepting anything that might resemble charity.

We chatted over lunch and I began to see the beginnings of a smile on her face as we laughed and joked. That moment when she finally broke out into a full, cheery smile, for just a few minutes, was when I realized that she really was kinda beautiful when she was happy. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but all the same, I wanted to see that smile more. I asked for her number.


* * *

Seven weeks later, I had a girlfriend. Taylor was skittish at first but gentle persistence goes a long way. We had done all the 'new girlfriend' things, like first dates, picnics and a supremely awkward meeting with my ex. Even the dreaded 'Meet the parents' trial all relationships must go through was passed with minimal embarrassment.

Well, on Taylor's side, anyways. Danny was incredibly kind and did his best to make it known he approved of anyone that could make Taylor happy.

When Taylor met my family, she was treated to Amy and Mom having another one of there weird, passive-aggressive fights where they do there best to insult each other without actually sounding like they're fighting. That and Amy gave Taylor a once over then offered me a high five. Which started the fight in the first place.

After Mom and Dad went to bed, I apologized to Taylor in my room. Which led to kissing. Which led to my hands being inexplicably draw to her firm ass. She pushed her tongue into my mouth and wrapped her arms around my neck and I just lost all control.

My free hand traveled to the hem of her shirt and began a meandering path up her taut belly, under her bra and around her breasts. I couldn't help it, I squeezed. Feeling her breath hitch in response turned me on more than I want to admit. Watching her take off her shirt and unhook her bra for me turned me on more than I can communicate.

If I was drive wild before, I was driven insane now. I used my incredible strength to push her down, onto my bed. The tiny squeak of surprise she made was adorable. I lifted her skirt forcibly off her and held her well toned legs against my body. I kissed her calf lightly and watched the shivers of anticipation run up her body. I left a trail of kisses, leading down her leg towards her crotch. I managed to hold myself back long enough to ask, "Are you okay with this?" She nodded.

With that, I dove in. I tore her panties apart with my teeth to get at the treasure below. I took a moment to appreciate her shaven mound, her already wet pussy and her quivering body.

"Don't just look at it." She protested, "It's embarrassing..."

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about here." I teased, "But your right, just looking is wonderful, but there is such a better use for my time."

I lower my head and licked her quim from bottom to top with the flat of my tongue. She gasped and shivered, but not from nervousness this time. I slipped one finger in the bottom of her pussy and began to slowly move it in and out. She moaned as I traced the outline of her sex with my tongue, shoving it in when it reached the finger I was fucking her with. I made this circuit several times before changing it up. When I got down to my finger and stuck my tongue in her again, instead of taking it out and continuing my path, I flicked my tongue upwards, hitting her clit with the tip of my lick.

She surprised me with a sudden and powerful orgasm, her vaginal muscles clenching around my finger like a vice. It struck me as odd, because I usually had to do a lot more to cum when masturbating. Then a thought occurred to me.

"Taylor," I asked, "Was that your first orgasm?" She nodded, her face a brilliant crimson. "Wish you had told me. This really should've been more romantic than just fucking in my room."

She slid down the bed and wrapped me in a tight hug. The feel of her naked body around my clothed one and the searing kiss scorched away any other thoughts. She pulled out of the kiss long enough to say, "I don't need romance. I need you." She kissed me again.

With thoughts of guilt banished, I once more pushed her down but this time I went with her. She pulled my shirt over my head and began to knead my breasts through my bra in a nearly painful frenzy. My right hand slipped down between her legs and I pushed my ring and middle fingers into her. She hissed and tried to arch her back but I pushed her back down. I grabbed both of her slender wrists with my left hand and held them above her head.

With one hand in her pussy, one hand immobilizing her and my mouth roaming her neck and chest, I drove her to three more orgasms. The sight of her clenching and writhing underneath me, of her struggling against my impossible strength triggered instincts I didn't know I had. Guess I found my first fetish. It eventually proved too much for me and I released Taylor's hands and pussy.

While she gasped for breath, I removed my skirt and my ruined panties and threw them into the corner. I crawled over Taylor until I had her head between my thighs and I sat lightly over her laboring chest. I paused for a moment to make a show of licking my juice covered fingers clean, savoring it like it was the most delicious thing in the world.

"You taste wonderful." My tone was soft and almost reverent. "Do you want to see if I taste as good to you as you do to me?" She didn't have the breath to say yes, so she merely nodded.

I didn't waste time after that. I sat up, so that my dripping cunt was directly over her face. She eagerly began to eat me out, as I ran my fingers through her beautiful, curly hair. I rode her face until it began to turn red, at which point I lifted myself off of her to let her breathe. She gulped air greedily and sent waves of hot breath over my pussy. The sensation of my lover's breath and the feelings of control and power from seeing her nearly choke on my muff sent me over the edge into the most intense orgasm I've ever had. I squirted clear fluid all over Taylor's face and she turned her head against the downpour.

Spent, I collapsed next to her in my soiled bed, my chest heaving just as hard as hers. After Taylor's breathing normalized, she rolled over to cuddle into my side.

"Vicky," she said, "I think I'm in love with you." Her bright green eyes stared into mine, searching for something.

"I love you, too." I said with as much conviction as I could muster, and I meant it, too. She kissed me fiercely and held me close.

I can not describe to you the feeling of absolute contentment that comes from falling asleep in the arms of someone you love. Some say it's like describing red to the blind. I say it's more like describing a homemade pasta sauce to someone who's only had Chef Boyardee. It was the most beautiful moment of my life to that point.


* * *

As it turns out, parents do not appreciate finding their daughters in bed, naked, with other, equally naked, girls.

Luckily, it was Amy who was found, tangled in bed with Shadow Stalker, a local villain named Tattletale and thirteen pounds of chocolate pudding, all with their masks on. Even Amy, who normally doesn't wear one. Taylor and I snuck out in the confusion.

The Night is For Lovers

(Автор: volantrex)

"Hey Hebert wake up" Sophia's voice cut through the dark.

When dad first brought Miss Hannah home Taylor was less than thrilled. It seemed too soon after mom. The more she got to know Miss Hannah though the more Taylor liked her, and when she learned who Miss Hannah was it was a dream come true. A real life hero! Dating her dad! How cool was that? Even school was bearable when she could come home and here stories about the time Miss Hannah met Alexandria or a funny story about Assault and Battery's antics. She should have known that it couldn't last.

Taylor didn't know what drove Sophia out of her house. All she knew was two horrible things. One Sophia was really Shadow Stalker, a hero like Miss Hannah, thus the PRT responsibility to take care of. And two, Sophia got handsy after patrolling.

"Come on Hebert I know you're awake." Taylor's bed gave a slight groan when Sophia sat on it. Taylor felt a hand grab her shoulder and turn her over. She opened her eyes, and in the dark could make the faint outline of Sophia leaning over her.

"There's my girl." Sophia had a smile full of dark intentions.

"Please Sophia not tonight." Taylor knew it wouldn't help, but she still had to try.

"Yes tonight" Sophia said grasping Taylor's wrists.

"Please, I'm not really in the mood."

"What's the matter honey? Got a head ache?" Sophia mocked moving to straddle Taylor's waist. The feel of the hero's costume was rough through Taylor's pajamas. "Give me five minutes and I get you in the mood."

Taylor's protests were swallowed by the other girl's mouth as Sophia kissed her roughly. Sophia soon pushed her tongue into Taylor's mouth. The dark skinned girl's hands started to caress the prone girl through the thin fabric of her shirt.

A whine emanated from Taylor's throat. Sophia smiled against her mouth. Moving from the other girl's lips she nibbled a trail down her jaw line. Taylor let out a shuddering breath in response.

The hero pushed herself up with a low growl. In a frenzy of motion Taylor's top was pulled over her head. The dark skinned teen latched her mouth onto one of Taylor's nipples. Sucking on it till it hardened the girl than switched over to the other side to do the same. The prone girl's skin flushed as she let out a low moan. Sophia leaned back to a kneeling position.

"So fucking pretty." Sophia muttered roughly playing with Taylor's heaving breasts.

"Ah, Sophia y-your gloves" The brunette gasped. Her pulse racing from the other girl's ministrations.

"Hmm?" Sophia smirked. Placing her right glove in teeth she slowly pulled it off her hand. Taylor watched her with wide eyes, her pupils dilated so far that her eye could barely be seen. As she moved her still gloved left toward her mouth Sophia seemed to think differently. Bring her hand down to the laying girl's mouth she ran her finger along her lower lip. The meaning was clear enough. Opening her mouth Taylor grabbed the loose part of the fabric with her teeth. Pulling her hand back the glove slid off.

"That's my girl." Sophia purred sliding her hand down. However instead of retuning to Taylor's breasts the hand traveled lower. Much lower.

Taylor let out a gasp as the hand found its destination. A shiver ran trough her body as she felt Sophia's finger ran through her slick folds. After a few passes the still costumed hero brought her fingers up to her lips, sucking the juices off them.

Closing her eyes to savor the taste Sophia smirked. "Still not in the mood?"

"T-that's so un-unfair." Taylor panted. She only received a smile in response before Sophia slipped her hand back into the fair skinned girl's pjs. However she merely ran her fingers around Taylor's pussy lips. Taylor whined and raised her hips desperately trying to get more friction. Sophia used her other hand to press her hips to the bed.

"You got to ask honey. I won't do it unless you ask. Your rules." The teen's voice was surprisingly calm, firm.

"Puh-please, So-Sophia. Fuck me. I need...I need." Taylor could barely talk through the haze.

Laying a kiss to Taylor's mouth Sophia slipped her finger into the girl's hot pussy. The brunette moaned into the other girl's mouth. She was close. So close. It never took much.

Sophia broke the kiss and moved her mouth to Taylor's ear. Gently she nibbled the prone teen's ear. At the same time her thumb began to roll over Taylor's clit. The sensation nearly overwhelmed her.

"Su-so close. I gotta. I gotta." Taylor's mind was unable to form the words.

"It's ok sweetheart. Cum for me." Sophia whispered into Taylor's ear.

That was all the encouragement she needed. Star-burst exploded behind her eyes and her backed arched. A name may have past her lips but Taylor could say which.

By the time the tremors had passed Sophia had risen and was collecting her discarded gloves.

"Leaving already?" Taylor asked, her voice shaky. "Don't you want me to, you know?"

"Nah, getting you revved up wore me out. 'Sides your dad and GI Jane are still heading to New York for the weekend right?" Taylor nodded, her dad had been planing the trip for weeks. She assumed he was planing to pop the question. She tried to ignore how that made her feel.

"Well I figure that gives you three days to pay me back." Sophia shot her a smirk as she started to leave. "I've got some ideas where you can start."

Embarrassing Revelation

(Автор: CptTagon)

Tried my hand at writing an omake for Conquest Quest.

Аmy yawned and stretched as she walked down the stairs. Mom and Dad had taken an all-night patrol last night and still weren't up. Vicky was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper and picking at a fruit salad. God, with the morning light shining through her hair, and that night robe... Amy shook those thoughts out of her head, and sat down opposite her sister.

She noticed that Vicky kept looking up at her for a few seconds, and then glancing back down at the paper.

"So what's so interesting in the news that you've been reading the article for the past five minutes, Vicky?" Victoria started, looked at Amy, and then looked away, red dusting her cheeks.

"So, when do we get to meet Taylor, Ames?" Amy just stared at her sister for a minute. How does anyone know about that!?

"W-who? I don't know anyone named Taylor, I think. Oh, wasn't o-our neighbor's kid named-" Oh God, why can't I lie better. It's because Vicky is just so smart, if only she—

"Oh really? You don't know anyone named Taylor? You sure sounded appreciative of him last night when you were talking about him," Vicky eyebrows raised, and she leaned forward, causing her robe to fall open an inch.

Last night? I didn't talk to anyone last night. I came home from the hospital, went to my room and didn't come back out. How could Vicky have heard me talking? All I did was oh shit! Amy had considered how to broach the topic of Firefly to her family, but spilling her name while masturbating was the single worst option she could think of. It wasn't her fault. Really, it was Firefly's fault. Her long hair, those deep eyes, those breasts that just swayed so invitingly, focus Amy!

"Uh, no one really, just someone I know, from, from the hospital."

"Uh huh. When do I get to meet the guy who finally charmed my sister?" Amy could see Victoria thinking about what she would do to any guy who was too sleazy towards her darling sister. If only she felt more strongly about me. No, I have Firefly. I know she wants me. She's just as hot as Vicky, I need to think about her. Firefly kissing me. Taylor removing her shirt. Taylor removing Vicky's shirt, god damn it brain!

"Well, maybe in a few weeks or something. Or maybelater,gottogobye" Amy shot up the stairs. Time to go to the hospital and try to get rid of those thoughts. But hadn't Tay-Firefly told her to relax more often? Yeah, maybe stop at a coffee shop on her way to the hospital.

Good Morning, My Love

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

Amy knew that the last thing she wanted to do, was open her eyes. She just wanted the world to go away. So she ignored the blinding headache. She ignored her body's soreness. She ignored her power as it examined the parahuman girl laying beside her. She ignored the metal band around her ring finger and the matching band around her bedmate's finger as it rested against her bare stomach.

She had had an exceptionally shitty day. Maybe that didn't justify stealing some of Carol's brandy, but Amy had felt she needed it. Then, when the brandy had run out, Amy had felt she needed a bit more. One thing led to another and then another and that led to raiding a Merchant drug house and everything after was pretty much a blur. Amy thought she remembered Legend getting into a fist fight with a winged kangaroo at some point, but that was impossi... Ok, that was totally possible, but really, how likely was that, even with all the strange powers running around.

Maybe if she ignored it hard enough, she wouldn't have to deal with it. Maybe... The girl beside her chose right then to wake up, find she was not alone, and shoot like a bullet into the bathroom, her extreme speed flipping the mattress and dumping Amy on the floor. Fucking perfect.

There was a few moments of confusion as Amy tried to awkwardly push the mattress off of herself before her mystery wife calmly reopened the bathroom door. She set a sedate path across the suite, pick up the mattress and threw it across the room with one hand. Amy finally got a good look at the girl— no, woman's— face.

"Why is Crawler dead in the bathtub?" Director Costa-Brown, or rather, Alexandria while in her costume asked.

Amy took a second to process those words and concluded that they still did not make sense, even with a second consideration. "What."

A scowl marred Rebecca's beautiful -too young— face. "Crawler." She reiterated. "Slaughterhouse member. Adaptive regeneration. Has come back from being nearly atomized before. He's dead. In the bathtub. How?"

Panic started to settle into Amy's gut. What if the rest of the Nine were still around? How did Crawler die in a way that left remains? Was that Skitter passed out on the couch? Why was Skitter passed out on the couch while wearing Lung's mask over her own and the Pope's iconic hat? Rebecca followed Amy's gaze to the couch and glared.

"Hey, you." She called out sternly as she marched over to the sleeping super villain. "Wake up and tell me what the hell is going on!" Amy winced at Rebecca's volume. Skitter just threw her Pope hat at the source of the noise.

"Oh God, why did I let Dinah convince me drinking was a good idea?" Skitter moaned and rubbed her eyes under her mask. "I swear to every god I've never believed in that I'm going to punt the next pre-cog that gives me advice."

Rebecca seethed at being ignored until she processed what the hung over villain had said. She stood incredibly still for a moment before screaming at the top of her lungs, "FUCKING THINKERS!"

Skitter crashed to the floor, holding her ears. "Jesus bitch fuck!" She exclaimed. "Give my ears a fucking break, youuuuu..." Skitter trailed off for a moment as she recognized who she was yelling at. "Mam'." She finished, lamely.

Alexandria blurred in a moment of super speed and Skitter found herself face down with her hands bound behind her back.

"... Really? Fuzzy handcuffs?"

Alexandria blushed a bit but maintained her composure. "We make do with what we have. Please keep in mind that I will take joy in breaking your legs if I see any insects within 100 feet of us."

"Fine." Skitter grumbled. Alexandria ignored her.

"You should get dressed Miss Dallon, I'll be calling in PRT troops to secure the area." Amy blushed as she remembered her nudity.

"Would you... Um... Mind getting my... Underthings down from the fan please?"


* * *

The PRT response was prompt and filled Rebecca with pride. Their words, however, just filled her with rage.

"What do you mean, 'You can't arrest her?'" She shrieked. The poor officer shrank before the legendary hero's anger.

"She was issued a presidential pardon for all crimes, past, present and future for killing Leviathan."

"She did what?!"

"Wait, does that mean I can do whatever I want without legal repercussions?" Everyone stared at Skitter on the ground. "I mean, 'How in the world did I do something so amazing?'" She said with forced awe in her voice. Alexandria glared. The soldier cleared his throat.

"No one is sure. You just showed up at Alexandria and Panacea's wedding, dropped Leviathan's head on the table next to Behemoth's and the Simurgh's and asked, 'Hey, I killed one too, does that mean I can get in on this?'"

Amy paled and asked, "Oh God, I'm not married to her, too, am I?" Skitter made a quick show of checking her fingers for a ring. When one wasn't found, Amy let out an explosive sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God! Uh, no offense."

"None taken. I'm straight." Skitter replied. "Anything else world shaking happen yesterday?"

The soldier gave Skitter a long, strange look. "Mam," He replied evenly, "You three killed the Endbringers 5 days ago."

Love Lift Us Up

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

It had been 20 years since Nilbog changed the world. 20 years since a group of politicians decided they knew better than the Protectorate Thinkers. They dropped their bombs, Nilbog released his revenge. People died in droves in the beginning. It was a horrible, grizzly end, where victims simply began to melt and decompose in horrific agony. It was an airborne virus that, by all accounts, should have wiped humanity from the Earth. These days, Thinkers will tell you that it would have taken 3 hours to kill all life over 6 ounces.

But not even the best Thinker can predict a trigger.

He was later called Sukebe, for lack of a real name and as a friendly nod to his apparent perversion. He was an older, Japanese man that kept mostly to himself. He had no family, no next of kin, not even a girlfriend. Most of what is known about him has been reconstructed by Thinkers in an effort to make sense of the motivations behind his actions. Disagreement abounds, but one fact is undeniable.

Sukebe wanted children.

When he contracted Nilbog's Revenge, he triggered with the ability to control viruses. As his first and last act as a parahuman, he changed the virus ravaging his body to something that would change the body instead of breaking it down. Then he died, because his power made him immune to disease 2 minutes after his skin had begun to liquefy.

Sukebe's Mercy went to work quickly. In roughly half of the population, it worked as intended, countering Nilbog's revenge and granting a near universal enhanced healing factor. In the other half, people began to change dramatically.

Entire species began to emerge from Humanity. From angelic looking Celestials to demonic Infernals to actual Dragons, the transformed humans ran the gambit of nearly every fantasy race ever dreamed of. Officially called 'Metahumans' and unofficially called 'Sukebe's Children' or 'Sukie's, they wielded incredible powers.

But nature never intended for humans to have these kind of bodies, and Subeke didn't have a lot of time to make his creation stable. It quickly became obvious that something was very wrong with the transformed. Rational thought seemed to slowly leave them until they became little more than super powered animal. A solution was swiftly found in the form of 'Taming'.

The ethics of taming have since been debated but the facts remain. Sukies need taming, or they will lose their minds.

Of course, since then, many agencies and organizations have come into being to protect and aid Sukies. With the potential for abuse on both sides of the Tamer/Sukie relationship, any Tamer or Sukie caught harming the other without express, written consent are prosecuted to the full extent of the law. In addition, laws regarding what constitutes pedophilia have been reworked with taming in mind. Though it is technically legal, most people look very poorly on Tamers with much younger Sukies, or vis versa.

Also of interest is the phenomenon known as the delta bond. For reasons no one quite understands, Sukies can form teleempathic bonds with Tamers that they respect and love. Popular media has taken to this concept and romaticized it within an inch of its life.

In conclusion, Metahumans changed society as much as Parahuman before them, maybe more. Only time will show what form humanity will take next.


* * *

Taylor looked at the report in her hands with a smile on her face. She couldn't wait to show her parents and her Tamer! A+! She had gotten a few points off for grammar, but still! The last paper of 8th grade and she aced it!

She rushed to the stairwell, past the sign reminding students that running and flying in the halls was prohibited, down the stairs and out the front.

"Freedom!" She yelled with her arms in the air.

"Sheesh, you dork. It's just school, not prison."

Taylor grinned a little wider. She turned to face the love of her life. "Says you. They don't let you fly places, you can't have sex when you want and you have a state-mandated length of time where you have to be there, so it might as well be." Taylor nodded seriously, as she imparted this grave truth. The silly smile somewhat ruined the image, though.

"Goof." Emma playfully derided, as she pulled Taylor in for a kiss. Taylor met it readily and pulled Emma closer, wrapping both her arms and her downy, white wings. Emma broke the kiss but deepened the embrace. "Mmmm," Emma hummed, "Angels give the best hugs. Naga lovers just don't know what they're talking about." Taylor giggled.

They walked, hand in hand, to Taylor's home by the docks. When they entered, Taylor called out, "Mom! I'm home!" She waited for a beat. "Dad? Anyone home?" Emma gave her a playful smile. "Oh my," Taylor said with an insincere tone, "We appear to be all alone! Whatever shall we do, all by ourselves on a day when we have cause to celebrate? Perhaps we could play a board game or watch the television?"

Emma placed her hands on Taylor's hips and pulled her close. "I think I might know something we could do." She said, breathily.

"Oh?" Taylor responded. "What would that be?"

Emma smiled and pushed Taylor onto the living room couch. Taylor squawked in surprise and pain. Emma's smile quickly morphed into a frown of worry as she realized her blunder. Taylor's wings had bent in an awkward fashion when she fell. Emma quickly helped her up.

"Oh baby, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't think, and I just..." Taylor cut her off.

"It's ok, Emma. I'm fine. Just a bit of a jolt."

"You're sure?" Emma fretted.

"Weeell," The Angel said, drawing out the 'e', "I suppose you could... Kiss it and make it better?"

Emma slowly regained her smile. "Well then, which wing got hurt then?"

Taylor turned around and pulled her long, brown hair out of the way. "The left, between the joint and the base."

Emma traced her fingers lightly along the bone of the wing from the tip, inwards. Taylor shivered at the gentle touch. "Here?" Emma asked as she planted a kiss.

"No." Taylor said. "Lower."

"Here?" Emma kissed the wing again.

"No," Taylor's breath hitched, "a bit lower still."

"Here then." Emma kissed the joint where wing met back, an erogenous zone for nearly all winged humanoids. Taylor was no exception.

"Yes!" She gasped. Emma smiled and took off Taylor's shirt.

"Hmmm. This seems serious. I don't think one kiss is going to make this better. Going to need.. A lot of kisses." She paused. "That sounded way sexier and cooler in my head."

Taylor smiled at her. "I still think you're sexy and cool."

Emma huffed. "You think Mouse Protector and Armsmaster are both sexy and cool."

"They are! For, you know, people our parents age..." Emma laughed as Taylor trailed off.

"Dork." Emma said as she pulled Taylor close to her. Her left hand moved between Taylor's wings and found all those little spots that left Taylor breathless. Her right snaked around Taylor's front and down, into her pants.

Emma wanted to make up for nearly ruining the moment twice, so she kept quite as she played Taylor's body like an instrument. In her opinion, the sounds Taylor made were almost musical, so instrument was appropriate. Her long familiarity with Taylor's body let Emma keep her at the edge of an orgasm. Taylor's breath grew ragged as she tried to push and buck against Emma's hand to gain that last bit of friction to push her over the edge, but Emma would pull away at the last second. It was an old game between the two of them and Taylor knew how to end it.

"Please Emma. I need you in me..." Emma smiled. In an instant, she went from gentle to firm. She bit down on the slope of Taylor's neck, took a firm hold of the Angel's wing and plunged her fingers into Taylor's dripping pussy.

Taylor screamed with pleasure, tensed for a long moment, then fell limply against Emma. The Tamer whispered soft nothings, assurances of love and complements to her beauty, into her lover's ear.


* * *

2 hours later

Annette Hebert opened the front door to her house with only a bit of difficulty and immediately noticed the smell. She wheeled herself into her home as quietly as she could, cursing the small squeak of her chair. She came to the living room and leaned forward, over the couch. There was her daughter and her daughter's Tamer, asleep together with all their clothes on. Annette knew better.

She shook her head. If her mother had caught her having sex at 13, the righteous bitch would have put aside her qualms about corporal punishment and gone for the switch. And rightly so.

Annette sighed. The world had changed so much...

"Good morning, sleepyheads!" Annette called out. Taylor squeaked in surprise and fell off of Emma and then the couch.

"That was mean Mrs. Hebert." Emma said with an impish smile that belied her disapproving tone. Annette wheeled her way around the couch to help her daughter up. She knew how annoying landing on your wings could be.

"You and Taylor are practically married. You can call me Annette or mom, you know." Annette said.

Emma blushed a bit and mumbled, "Still feels a bit too weird..."

"Everyone feels that way about talking to your significant other's parents at first. You get used to it as you get older." Annette started moving towards the kitchen. "What do you two feel like for dinner?"

Taylor's face grew concerned. "I can make dinner, Mom. You go si... Rest." Annette waved her off.

"I'm crippled, not helpless." Annette said, bluntly, before noticing the look on Taylor's face. "You've been a lot of help since the accident, Taylor, but sometimes you just want to cook for your family."

Taylor frowned a little less and said, "Alright, but call if you need anything from up high, Ok?"

Annette smiled and turned towards Taylor fully. She spread her four, luminous, white wings wide and demonstrated a little known fact: Archangels don't need to flap their wings to fly. She hovered in place for a moment, before letting herself sink back into her chair.

Dinner was Chicken Alfredo.


* * *

2 months later

Summer passed by in a blur for the two girls. Taylor fretted over her mother and was sickeningly sweet with Emma in a way only young lovers could manage. Emma, a natural beauty in her own right, landed a modeling job and was sickeningly sweet with Taylor in the way only young lovers can manage. Annette found herself pregnant with a second child and was cranky as hell with everyone in the way only a pregnant woman in a wheelchair can get away with. Danny secretly prayed to whatever deity sent him his precious wife that the new child would be a boy. He couldn't take more estrogen.

These lazy days filled with love seemed like they would last forever.


* * *

Emma and Taylor talked continuously about nothing in particular in the back of Mr. Barns' car. They were on the way back from one of Emma's photo shoots. Emma was complaining about the dorky sweater the cameraman had put her in when the car came to a screeching halt. The girls' seat belts engaged with the sudden force of the stop.

Two cars had come out of a parking lot and were now parked, lengthwise, across the street, blocking them. Alan shifted into reverse but stopped as a pickup pulled out behind him. With growing panic, he put the suburban into drive and tried to escape down the adjacent alley. This path, too was cut off and it began to sink in. They were well and truly trapped.

A young thug in green and red unceremoniously smashed the rear, passenger side window with a bat and reached in to open the door. Emma screamed as she was bodily hauled out of the car.

"Emma!" Taylor screamed as she ripped her seatbelt off and climbed after her. She began to glow with a harsh light, a warning to her enemies as to what was coming for them.

"Ah, ah, ah, girly," the thug tutted as he held a knife to Emma's throat. "Wouldn't want me to slip now." The threat was clear. Taylor gritted her teeth and reigned in her aura. "That's a good girl. Now that we're all acquainted, let's get down to business." He smiled cruelly as a pair of long, spider like legs emerged from his back. "My lovely Tamer over there," he pointed towards the mouth of the alley at an ugly, scarred woman, "doesn't like it when pretty little bitches cross her territory without paying the toll.

"Now there are a couple ways you can pay the toll. The two of you could get on your knees and service the boys. But I notice how you're getting. A pair of rug munchers like you? Nah. Won't go for it. The other option is for the two of you to not be so pretty anymore." Cold dread filled the girls' stomachs as the Orb Weaver gestured with his knife. "So what'll it be?" He pointed the tip of his knife at each feature he named, "Nose? Ears? Lips? Or a single eye? I'd go with the eye personally, but to each his own!"

Emma looked Taylor right in the eyes and said, "I choose the balls." The spider's eyes widened as he rushed to cross his legs, only for Emma to slam the back of her head into his nose. He cursed and grabbed his face. Emma used the opportunity to duck under his arms and out of his grasp. He snarled and reached for her again, only to find Taylor flying directly at his face.

Her fist met his ruined nose with a sickening crunch and a flash of light. His head was launched back and his body followed after. He crashed into the wall of the alley and crumpled to the ground. Taylor panted with the sudden exertion.

A slow clap filled the night air. The scarred woman seemed bored as she gestured lazily to two large men covered in chitinous spines. "Kill them." She said simply.

They stepped forward, their bulk filling the alley. They radiated menace right up until the point where two crossbow bolts pinned their feet to the concrete. The high pitched screaming kind of threw off the atmosphere.

All eyes track the path of the bolts to the rooftop, where a black figure in a cheap, white mask. She, and her femininity was barely recognizable, jumped from the roof, turning to shadow on the way down. She landed with inhuman grace.

"Run, Prey."

Every Metahuman recognized that voice. The voice of another Sukie on the verge of becoming Feral. The voice of someone who will kill and eat you if given the chance.

The thugs ran. The two that were pinned messily pulled the bolts out of their feet and hobbled away as fast as they could. Emma and Taylor stood guard over Mr. Barnes, who had been knocked out by one of the assailants.

The figure in black turned towards the two girls and made a show of studying them. She approached slowly like a stalking lioness. She sniffed the air and her head twitched back and forth between the two of them. After an agonizingly long wait, the near Feral girl slunk over to Emma, violating her personal space. Emma tried to remain calm.

"Strong." The wild girl said. "Afraid, but you didn't let it stop you. Didn't let it rule you. Been looking for someone like you." She paused, as if saying the next bit was painful. "Take me. Please. I'm on the edge. I need." She spat the next words. "To be Tamed. Couldn't lie there for a weakling. Please."

Emma looked to Taylor, the unspoken question asked. Taylor was conflicted. Emma was hers. Had always been hers. But Feralness was a fear common to all Sukies. Taylor steeled her heart and nodded to Emma.

Emma gulped and nodded back. "Ok. We do kinda owe yo-" She was cut off by as the hooded girl tore off her mask and did her best to shove her tongue down Emma's throat. Her hands roamed roughly over the red head's body, grasping and squeezing. "Sophia." She said in a moment of pause, "So you know which name to scream."

"Emma." Was the reply.

With that exchange done, Sophia resumed her molestation of Emma.

Taylor watched with mixed feelings as her Tamer began to have sex with a total stranger. Sophia was pretty, in an athletic sense, all corded muscles and strong curves. Her hood pulled back to reveal pitch black cat ears and her cloak and body suit were soon tossed aside, revealing matching stripes of fur running down her side and back. A long, graceful tail sat above her pert buttocks and flicked back and forth. She was, in a word, hot. As hell even. Jealousy reared its head. Taylor could not just sit here and watch.

Quietly, She snuck up behind the Shadowcat as she moaned her approval of Emma's motions against her soaked panties. Taylor's hands circled underneath Sophia's arms and firmly grabbed ahold of her breasts. Sophia yowled in surprise.

"You didn't think I would just let some strange Sukie fuck my Tamer without me being right here in case you got violent, did you?" Taylor whispered. With Sophia's tail rising up between her legs, Taylor began to grope and tweak. It was too much and Sophia came screaming.

The initial bond between Sukebe's Children and there lovers is intense. Pleasure greater than the orgasm itself suffused Sophia's body, giving her an immense feeling of satisfaction and belonging. Taylor and Emma knew that Sophia would be blissed out and useless for the rest of the night and most of the next day. Getting Tamed was intense like that. They looked around the blocked alley at the broken glass and the unconscious bodies and asked the same question to each other simultaneously.

"Now what?"


* * *

Love Lift Us Up 2

"I won't do it!"

Emma sighed as her harem argued. The months after she had tamed Sophia had been Trying. She had thought that those first few weeks after Taylor thresholded would be the most awkward of her life, full of redefined relationships and new responsibilities. She had been wrong.

"You already fight criminals! It's not that different, you'll just have people to work with you! People to help you!"

Taming Sophia was extremely different from Taming Taylor. Emma had known Taylor since they were babies. Their mothers liked to tell the story of how Zoe had wheeled little three month old Emma down to Annette's house to see the newborn Taylor. Emma literally knew Taylor better than she knew herself. So when their relationship changed from friends to 'Tamer and Sukie', it was just a matter of adding new things to what she knew about Taylor.

"I'm not a Hero, I'm a Vigilante! I'm not the fluffy kitten that wears bows and goes to photo shoot and press releases! I am a dangerous Predator!"

"Sure, you're the terror that flaps in the night and melts into a ball of fluff and purring if you scratch behind her ears just right."

"Like you have room to talk, miss 'I am a righteous angel of wrath unless you have your hand on my wing joint'!"

With Sophia, it felt like she was going backwards. Like she had gotten the Tamer part down and was working towards learning who the girl was before she became a walking ball of fur and fury. Maybe it was the parahuman part of the equation or trauma of being all but disowned by her mother, but Sophia was just not opening up.

"I only do the avenging angel thing when it's important! I like being fluff and sunshine! I honestly don't get why you have to be so prickily all the time. Enjoy the good parts of life then mercilessly eradicate the things that threaten your happiness. Isn't that what everyone wants?"

"...Every time I think I'm about to write you off as a useless feather brain, you say something that involves 'merciless eradication' or 'complete annihilation' and I suddenly remember why I let you be the Alpha."

"First, you are so weird. Second, you don't let me be anything. I'm the Alpha because you like it when I push you down and Tame you."

Sophia smiled wickedly. "Oh, there is nothing 'tame' about you when you finally bare those teeth, Feathers."

Taylor blushed but remained resolute. "Am I going to have to... Press the issue?"

"Not with your baby brother sleeping down the hall you aren't." Emma interjected. "Also, shut up. Taylor, no one is going to force Sophia to do anything, much less join the Wards." Taylor sputtered in protest, but Emma powered through. "Sophia, stop pushing Taylor's buttons. I know that you know how Angels get when it comes to opinions on working outside the law. If you don't stop needling her, I'm going to ask Annette to help you with evasion training. Without your powers."

Sophia paled as she remembered the last time she had pushed Emma when she had made that threat. Sophia had scoffed at the idea of being scared of the paraplegic Archangel. Then came the millions of tiny beams of light. The painful, painful beams of light.

"Sorry, Emma."

"Sorry, Red."

"Damn straight. Now, let's get some dinner."

With the argument quelled, or more likely postponed, Emma got up and headed to the kitchen to begin the arduous task of making a meal for a carnivore and an herbivore.


* * *

"Do you think the girls are getting along?" Danny asked his wife.

"Are two girls in the same harem who are genetically predisposed to having vastly conflicting world views 'getting along'?" Annette asked back. Her husband paused for a moment.

"Ok, better question: Do you think they've set anything on fire?"

"I'm sure everything's fine. Now shut up and watch the previews."

Danny sighed and tried to give the trailer his attention but a million little things nagged him. He couldn't help it, he was a worrier by nature. True, they were fine on money, the settlement from the company who's truck hit Annette saw to that. And his lovely wife had pulled through with grace and perseverance. But there was so much about his life that he never could have imagined before it happened.

His daughter was in a harem, for God's sake. Would his son end up the same way? Emma was a metaphorical angel to his Taylor's literal variety but what were the chances that Nathaniel would find such a perfect match? And if you had told him 20 years ago that he would be all but adopting a troubled cat girl from the mean side of town...

"You've got that look." Annette said, throwing off his train of thought.

"No I don't." He instantly replied. "Which look?"

"The one where you think yourself in circles and wind up with a new ulcer."

"I'm not..." Danny sighed. "It's just, how did life get so crazy?" Annette smiled and kissed him deeply. When they broke the kiss, Annette replied.

"Does it matter? If it was Scion showing up or Sukebe's mercy or the first microbe in the primordial soup, life has always been strange and exciting. Always will be." She kissed him again. 19 years of marriage and she could still light that fire in him with a few words and a kiss.

His hand circled behind her neck to pull her closer. Her hand came down on his thigh and suddenly he was 21 again, making out with his girlfriend in the back of a dark theater. Annette seemed to feel the same as she levitated herself onto his lap from her chair.

Danny's hands roamed over his wife's impossibly perfect body. Full curves and well defined muscles despite more than a year paralyzed. His hands slipped under her blouse to grope her gravity defying breasts. She moaned appretatively against his mouth and pushed harder against him. She reached down to unzip his jeans and pulled his member out. She pushed aside her panties, lined herself up and slowly let herself down.

His breath was hot and heavy as he started bucking upwards, hitting all the spots that drove her wild. The build up was intense and fast. Years of experience allowed both to send the other over the edge like over eager teens.

Which turned out to be a lucky thing as a pimple faced teenager shone a flashlight on them a moment later.

"Um, excuse me, but, um, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to, y'know, leave. We, uh, don't allow... This."


* * *

"Alright, we'll go to Wal-Mart and pretend to shop for a couple hours then we go home and tell the kids that the movie was fine. They will never, ever know otherwise."

Renegade for Life

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

Taylor Hebert hated her life. She hated the hard, stale bread and that people expected a pauper like her to be grateful for it. She hated the rich, snobby assholes in upper Valua. She hated the favoritism that the recruits from rich families got. She hated her sleaze ball Drill Sargent, Gladly and his revolting offers to lighten her workload in exchange for 'favors'.

But most of all, she hated Barnes and her cronies, Hess and Clements.

Taylor didn't know why the three had singled her out. She did her best to blend in, to not make waves. Taylor wanted to be an officer, after all, and you don't rise from grunt to commission by making enemies. So she kept her head down. She tried to wait it out till she could get assigned somewhere far away from the three bitches with a hate on for her. Needless to say, things are never that simple for Taylor.

Her current dilemma came when some of the other recruits invited her out for drinks. She was wary at first, but this group had never been party to the taunts or pranks or shoves, so she agreed. Her fears were soothed further when the handsome Lt. Fennick joined them. After all, the trio had never tried anything in the view of a superior officer. But some little fear niggled at her well honed survival senses.

After a couple rounds, she excused herself to answer natures call. When she returned, something in the mood had changed. Smiles were still present, conversations were held, but it was like everyone was waiting for something. It tweaked her, but she sat down anyways. Taylor grabbed her drink and put it to her lips when she noticed it. Ramses, who had been talking to Jameson, paused and stared slightly as she prepared to take a drink. She put her drink back down.

"Something the matter, Hebert?" Fennick asked politely.

"No sir," She replied, "Just... Feeling that last cup, you know? Think I might head back to the barracks..." Fennick smiled charmingly.

"Don't be such a party pooper, Hebert! At least finish your drink." Taylor shook her head.

"No thanks. I think I might be sick if I do." Fennick's eyes lost some of their joviality.

"Finish your drink Hebert." The room grew quiet.

"...Why do you want me to drink this so badly, sir?"

Fennick dropped all pretenses of merriment and raised his hand above his head. He snapped and everyone in the bar quickly began shuffling out. When the room was empty, save for Taylor and the 3 other recruits, Fennick spoke again.

"When an officer of Valua tells you to do something, Recruit," He spat her rank like a curse, "You do it." He stood. "When I say jump, you jump. When I say bow down, you put your damned head on the damned floor." He walked around the table to loom over Taylor.

"And when I say drink your damned beer, it is generally a good idea to drink it. It would have made this so much more pleasant for you. You would just drift off to sleep and wake up sore tomorrow." He leaned down to grab ahold of her chin.

"But we're past that now aren't we? Now you get to feel it as we take turns destroying your pussy and asshole. And, as befits nobility, I'm going to be the first to bend you over this table and-!"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as Taylor rammed her palm into his chin. The sickening sound of teeth shearing through flesh filled the bar. A full inch of the Lieutenant's tongue hit the floor. He fell backwards in pain and shock, clawing at his mouth in panic. The recruits stared, dumbly at the sudden violence and Taylor took full advantage. She grabbed her glass and, remembering her fair share of bar brawls, shoved it into the closest man's face.

His screams of pain as clutched his glass filled eyes shook his companions out of their stupors and they moved to rush her. Taylor flipped the table to put distance between them and her. She could never take them two on one in a physical contest but she did have something she could do better than everyone else she had ever met. It was the reason the Armada had accepted her in the first place.

Taylor Hebert was almost unnaturally good at magic.

"Moons, give me strength!" She intoned. Neon particles began to cling to her opponents as the spell Drillnos did its work. Their movements slowed and lost force. Ramses attempted to smash her with his chair but she deftly dodged the weakened attack. The path of her dodge brought her in line with her two attackers, setting her up perfectly.

"Moons, give me strength!" She called out the universal chant again. This time, darkness seemed to coalesce at her extended finger before a powerful lance of lightning struck out, skewering both unarmored men. Electres was a spell that could blow holes in a marrocco's hardened shell. Human flesh just vaporized on contact, killing both of Taylor's weakened targets instantly.

Pausing for breath, Taylor surveyed her surroundings. Two men dead, a superior officer stupidly choking on his own blood, and a forth man blinded, curled into a ball and sobbing. 'Yes,' she thought to herself, 'It's time to leave.' She heard shouts coming from outside for the guards. 'Valua. It's time to leave Valua.' She amended.


* * *

Her plan was simple. Find a merchant vessel, stow away and get the hell out of Valua. Naturally, it was doomed to failure.

She did find a merchant vessel on the way out. A small black cruiser with Nasr markings. She stowed away with little issue. There are always unused cabinets and lockers large enough to hold a tall, skinny 17 year old fugitive. She even managed to convince herself that she was comfortable in the small, cramped space. The he ship she was on even passed through customs with relative ease. It seemed word of her murders hadn't spread this far up and then down the chain of command yet.

No, where her plan failed was a little more fundamental than that. She failed to ask one very important question. What would she do if the crew discovered her whilst in the middle of the open sky?

This is how Taylor ended up tied securely with her arms behind her back while the crew of The Undersider discussed what to do with her.

"I say we toss her overboard." The girl with harsh features said.

"Let's not be hasty, Rachel."The first mate, a freckled blonde cautioned. "She might have a use."

"Doing what? Sucking off the Captain? We have enough scrawny weaklings taking a cut." The volatile girl glared at the helmsman as he lazily flipped her the bird. She growled in annoyance.

"Maybe I want her to suck my dick?" The foppish helmsman rebutted, not even taking his eyes off the sky in front of him as he steered. "Moons know I'd never be able to put it in you without getting it bitten off and it would probably shrivel and die from smugness poisoning if I have Lisa a go." Both girls glared at him. He smiled wider. "Why not think about my needs for a change?"

"Because you spend enough time doing that yourself. You don't need help from us." Lisa's smirk came back. "Just from a therapist."

"Ouch!" The helmsman said. "I thought you didn't know pyrulen, cause that was a sick burn! Get me a sacres crystal before it scars!"

"Knock it off you three." Commanded the Captain, a lean, muscular, black man. He cut an imposing figure in his dark leather duster and matching pistol brace. Taylor briefly considered if having to warm his bed was such a steep price. "Look, Miss..." He looked at her expectantly.

"Hebert." She supplied.

"Hebert. Right. Now, I know lower Valua is a shit hole. Believe me I do. But you don't look stupid and you had to know we'd find you. What's waiting for you back there that's worse than an angry crew and a long drop?" Taylor grimaced. No helping it now, she supposed.

"Two, maybe three murder charges where 'They were trying to drug and rape me.' Is trumped by 'I'm poor and they're not.' Well, weren't, I suppose."

The crew stared. Taylor blushed and looked down. The first mate began laughing uproariously. Taylor blushed harder.

"See?" Lisa crowed. "This is why you always find out their story. Ha! Kills two men and leaves the third dying then unknowingly stows away on a pirate ship on a smuggling mission!"

"Lisa!" The Captain admonished.

"Sorry, sorry. I just can't help it! It's too perfect! Now I just have to seduce her and the trashy harlequin romance novel plot is complete!" She collapsed in a fit of giggles and Taylor debated wether she should throw her self over the ship's railing to escape the embarrassment. She decided not to. Barely.

The Captain rubbed his eyes in exasperation and sighed. He turned to address Taylor. "We're not going to turn you into Valua, but you will have to work for your passage. Do you have any useful skills or am I just going to have you on your knees-" Both blondes burst into gales of laughter. "Scrubbing the deck! Get you minds off sex for two seconds!"

Taylor considered her options for a moment and decided that full disclosure had worked so far, so she might as well.

"I'm primarily skilled with yellow magic. I know electri, electres, electrum, driln, and drillnos. I'm still working on electrulen. I'm familiar with Valuan tactics and procedures. I could mark up the current patrol routes on a map but don't expect those to stay the same for very long. I'm passable with the standard shock baton, but I prefer knives or pistols. Beyond that, the Armada doesn't offer shit for training beyond 'go hit that guy with your stick while shouting patriotic slogans.'"

Lisa preempted the usual starring. "You're doing that on purpose now, aren't you?"

Taylor gave a tight smile. "Maybe I am, Miss 'Harlequin'."

Lisa gave Taylor a considering look. "I think you and I are going to get along fine, hon." She smiled. "But I think you've still got one misunderstanding."

Wearily, Taylor asked, "What would that be?"

Lisa grabbed Taylor by the back of the head and pulled her in for a scorching kiss. "I wasn't joking about seducing you."

Taylor stared blankly off into the distance as Lisa sashayed past the bound girl and into the crew quarters. The Captain sighed and began to untie Taylor.

"Right. So, introductions. That was our First Mate and Informations officer, Lisa Wilborne. This is Raider Rachel Lindt and Helmsman Alec..."

Alec gave the Captain a strange look. Then he raised an eye brow. "Did you forget my last name?"

"No. I just... It's right on the tip of my tongue!"

"You did! What kind of horrible Captain forgets his crew's names? You only had to remember three of them!" It was clear by Alec's mocking tone that he didn't care that much beyond the chance to rib his boss.

"Just tell her your name."

"Using the new girl to cover for your callousness? Classy. Just for that, I'm not going to tell you."

"Just... Fine." The captain admitted defeat and the helmsman preened. "I'm Captain Brian Laborn. We're the crew of the pirate ship The Undersider. Welcome to our little madhouse."

Dennis vs. Nightmares

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

Dennis woke screaming. He heard the door open and turned to see Carlos entering his room.

"Dennis? I heard screaming. What's wrong?"

"I had a nightmare. A horrible, horrible nightmare!"

Carlos raised his eyebrow. "I know we've seen some messed up shit, but what could make you scream like that? You damn near woke the dead."

"Skitter and Jack Slash. Procreating. She gave birth to Spider-Antichrist. Then Bonesaw nudged Siberian and asked, 'Kinda makes you want to have one of your own, doesn't it?' Then the Siberian looked at me and smiled and there were bones in her teeth!" Dennis began to hyperventilate.

"Calm down Dennis. Look, it's not like the S9 are anywhere near here. Your safe."

Dennis smiled wanely. "Yeah. It's not like Skitter and Jack Slash will ever meet and, you know, meat."

"God damn it, Dennis."


* * *

2 weeks later

Dennis pushed himself up, broken glass sliding off his back.

"No." He said in denial.

"Was that Shatterbird?" Vista asked.

"No!" He said again.

"Which means the Slaughterhouse 9 are in town." Miss Militia said gravely.

"We need to-" Weld began, but Dennis cut him off.

"I won't become The Siberian's baby daddy! I have to stop the Spider-Antichrist from being born! I have to kill Jack before he can knock up Skitter and doom us all!" And with that, Dennis ran out of the building to find and confront Jack Slash.

The remaining Heroes all looked at each other, all knowing that the same question ran through the others head.

"What the fuck?"


* * *

3 months later

"...and being awarded the congressional Medal of Honor for single handedly wiping out the Slaughterhouse Nine:" the speaker flinched a bit as he read the name, "Clockblocker."

Basic Attraction

(Автор: volantredx)

A lot of people think that the graveyard shift was the worst time for monitor duty. Dennis had to disagree. There was always something happening late at night. No, if Dennis had to pick he'd say the worst time was 3-6 pm. Nothing ever happened. He spent most of the time completely checked out.

A giggle from the other end of the bench drew his attention. The Ward's newest transfer, Fletchette who was sent to replace Vista after the younger girl's family moved out West. Dennis liked Fletchette, between her nice attitude and her experience she made a great addition to the team. The one issue was he wasn't the only one to think so.

Shadow Stalker, the team's resident lunatic, took a shine to the other girl. Dennis didn't know if it had anything to do with the red head shooting her down or what but the two of them really hit it off. Was it any other girl Dennis wouldn't have thought about it, except for late at night in his bedroom alone. But this was Sophia and Lily. It was weird. He couldn't understand it at all. He was sort of morbidly curious.

"What do you see in her?" It took him a second to realize he asked that out loud.

"You mean Sophia?" Lilly responded.

"Yeah," he knew he shouldn't let his curiosity get the better of him. Sophia would kill him if he pissed off Lilly. That is if Lilly didn't get to him first. "She's not exactly someone I could see wanting to be around."

"I dunno," the girl shrugged. "There are lots of reasons. She's not as bad as she likes to pretend. You just have to be patient with her. Besides she has her good qualities."

Dennis doubted that, but he wasn't dumb enough to say it.

"Like what?" Though he could have his moments of stupidity.

"Well, you've seen her out of costume. An ass like that makes up for a lot of crazy."

"Really? That's the thing you like most? Her ass?" That... wasn't what he was expecting.

"Well yeah. That and her legs that go on for miles. And her abs. Can't forget those." She was starting to blush a bit. Not that Dennis wasn't feeling a bit hot around the collar.

"So she's hot. That makes up for the temper? The violence? All that good stuff?"

"And well one other thing" She leaned closer and lowered her voice. "you know that track thing? That's real. I thought it was just cover but she really runs all the time. Her stamina is unbelievable. I have trouble keeping up sometimes. It's like fucking a race horse."

Ok so this officially hit TMI levels. Then at peak awkwardness another voice came over the coms.

"You know you guys left the radio on right?" The unmistakable voice of Shadow Stalker. She sounded pissed. "I'm heading back. Lilly meet me in my room. We need to have a talk about sharing. Then you're going to spend all night earning my forgiveness."

Lilly for her part didn't seem too concerned about earning back her girlfriend's good grace. Dennis would even say she looked eager.

"And Duffus." Dennis swallowed thickly at her tone. She managed to make herself sound even more pissed. "If I hear one word of this from the other morons I'm gonna um, what's it called when they cut off guy's dicks?"

"Castrate?"

"Thank you Lilly. I'm going to castrate you. Ya got it?"

"Yeah. Sure thing." He said.

The teen vigilante shut her com off at that. The other two heroes sat there awkwardly for a moment. Then Lilly began to rise.

"I'm going to grab an energy bar and some Gateraide. If I'm lucky I can finish it before Sophia gets back. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night."

Dennis nodded at that. She gave him one last smile before leaving.

'Well tonight's dreams sure are going to be interesting.' He thought.


* * *

Lily guessed it must have been almost two in the morning. However she couldn't sleep despite the rather vigorous workout her bed mate and her just had. For her part Sophia was fast asleep. The sheets had become quite tangled and almost her whole back was exposed. Idlelly Lily's hand started to trace patterns on the other girl's back. Her lover's skin was deceptively soft but Lily could feel the tight corded muscle underneath. Occasionally she'd run a finger over a scar, moments from before Sophia had access to the kinds of body armor the Wards wore.

'What am I doing?' That question had been running in her head all night. It was one Lily still couldn't answer. She normally wasn't the kind of girl to jump right into bed, and her life didn't leave a lot of room for commitment. Still she had a few moments of closeness, but they were fleeting things. What she and Sophia had, or seemed to have, was wholly new.

Lily didn't have any real illusions. She knew how Sophia could be and knew that when this started that she saw Lily as a way to experiment. Explore something she really only started to know she wanted. Lily supposed that she should have turned her away, been the responsible one in all this. Still part of her wanted to be selfish, just this once. Sophia was everything that Lily wasn't. Brash and bold. All fire and passion. So much of that was misdirected. Her anger, the raw hate she seemed to have for so many. Lily was only now getting to know why. What made Sophia the way she was, and it broke her heart.

Maybe that was it? Some part of her felt drawn to Sophia as someone she could fix. Lily knew what it was to be lonely in a crowd. Sophia had so few lines left to keep her tied to people. The other Wards couldn't stand her, Lily had heard what they said behind the girl's back. And the girl Sophia loved, maybe even still loves. The teen knew a bit of the story and had seen it play out enough times to fill in the blanks. No freak outs, no declarations of hate. Just a little more distance. An invisible curtain between them now. Sophia needed someone, anyone, to help her hold her head above water. To keep her from becoming the kind person the two of them fought.

That much Lily could hold to. No matter her faults Sophia was a hero. She was even trying, Lily knew, to be the kind of person that she knew she could be.

And that's what scared her. Before Lily thought she knew where they stood. Just a bit of fun between the two of them. A chance for them to explore things about themselves. But this? This was starting to really feel like it meant something. The way Lily would catch Sophia stopping herself from saying something or doing something, the little glance after that the other girl didn't think she'd catch. Lily was changing too. She'd find herself hearing Sophia's voice in her head. Telling her not to back down or give in just to be nice. Would catch herself think about what Sophia would think about an outfit, or a hairstyle, or other little things Lily never used to worry about. All of this was starting to feel far more real than it was supposed to.

"That tickles," Sophia mumbled into the pillow. Startled Lily drew her hand back.

"Oh, gosh sorry." She could feel her cheeks redden. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"'s fine. What's keeping you up?"

"Nothing, just thinking."

"hmm well you should get some sleep." Sophia buried her head back into the pillow.

Lily started to join her when a thought ran through her mind. It was silly and crazy...but if what they had was becoming real maybe they should try and make it real.

"Hey Sophia."

"Hmm?"

"Ask me out." Lily felt a giddiness rise in her chest.

"...what?" Her bed mate asked confused.

"Ask me out. On a date."

"Umm...why?"

"Just do it. Please, for me? We've been, well together for almost two months now and we've never been out together."

"We go out all the time." Sophia insisted. This was starting to feel like a bad idea to Lily.

"Hanging out with your friends is not a date." Sophia started to respond, "and before you say it beating up Nazis together doesn't count as a date either."

"Sounds like the best kind of date." The other girl smirked. Then her smile fell. "This is really important to you isn't it?"

Was it? It started as just a stray thought. Now though Lily could feel her heart raise at the thought.

"Yes," she answered. "Yes it is."

"...alright, um would you ah would you maybe want to get a movie this Friday?" Sophia's complexion darkened with a blush.

"Yes. That sounds great." Lily felt a warmth spread from her chest outward until her fingers and toes felt warm.

"Right, good. I see you at seven?"

instead of an answer Lily lightly kissed Sophia. It was unlike any kiss they had before. Those were pure lust, just animal instinct. This was something else entirely. If what they had becoming real meant every kiss would be this good then Lily wished they had done it sooner.

"Wow," was all she could say when they pulled apart.

"Yeah that was, something." Sophia shot Lily a mischievous glance, "but now I'm not sleepy. Any ideas on how we can fix that?"

"I may have a few." She said leaning in for another kiss as Sophia pulled herself on top of the other girl's body. Lily would soon learn that kissing wasn't the only thing that got better.

Taylor / Rachel

(Автор: CptTagon)

I had finished all the paperwork for the day, and was relaxing in a hot, scented bath. Not even Golden Morning could stamp out the bureaucracy, it seemed. Still, things were getting better. Factories were opening, kids were being born, all the fun stuff civilization needed. Most importantly though, hot water was available. I leaned against the back of the tub and closed my eyes. It had been a long day, at the end of a long week, at the end of a long month. At least I hadn't had to use my power too much, and only had the faint beginnings of a migraine nibbling at my head. Even half a year after poor Taylor had beaten Scion; I was still putting out fires, trying to wrangle the remaining Undersiders into doing their part. But at least everything had been taken care of for tonight.

The door to my bathroom slammed open. I yelped and started to stand, reaching for my holstered gun resting with the rest of my clothes. I only stopped when I saw that the person who had barged in was Rachel, with Bastard on her heels. She looked angry, but then again, Rachel usually looked angry. Since she wasn't wearing her mask, she was probably here as Rachel, not Bitch. She had something clutched in her hand.

"God, Rachel, knock next time!" I sunk back into the bath, glad that that the waterline covered my breasts. She shot a cursory glance at my chest, then went right back to staring at my face.

"You've got nothing I don't see in the mirror. I need you to make tell me who to punch." She tossed me what she was carrying. I caught it in my hand, saw that it was a book, and quickly put it on the bathtub side. I stood up, grabbed a towel and dried off. Putting on a bathrobe, I grabbed the book again. It was a paperback, probably some two hundred pages. On the cover — oh my god the cover.

A large, buff woman was holding another woman up. The first woman had dirty blonde hair and a square face. She was wearing a half-closed leather vest that barely kept her large breasts in check. Glancing between Rachel and the cover, I could see the resemblance. Like the resemblance between a toddler's painting and the real world. The girl on the cover was wearing makeup, had shiny hair and all in all looked like the kind of girl Rachel hated, and would never, ever, understand or want to be like.

Looking at the second girl was even more hilarious. The long brown hair, glasses and dark bodysuit meant it had to be Taylor, though Taylor never had C-cup boobs or any of the other enhancements the cover artist had given her, like the pouting lips or the hourglass figure. The title of the book was Animals in the Night by Jasmine Willis.

I almost burst out laughing, before a glance at Rachel's face convinced me that would be a painfully stupid thing to do.

"Where on earth did you find this? I know you don't like bookstores or anything."

"Took Biter and Cassie into the city. She found this piece of shit on a stall. Showed it to me and told me what it was about." She started pacing up and down my bathroom, while Bastard rested his head on his paws.

"Need you to find out who wrote this. Fucking spits on Taylor, making her some weak little shit I boss around. Tell me the name, and Bastard will give him the scare of his life."

I was rather surprised at Rachel's vehemence, but she did have a point about how this was treating Taylor's memory. I relaxed the walls on my power, and took a look. Book written for paycheck, not inspiration. Author has never seen Skitter. Author has never seen Bitch. Author has never been to Brockton Bay. Author used fake name. Author is Daniel Forrestor of Montreal.

"Well, Rachel, the good news is that I know who wrote it. The bad news is that he lives really far away, and you can't go around setting the pack on people." Seeing her go from angry to angrier, I quickly follow-up.

"But we can hurt him in other ways. Give me some time, and I'll think of something really humiliating we can pull." I shot her a closed mouth smile

"Fine." Rachel turned around and left, Bastard following her. I debated whether to finish my bath, but a toe dipped in indicated it was only lukewarm now. Well, time to think of how to ruin the life of some meddling hack.

Parental Pride

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

It's been a long week, for everybody, really. As Jack Slash propped himself up against the ruined wall, he contemplated the girl in front of him, Skitter. Something about her nagged at his memory, a vague sense of dИjЮ vu tickling the edge of his awareness. When he had first met her, she promised him a fight, that his Nine would pull back stumps if they reached too far in this city. Maybe that was it. He had heard an endless litany of such threats in his time as North America's Most Wanted (Dead Only), and they began to run together after a while.

But where others were bluster, Skitter had delivered! And in such interesting ways, too! Burnscar was pulverized, teleported right into the path of that druggie tinker's invisible tank. Hatchet Face went down to one of the Wards. Turns out that the previous modifications the boy had used to make himself into a walking pile of muscle hadn't worn off when he stepped into Hatchet Face's Null field. Cherish and little Riley were nowhere to be found and someone had managed to replicate Greyboy's time bubbles with tinker tech and used it on Crawler. And the rest...

Skitter had taken down Shatterbird, William, and Mannequin. He understood how she could have killed Shatterbird and even Manton with insect control. Once you discovered that the Siberian was just a projection, well, the good professor was as vulnerable to spider venom as the next man. Shatterbird, for all her control and power, could still be taken by surprise, but the point Jack stuck upon was that he could not figure out how she beat Mannequin. He supposed that it didn't matter now that she was about to take his life, but it bugged him almost as much as the feeling that he knew her somehow.

She limped towards him with a shotgun in one hand and the other dangling at her side. The battles had taken their tolls and she was not unscathed. Her armored costume was bloody and ragged, the left lens of her mask was gone, showing her hauntingly familiar eyes and her beautiful hair was dirty and tangled. The sight of her hair sparked something, a long forgotten memory followed by a pulse of his power. Jack Slash grinned, this was too good!

"How is Annette, by the way?" She stopped dead.

"What."

"Your mother, dear thing. Met her once, a long, long time ago, about 16 years back. Such a delightful woman. It took me a bit, far too long if I'm being honest, to place why you seemed so familiar. It's your hair, you get it from your mother."

"She's dead. Car accident a couple years ago. I'd ask you to say 'hi' for me but you're not going anywhere near the where she is now." Skitter pumped the shotgun with her good hand and Jack's face fell.

"That's... Well damn. Kinda ruins what I was going to say next. You have my condolences."

Skitter paused for a moment and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "You, Jack Slash, murderhobo extraordinaire, want me to believe that you feel sorry for, for, anything? Much less, my mother's death? What the actual fuck?"

Jack smirked, wryly. "What? A man's not allowed to feel regret when a former lover dies? Sure, it was just for a few days, but I feel entitled to that much, at least."

Skitter shook her head wildly. "No. No, I call bullshit. If only for the reason that that puts you in a position to be my father and that's not something..." She trailed off with a shudder of revulsion.

"Think about it. Think about your ability to lead, your ruthlessness. How about this; Brutally effective leader of a criminal group of parahumans with a seemingly weak power that, never the less, curb stomps those above his/her weight class. Which one of us does this describe?"

"Is this the part where you tell me to join you and rule the world as murderhobo and daughter? Because I'm not buying it ." She raised the shotgun. Jack's smile softened.

"Heh, thought not. I'm proud of-" the gun barked out a sharp report and Jack's lifeless body slid down the brick. Despite the upper half of his head being gone, his content smile was still there. Not even a 12-gauge could wipe it off.

What a Nice Guy!

(Автор: Darik29)

Taylor had known today was going to suck. Yesterday, after the Trio had managed to get her to sit on super glue, she'd gotten home only to discover her pants were unsalvageable, the super glue not coming off no matter what she tried. She'd been so frustrated, she'd actually forgotten to do laundry, forcing her to wear a Skirt off all things. Normally she would just use a set of pants from the pile, but somehow, all of her current choices were either to rank to pass muster, or had some form of identifying stain on them. So she had been forced to go into the back of her closet, and pick out one of the few skirts she owned, as a last resort. Knee-length, the skirt looked a little like something worn in old music videos, but beggars can't be choosers.

One bus ride later, Taylor was proven correct in her hunch when the hangers on of the Trio proved Especially vicious, commenting on her chicken legs, how slutty the skirt made her look, how prudish she was for wearing such a long skirt. They actively contradicted themselves in their insults, but they didn't care, they just wanted to hurt her. After a particularly vicious comment from Emma in the halls, Taylor had had enough. She couldn't deal with school today. So she left, in the break between second and third period, just headed for the bus. She knew she couldn't stay at school today, else Something would break, and she didn't want to give the Trio the satisfaction.

When the bus finally arrived, it was almost empty. There was an old lady in the front, sitting as close to the exit as possible, and an average looking man sitting in the middle. Taylor headed for the back, planning to spend a few circuits on the bus before getting of at her house. Leaning back in her seat, Taylor watched the world pass outside the window, just letting everything blur.

"Excuse me," called a voice. Taylor startled, so caught up in her staring that she completely missed someone approaching her. She turned to look, and there was the man from the middle of the bus, sitting next to her.

"I can't help but notice you seem remarkably down. Mind telling me what's wrong?"

Now, if any other person had asked her this, Taylor would have blown them off. In particular, some strange man on the bus coming up to her and asking her her problems would have her on the defensive immediately. But this man, somehow, Taylor knew she could trust him utterly.

"... My best friend-" Taylor started, before the man interrupts. " I'm sorry dear, I can't seem to hear you. Could you speak up a bit?"

" I said, my ex-best friend-" The man interrupts again, this time even more apologetic than before. "I'm sorry dear, I think my hearing might well be going. Would you mind sitting on my lap while you tell me your problems?"

Taylor could see nothing wrong with this request, and was moving to relocate when the man stopped her. Instead of having her move to him, he had her stand up, scooted underneath where she had been sitting in the back corner, and sat her down on his laps, hands circling her waist apparently at ease.

"Ah, much better dear. Now then, you were saying?"

Taylor then restarted her speech, telling the man about how her Best Friend Emma had turned against her one summer, turning her out in favor of another, and then spending the entire Year making her life a living hell. The man sat and listened attentively, face open and caring. Of course, throughout the story, his hands had moved, going from holding her waist to exploring her body. He started by rubbing her chest from the outside, feeling the lumps that barely qualified as breasts, before moving down and up, sliding his hands under her shirt to cup her breasts directly, toying with her nipples. Taylor had trouble speaking at this point, but the man was completely trustworthy, and he'd asked her to tell him her problems. And well, of course he was feeling her up while she sat on his lap. That was perfectly natural, wasn't it?

By the time the man had reached under her skirt to begin rubbing at her mound through her panties, Taylor had managed to string out most of her biggest issues, and was now going through the many and varied tortures visited on her on a daily basis.

"-and of course Mr. Gladly doesn't do a single t-thing to stop it, he's one of the popular teachers, he's got to look out for his repute-"Once more, after several minutes of venting, Taylor is interrupted.

"That sounds terrible dear, but I have a question.", says the nice man. His head is resting on her shoulder, Taylor having leaned back so he could hear her better, and to give him better access to her body. By this point, Taylor was actually quite flushed, both from her quiet breakdown over whats been happening to her, and the man's hands rubbing and prodding her in all the right ways.

"Is it normal for your panties to be so soaked?" asks the man. Taylor flushes brilliantly, knowing the man would notice how his actions had been affecting her, but unable to stop him.

"I-I I'm sorry, its just..." Taylor stops, unable to continue her sentence. Not because she cannot think of how to continue, but because the mans hands really Do feel that good, rubbing her lower lips, teasing her body in just the right way.

"It's no trouble dear. Your problems sound terrible, simply horrible. I'd love to hear more about them, but first, I think you should remove these wet panties before they stain your skirt." The mans voice is reasonable, believable, and yet... Something feels off. Taylor can't tell, exactly, but Something feels wrong. She asks the man, " But where would I put my panties, if there soaked through? And wouldn't removing them just stain my skirt directly?"

Taylor wasn't exactly sure why she was arguing with the man, but his laughter eased her fears. Surely, he would say something that would make everything better?

"My dear, you are a treat. Still able to think? How rare." Taylor was confused by the mans words, but then he started talking and she stopeed being confused.

"Girl, Stand up for me will you?" Taylor complied, standing up from the mans lap, face towards the front of the bus. The old lady was gone, and the bus was starting to fill up a little, but nobody was paying any attention to the two of them in the back corner. Taylor could feel the mans hands reach up her skirt, pull down her panties, and set them aside. She helped, of course, lifting her legs so he could remove the stained cloth, before the man pulled her back down slowly. He lifted her skirt as she sat, so that nothing would be between her bottom and his jean covered crotch. Only, as Taylor sat down, she realized the man had at some point opened his pants, his dick sticking straight up into the air outside his pants. She sat anyway, the mans dick sliding across her pussy lips, causing her to shudder at the heat and the friction. Taylor was somewhat confused now, wasn't she telling the man all about her problems?

"Now girl," panted the man. He seemed quite agitated, his breath coming out harsher, his hands seeming to tremble a little as they massaged her breasts. " I feel as if you've had a bad year, and I've just the thing to make it better!"

"Whats that?" Asks Taylor, panting a little herself as the man starts grinding his dick up against her, rubbing himself right on her clit, which was exposed from all the stimulation she'd been going through.

" I feel as if everything would feel better for you after a nice fuck. How about it?" The man says eagerly, not quite mauling her tits, but coming close. At this point he's somehow unhooked and removed Taylors bra from under her shirt and setting it aside, his hands underneath her shirt, gripping her breasts directly. Taylor moaned, the sensations unlike anything she'd felt in her life, but even still, something was troubling her. Was she forgetting something? Oh wait.

"I-isn't, I-isn't doing something like this, in p-public, wrong?" Taylor manages to squeak out, the wonderful feeling of the mans hands combined with his rock hard erection rubbing all over her pussy causing her to flush up even more. The man snickers at this point, almost outright laughing, before managing to get ahold of himself. He leans forward, adding a delightful twist to his fingers on her nipples, and whispers into Taylors ears. "Girl, if your so worried about being caught, then don't make a sound."

So saying, the man's patience wears out. He has Taylor stand up a bit, which she complies with nervously, while the man grabs himself and lines up his shaft with the girls incredibly moist opening. Rubbing himself against her a bit to get things lubricated, the man suddenly yanks down, forcing himself deep within Taylor, who sort of yelps at the rude entrance, and nearly screams as the mans thrust pierces her cherry in one go.

"Oh maaaaan," the man sighs out, thrusting himself up a little before settling, allowing Taylor to get used to being stretched around his dick. "I'll admit, girl, your pussy is top quality. A+, even. Sure, you don't have tits to speak of, but we can work on that later." Taylor is too busy panting, her breathing the only thing preventing her from crying out at the mans sudden entry, and sheer size. She has never felt anything quite like this before, and the feeling is enough to get her to completely miss how suddenly the man's voice has changed from a caring mask to simply using her. Taylor squeaks a little, as the man pulls her back by her breasts, leaning her on his chest with his dick buried inside her.

"Hey now girlie, I know your new at this, but come on. move your hips a little, to feel real good." The mans voice is firm, and Taylor obliges. At first, she moves slowly, grinding her hips forward and back, moving the dick around inside her enough to get some appreciative grunts from the man shes riding. then, after a minute of back and forths, the bus shifts. The driver hits a pothole, causing Taylor to bounce, the mans dick sliding half way out and back in, quick as a flash. They both groan in unision then, the pleasure of that one thrust incredibly intense.

Without prompting, Taylor starts to bounce. She leans forward, hands grasping the seat in front of her, and begins shaking her hips up and down, loving the feeling of this huge dick getting shoved in and out of her. The man shes riding has at this point leaned back, swearing softly under his breath about who knows what, hands clasped tightly to Taylors hips as she rides him for all he's worth.

Suddenly, as she's working her pussy on the mans shaft, Taylor hears the Bus driver call out a stop. A stop only three awa y from her own! Quickly realizing this, Taylor stops her bouncing and sits up, turning a little to face the man. " A-ah, Sorry, but my stop is coming up." Taylor manages to pant out. Now sitting up, shes no longer able to shake her hips as she was before, but shes enjoying the massive dick inside her too much to totally stop moving, and is bouncing up and down a bit, to keep things going.

"Shit." Says the man. "Girl, your pussy's too good, I just can't give you up that easy, but I'm close. Tell you what, Ungh," the man grunts as he liftsTaylor up, slamming her down on his dick, driving deep inside her. " You help me finish off, then I can come to your house and fuck you all night long. Sound good?" The man says as he begins thrusting up inside of Taylor.

Taylor simply nods and moans, the mans tool filling her up so good. She moves with the man, his hands guiding her hips, bouncing on his lap with wild abandon. They're both covered in sweat by this point, the grunts and moans of sex filling the air as they enter the final stretch.

Breathing rapidly, Taylor clenches up her pussy, grinding down on each bounce, driving him deeper and deeper, hoping to reach that final, glorious burn she can feel just out of reach....

When the man gasps, grabs her hips, and slams her down one final time, thrusting himself deep inside her as he starts to swell up. Grinding into her, cramming himself as deep as he can go, the man starts groaning aloud as he cums, spewing jet after jet of seed deep inside of Taylor's willing pussy. The man continues groaning as, with one last thrust, he empties himself inside the girl, before finally relaxing back.

For Taylors part, the swelling dick and warmth of cum was almost, almost enough to get her off. Unfortunately, the man finished before she could, and as his dick began to soften, Taylor frantically started squeezing it, milking it for all it was worth with her pussy. The mans groaning again, his dick still semi hard, and its just enough for Taylor to get off. She starts to scream, before frantically biting into the seat in front of her, remembering the mans order not to make noise. Its as shes coming that the man gets back a second wind, his dick returning to steel, enjoying the feeling of the girl spasming all over his cock as she cums.

Finally, the girls spent. She leans forward, resting her head on the seat and basking in the after glow. the feel of the mans warm cum, and his still hard shaft, is wonderful to the now no longer virgin girl. Not even the feeling of something being terribly, horrifyingly wrong can breech the feelings of bliss.

" Hey girl,' says the man, now simply enjoying the feeling of a pussy wrapped around his dick after his first climax. He starts rubbing up and down Taylors back as he asks, "Wasn't your stop coming up soon?"

Taylor wakes up at that, the amazing feeling only slightly dispelling as she looks up. She notices that they've somehow managed to miss her stop entirely. When she says this to the man, he merely smiles, grabs her hips, and gives a little thrust, to Taylors gasp of pleasure.

"Well then," Smirks the man, already starting to bounce Taylor on his recovered shaft, "It seems we have some time to kill...."


* * *

The bus ride home took almost an hour, having to wait for the bus to finish its circuit and go back around to Taylor's stop. During that time, she'd grown Intimately familiar with the man,"Call me Nice Guy," and was more than willing to bring him home to ask her father for a place to stay. Of course, during the time they had on the bus, Nice Guy had been kind enough to fuck himself to orgasm inside her pussy four more times, and then spent the rest of the trip teaching her how to properly give a blow job, using some of the other riders on the bus as assistants. He would have used himself as the tester, but he said he wanted her to have some experience before he trusted her mouth anywhere near his shaft, and she was only too happy to oblige. Of course, random strangers didn't have Nice Guys stamina, and after the sixth one only managed to last a few minutes under Taylor's mouth, Nice Guy had told her to stop, and had her simply sit down and rest until they got to her stop, occasionally having her masturbate to orgasm for his amusement.

By the time Taylor's stop had come around again, she was a mess. She'd lost most of her clothing to Nice Guy's fun, and her body was absolutely Glowing with pleasure. Her pussy lips had a simply indecent stream of cum leaking down her thighs, and her face and chest had a few splatters of cum from her practice partners, but not too much thanks to Nice Guy teaching her to swallow. Now that they were getting ready to depart the bus, Nice Guy had her get dressed again, though he still wouldn't let her put her panties back on, since they might have gotten soaked through. As they left the bus, Nice Guy had her stop and give the bus driver a reward blowjob. After all, he'd been at the front of the bus Watching everything that had gone on, and he deserved to be rewarded for his professionalism! At least, that's what Nice Guy said, and the bus driver was to busy swearing and jamming his tool down Taylor's throat to disagree. When he finally finished, Taylor swallowed every drop, just as she'd been told to do, and got off the bus with Nice Guy.

The bus stop for her house was actually a few blocks away, so Taylor had some time to think while she walked home, Nice Guy in tow. This morning, she'd honestly believed today was going to be terrible, and sure the morning had been. But after meeting Nice Guy, Taylor honestly couldn't imagine having a better time! Sure, she'd been a bit wary of him at first, but after a long session of venting about her problems, and Nice Guy talking with her, she felt better than she could ever remember! Of course, these thoughts managed to buoy her up, and carry her all the way to her front porch.

"Dad, I'm home!" cried Taylor, as she opened the front door and walked inside. Nice Guy followed in behind, locking the door and setting down his backpack on the couch. Dad was apparently not home yet, but a note on the fridge explained his absence. There'd been an incident down at the docks, several dock workers having been injured somehow, and Dad had needed to stay behind to help look out for them. The note said he wouldn't be home until incredibly late tonight, and not to worry. Of course, Taylor immediately showed the note to Nice Guy, who had asked to know where her family was.

"So girl," asks Nice Guy, casually raiding the fridge for food,"you sure your dad ain't getting home till late? And what about your mom? Siblings, extended family, friends?" The man asks while casually taking a sniff of some old beer, deciding to drink it anyway and taking a sip.

"Yes Sir, my dad's the manager for the Dockworker's Union, and he takes his job very seriously. As for family, my m-mother's..." Here Taylor breaks off, not even over an hour of exposure to Nice Guy able to stop her from the feelings generated by her mothers death.

"Hey, quit that, no crying. So your mom's dead then? Alright, what about any other family? Or hell, friends? Particularly any female friends?" Nice Guy asks.

"Yes Sir, my mother is dead. And no, there's no other family. Or friends." Taylor replies immediately, sorrow forgotten in the face of Nice Guy's order.

"Huh. Almost totally isolated, life's been hell for a while, surprised you haven't broke yet. Eh. Food here's good, if sparse, and you've got a Fantastic pussy an' mouth, so I guess this place is home for now. Speaking of which, shouldn't you be naked inside your own home? Your forbidden to wear anything by yourself inside, after all." Nice Guy mentions conversationally, while he finishes his beer and digs into the leftover spaghetti.

Immediately, Taylor begins stripping down, piling her clothes in the laundry basket to be washed later. Immediately afterwards, Nice Guy tells her to go clean up in the shower then come right back, because she looks disgusting. And he wants her to be extra sure to clean off all the gunk, because he doesn't feel like touching another man's cum anytime soon. Taylor immediately does as she's bid, the sound of the local news coming on as she enters the shower. It takes her a little while to get rid of all the cum, mostly because of the streams of the stuff that keep leaking out of her pussy, but eventually she's managed to remove the last streak, and immediately after she finishes drying off she heads back downstairs, as Nice Guy asked her to do.

Downstairs, she finds Nice Guy sitting on the couch sans pants, sporting an impressive erection while drinking another beer, and watching the local news. There seems to be a bit of an uproar on the news, as apparently there was an accident down at the docks, several misplaced barrels of chemicals somehow having been lit off in a warehouse, with workers trapped inside. Nice Guy starts snickering when the News Anchor talks about how several workers are at deaths door, but abruptly stops laughing when the News Anchor continues to speak about how Panacea was able to prevent any deaths or serious consequences. Muttering to himself and reaching for his backpack, its only then that Nice Guy notices Taylor standing quietly next to the couch, still naked and now clean, her body on display for him. Her breasts, though present, were on the small side, and there wasn't a hint of muscle to speak of. Her pussy, however, had remarkably light hair surrounding it, and she seemed to be waiting for him.

"Girl, kneel in front of me, will ya?" Grunts Nice Guy, now rifling through his pack, erection bobbling in the air. Taylor did as asked, staring straight ahead at Nice Guy's dick. It was rather impressively sized, in her inexpert opinion, and after bringing her to several orgasms, she felt justified in feeling a bit embarrassed at simply staring at it. With a small shout of triumph, Nice Guy pulls a small notepad from his pack, pen clutched firmly in his other hand. Siting back down, he turns to the girl, notepad up and waiting for notes.

"Hey girl, got a couple questions for you about local capes and such. Mind blowing me while I ask?" states Nice Guy almost casually, already starting to jot down words in his notepad.

"No problem Sir." Says Taylor, and immediately suits words to deed. Leaning forward, Taylor begins the blowjob with a long, slow lick, from base to tip. She works her tongue around the head for a little, before working her way back down to suck on Nice Guy's balls.

"Shit, you learn fast. Gonna need to give your old man a reward when he gets home, him having raised such a wonderful cocksucker. Ungh. Yeah, that's the spot, girl, right there..." Nice Guy's speech drifts off, simply relaxing into the blow job as Taylor's newly trained tounge starts licking up and down his shaft, giving a little flick at the head she learned from the second man she'd 'practiced' with. The crinkle of paper in his hand reminding him of what he'd meant to do before this little distraction started, Nice Guy reached down and grabbed Taylor by the hair, pulling her off his shaft temporarily.

"Girl, time enough for that later. First, I've got questions. You can just stroke me while you answer them." Having said that, Nice Guy let go of Taylor's hair, leaning back and enjoying as the girl looked up to him, eagerly waiting his questions while her hands began working his shaft. Bringing his notepad back up to begin writing, Nice Guy began his interrogation.

"So girl. Know the names of the local capes? Heroes, Villains, come on, lay them on me! Especially the name of whoever saved the lives of those poor dock workers..." Nice Guys questioning began as it continued, focused almost entirely on the cape scene of Brockton Bay, and what it entailed. He laughed out loud when he learned of who was responsible for saving the dock workers lives, and seemed especially pleased with whatever he wrote into his notepad after that answer. Taylor answered truthfully, as best she could, idly stroking Nice Guy's shaft as she did, occasionally leaning down to lick after she couldn't answer one of Nice Guy's questions. Eventually, after a few repeated failures to know the answer, Nice Guy decided to call it quits for now and get back to the main event. He placed his hands on the back of Taylors head, and brought her down onto his dick. Taylor was eager to suck on the shaft, having been told to practice on all those men earlier to get to this point. She used every trick she'd learned, from twisting her hands while bobbing her head, to jerking him while sucking, to even deep throating him, an action that managed to get Nice Guy to moan unintelligibly while his rod was buried balls deep in Taylors throat. He really enjoyed the deep throating, so Taylor did her best to keep him down for longer, his dick spasming almost in time with her throat as the need to breathe grew greater.

Eventually, after several minutes of her best efforts, Taylor could feel Nice Guy beginning to swell, already recognizing the signs after repeated exposure. Silently she looked up while continuing to suck, looking to question Nice Guy about where he wanted to cum. Unfortunately, Nice Guy took this time to really get into the blow job, grabbing Taylor's head and thrusting her down on his shaft while his hips jerked lewdly up into the air, gagging her on his cock. With one last inarticulate moan, Nice Guy came, deep inside Taylor's throat, back bent in an arch off the couch with Taylors hea. What felt like minutes, but what must have surely been seconds later, Taylor manages to escape Nice Guys grip, coughing out her lungs as Nice Guy relaxes back on the couch.

"Girl, I swear, you continue to amaze. From a pussy tighter than Mouse Protector's, to a mouth better trained than a high class whore. Yeah, I'm Definitely sticking around here for a while. Hey, go clean up your face and come back will ya? You look like shit again." Having finished speaking, Nice Guy turned back to watching the news, having pulled back out his notepad to begin working on his own personal project. Taylor, of course, couldn't really disagree. Her throat was soar from the face fucking, and she could feel snot dripping down from her nose. Standing up, she headed back up to the shower, knowing that her night had only just begun.....


* * *

After her second shower, Taylor went back downstairs expecting to spend the rest of the night having sex with Nice Guy. Surprisingly enough, the man turned her down. Nice Guy explained that, even though he had some amazing stamina thanks to a friends help, six orgasms in a row over two hours was enough to dent even his stamina and thus she was spared his further affections. Instead, Nice Guy had a job for her. While raiding the fridge earlier, Nice Guy noticed that there was barely any food inside, and even less in the pantry. Feeling like this was terrible, he handed Taylor a wad of cash, and told her to go to the store and buy food. Lots of food. And beer. And some cigarettes, to! When Taylor asked how she was expected to purchase such without a license, Nice Guy just smiled and said she could put her body to use convincing whoever she was buying from.

One quick redressing later, Taylor was ready to leave to get food. Only Nice Guy stopped her at the door, and told her that wearing underwear when she planned to use her body to get beer and smokes was considered impolite. How terrible of her. Fortunately, she was still inside, so simply taking off her hoodie allowed her to remove her bra, and her panties came right off from under her skirt. The walk to the super market several blocks away without underwear was a bit breezy, and occasional wind almost caused Taylor to expose herself when it flowed across her exposed nether lips, but she managed to keep decent until she reached the store. First she stopped by the grocery store, filling up an entire basket full of various food stuffs, from frozen diners to ingredients to even ready made sandwiches, one of which she ate right after purchasing it. Unfortunately, the super market didn't have the brand of alcohol or cigarettes that Nice Guy had asked for, so she was forced to head across the street to the liquor store to find them.

Taylor was in luck; the liquor store carried both the drink Nice Guy wanted, and several cartons of the cigarette brand. Unfortunately, there was a very large and visible sign up on the window declaring card checks for everyone, and the bored teen at the counter didn't look like he'd be wiling to skip the check for her, especially with the sheer Amount of stuff she was getting. One quick check of the store showed it clear, apparently empty at 3 in the afternoon. Making sure the coast was clear outside, Taylor nervously went up to the till and handed over her purchases. As she had feared, the boy manning the counter immediately asked for idea, knowing just by looking at her that Taylor was too young to buy. Feeling especially nervous now, because she knew what she had to do, Taylor reached down and lifted her skirt to the man, not actually sure what to say in this sort of situation, but doing as she'd been instructed. Somehow, it payed off.

The boy took one look at her young pussy, stood up, and walked around the counter. He grabbed a sign he put up on the back of the front door, before locking it and closing the shades. He then grabbed Taylor, and dragged her into the break room, where an old couch was waiting.

"Listen uh, I'm not actually the owner of the store. I'm sorry, even if I wanted to, that much stuff's way to expensive to let go just for a little pussy. Sorry." The boy says sadly, after letting go of her hand. "Listen, if your really that desperate for beer, I can swing a case of Heineken from the back for a quick fuck, but any more than that and I'm out. I can't afford to lose this job!" The boy continued, having become distracted from his apologies by Taylor going back to holding up her skirt.

"Um, sir, I'm sorry, I'm willing to actually Pay for all the stuff I got. I just, y'know, don't have an ID? And Sir said that this was the right way to get you to let me buy some stuff..." Taylor starts squeaking out, mumbling out the last bit. She knows that lifting her skirt and offering herself is what she's supposed to do to purchase the beer, but she's starting to get flustered at simply flashing the boy and him not doing anything about it. As the boy Finally starts to realize this isn't a joke, and reaches over to begin fondling Taylor, he freezes up, before crumpling to the ground. Taylor starts in shock. Standing right behind the crumpled form of the store attendant is Nice Guy, smiling at her!

"Well done, dear girl, well done! I honestly thought you would have tried to do something else, but you listened to my command even without my presence! Wonderful!" Nice Guy is smiling widely as he talks, apparently honestly happy at Taylor's obedience. Feeling vaguely happy at how Nice Guy is happy, Taylor drops her skirt and follows Nice Guy back into the store. He had managed to borrow a car from a car dealer just up the highway, and had come to pick her up along with all her food, thinking it would be difficult of her to carry said food home. How nice of him!

After taking the alcohol and smokes, along with several more besides," The boy got to see the goods, even if he didn't touch. Only fair of him to pay up, isn't it?", Taylor got herself into the car while Nice Guy went back inside to do one more thing. As he came out, Taylor aw the Sales clerk groggily walking out of the back room, taking his place at the register as if nothing was wrong. When she asked about it, Nice Guy simply explained that he'd managed to have a little chat with the clerk, explaining how the flash of pussy entitled them to everything they'd taken, and that after they'd gone, he would forget everything about what had happened, going about his day as if normal. Nice Guy was kind like that, especially since he'd removed the stores security tape, to prevent the boy from getting in trouble.

On the ride home, Taylor was quizzed by Nice Guy on the foods she knew. After discovering she was the unofficial chef for the house, Nice Guy asked her if she'd make dinner for him, her father, and herself. Taylor agreed readily, enjoying the thought of cooking so much food for her dad and houseguest. When they arrived home, Taylor unloaded and put everything away, while Nice Guy sat at the old computer doing research. After she'd finished finally putting everything away, Taylor finally remembered how rude it was to wear clothing inside her home and immediately stripped down, much to Nice Guy's vocal pleasure. Unfortunately, though he'd love another go with her, right now Nice Guy wanted to concentrate on building his List, and told Taylor to get to work making dinner.

It was almost an hour later, as Taylor put the turkey into the oven to slow bake for several hours, that she finally realized she'd stopped hearing anything from Nice Guy. Heading over to look for him, she found her new house guest deeply engrossed on the PHO forum, apparently in the middle of a flame war with several other people regarding which powers were the best. Nice Guy himself apparently stood by the Master and Stranger side of the debate, vigorously defending his choice by citing how the PRT had entire Divisions involved around finding ways to beat said powers.

It was in the middle of a particularly long winded post by some Void Cowboy person, that Nice Guy noticed Taylor. After making sure that the turkey would take several hours to finish, and that the rest of the food was wrapped and ready to eat whenever, he promptly scooted back his chair and revealed his erect shaft. He'd had almost two hours to recover from there previous exertions, he'd said, and was wondering if Taylor wouldn't mind keeping his cock warm inside her snatch while he was busy with his flame war.

Not seeing any reason to say no, Taylor immediately climbed on to Nice Guys lap, this time facing towards him. He only stopped typing long enough for Taylor to get between his arms, so she had to line up his shaft with her lower lips by herself. A few quick thrusts later, Taylor cooed at the feeling of once again being filled with dick, especially since Nice Guy was kind enough to give her space to move. After a few minutes simply enjoying being impaled on his shaft, Nice Guy grunted and put a hand to her ass, motioning her to begin moving. She did so with delight, the feeling of her guests shaft moving back and forth inside her as she ground her hips intoxicating to the young girl. As Nice Guy started getting more and more into his debate, Taylor became more and more horny, leading to her eventually beginning to bounce, sliding herself up and down on Nice Guys shaft. A grunt and a moments stiffening was all the warning she received, before Nice Guy started cumming inside her. Knowing what to do from her earlier instructions, Taylor immediately bounced down, taking Nice Guy as deep as she could as his balls started to pump. Eventually, the cum stopped, and Taylor relaxed a little, knowing she'd brought some much needed relief to the man in the middle of a heated debate. Unfortunately, it appeared as if the debate was even more stressful than she'd thought, because Nice Guy's shaft didn't go down in the slightest. In fact, it grew even harder, somehow, as if his rage at the debate was translating straight to his shaft. And when Nice Guy again squeezed Taylor's ass to get her moving again, she was more than happy to oblige.

All told, Taylor brought Nice Guy to three full orgasms during his debate. The first was unremarked on by Nice Guy himself, but the second orgasm had Nice Guy lean back while holding Taylor by the hips, and hammer away at Taylor's pussy like a jackhammer. His dick a blur as he pounded his way to satisfaction, Nice Guy apparently didn't even notice when Taylor came, except to speed up his pounding as the girls pussy began to milk him for all he was worth. He was happy to comply, grunting out nonsense noises as he came, buried deep inside of Taylor's snatch yet again. As Nice Guys dick started pumping into her once more, Taylor actually came around enough to be worried about pregnancy, though Nice Guy simply waved off her concern and told her not to worry. After which, she happily went back to grinding herself onto Nice Guy's shaft, while the man himself returned to his debate, freshly energized after taking out his frustrations inside of Taylor's pussy.

The Third climax was potentially the greatest of them all. Apparently, this Void Cowboy person had somehow managed to get the entire thread locked and everyone temp banned, and Just as Nice Guy was winning the debate, too! He was decidedly frustrated at this, but instead of raging at the mods, he simply pushed Taylor off his lap onto the ground, turned her over, and thrust right back into her pussy. Pounding away his apparent frustrations at the internet, Nice Guy actually brought Taylor to one orgasm after another, her spasming pussy and whining voice not enough to satiate him, until eventually, Taylor's cries and sheer friction managed to bring him to orgasm. He bellowed like a bull this time, thrusting himself over and over into the crying girl, who wasn't resisting even as she cried. Eventually, he finished, and simply laid there on top of his new possession, enjoying the feeling of her raw pussy clutching at his still pulsing member. Finally, he was spent. Nice Guy stood up, and looked down upon what he had wrought. Taylor was a mess, and no doubt about it. She was sporting a full body flush, red from head to toes and panting wildly. Her pussy was surprisingly unstained, though it was a far deeper red than the rest of her, and cum was already leaking from her slit.

Deciding that enough was enough, and that he was feeling puckish, Nice Guy carried Taylor to the showers to get clean again, this time me the both of them. Taylor's pussy was raw, exhausted after such a furious fucking as it had received, but Nice Guy wasn't worried. He knew what it took for a pussy to tear, and Taylor hadn't even come close yet. Taylor, meanwhile, had managed to get something resembling motor control back, and was shakily standing up in the shower spray, supported by Nice Guy. The man was pouring soap onto her body, washing her down as she fought to regain control over her legs after the blinding series of orgasms she'd just received. Eventually she recovered, and as Nice Guy had been kind enough to wash her, she returned the favor, eagerly rubbing down his body with her own to get soap over the most area. She even helped him clean his dick with her mouth, licking off all the remains of there previous exertions, before Nice Guy eventually pulled her off and told her to go finish dinner.

It was as she finished checking the turkey after setting the table that she heard her fathers car pull up to the house. Evidently, Nice Guy heard as well, as he came down the stairs dressed again and told Taylor to continue with dinner while he went to have a talk with her father. Several minutes later, as Taylor was carving the Turkey, Nice Guy came back inside, with her father in tow. Danny himself didn't seem to have any issues with a complete stranger living in his house, nor did he notice anything wrong with his daughter being naked around the house. It almost seemed as if it could have been a perfectly normal dinner, were it not for Taylor's nudity, or the third person at the table.

Breaking out a few beers and splitting them between himself and Danny, Nice Guy had to ask," Rough day, huh?"

Of course it had been a rough day. Several of Danny's workers had almost died of chemical fire, and without Panacea they would have almost certainly died from the fume inhalation. Lucky Brockton Bay had such a talented girl to look after the ill and injured. Quickly souring on the topic, Nice Guy switched over to a slightly more personal venue. Namely, what did the Dan man do to relax after such a stressful day at work?

"Well y'know, usually I'll spend the night working, catching up on paperwork, or working on getting jobs for my workers. Times are tough after all, and I need to work if I want Taylor to have a happy life." Danny finishes with a long pull from his beer, settling down into his chair now that dinners coming to an end.

Nice Guy butts in at that sentence, clearly appalled. "Surely, Danny, you don't spend Every waking hour working? No man's an island, after all."

Danny snorts, almost dropping his beer with the laugh that shakes him. "Mr. Guy, there hasn't been anything worth doing for fun in Brockton Bay since the Harbor shut down. Without work, there's no money, and without money, well..." Danny raises his drink, at what is up for guessing. "You can see for yourself, how this place has fallen apart."

Nice Guy nods along, false sympathy all across his face. "Too true, Danny, too true. This city really has gone to hell since I was here last. Tell me though, it can't all be bad, can it? Surely life's simple pleasures still exist for men to find? A good bar, good beer, warm food, and willing women!" The last almost shouted out as Nice Guy raises his glass, downing his beer in one go.

Danny, for his part, looks uncomfortable as he swirls his bottle. "Sorry Guy, but I'm the wrong person to ask about women. Haven't touched a girl since my wife passed, and I doubt I ever will." So saying, Danny to lifts back his beer, swallowing the last of it.

"Well now, that's unfair to yourself Danny. I mean, yeah, your wife's gone, but giving up on women? Simply unreasonable. Hey, I've got it, I know what you need to get your life back on track!" Nice Guys hand raises into the air, as if pointing out for the world his genius solution.

"Oh yeah, Mr. Guy? And what's your solution?" Danny retorts unconvincingly, not looking up at Nice Guy.

"You, my friend, need to get Laid. Have Sex. Break a few beds. I'm sure of it!" Nice Guy's smile has gone from friendly to devious, a nasty smirk appearing on his face. Danny, for his part, looked bemused, as if he'd never even thought of what Nice Guy had suggested.

"Sex, are you sure? I mean, I wouldn't want to be disloyal to my wife's memory..." Danny states, his eyes downcast, not even noticing the look of triumph that dashed across Nice Guys face.

"Now there's the beauty of the thing, Danny boy! There's a perfectly acceptable way for you to get all the sex you could ever want, without spitting on your wife's memory. A method you could even use right now!"

Danny was intrigued. He realized he had been depressed ever since his wife died, and it had only grown worse the longer he'd been without her. But if sex was the answer to his problems, and this man had a solution to said problems...?

"Simple Danny, look no further than your daughter, Tailor over there!" So saying, Nice Guy swung his hands grandly in Taylor's direction. Taylor herself had spent this entire time cleaning, putting away the empty dishes, and packaging what could become leftovers. At this particular point in time, Taylor was bent over inside the fridge, having some trouble fitting the turkey into the bottom rack. Nice Guy chose that moment to speak up again, a hint of lust in his tone. "Danny, don't you realize? You helped Make your daughter after all, of course its perfectly acceptable for you to use her to help relieve your stress. Doesn't the sight of such a defenseless pussy just make you wanna ravage it? Well go on, what are you waiting for, an invitation? It's your pussy, after all." The sight of Taylor bent over, legs spread and pussy still slightly swollen from its earlier activities, seemed to cast a spell over Danny. The man appeared as if entranced, witnessing a vision of the promised land after a long drought. Nice Guy did not need to stay more, merely lean back in his chair and smile as Danny stood up. The smile grew wider as Danny dropped his pants there and then, primed earlier to reach this point when they had first spoken outside the house.

Nice Guy decided that this had been an excellent diversion for the evening, as Danny stepped up behind his still struggling daughter. Sure, he could have simply ordered them to fuck, but that would have been boring. And as Danny thrust home into Taylors pussy for the first of many times, with Taylor yelping and squealing at the unexpected assault, Nice Guy could only grin wider at the sights and sounds of his latest work. Sure, he'd be without a bed warmer for the night, but he'd had all day to enjoy the girl, and the Father had gone Years without sex. He was sure to last a good long while tonight, by Nice Guys reckoning. As Danny reached his peak only a few minutes into his first fuck, he roared aloud and came buckets, actually causing some of his spunk to spurt out the sides of Taylor's pussy. Feeling as if tonight couldn't get more perfect, Nice Guy decided to head over and watch TV, but not before giving some parting advice.

"Tailor, my dear, you should know that your father has been incredibly stressed ever since your mother died. Incredibly stressed. Really, his stress levels are much to high, and now he's finally fixing the issue. Of course, this means he's going to basically spend the night raping you until he's released all the stress and cum he's built up over the years, but I'm sure you can take it." Taylor was slowing down her struggling now, the surprise rape by her father losing out to Nice Guys voice, even as a particularly harsh thrust nearly pushed her head into the fridge."Just remember dear, its a daughters responsibility to deal with her fathers stress. Do be a dear and make sure your father's released All his stress tonight, won't you? And Danny, I know you feel your in a hurry, but would you mind taking your daughter up to your room, I'm trying to watch TV down here."

Having sais his piece, Nice Guy departed for the couch. Taylor, for her part, was no longer struggling, and in fact was enthusiastically thrusting herself back against her father, doing her best to milk him with her pussy, the only way she could help remove his stress. She yelped when Danny thrust forward and stopped, locking himself deep inside her. She squeaked as Danny reached down, placing both arms beneath her knees and lifting her up into the air, still locked inside her but now with her pussy and his dick on display. Danny walked slowly up to his room, both careful of his daughter's safety and enjoying the pleasure of her pussy shifting around his shaft as he carried her, especially up the stairs.

Nice Guy decided to spend the night on the couch. For certain, he wouldn't get any rest upstairs, where Danny and Taylor spent much of the night together, him releasing years worth of bottled up depression, and her doing her best to relieve her father's woes.

Nice Guy, just couldn't wait for tomorrow. What wonders would be performed then!


* * *

Nice Guy: The Morning After

?

The feeling of warmth as sunlight creeps over your body through a window in the early morning? That's nice. When said light shines straight into your eye the minute you decide to wake up, blinding you with pain from the evil, evil light? Not so nice.

Nice Guy woke to such a blinding light, swearing as he covered his eyes and flipped away from the light. Bloody light. He hadn't even had anything to drink last night, and still it tormented him!

Grumbling at the unfairness of it all, Nice Guy decided that sleep was no longer on the table and decided to get up. Rolling off the bed away from the light, he fell before landing on the comforter he'd wrapped himself in. Yawning aloud, he slowly stood up while blocking the light with his hand, wondering what he was supposed to do now that he was awake. A grumbling stomach was his answer, and so he decided to head down for breakfast.

Comforter kept clenched around his shoulders, the man made his way towards the kitchen. As he passed by the master bedroom, he could hear the sounds of moans, grunts and other various fleshy noises associated with sex. Well, they're already up, and he Does still have his morning wood tenting right out....

Opening the door to the room, the first thing Nice Guy noticed was the smell. The scent of sex, spent lust, and carnal delight almost filled the room, his opening the door causing an almost visible wave of lust to flow outwards from the opening. The scent was enough to clinch Nice Guy's desire, deciding him on a morning fuck before food.

Striding into the master bedroom, Nice Guy took in the scene. Clothes scattered all over, bed in a state of massive disruption, and a pair of lovers in mid coitus. The two on the bed apparently hadn't even noticed his entrance, so caught up in the other they were.

The girl, Taylor, was laying stop her father, her back on his chest, and his hands grasped tightly to her body groping and squeezing all they could reach. They were joined at the waist, the mans shaft buried in her ass, rocking her slightly up and down as he focused on his hands roaming her body.

Nice Guy took a moment to merely take in the sight. The duo were pointed straight at him, let's spread wide to more easily enjoy each other. Given the leakGe visible from Both holes, and the dried cum stains covering her thighs, it was quite obvious that the two had pulled an all nighter, quite possibly managing to have sex the entire night through. The wonders of his biology, courtesy of Bonesaw. Regeneration is such a wonderful feature.

More specifically, Nice Guy took notice of the I filled Pussy in front of him, and felt no need to hold himself back from his lusts. Moving forwards, Nice Guy dropped his comforter as he climbed onto the bed, the two Still not noticing him even though his dick head was now rubbing up and down the girls pussy lips. Why...?

Oh, right. Last night, after Danny had gotten back and he'd had the two start in on there fun, he'd told them to just completely ignore them and focus on each other. Seems like they really Can't notice him. Oh well.

Luis shaft now slippery from the girls rather copious juices, Nice Guy slipped his head inside of her with a little adjustment, then with a single thrust, buried himself halfway home. A few more thrusts saw him buried nearly to the hilt within the girls heavily fucked snatch, his thatch of pubic hair mingling with the girls own neatly shaven mound.

The girl herself gasps, her enjoyment increased immensely at being filled in both holes, though she seems to still be completely ignoring him in favor of Danny, who's begun to move himself in her ass. Well, if these two are going to ignore him, he may as well not hold back at all.

Nice Guy leans forward, seating himself firmly within the girl as he brings his hands to the sides of the two rutting beneath him. He makes sure his stance is stable, and then he begins to Thrust.

Over and over, like a piston Nice Guy spears into the girls depths, taking her with a roughness and intensity she had not felt until her first time with her father, the night before.

The two men began to thrust into the girl in concert, Danny at a slower pace, but the unpredictability alongside the different paces was too much for poor Taylor. The girl started crying aloud in ecstasy as she came, tightening down on both of the shafts invading her like a hot, wet vice.

Nice Guy felt the girl cumming, and wasted little time himself. A few more thrusts, then one final push and the man too was cumming, keeping his shaft buried to enjoy the girls contractions as he filled her womb with his seed.

Below them, Danny himself was yet to come. Not even the joy of others could speed up a body that has so long been doing this action. Still, as Taylor's orgasm began to dip down from its peak, Danny managed to reach that final stage, and himself cried out as he came in the girls ass, driving her back into orgasm.

Nice Guy stayed above the duo, his shaft still being milked by the girls clutching pussy as he looked down at them. Both of them, faces filled with joy and pleasure. Perfect.

Nice Guy moved his hips a bit, his dick no longer thrusting, merely enjoying the sensations of the girls snug channel gripping his shaft. The girl didn't mind, going by how she tightened up when he went to pull out. Unfortunately, round two for Nice Guy ended up delayed by a growling noise. His stomach apparently disliked being ignored.

Sighing at the tyranny of his own body, Nice Guy gave a few more enjoyable thrusts, before pulling out and standing back up to look at his handy work. The girls pussy lips looked Much better, leaking a fresh load, and the man beneath her still held a certain hardness to his shaft. After pulling out, the girl began to whine a bit, before an idea struck and she shifted, lifting her ass of the shaft beneath her with a soft pop. Scooting back, the girl grabbed the shaft beneath her, guiding it up into her pussy before sitting up herself, the look of pleasure on her face as she began to ride that shaft to adorable to disturb.

As he turned to get breakfast, he reminded the two love bugs that they shouldn't forget the need to eat, lest they starve. If they were still going at it by the time He was finished, he'd come up to get them.

Snagging the comforter he'd dropped on the way in, Nice Guy left the room with the sounds of vigorous and much enjoyed sex echoing behind him. Always a good thing to start the day with!


* * *

Fortunately, the horny couple managed to make it down to breakfast before he was finished with the bacon.

The girl, Taylor, was absolutely devastated. Hair in wild disarray, eyes glazed over with lust still, and her naked body still covered in an entire nights worth of cum. Her father was not much better, though for him his dishevallment was less apparent, though his still erect shaft completely coated in the combined love juices of him and his daughter gave the game away.

Looking at the both of them, so discarding of there appearance, Nice Guy tsked. He sent the two of them up to the shower, with orders to take said shower and come back downstairs cleaned up thoroughly. He felt not even mild surprise when he heard the shower sex start up, but thankfully it seemed as if his two new friends had listened to him. Only twenty minutes later the two came down, Danny swathed in a bathrobe and Taylor naked as the day she was born, both looking Infinitely better than there first appearance.

Breakfast was eggs and bacon, with waffles from the toaster to complete the set. The two before him wolfed down there breakfasts like it was not even there, and had seconds and even thirds before they were satisfied. The one flaw, however minor, of massively expanded regeneration. Though it did have its perks. Already, he could see the two changing, the mans body firming up from its state of flab, the girls body doing the same, shaving away unnecessary fat, making her more appealing by the minute. Just looking at her, Nice Guy could tell her bust was already increased in size from when he'd had the both of them drink his blood. Truly, Bonesaw is a Tinker beyond compare. If only he could have kept her... ah, well. Work time now.

Clapping his hands, Nice Guy got the attention of his two new friends, before they completely ignored him. Frowning, Nice Guy paused before remembering exactly what was up. With a sigh, he explained that he wasn't to be ignored anymore, and so it was.

Now with appropriate attention, Nice Guy explained what he wanted to happen today. Taylor and Danny had the day off, to spend the day having fun, fixing up the house, fucking themselves senseless, just don't forget to eat, would they?

He, meanwhile, had a desire to wander. Now with a confirmed home of operations, Nice Guy wanted to go out and thoroughly explore this new city, to see what new friends he could make.

Before he left, though, he let Taylor show him her gratitude for making her life better. While Danny cleaned up breakfast and began picking up the house, Taylor spent a good ten minutes working over Nice Guys dick, licking, sucking, stroking, and doing her best to please him. Finally, at his signal, the girl stood up and turned around. Feet together, she lowered herself onto his shaft, the Rick she had ignored that morning once again violating her pussy, before she leaned forwards and ceased to move.

Nice Guy loved it when his new friends remembered what he taught them. Deciding not to waste any time on such a nice day, Nice Guy began vigorously working the girls hips up and down his shaft, moving quickly towards climax as he considered what he was going to do.

As the first tremors of an impending orgasm hit him, leaning back on a chair while fucking himself to orgasm using a new friends pussy while said friend remained motionless aside from her hips, Nice Guy decided to wonder. Where would he go today?


* * *

Nice Guy: Home At Last!?

Nice Guy was having a moderately nice day. Oh, for certain, Brockton Bay was still a massive shithole, and the residents who weren't gangsters either feared them and did nothing, or ignored them and thought they didn't exist. Truly, a wonderful city to be in. Sure, after years of travelling on the road he had grown used to hardships, and by and large his previous life style had never made him want for much but its only as he had begun attempting to settle down that he'd discovered a slight problem with his desire. His powers never turned off.

Now, admittedly, Nice Guy loved his powers. Who wouldn't love being able to go up to any random stranger, and suddenly have them willing to do anything you say? It's marvelous! The issue, though, is that Nice Guy's aura makes it so that people he talks to directly end up a bit...stupid is not the right word. Vacant? It's a v word, he's sure... Vapid! Yes, there it is!

Most people, under the effects of his power, see nothing wrong with whatever he's doing. Admittedly, simply asking for a home from the realtor was no issue, its that unless people are nearby, and within his range, they end up Curious. Curious about things like Tax information, or Insurance, or Proof of ID and and and....

Sighing at the travesty of it all, Nice Guy takes a moment to observe his current abode. After the third time he'd been forced to move lest his presence be discovered by the local law, Nice Guy had spent his days moving from house to house, living off the charity of those that fell under his sway. His current home, one rather nice two story house, was an alright place. The paint was beginning to peel, in places, the yard looked a bit unkempt, and the area wasn't the best, but Nice Guy had lived in worse. Much, much worse. At least the service was decent.

Looking down from his observations, Nice Guy finally began to pay attention to the girl. She was tall, Taller than him, even, though completely lacking in the chest or hip department, at least she had vigor and spunk. Watching her head bob up and down along his shaft, the way her hands played with the parts she couldn't inhale, the sight of the cum he'd previously spewed all over her face and hair while she stared up at him in adoration...

A hand to hold her in place, and a few quick thrusts, and Nice Guy was cumming again, groaning as this time the girl's head was held in place, forced to swallow everything lest she drown.

After his dick stopped throbbing, Nice Guy released the girl and leaned back, ignoring her coughing fit. Yes, he most certainly had lived in worse, but this life was Infinitely more preferable than the one he'd lived with the Slaughterhouse 9. Jack alone seemed to have a sixth sense for whenever he'd snuck off to have a spot of fun, and though he'd never outright spoken of it one way or the other, Nice Guy knew that holding himself back from his more carnal urges had been the Only reason he'd lasted as long as he had. Bit of a prat, was old Jacky boy.

Hell's, he'd only ever touched the new girl! He hadn't even gotten a Chance to try for anything more before Siberian had ripped his arm off and beat him half to death with it. She'd eaten a bit of him too, before they'd all left with him crucified and rendered apart. Thank G-... no, thank Himself for the foresight to get Bonesaw to do some Serious experimenting on him before he'd given in to his own urges. He'd had to wait a while, to make Sure the lot of them had left town, before pulling himself together and running off before the proper authorities arrived. Regeneration and Survivability, on a truly impressive level. Why, if not for him making little Bonesaw forget ever giving him those enhancements, he'd probably be a Lot more dead right now. Anyway, what's past is past, and right now he was living the dream! Figuratively speaking, of course, his current residence was a bit lacking in comfort.

While he had been woolgathering, the girl had gotten up and sat on him, guiding his shaft within her tight walls and burying him to the hilt, before leaning forward almost double, hands to her feet and unmoving. It'd taken a bit to train her to do that, but it was well worth it in his mind. Sometimes, he just enjoyed the feel of a quality pussy wrapped around his shaft, pulsing around him while he thought. Feeling the need for movement, Nice Guy grabbed the girls hips and lifted, beginning to gently bounce the girl up and down on his shaft while he went back to thinking, his head lolling back in time with the pleasurable strokes.

Where was he? Oh right, comfort. Nice Guy's last home had been comfortable, living with an old woman who was basically useless, leaving her to care for the place while he loafed around. He'd found pleasure elsewhere, but it was bad luck he was out of the house when the woman had a stroke. Not much he Could have done, but by the time he had returned the next day, the woman was dead and rotting, her many cats already beginning to circle the corpse. He'd torn open the cat food as a distraction, and left without a backwards glance. No way was he planning on dealing with a horde of cats with a taste for flesh, no sir.

Kayden had been a lucky find, all things considered. Finding her at the late night grocery, following her home, discovering her two children, teaching the young boy the wonders of sex with his own mother... Good times. Unfortunately, the baby sort of ruined it for him, and instead of killing her and causing a fuss, he decided to leave. Not before allowing the boy to Thoroughly shag his mother senseless, of course, and then bringing her along to while away the hours on the bus while he'd waited for another decent catch.

He felt somewhat gipped by that bus route, almost two Hours stuck on that bus, enjoying the pleasures of Kayden's flesh while waiting for an at least decent looking girl to come aboard. Unfortunately, he'd apparently only just missed the morning high school rush, and thus would have a bit of a wait on his hands. Or so he thought, until the girl showed up.

She hadn't looked like much, at first, until he noticed her torn skirt and panties. Then, he'd thrown her to the audience for a bit of sport while he waited for another option. But her reaction... She hadn't just fallen all over herself and become a complete submissive. Given her head, he'd almost say She had raped the three young men who's acquaintance he'd made on the bus, not the other way around. And she'd looked so joyous there at the end...

How could he not give her a shot? Kayden was mostly out of it by that point, anyway, and so was the audience. He'd given her a whirl, and after she'd managed to make him cum after only ten minutes of effort, he knew he was sold. This girl was perfect!

Of course, then there was the expedition home, convincing the girl to walk home with naught but her hoodie had been fun, and teasing her the whole way had been even More fun. He might have been a bit indiscrete with his teasing's, but so what? Arriving at the house, he'd immediately spent his time setting up the girl, teaching her the facts of life now that he was going to be living with her. Clothing in the house was only to be worn if it was going to be taken off, cooking could be done with an apron, any time he asked her to do something she would, etc. etc. Hearing about her family, more specifically her depressed father and dead mother, made waiting for his return home somewhat exciting. He like to make the lives of those he didn't kill more enjoyable while he's with them, and after years of no sex, he's positive poor Danny boy could use a good fuck or two. Or three or more, even! Depressed people are disheartening, after all, he's sure plenty of sex should help with that.

Speaking of sex, it seems he'd managed to mental montage himself through two orgasms from the girls end, and she appeared to be working her way up to a third. Remarkable stamina, this girl! As a reward, and because he's feeling particularly cheerful after deciding to help someone else stop being depressed, he grabbed the girls hips and began bouncing her much harder, enjoying the yelp and moans as the pace changed and her orgasm rapidly picked up speed. A short, sharp scream from the girl, followed by some truly pleasurable pulses along his shaft let him know she'd managed to reach her third orgasm. Feeling no more need to hold back, Nice Guy promptly pulled down on the girls hips, burying himself as deep as he could in a single thrust and released. Leaning further back on the couch, and enjoying the sensations of his dick being milked for all it held by the girls spasming snatch, Nice Guy decided that this house wasn't a bad place to stay. Not at all.

Now, what to do tomorrow, while the girl helped her father stop being so sad...?


* * *

What A Nice Guy — OMAKE

Nice Guy was bored. Oh, not that he wasn't currently doing something, or in this case, someone. For certain, this Tailor girl he'd found had a truly magnificent pussy, tight enough after hours and hours of sex to still give that wonderful friction, with just the right texture and wetness...

Bah, he was getting distracted. Though admittedly, staring at the ceiling while laying on the bed, with the Tailor girl enthusiastically bouncing up and down on his shaft, was certainly a position in which he Could be distracted. The girl was completely under his sway by now, and the only reason he hadn't gotten bored until now was thanks to her wonderful asset. Although, looking up from resting his head back against his hands, Tailor's new body seemed to be doing Wonderful. Her newly enlarged breasts, more than two handfuls apiece courtesy of Panacea, were giggling quite pleasantly with each bounce. What's more, though the girl had had a wonderful pussy before, thanks to Panacea, Tailor now had full control of her own internal muscles, and could massage him while she fucked. Truly, an amazing and astounding quality, that he'd rewarded Panacea for by pounding her raw while Taylor had licked her clit and his shaft. Given the number of screaming orgasms she had before he'd finished, the girl had Certainly enjoyed her reward.

Even now, as Tailor bounced her body up and down his shaft, new tits wobbling all over, he could feel her pussy flexing on him in the most Sublime of manners, coaxing him ever closer to climax with each passing second. Deciding not to hold off, Nice Guy shuddered as he began to cum, once again filling Tailor's hole with his seed. The girl, as he'd trained her to do, had sunk down upon his cock and held him deep as he came, massaging with her new pussy muscles as her hips rocked back and forth, hands groping her own breasts tightly as she stared at our joining. She appeared both gleeful and fascinated as Nice Guy came, not able to take her eyes away from where he was filling her with his seed.

Sighing mournfully, Nice Guy leaned back onto his hands as Tailor continued rocking her hips. Even with all the new features of his pet, the girl still had managed to become somewhat boring. It's as if, after having achieved the dream, everything had become stale. Hmm.... Now There's an idea....

An idea came to Nice Guy's mind, a notion as to a method to curing his boredom. Never one to hold back his impulses when he didn't Have to, he immediately pushed Tailor away from him, the girl yelping in confusion as she popped back onto the bed, before moaning as Nice Guy grabbed her legs and Pulled, thrusting even deeper into Tailor with this new position. Begin to feel less bored, though still not really feeling the position, Nice Guy began scooting over, dragging a moaning Taylor still impaled on his shaft by the legs until, with another yelp, the girl's upper half fell off the bed, managing to drag the rest of her with. Not one to muck about, Nice Guy sat up and followed Taylor off the bed, finding his pet in a truly interesting position.

Somehow, Tailor had managed to get her back wedged into the corner of her bed and bedroom floor, flailing a little with her hips in the air. Taking her legs into hand before she fell over, Nice Guy quieted Tailor's whining with a word, merely pulling her up some before spreading her legs wider apart, then having her hold her legs apart as he stepped back to admire the scene in full. Taylor lay there, inverted, pussy exposed to the world for all to see while holding her ankles down by her head. The girls new tits were squeezed together between her arms, showcasing some truly spectacular cleavage, while her pussy showed not even a Hint of his cum leaking out. She was trying to look sexy, but mostly she was a bit confused and unsure of herself, waiting for Nice Guy's words. For his part, Nice Guy found the fact that this position prevented leakage surprisingly arousing. He wondered how much it would take to over flow such a cup?

Stepping forward, he guided his shaft himself straight to the girls quivering honey pot, not even bothering to pause before thrusting home. Leaning over, Nice Guy layed his hands upon the bed and looked down. All he could see was a wonderful pussy wrapped snuggly around his dick, and effectively nothing else. Truly, a magnificent sight. Now, with a challenge ahead of him and such a stimulating sight to egg him on, Nice Guy began to thrust.

Almost three hours, a truly staggering amount of orgasms on his part, and the loud sobbing of his personal pussy later, Nice Guy gave one last mighty thrust, burying himself deep as he let go with his hopefully final orgasm. Taylor, even after all of her enhancements, still couldn't keep up with Nice Guy himself, as he had wanted. She had started begging for relief by the end of the first hour, and had started crying by the hour and a half mark. Right now, she barely sounded human with all the blubbering she was doing, but that hardly mattered to Nice Guy. He was still cumming, using the pussy beneath him to massage all of his cum out, before with a final wet thrust, he removed his shaft from the wreck of a girl. Looking down at his handy work, Nice Guy grinned at seeing his cum spilling down from the girls well used pussy, the mound itself glowing bright red from the abuse heaped upon it. Beaming at his accomplishments, Nice Guy finally noticed that his pet had started quietly sobbing to herself, no longer screaming.

Ah, well. Can't have everything. Tailor, dear, go clean yourself up, your a mess.


* * *

What A Nice Guy Revised Pt 1

The bus was late. Of course, it being 10 in the morning, with classes in session and everyone at there jobs, of course the bus would be late. Taylor sighed as she hunched over in her seat, keeping an eye out for the bus, or the police. They didn't usually patrol this area until later, but she was skipping class, and didn't want any trouble. Today had been an especially bad day, all things considered. Sure, Sophia had apparently been forced to cool down for some reason recently, but that apparently just meant Emma and Madison were forced to pick up the slack. Whispers in the halls, spit wads and thrown objects in class, her backpack almost getting stolen Twice. The worst by far, however, had to have been her skirt. On her way between classes before lunch, Taylor had been bumped into the lockers by one of Emma's hangers on, and her skirt had Caught on that locker, ripping almost right down the seam, exposing her to the entire hall. She'd run away, then, hiding in the bathroom long enough to try to salvage her skirt, before just giving up. School just... wasn't worth it today. And so she'd left, some tape and staples barely keeping her skirt on as she walked to the bus stop heading home, her back pack carried low to stop her from flashing any random asshole who walked by. Stupid laundry. Stupid skirts. Stupid Emma.

Before she could really get into her funk, Taylor heard the bus approaching from down the road. Standing, with her backpack covering the tear as best as she could make it, Taylor paused as the bus doors opened and then entered the bus. Showing her pass to the driver, she decided to head straight to the back of the bus, hoping against hope to avoid anyone seeing her panties through her torn skirt, though she knew at least some of the people on the bus would see Something. The bus at this time of day actually had several people on board, some old lady in the front with a huge bag, a few punks Taylor recognized as ganger wannabes from school, and this one guy in an aisle seat having sex with a women.

The couple going at it were honestly pretty vigorous, the woman more than the man, what with her jumping up and down on the mans dick and moaning out loud, what sounded like an endless stream of curse words leaving her mouth as she apparently road her lover to climax. Deciding that it was worth bypassing these people so long as she got a seat in the back that could hide her until she was home, Taylor started down the aisle hurriedly, hoping to go pass without interrupting the happy couple or attracting the toughs attention. Of course, nothing had ever gone right today, and one of the Toughs decided it'd be funny to trip her on the way back. Of course she missed it, being distracted by the woman screaming out her climax for the world to hear. And of course her back pack caught on the tear in her skirt, ripping all the way down the seam, totally exposing her to the toughs. She started scrambling then, grabbing back up her backpack and trying to run for the back of the bus, but someone stopped her. Not the toughs, this time it was the man having sex.

"Ho? What have we here? Little girl, wandering around with such a tear in your skirt, exposed to the world? Isn't that a bit... Shameful?" The man breathes out, the woman riding him apparently too exhausted for words now. He has the woman's head held back to his shoulder, one hand covering her mouth while the other fondles her breasts. Unfortunately, Taylor's face is almost directly in line with the mans crotch, and for a few moments all she can do is stare at there joining, the man's shaft actually shining with the amount of liquid spilling onto him from the woman riding him. Of course, at that point her face lights up with a brilliant hue, averting her eyes as she stands back up. Her hopes with escaping this scene with just a chastisement end, however, when the man speaks up again.

"Come now girl, you place yourself in the perfect position to join in on the festivities, and don't even join in? Why, your falling down just now was entirely your own fault. Just look at those fine gentlemen there, dicks hanging out hard and heavy, waiting for a turn with this fine beauty here? Is it any wonder you were pushed out of the way of such a view?"

Taylor follows along with the mans pointed finger, staring as she realizes all three of the toughs have there pants around there ankles, dicks hard and pointing straight up, each of them staring at her with lust. She turns back as the man finishes his tirade, watching as he starts to tease the women on his lap, rubbing her clit while her pinches her nipples. She abruptly realizes that the women is completely naked, only her socks still on, her clothing seemingly piled on another seat. Taylor begins to feel chastised, not realizing how she'd interrupted the men's fun, hoping to leave with just a scolding but feeling s if she knew better. Indeed, as she lowered her face back towards the ground, one of the toughs got tired of her standing right in front of them without saying anything and while she was distracted by the man, had reached forward and pulled down her panties. Skirt destroyed, completely exposed, and apparently interrupting the nice man's fun, Taylor felt utterly mortified. She tried to cover herself, but then the man spoke again.

"Now now, girl, there's no need to be so ashamed. I'll admit, I haven't been fair to my audience, hoggin this delightful filly all to myself. Tell you what girl, I'll make you a deal. These three fine upstanding gentleman have been without relief or female companionship since I started my little party. If you were to, say, fuck all three of them with that pussy of yours, then suck them off afterwards, I would consider your debt to me paid. How about it?"

The man's face looked positively gleeful as he spoke, but Taylor nodded along anyway. It was her fault for interfering, and now she had to pay the price. She'd never had sex before, though she'd lost her hymen to a fall during summer camp. Only, the man had said she'd be free to go once she had sex with all three men. And sucked them off after wards. Given how happy the woman appeared to be with just one man, surely her paying the three toughs back wouldn't cause her too much trouble?

As she was lost in her thoughts, the man in front of her lifted his leg and pushed, tripping her back onto the lap of the man who had originally pulled down her panties. With a startled yelp, Taylor landed, the first toughs dick sliding up the side of her thigh as she fell. Sitting back up, Taylor had time to see the man starting back up with sex with the beautiful blonde woman, before the other two toughs closed in on her. She was trapped, she knew, but this was only just. She had interrupted there fun, after all, and now she had to pay the price. So thinking, Taylor shifted her hips, moving with the man beneath her as she was repositioned, facing away from the man as she rose up, reaching down for his shaft. As she grasped the toughs dick, she felt it jump in her hand, as if excited to be there. She rubbed the head of the dick across her lower lips, the toughs dick juicing heavily enough that she didn't even need much lubrication of her own, before with an impatient curse the tough grabbed her by the hips and slammed her down.

A short yelp, followed by biting her lips, was all Taylor did as she was penetrated for the first time by a man. She could honestly say she had never felt anything like it, the man's dick filling her up in ways she'd never imagined. The tough himself seemed to be out of it, moaning with his head thrown back, which gave Taylor some time to explore. Moving her hips, she felt the shaft inside her shift as well, pressing against her channel from the inside and causing the tough to start moaning again. Deciding to try and take a hint from the blonde woman across from her, Taylor tried rolling her hips, the sensation produced causing her to start panting while the tough continued moaning. A few more experimental rolls, and Taylor's pussy was wet enough that she no longer had any issue going even further with the tough. As a test, she start trying to stand up, the man's shaft beginning to pull out of her. Just as she reached the tip, however, the man seemed to realize what she was doing, and instead of letting her experiment, grabbed her hip again and Slammed her down. From filled to almost empty, straight back to Filled, Taylor saw stars. The friction, the feeling of being filled, the twisting sensation cantered on her mound... She didn't resist. Not as the tough began trying to grind into her, not even when he reached up and began fondling her breasts over her clothing. It was when the tough yanked her shirt off her and began gripping her breasts directly that Taylor finally got into the swing of things, and began to ride the man. Up and down, up and down, Taylor's first sexual intercourse was glorious, that twisting sensation in her mound tightening further and further , just a little more, almost there...

When with a yell, the man beneath her slammed her down one more time, and started to shake. Taylor had felt the man's shaft grow harder, somewhat, and had heard him panting in a different way, but she had been too inexperienced to know the signs, and so had been too caught up in her own pleasure when the man decided he was finished. With a loud bellow, the mans shaft began to jerk, and Taylor felt a warmth blossom deep inside her gut, as she was filled with cum for the first time in her life. Sadly, however, she hadn't managed to reach that point of no return herself, and as the man went soft and slipped out of her, Taylor was desperately rubbing at herself, trying with all her might to get back to that glorious point. Around then, she was reminded that this was a punishment and not solely for her, when one of the other toughs who had been watching there lucky friend grabbed her and pulled her over. She was confused for a moment, but then she saw the mans rock hard shaft sticking up, and realized that This was what she needed to reach that unfulfilled promise still burning inside her.

Standing straight, Taylor pushed the man back into his chair, pulling her panties the rest of the way off as she stood in front of him. She was almost completely naked now, her shoes and socks all that was left of her clothing, including her glasses. With a determined look in her eye, Taylor kneeled over the mans lap, this time eagerly moving to start her punishment. She started to reach for the mans shaft, but he was ahead of her, already lining himself up with her needy snatch. Taylor barely waited for him to get in position before she dropped down, two swift strokes managing to lodge the man inside her all the way to the base. He was sadly somewhat smaller than her first companion, but that was alright. All Taylor needed was the friction, the heat, the feeling of being filled....

Three strokes in, just as she hit her stride, the man came like a freight train, his warm cum joining his friends inside her pussy, before with a snarl Taylor stood up, the man continuing to cum all over the floor while Taylor turned around, a rather cross expression upon her face. The couple from earlier were still going at it somehow, the man apparently having cum recently at some point, given the evidence leaking out her snatch and down her thighs. The blondes legs were now in the air, being held up at the knees by the man as he seemed not even tired after who knows how long having sex with the woman. The sight of the two, still going at it, and more importantly the blissed out expression of multiple orgasms on the woman's face, made Taylor grow even hotter, desperately wishing to release the tension that hasn't gone away yet. Turning towards the third tough, Taylor almost literally growled at the man, scaring him back from reaching for her. She instead grabbed the tough by the hand not occupied, dragging him over to one of the long aisle seats and laying him down. His dick had actually managed to lose some of it's hardness during the move, but Taylor wasn't having any of it, not now. Kneeling on the floor perpendicular to the tough, Taylor leaned down and took the man's shaft into her mouth without preamble, trying her best to get him hard again. A few small accidents with her teeth, and several minutes of sucking licking, and stroking later, the man was Finally back to full hardness. Taylor hadn't actually minded the man's taste or scent, and at a different time wouldn't have stopped her ministrations so early, but she was on a Mission now, and this man was Going to help her finish!

Standing, Taylor threw one leg over the man, laying it straight on the seat while her other leg was still in the aisle providing support. Crouching down, Taylor spent a few moments rubbing the head against her, enjoying the feeling of the biggest dick she'd yet encountered rubbing up against her. Then without much preamble, Taylor lined him up and sank down, her body lubricated enough to take him all in a single stroke. That was a mistake. The man, bigger than the other two, managed to not only stretch Taylor in ways she hadn't imagined, the angle of the first thrust was such that it hit a point inside her that set her off. She did not just cum, she gushed. Her pussy clamped down on the rod buried inside her and Taylor came like a freight train, contraction after contraction milking the dick inside her for all it was worth, while she squirted girl cum out all over the mans lap and shirt. Halfway through her orgasm Taylor felt the man beneath her start cumming himself, filling her with warmth and setting off her Second orgasm, almost as intense as the first and enough to have Taylor screaming at the top of her lungs, where her first orgasm precluded such noise.

Finally, eventually, the pleasure stopped. The contractions ceased. Taylor's snatch was filled with cum, even now some of it leaking out from between the shaft stretching her and her pussy lips. But all of that paled in comparison to what Taylor had just experienced. It was official, she thought. Orgasms were the greatest thing Ever. Of all time. Eventually, she came back to herself enough to hear the sound of laughter, genuine mirth filling the air, coming from the man who had started this whole thing. The man had finished with the blonde at some point. Evidently cleaning himself only a little, while the blonde lay beside him, sleeping the sleep of the utterly, thoroughly exhausted and content. The man beneath her was beginning to grow soft, and say Taylor stood up, a vague emptiness inside her clenching at her gut. All of the toughs appeared to be knocked out after there rather pathetic exertions, and the man was still laughing, though his shaft was somehow still hard after all the apparent fucking he'd done to the woman, and still sticking up out of his fly. It was the biggest dick Taylor had ever seen, bigger even than the one she'd just discovered Nirvana with, and the vague emptiness inside her clenched worse just looking at it.

" Well, I will be good god damned. You've got a spark, girl. Tell you what, I've already knocked poor Kayden here off my list, but I don't really have a place to stay inside the city at the moment. Why not sit yourself here on my lap, and we can discuss me staying at your place for a while as I do my work, okay?"

And as Taylor moved over, climbing into the man's lap, gasping out loud as he filled her so much that the emptiness went away, she finally realized she had never thought to ask for this mans name. Shuddering a bit at the size of him, Taylor leaned back and asked him, still rolling her hips in a way pleasing to them both.

"Ah-h, I never asked you your name, sir."

"Oh? How rude of me. You can call me Nice Guy. Now, lets see if you aren't as disappointing as sweet Kayden over there, eh girl?"

And as Taylor began to move her hips, not only to face up to the man's challenge, but to fill that bit of emptiness still niggling at her core, she wondered why she had ever thought this was a bad day at all.

Broken Doll

(Автор: DoggySoup)

"Good girl, good girl."

I repeated myself over and over stroking her wavy brown hair. She liked that, showing signs of bliss as her head melted into my abdomen.

"You're a good girl, T— You know that?"

I scolded myself mentally at the slip. She regresses too far back every time. Every time I say her name, she panics, cries, lashes out screaming. Nightmares.

A part of me took some satisfaction over this situation. I'd won. I'd proven myself the stronger person, the one who was a winner, a predator, an alpha.

At the same time, seeing her like this, practically a child in how naive her mindset had become? The false innocence? I almost felt guilty. I felt like I was taking care of her when she lost those closest to her, when she did nothing but come over and cry until she had to go home, or sleep over.

She looked up and yawned as I sat on the couch and she knelt on the floor next to me.

"Ems," she stretched out with a droopy almost smile, "I'm huuungry."

I smiled at that.

"Okay," I said, getting up as she knelt on the floor. "What's ten thousand minus three?"

"Uh, nineteen thousand, nine hundred and ninety seven?" she replied.

It was a makeshift solution to keep her mind occupied every time I was gone elsewhere or busy. I had to make her think abut something else; almost anything. Counting was the best solution. She panics when she's given books. She refuses to read at all nowadays.

I tried music once, and I had to restrain her like I do every night.

"Was I wrong?" she asked with that childlike curiosity. She caught me frowning.

"Oh, nothing at all," I replied as I pressed a few buttons on a custom clock I had designed for me. "Just keep taking threes away, okay?"

She smiled and I got up to grab the restraints and put them on. She offered token resistance, a usual part of the routine. I covered the hands to prevent clawing away at things and the mouth to prevent her choking. I did a quick sweep of the room for any sharp objects and then locked the door.

She sat there, staring at the wall counting away wearing nothing but my restraints. I couldn't suppress a smile at the scene. I won, she lost. She lost so utterly that there was no way for her to recover. So thoroughly broken that even normal clothes were trouble for her to wear. Any reminders of her old life were simply too much, human comforts becoming tortures.

She was the equivalent of a deer mount, in my mind.

I finished cooking dinner for two.

I sat next to her, keeping her firmly restrained to the chair and making sure to use plastic utensils. She was hungry and thus more focused on the food I was holding up for her than the fact she couldn't use her arms.

She practically hummed after every bite. I knew my cooking wasn't that good, but it felt nice to see her smile even as a thin tendril of sauce dripped down her chin. I wiped it off with a finger and she sucked on it softly, moaning.

I'll get her back for making me shudder, I thought.

After dinner was served, I took her to our bedroom. She didn't fight me when I led her onto the bed, then restrained her spread eagle and got ready, stripping off my clothes and putting on a strap-on.

"Hey," I said as I crawled onto her.

"Ems," she drawled out. "Are we playing?"

I kissed her as a response and moved my knee to rub her crotch. She writhed at my attention.

I pulled away and moved up to her ear and then whispered her name softly.

"Taylor."

She gasped as if a hypnotic spell was broken.

"No," she murmured. "No, don't say that!"

"Stop lying to yourself," I said as I slid my finders into her aroused sex. "Taylor, I know you are in there. Come out to play."

"No, no no! I'm not her! I'm not her! I don't wanna be her anymore!"

I couldn't hide my grin as her mouth ran off and her body reacted erotically. She arched under my fingers, trying to make them go deeper in. It was so fun to tease her. I pulled my fingers out, a tendril of juice forming between my index finger, middle finger and her mound.

"Taylor, you want to forget, do you?"

She nodded while waving her pussy around, trying to find my wet hands. I squeezed her nipples and pulled a little, making her arch more in her bindings.

"Yes! Yes I don't want to be her anymore Ems please! Please I wanna forget!"

Her begging was as frantic as it was the first time, the day I finally decided to check up on her after she stopped coming to school those years ago. The day I decided to take my trophy home with me, a reminder of who I am and where the weaklings, the losers belong.

"Well then, Taylor, I suggest you ask very nicely for me to make you forget."

She stopped, sobbing softly before stopping to recollect her will.

"P-please Emma," she began, looking at me with eyes that reeked of heartbreak. "Make me forget."

"Make who?" I asked, grinning lustfully.

She looked at the ceiling.

"Taylor Hebert. Please help Taylor Hebert forget."

I positioned myself slowly, impaling her slightly.

"If you insist," I said as I thrusted into her. She didn't climax instantly as I had worked on her for over a year. I teased her for an hour and then let her climax. The session left her too exhausted to speak.

I untied her, undressed myself and then got into bed. She whimpered as I turned off the lights but she quickly settled down in my embrace for the night.

I knew what I was doing. I was keeping the trauma too fresh to settle away and for her to regain her humanity. Her sanity wasn't going to come back, and I didn't want it to either. She was lucid; lucid enough to understand what was happening but far too deluded to fight it. She didn't want to leave, to try and become normal.

Whatever fight she had left was taken away in the asylum after I broke her, and as a result she tried to abandon everything. Everything that reminded her of her mother, or school, or her dad, or anything that brought her pain. She regressed to pretending to be a child, even at twenty years old.

She even greeted me like an old friend, and when I saw that look I knew I had to take her with me. She was lying, denying her situation.

Not that the staff noticed. I just confirmed it and took her out to stay with an old friend. They didn't even check up on her.

She's mine, and I'm not letting go of my little broken doll.

Spoiler

Mindbreak!Taylor and Emma, from Emma's POV. It's called Broken Doll.

I liked the idea of Taylor undergoing a hentai style mind break, so I wrote one.

Titan

(Автор: Gideon 020)

Prologue: Lab Work

"Are you sure this is safe?" Taylor Hebert asked nervously as she eyed the sprayers set up in the corners of the section of basement as the one who convinced her to come along and take part fiddled with a laptop, "And why the hell did you have me strip? It's freezing down here!"

The petite Japanese girl fiddling with the laptop shrugged as her fingers danced , "Sorry about that; the heater was broken so I just took it apart and used the gas connection to help with the burners and incinerators. And yes, it's completely safe. Baka-Taylor, I told you; the drug that is going to be sprayed is completely safe, non-addictive, and shouldn't cause that much pain when it takes effect."

"Pain?" Taylor's head snapped over to stare at the girl with wide eyes behind her glasses, "What was that about pain?"

"Well..." The Japanese teen scratched the back of her head and Taylor's eyes narrowed at the sheepish expression on her face, "Maybe the lab animals I found all had some pretty high pain reactions. But!" She held up a hand to forestall the coming protest, "That's because their pleasure centres aren't as developed as the one in a human brain is. In fact, I'm quite certain that once it hits your nervous system you'll be feeling more pleasure than pain."

"Remind me again. Why exactly am I doing this Noriko Ida? What insane thought possessed me to agree to letting you use an untested-"

"Animal tested! Humanely too!" Noriko piped up as her fingers continued to dance on the keyboard.

"...untested on humans Tinker-tech strength and durability-enhancing drug that will supposedly let me fight at a mid to high Brute rating with a regenerative factor that ignores things like conservation of mass and energy when in effect. Why, oh why, did I agree to this?"

Noriko looked up from the keyboard, the harsh lights from the ceiling casting the long scar over the left side of her face into stark relief as she adjusted her eye-patch, "Because you became my friend when I was the new student and I helped you with your bullies."

Taylor glanced away at that. Noriko Ida was a nice person but she had never held any truth to her tales of being the daughter of a former Yakuza hit-man who ran away with his boss' daughter. Then when Emma had started to pick on her after Noriko brought a packed lunch from home containing what Taylor had assumed was Japanese food, the petite brunette had taken one of the steel chopsticks and slammed it right between the fingers of the hand Emma had placed on the table.

Taylor could still remember that sweet smile on the one-eyed girl's face as she drew close to Emma's pale one. She was also just close enough to hear Noriko whisper, "Don't fuck with someone who can fuck back harder and better than you. Fuck off, before I ruin you."

That was the day, Taylor remembered, that the ABB kids at Winslow stopped trying to recruit the scarred, eye-patched girl as well. She sighed, "Okay, you got me there, but I'm pretty sure that's only to help you in the lab. Why me for a test-subject?"

Noriko giggled, "Isn't it obvious? I can't test the effect of my serum on my powers because I need to be a baseline. A control sample. You're the only human I know that I can trust not to talk about this, and you're the only person with powers that I know." She shrugged, "It'll be educational, seeing how this serum will interact with a Master power like your bug control. Did I ever thank you for revealing your secret to me?"

Taylor shrugged, "You revealed you were a Tinker first...it didn't feel right to leave you in the dark." She looked at the sprayers again, "Okay, run me through this. What is going to happen?"

"Well, first you'll place your glasses in the plastic container so they don't get the chemicals on them. Once that happens the sprayers will activate and begin spraying you down. The marked position is the position best calculated to provide total body coverage for the serum to have an evenly distributed rate of growth for your muscles and skeletal structure. Now, according to my animal tests, this is where it will get interesting."

"Interesting how?" Taylor inquired as she placed her glasses in the container as Noriko stood up and walked over to a large chemical canister, probably taken from the Rail Yards or one of the ruined factories near there. As Noriko quickly began turning a knob before walking away to resume typing, Taylor watched as rust-coloured liquid began to flow through a clear hose and into the pumping system for the sprayers.

"Take your position Taylor. And it's interesting because of how uneven it will be. The skeleton will primarily elongate certain bones in the arms and legs, while thickening them along with your spine and ribcage. This thankfully means that you're not going to walking around with basically meat-balloons on your body but actual muscle that is going to be pretty damn heavy."

She tapped a button and a holographic projector made from scavenged (Taylor also imagined more than a few things in the lab were also made from stolen goods or even stolen outright) materials displayed a 3D model of Taylor. Luckily, the projection was close enough to allow Taylor to see it clearly without her glasses as Noriko continued.

"Skeletal growth is...random. I can't pin down exactly how much taller you'll be. At the lower end of the scale you'll likely be about six-foot even, perhaps six-five." The model grew taller to match another model marked 'Adult Male', and so far it seemed fairly normal, although Taylor could easily see just how long her arms and legs were stretched.

"Ick, as if I didn't get enough taunts about my figure as it was." Taylor complained with a grimace before smirking at the sound of Noriko's musical laughter.

"Don't worry, it will make the muscles look somewhat proportional, but that's the second point. I can't give you an exact ratio of growth for your muscles." The model of Taylor began to shift as various muscle groups began to swell and push outwards while Taylor felt out the area with a group of bugs.

So far Noriko's neighbourhood was quiet. Hopefully that would remain that way while this experiment was under way before Noriko's voice brought Taylor's attention back to her, "Minimum rate of expansion and density increase is confirmed to be around the 100-percent mark, but you could be seeing a possible two to even six hundred-percent increase in total mass and density."

As the computer-Taylor grew to emphasise the difference, the real Taylor felt a little uneasy, "I kind wish my breasts would grow too. Do you think you could-"

"Nope. That one is way too dangerous to give you."

Taylor pouted, "It can't be that dangerous can it?"

"I dunno," Noriko replied in a deadpan tone as she glanced up, "Do you consider your breasts exploding to not be a health risk?" Taylor wondered if her face as green as she felt, and saw Noriko's nod as confirmation, "Yeah. I'll probably work on it, but right now I want to make sure I can use this on you without killing you either."

"I'm still not sold on this, particularly the pain part." Taylor responded. Noriko snorted in reply.

After a few seconds of silence, the whine of the electric pumps starting up was a welcome relief to Taylor as Noriko finished typing and began turning on various scanners and other equipment, including a video camera, "Well, you can't back out now. Hold your arms out, close your eyes, breath through your nose, and try not to use your powers when you feel anything, anything at all. Whether it's pain or a sudden burst of pleasure, don't use your powers until the transformation is complete."

Taylor glared at Noriko's blurry figure, "If I die or have to be treated by Panacea, I'm telling your Mom."

"On my honour as a proud Japanese girl, I swear you will be fine." Noriko's figure shifted just as the sprayers came alive and began drenching her in the rust-coloured chemical that began soaking into her skin and hair. After that, there was no more conversation as Taylor concentrated on keeping it out of her eyes and Noriko fiddled with the devices aimed at the test chamber.

The spray continued for several minutes and Taylor so far didn't feel anything strange or out of the ordinary before they cut off, dripping red liquid down onto the soaked concrete floor as it flowed into recessed drains. Looking around while slicking her soaked hair back to try and squeeze out some of the chemicals, Taylor shrugged, "I guess it's not working."

Noriko didn't say a word as Taylor removed her glasses and slipped them over her eyes as she kept talking, "Or does it have a-aaaagh!" She doubled over as she felt lances of agony ripple across her spine, "Oh god! What was that? Feels like my skin is on fire!"

"Taylor," Noriko's voice was cold and precise, "Turn around and show my your back. Quickly."

Shakily rising back onto her feet Taylor forced her body, now feeling like an army of centipedes were crawling under her skin, to turn and display her back as Noriko made a noise of interest, "Hmm, interesting. The bone growth of your spine is actually out stripping the rest of your body. Taylor, does everything look like it's shrinking in height to you?"

Taylor blinked away tears as fresh pain tore through her back, "Y-y-Yes! It all looks like it's shrinking! Noriko! Please! What's going o-AAAAAGH!" She staggered as a wet tearing sound echoed in the basement.

"I'm so glad my parents are on vacation in Vegas." Noriko remarked as she check the read-out on a scanner. "Okay Taylor, you want the bad news or the good news first?"

"Ba-AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

"Okay, the bad news is this: My calculations were off. And I mean so way off I might as well come out and say that I fucked up somewhere. What's happening to you isn't just some kind of freak accident. This was always going to happen."

Taylor struggled to remain standing as her back hunched forward with ugly popping and ripping sounds, the girl suddenly feeling something sharp and realising that she was growing fangs! She struggled to speak through the pain and small bursts of intense pleasure now making themselves known, "And the gooOOOOOooooh...."

"That is the good news. This was always going to happen! Taylor! I think I figured it out! There's simulation data here that I always initially assumed was junk is actually a means to predict not just the growth of your body, but also what could be changes to your powers!"

Taylor didn't reply with words, instead expressing her opinion with a violent, animal roar as she slammed her balled fists into the concrete and cracked the material, watching as sharp claws began to sprout from the tips of her fingers while the various muscles in her body began to finally swell just as a wave of pure pleasure erupted inside her.

She didn't resist, just let loose a growling moan as bones cracked and popped and skin stretched to tear in places, exposing pulsing muscle as Noriko simply sat there taking notes, adjusting a device or two while watching the spectacle.

Her view was all the more enjoyable since Taylor's butt was pointed towards the Japanese girl and Noriko watched Taylor's swollen, pulsing, pussy eject stream after stream of a clear, thick liquid that pooled on the chemical-stained floor like partially-melted gelatine. And in the cold air of the basement, she could see the steam coming from Taylor's mouth and her drooling pussy.

Idly, Noriko decided to make Peach Jello and some Melonpan later, she knew that those were Taylor's favourites when she stayed the night, and she would have to since there was no way she could go home as she was.

Her attention returned to Taylor as she noted the rate of muscle growth and her mind went over the data she was being presented as Taylor continued to growl, roar and moan while her body continued to expand.

'Hmm. I'd say biceps are about twenty-eight inches...no, thirty-two. Body looks about proportionate for the growth experienced so about...I want to say nine feet and eight inches. Impressive. Should I ask her to present her chest? Mayb-'

Taylor roared, spinning around to present her mutated, hyper-muscular upper body now firmly supported by a pair of massive clawed legs while her taloned hands scraped the chemical-hardened plastic barrier with a scraping noise; Noriko stared at the claw marks left on a material she had seen block one of Lung's fire blasts without a scorch mark, before focusing on the pulsing, twitching bumps that had formed along Taylor's upper body.

'Huh, that's something.'

Noriko watched as Taylor's breasts, her main ones her mind labelled helpfully, began to swell rapidly while the Japanese teen mentally compared the relative cup sizes in her head. She managed to reach basketballs when they finished swelling, capped with a set of rather impressively large nipples on compact areolae.

Noriko's gaze shifted downwards to see that underneath the main breasts, a set of four secondaries were now slowing their growth into an H-Cup and a G-Cup respectively. Still, they looked fairly small in comparison to the massive muscles surrounding them, but Noriko had a feeling most people would focus on the optical illusion caused by the increase size in relation to Taylor's head.

'No actual shrinkage, and I doubt she's actually dumber or more animalistic despite the noises she's making. Just the way she looks with those shoulders and pecs. Hmm, I should probably try to get her attention.'

Noriko stood up, careful not to block the camera's view as Taylor's growth finally slowed to a halt, leaving the transformed teen kneeling with eyes closed, steam escaping her mouth with each exhalation and Noriko noted the small trail of steam from Taylor's vagina as well.

'Much higher core temperature. Makes sense. I'll have to check the deep-penetration scans to check to see if that junk data related to the chest organs is correct. If it is, then it would explain how conservation of energy and mass are being defeated.'

"How do you feel?" Taylor's eyes snapped open at the question and Noriko blinked as two massive fists smashed into the plastic barrier.

"How do I feel?" Her voice was still feminine and still rather attractive, and Noriko considered that the deep animal growling only served to enhance that same attractiveness, "I feel like I had molten metal poured into me followed by what had to be the most intense fuck of my life. So yeah, I feel great right now..."

The fists unfurled, talons dragging down the barrier, "I'm also pissed off! What the hell Noriko! I look like a freak!" She growled, shifting her body as she tried to stand, forced into a hunched position due to her height, "You had damn well be able to reverse this!"

"Who do you think I am? Kid Win? Unlike that retard, I am a certified genius, so of course I can reverse it!" Noriko pointed to a clear liquid on a work-bench, "Universal reversion serum, it'll work first time, guaranteed. Even my simulations aren't wrong about that."

"So?" Taylor rumbled, "Let me out and turn me back!"

"You sure I can't get some basic movement and power-testing data off you first Taylor?" Noriko asked in reply with hopeful eyes. Taylor's claws penetrated through the plastic as yellow eyes with strange, alien pupils glared at her, prompting a sigh, "Fine. Let me drop the barrier. Oh, and Taylor?"

A growl, "What?"

"You dropped your glasses."

Taylor blinked and glanced behind her to see her glasses, thankfully still intact, lying on the ground. Carefully reaching over, she picked them up and placed them back into the container so they wouldn't get damaged. After doing some fiddling, the plastic barrier was gently lowered the ground as Noriko inspected the talon-marks.

"Damn," She whistled, "You penetrated five inches of plastic that had been reinforced by one of my Tinker-chemicals. That proves something about the Brute rating powering those muscles of yours." Standing up from her crouch, she pulled out an Earth-Aleph made digital camera, "Before we turn you back, I want to do some measurements and take a few photos of your body and then we'll...Taylor, stop playing with your breasts."

Taylor jerked and her massive hands dropped from where they had been cupping her main breasts while one of them toyed with the two sets of secondaries. Her bestial but still female face smiled a toothy, fang-filled grin, "Okay Noriko, maybe there's just one advantage to this. Just one mind you, because I don't know how this..." She waved at her massive, mutated body, "How this could be a benefit. Not only that, it feels weird using my powers, like something is supposed to be happening."

Noriko made to answer when an alarm beeped. Spitting out a curse in Japanese, she dashed over to a wall terminal made from various computers and studied the screen.

She turned to Taylor, "It's the Empire and ABB; two sets of contacts coming from opposite ends of the street. Looks like a land grab."

Taylor nodded, "Give me the reversion serum then."

Noriko shook her head, "It takes four hours for it to fully flush your body and transform something back, and they're already moving. Fuck, if only we had some time you could probably try and use your powers to fight them off with my help."

Taylor's lips curled in a snarl, "Great..." She looked around, considering her options, before huffing a rumbling sigh, "Noriko, do you have any idea what sort of changes might have been done to my powers. Because I know something has changed."

"Not sure, that was what I was hoping you'd help me with. If you use your powers, you'll be flying blind. But I do know that nothing short of a fully ramped-up Lung or Crawler is going to leave any scars on you. Which is good because Lung is out there according to my sensors."

Taylor held up a hand and studied her talons and the killing-sharp edges on them. Her face set in a determined expression as she placed a large hand on Noriko's shoulder.

"I'll go."

Noriko turned to Taylor, who smiled and revealed all of her sharp teeth.

"Might as well see just what I can do."


* * *

Chapter 1: Street Fight

Taylor studied her body in the mirror Noriko provided while her best friend, her only friend really, continued to monitor the Empire 88 and ABB movements with her equipment. Right now a steady stream of japanese curse words filled the air while Taylor turned her body to check out her back, grimacing as she saw what had interested Noriko so much.

Her spine had torn through the skin which had peeled back to reveal bone and rippling, exposed muscle. What caught her interest was the thick, flexible cartilage locking her spine together and how thick the bones actually looked now that she had placed eyes on them. She flexed her back muscles in a clumsy imitation of what a bodybuilder might do, watching muscles swell except for two prominent bulges just under her shoulders running parallel with her spine on both sides.

What Taylor didn't quite understand was the presence of sharp spurs on her spinal bones. Was that some kind of defence? She could understand the claws and the enhanced strength was pretty obvious when Taylor looked at her swollen arms. If she was any shorter she doubted she could keep them at her sides and even with her massive nine-foot-tall frame her bulging muscles meant that it took a bit of effort to do something like touch her nose or under her eyes.

Speaking of eyes and nose, Taylor had told Noriko about her newly-enhanced sense of smell and how she could filter what she was smelling to which Noriko had quickly thrown together a quick test of her abilities followed by a test to see if Taylor's new eyes could see in more than one spectrum or wavelength. Not bad when her nose had sunken into her face.

So far she didn't have X-Ray vision but she could see heat and in total darkness which was in line with what Noriko called 'a basic predatory ability set' before returning to the scanners.

"Okay, looks like they've stopped near Highpoint Street." Noriko's voice brought Taylor out of her musings and the giant teenage mutant strode over to her friend's location with heavy, thumping steps as the Tinker continued, "Hmm, no sign of Oni Lee, Kamaitachi, or Hone-Onna. Not even Bakuda. Lung's alone with a bunch of normals while it looks like the Empire sent Hookwolf, Beserker and Freya to do this."

Taylor's bestial, nearly snake-like, face twisted into an icy expression of animalistic hate, "Freya..." Her central slit-pupil narrowed as the six smaller ones widened and her hand gripped Noriko's chair hard enough to make the plastic creak. Memories of the woman flowed into her mind and it was only when she noticed Noriko staring at her that Taylor realised that the vibration she was feeling in her chest was a low, hateful, growl.

'Freya...I'll make you pay.'

Taylor turned away from the screen, "I'm going."

"Wait!" Noriko shouted, "You need these!" She grabbed a pair of devices and ran over to Taylor, motioning for the mutated teen to kneel, "I still need data on your body so I can work on refining the serum, so I need to fix this Bio-Monitor to your spine." She carefully clambered up Taylor's back, using her striated, bulging muscles along with the spurs on her spine as hand-holds before Taylor felt a pair of small hands roughly shove something roughly ovoid in shape into a gap in her neck.

As cool, wiggling tendrils began to dig into her veins, nerves, bones and muscles, Taylor felt Noriko fix something to her slightly shrunken ears which had fused into the sides of her head, "Okay, this Multi-Form Communicator will morph to remain in your ear while the throat mic will burrow under your skin for maximum pick-up quality. You should only need to whisper to talk to me."

Taylor nodded as she felt that begin to happen, "Thanks. So what do you mean by refining the serum?" She waited until Noriko hopped off her body and straightened enough to let her move freely. Perhaps there was an advantage to having a slightly crazy friend with a Tinker/Thinker/Trump power?

"Well, obviously I want to create a variant that allows the subject to retain their human appearance. But at the same time a fully-bestial transformation might be handy to create since your current facial appearance would easily defeat Mugshot or Armsmaster's own facial recognition devices." She gently traced a finger in an open rent in Taylor's skin, "Hmm, it's strange how there's so little blood from your skin opening in places."

"Figure it out later," Taylor growled as she scratched under her arm, before rubbing at the base of her spine, "Right now I just want to go ou-owowowoOW!" She fell to all fours, growling fiercely as the skin under her arms and just above her butt began to bulge grotesquely in time with sharp cracks, snaps and wet tearing sounds as Noriko watched with wide eyes.

With a moan and a powerful orgasm, the skin tore open with only a small trickle of blood to reveal bulging vestigial lumps that quickly began swelling and lengthening, bones cracking apart to reveal fingers that lengthened before long talons formed and burst out of the flesh in brief spurts of blood.

At Taylor's rear, Noriko watched as the quivering lump of muscle and bone continued to lengthen and flex, thickening at the base to support the supple, whip-like length as it shivered before coiling and twitching. As it flexed, Noriko watched the tip begin to bulge as muscle split and swelled to allow a long bladed spur to sprout from the flesh above a muscular sphincter.

She was about to try and grab the newly-grown tail when the muscle flexed and with a slight hiss something slammed into the concrete wall. Walking over, Noriko studied the long, sharp barb that was oozing a clear, pale-yellow liquid.

'Okay, she can shoot venom-filled, hollow barbs. I definitely should be studying this further, but I can't. Fucking ABB, fucking E88, can't let a scientist study in piece.'

Turning away, Noriko watched as Taylor staggered to her feet, two newly-grown and swelling arms flexing and shifting underneath her originals as the mutated girl turned to look at her tail before staring with a deadpan expression at Noriko as she rumbled, "Any other surprises I should expect?"

Noriko shrugged, "Unless those bulges on your back burst open to reveal biological factories that let you make your own freakish insects, I'd say you're done." She glanced at a screen, "Listen, if you're going to do this, you need to go now. Your face and body is going to make you unidentifiable and I don't want the fight between the ABB and E88 to start attracting attention from the Full Moon Army."

Taylor grimaced, "Shit, I forgot. We're right on the edge of their territory, aren't we?" She had forgotten about the Full Moon Army, and if she knew what that gang of transforming monsters was like, they wouldn't take any combat near their territory lightly, especially their leader Luna and her lieutenants the Cerberus Triplets.

Their territory ended near Highpoint Street and was unofficially regarded as theirs. If Lung and Iron Rain tried to grab this stretch of road containing a number of classy stores and restaurants, there was a good chance Luna would get involved as well. And if that happened...Taylor's tail whipped down, the bone spur cutting into the concrete, "What should I do? There's not many insects in the area I can gather and use, and my power still feels weird."

Noriko shrugged helplessly, "Well, I think your multi-tasking ability is proving itself useful. I mean, you're controlling those new arms and that tail like you were born with them. So all I can recommend is that you move fast and hit hard, knock them out of action before they get really started. The normals you could take down with a punch or two, but don't be afraid to use those claws on the Capes, especially Lung."

Taylor flexed all four of her hands, staring down at the long talons at the ends of her fingers, "Don't worry, I won't hold back. If Lung gets too powerful he could wreck the entire place. But why is he doing this alone?"

Noriko snorted, "Easy. It's because he got wrecked by Luna and the Cerberus Triplets two weeks ago. He's doing this out of pride. I'd say Iron Rain is here just for the territory, her projectile generation makes her perfect for taking on the FMA." She turned to Taylor, "There's a secret tunnel you can use to exit. The code for the door is 7756."

"Got it," Taylor growled with a grim smile as she thumped off towards the door in question, "Keep an eye on them, and tell me if the Full Moon starts to move. Don't want to face off against Luna without knowing what I can do with this body."

"Understood. Good luck Taylor, and I'll have the Reversion Serum ready for you when you get back. Kick their asses."

Nodding at Noriko's words, Taylor quickly tapped the code into the door and entered the secret tunnel. As she stomped through the slightly-tight space she snorted at the fact she was in a secret escape tunnel. Probably one of several.

'My best friend's family is so paranoid they have multiple escape tunnels. She also mutated me and I'm going to fight parahumans including the parahuman who fought Leviathan to a standstill alongside Amaterasu and Empress Himiko. When did my life get so weird?'

She exited into the backyard of the large property owned by the Ida family and groaned in relief as she stood to her full nine-foot height, flexing her massive muscles as she stared out into the late afternoon light before turning in the direction of Highpoint Street, "Okay, time to see what I can do."

Flexing her legs, feeling muscles bunch up and swell in preparation, her tail swishing in anticipation, the mutated teenage girl launched off the ground, flying through the air with nothing but pure muscle-power as she crossed several blocks before landing with a crunching of pavement, eyes wide and breathing heavily in shock.

"H-holy shit!" Looking around to get her bearings, Taylor felt her tail actually wagging at how far she had managed to travel with just a single jump, "Did you get all that Noriko?"

"Affirmative, that was impressive." Noriko's voice smoothly sounded in her ear, "A few more jumps and you should be able to land right in the middle of the fight. Better hurry, they're noticing each other."

"Got it." Taylor flexed her legs, gathering bugs, before she paused, "Woah...Noriko, my range has increased!"

"How far?"

"I could only manage two blocks before...but now I can feel bugs nearly all the way to Highpoint Street!" Taylor's mind swept across the insects she could detect and she began gathering a swarm near the brewing fight out of the field of view of the Empire and ABB. She ignored the way the bulges on her back were twitching and pulsing.

With her luck, they'd turn into a pair of wings or something, so Taylor tried to ignore the strangely pleasant sensations on her back as she flexed her legs and jumped again.

As she rocketed into the air, Taylor considered the extent of the mutations she had undergone and spoke quietly into the communicator burrowed under her skin, "So do you think I'll mutate further if I keep fighting? Like some kinda freak mix of Lung and Crawler?" She named the only survivor of the Ellisburg Massacre; a woman who only appeared to hunt someone only she knew of, although her powers meant she was barely human any more.

"Probably not. I'd say that the bulges on your back are the last, but I have no idea if they'll manifest or how they will."

"I think it's related to my bug control. They go crazy when I start controlling insects and the like." That was true, even now the large bulges were actually growing, she could feel them, so whatever she was doing by controlling insects was encouraging the mutation, "I'm nearly at Highpoint Street, coming into land."

"Hit them as hard as you can from the start, I think-"

Whatever Noriko was about to say was drowned out by a sonic boom as Taylor's enhanced eyesight showed a dark shape forming out of thin air and launching towards one end of Highpoint Street as she descended for landing. Iron Rain, it had to be, and she wasn't playing casual if she was launching one of her distinctive Black Spears at Mach speeds.

'She must want to take Highpoint Street quickly as well, so she's going to take down the ABB and then fight off Luna and the FMA. Gotta do this fast!'

She landed on the street before Highpoint with another crunch of shattering pavement and she growled loudly, trying to psych herself for the fight to come as she fell on all six limbs and prepared for a sprint, tail waving menacingly, "Okay, you can do this Taylor. Hit them hard, hit them fast. Don't stop until they're all taken out."

She smiled toothily, "Let's do this." She charged, kicking up pavement, towards the fight that was now just starting. Her feet thundered across the pavement and road as her eyes focused on a group of E88 gang members readying their weapons and preparing to fire. A rumbling growl started in her chest as she spotted who was directing them.

Taylor didn't attempt to suppress the animal roar that escaped her bestial lips before mounting a car to leap forward with a spin that sent her tail lashing forward towards the E88 gangmembers and the Cape just behind them.

The gangers didn't even have time to do more than turn in her direction and shout before the muscular, whip-like tail slammed into them to send the three men and one woman flying down the street as the bladed bone spur flew towards Freya's neck as Taylor roared like an animal with murder in her eyes.

'I'll kill you!'

The armoured female cape's hands flashed and a glowing sword struck the bone and deflected it with a spray of sparks as Taylor roared again, halting the fighting as she drew her naked nine-foot body fully upright, growling all the while as she felt her muscles pulsing from the adrenaline running through her.

"What the hell is this freak?" An ABB gangmember asked out loud and Taylor's head snapped in his direct with a feral snarl that was easily heard across the street. The man gulped as he raised his assault rifle.

Tail lashing, Taylor studied the situation and began forming a plan as her body snarled and growled at the various opponents she was facing. Her main focus however, was on Freya as the woman made another glowing sword and expertly flourished them as if sensing Taylor's intent.

"Hookwolf! Schnell!" Taylor's head twisted towards Hookwolf as the Changer shifted into a lupine mass of blades and hooks, laughing madly as he charged, clearly intent on shredding her exposed flesh. As he charged closer, Freya lashed out with her swords to try and distract this new monster that had shown up.

One arm lashed out and grabbed Freya, the other rearing back for a bunch as Taylor grabbed and tore out a light-pole with her other two arms as Hookwolf laughed, "What the fuck do you think that is going to do?"

Taylor didn't speak, only roared again as her fist smashed into Freya's face, knocking it back in a spray of blood. The lightpole came down in a sweeping strike caught Hookwolf on the side, the power of Taylor's enhanced musculature lifting him off the road and sending him flying as Iron Rain launched another one of her spears just as Taylor flashed her talons and went to decapitate the comatose Freya.

The projectile struck with a boom as Taylor roared in agony; the impact had torn away her upper left arm, forcing her to let go of Freya from the pain, seconds before another one slammed into her chest, long spines on the spear shredding flesh as it over-penetrated and impaled itself on a wall. Reeling with pain, Taylor's vision went red as she first felt no heartbeat, then felt it again as flesh twisted and grew into a replacement heart before skin, bone and fat grew over the massive hole.

'Shit. If I take any more...'

Taylor roared again, making sure to keep up the charade that she was some feral creature before grabbing a wrecked car. Muscles bulged in all four of her arms as she hefted the vehicle and with another roar she threw it towards Iron Rain, who promptly slammed spears into it.

Flesh twisting and swelling as her arms finished regenerating, Taylor unleashed her secret weapon as insects swarmed in from the side-alleys and engulfed the remaining E88 gangmembers as she charged Iron Rain. The woman took one look at the monster heading towards her, saw her troops fighting off a swarm of insects that had to be under the beast's control, and knew she had lost the fight.

A rain of spears slammed into Taylor's chest from above as Iron Rain waved with her hand, "Fall back! Fall back now!"

"But what about Freya?" One of the men swatting at flies and other insects shouted, "That freak is between us and her!"

Hookwolf charged out of the storefront he had been knocked into, tackling Taylor into another building, before he bounded over to Freya and grabbed her gently. Seeing the rescue done, Iron Rain sent another deluge of projectiles, now in the form of arrows, towards where Taylor was struggling to recover and gave the order, "Go! Now!"

As the Empire 88 fled, Taylor managed to stumble out of the store, angrily growling; her body was covered in arrows and spears as her four arms and tail worked them loose and began tearing them out in sprays of blood and shredded flesh. Nearby, several ABB turned green at the gory display while Lung crossed his arms, before striding forward.

"You fight well girl," Lung's address caused Taylor's head to snap towards him and half-blinded with adrenaline and blood-lust the girl could only snarl and growl, tail whipping behind her. She registered a voice telling her to drive Lung away, and instinct told her to trust the voice as she lowered her body for a charge.

"I respect your power, but you will not win against me." Silvery scales began to push through Lung's skin but Taylor ignored it in favour of the way her back was pulsing with intense heat. Before Lung could continue, Taylor screamed as pleasure and agony ripped through her back and hunched over, exposing the pulsing and bulging sacs on her back.

Before anyone could say anything or react the skin holding them in split apart; fleshy membranous masses pushed outwards, pulsing furiously as

Taylor registered a flood of instinctive information and concentrated. Within seconds a series of bumps began to move along the surface of the membranes before Lung saw something pierce through as Taylor groaned.

Pushing through the membranes, driven onwards by her powers, large winged insects with dagger-like heads and pulsing abdomens emerged to skitter along Taylor's back before taking flight, circling the mutated girl in an ever-increasing swarm.

Breathing heavily, pushing this new-found aspect of her powers further, Taylor shifted her arms and flexed, causing the membranes to expand like a pair of malformed balloons before, with what could only be described as a wet pop, they exploded in a spray of blood and other, unidentifiable fluids to send hundreds of the twisted insects into the air.

Surrounded by a cloud of normal bugs and her own freakish creations, Taylor's head rose to stare at Lung with a rumbling growl.

To his credit, Lung didn't visibly flinch, because it was his men that lost their nerve first as one of them screamed and fired his rifle at Taylor. Within seconds, all of them were firing and Taylor bellowed a wordless cry of challenge in return before charging Lung, her swarm sweeping forward like a wave.

Flames engulfed the leader of the ABB as he started his own charge, before he saw the tail whip forward—

Lung staggered back as he felt a series of impacts on his chest, a hand tearing out a barb before he incinerated it and charged again, "Poison? You think that can stop Lung?"

The first insects slammed into his still vulnerable flesh as he began transforming, burrowing before exploding like grenades to tear out gobbets of flesh that were rapidly replaced as his regeneration kicked in to repair the damage. They met as one arm flowed past two to slam into Taylor's face as her own fists smashed into his chest and stomach.

Lung snarled, his vision blurring from the poison in his system as his regeneration began burning it out of his circulation. He wasn't going to lose to some monstrous whore, and his mask flexed and warped to try and keep its owner concealed before it simply gave up and fell away to reveal a draconic face that snarled at Taylor's own bestial visage.

Talons flashed as four arms slashed across Lung's body, a tail stabbing into his side as Lung responded with a stream of flames into her face. Blinded, a set of talons flailed before digging into Lung's armpits, cutting veins and flesh, but the more experienced parahuman simply used his steadily increasing weight begin forcing the younger one down as he laughed roughly.

"F'ck oo, oo t'nk oo c'n be't me?" Lung snarled through misshaped lips as his body became steadily more draconic before incinerating the insects streaming towards him. With a huff, he fired a blast of fire into Taylor's chest, eliciting a scream of pain.

Her agony-riddled mind racing, Taylor's eyes searched for a weakness before they settled on an area still somewhat vulnerable to attack. Her tail lashed upwards, the spur stabbing deep into the inside of Lung's hip to penetrate the artery there before she instinctively flexed a muscle in her tail to pump venom into the wound as blood poured out.

As Lung released her with a bellow of pain, Taylor's four arms whipped upwards the rake her talons deep into his chest before rising and stabbing deep, tearing downwards and backing away as she disembowelled the man.

Slowly, staggering backwards as the massive dose of what Taylor instinctively knew was a potent venom worked it's way through Lung's weakened system; blood streamed from the deep gashes on his leg and abdomen and Lung stared with unfocused eye at her as his regeneration worked overtime to keep him alive.

'He doesn't need to be awake to heal.'

Without a word or any sort of sound, Taylor strode forward with fists clenched and before Lung could try and retaliate she launched four haymakers into his face, sending the giant draconic parahuman to the ground with a crash. Taylor snarled as he saw he was still conscious, but before she could finish the job she heard the sound of an engine.

'Shit, Protectorate. I can't let them find me, and my head feels like it's in a vice.'

Turning with a huff, Taylor started running away from Highpoint Street, her tail disappearing around a corner just as she heard vans and Armsmaster's bike turning the corner.

As Taylor ran, the adrenaline in her system fading, she finally allowed herself to register the pain steadily throbbing across her body as she stumbled and recovered before continuing to run back to Noriko's house, "Oh god!"

She shook her head, "N-Noriko...are you there?"

"Oh thank god. You went on a rampage and wouldn't respond. Do you remember anything?"

"Yeah, I remember the whole thing. I think whatever this serum did to me also messed with my head. There's no way I could have gotten that mad so easily upon seeing...Freya." She growled the name before shaking her head, "Did you get enough data?"

"Oh hell yes I did. And you're right, there's signs of physical and chemical changes to the brain; it looks like in exchange for not suddenly going insane from the transformation your emotional responses became less inhibited. I'd say you're actually less inhibited in general actually, which might be a good thing, it might be a bad thing. Double-edged sword and all that."

Taylor nodded as she rounded a corner and jumped, flying across some streets to land on the grass of a small park before running towards the start of the street where Noriko's house was, "Did you...did you see what happened with my back?"

"Yup, and you've already regenerated the damage and are starting to produce embryos. You've got a pair of what are essentially biological factories on your back, probably the final mutation as a result of the lack of insects. I got a little data from them as well. You're in luck, you instinctively ensured they can't breed."

"Oh...good. I'm enough of a freak as it is, I don't want to be the next Nilbog." Taylor responded with considerable relief, "So...can you turn me back now?"

Noriko laughed over the communicator as Taylor reached the front door and saw her friend open it as she removed the headset she was wearing,

"Come on, I got one waiting for you but I need to remove that Bio-Monitor and the Communicator. You gave me gold, Taylor, gold!"

"Yay," Taylor remarked dryly and joined her friend in laughing as she shifted her freakish body back into the house.

When the morning came and the pair had to go to school, it was a Taylor with clear skin, bright eyes and an obvious lack of muscles and gross mutation that stepped out as Noriko fiddled with a bulky-looking PDA.

"Welp, I think I can refine the product and make the variants I want thanks to your data. Damn, who knew you could be so vicious in a fight?"

Taylor blushed, "I think that was more being transformed into a monster than anything else."

Noriko shrugged, "Maybe. Maybe not. Still, I'll have to find a way to do some virtual testing of the new serums and the-" She stopped as Taylor grabbed her shoulder, looking away with a blush.

"Um, actually...I kinda liked it. So...I guess I could do this again." She sent a glare at Noriko's smile, "But only if you agree to test it on yourself as well! If I'm going to be a freak, you have to as well!"

Noriko started laughing.


* * *

Chapter 2: Amelia's New Friends

Taylor always found Arcadia to be the kind of place that while better than a place like Winslow, was just as bad in some respects. The glamour of being the school that 'the Wards, New Wave and Altered went to' along with the fact that a student could potentially have powers meant that there wasn't any overt bullying.

'Sure, I don't get tripped or teased openly while surrounded within sight and earshot of teachers like with Emma and Sophia, but there's still bullying in High School, no matter how polite everyone is to their faces.'

Taylor's eyes cast over to the clique surrounding the unofficial queens of the school; Victoria Dallon and Uk Jong Park, Glory Girl and the Altered calling herself Blood Siren, busy greeting and gossiping with their ever-shifting circle of sycophants and hangers-on looking to get some status from knowing the two hottest girls in school, especially the slender Korean with the large bat wings.

Taylor rolled her eyes. She had transferred with Noriko to Arcadia thanks to their respective parents finding out just how much of a shithole it was on Noriko's part and Taylor's Mom finding out about Emma's bullying.

'Having tenure in the university certainly opens doors, or in this case a place in an exclusive high school. I wonder where Noriko is, she said she'd meet me before classes started.'

Taylor turned a corner and caught a glimpse of her best friend, right as she slammed into another person and they both tumbled to the ground, "Oof!"

"Ah!"

As she recovered, Taylor blinked as she realised who she had bumped into when she fixed her glasses, "Oh damn, Amy Dallon? I'm so sorry!"

The brown-haired, freckled girl sighed as she began gathering her books alongside Taylor, "Don't worry about it, I wasn't looking where I was going."

She finished gathering her books and dropped papers before looking at Taylor, "I've never seen you around. Transfer?"

Taylor nodded, "Yeah, me and my best friend came in from Winslow High. Our parents didn't think we were getting a good enough education."

Amy Dallon nodded with a sigh, "Yeah, I've heard a lot of talk in my family, and their teams, of getting some PRT or government-assigned funding to clean up Winslow for a while now. Hell, you know that's where Altered families are sending their kids?"

Taylor nodded, she was familiar with the Altered; it wasn't hard to miss the people from Earth-Zayin who had been forcefully deported because of the simple fact that they had powers. It wasn't entirely undeserved though, Altered were just as dangerous as Parahumans and a lot more common.

"I heard something about that. Scholarship spaces right?" Taylor looked over at a few other students, "Hard to believe that this city is officially designated as a prison."

Amy grimaced, "It's sickening. Did you know that when New Wave approached the Earth-Zayin government and ours for the contract to patrol and do peacekeeping in the Altered District the Japanese ambassador from Zayin actually described the Altered in the same vein as animals and monsters? They even wanted immediate executions if they caused trouble."

Taylor goggled at Amy, "What? Really? I mean...I heard that Earth-Zayin was really xenophobic but that's just insane!"

Amy nodded, "And utterly immoral. I don't know what happened on Earth-Zayin, but they're really against people with powers." Amy checked her schedule, "So, it's nearly time for class. Who do you have first?"

"Mrs. Eikawa." Taylor replied and Amy smiled.

"Really? So do I, come on I can guide you." The two girls immediately started walking in one direction, the brunette shooting a sad glance at Victoria Dallon who was still talking with her clique, which Taylor picked up on.

"What happened between you two? I was out of town but I know that one day you two were close, and the next day you had moved out into your own place and New Wave was practically giving you the cold shoulder."

Amy sighed, "It's my mother. Or rather, my adopted mother and her fucking phobia of my past. You know that I volunteered at Brockton Bay General?"

Taylor nodded, "I remember, you were smiling when you publicly announced that you'd be working there, and also going for a medical degree."

Amy nodded, "Yep. I even got a deferral from Arcadia to take some courses and do a brief internship. I was happy doing it you know? I wanted to help people, to cure terminal cases and genetic conditions, and I thought my family would finally be proud of me."

She sighed, "But it wasn't good enough. She never thought it was good enough; I was always being pushed to do longer hours, to treat more and more trivial cases for publicity, to heal the Protectorate and soon the expanded New Wave team and then the New Wave teams, plural. Do you have any idea how much stress and pressure was being put on me?"

Taylor shook her head, "Sounds rough."

Amy nodded, "It was. And for a while I was running ragged. It didn't help with that bitch trying to feed some black and white morality bullshit on me even as she smoozed through meetings with the PRT, State Department and more in order to help the New Wave movement. I couldn't relax, de-stress, it was straight from school to the hospital and I had to keep a smile on my face. And then it happened. The Meltdown."

She meant the public and live-televised breakdown Amy had when she was trying to de-stress between her rounds at the hospital and Brandish, Carol Dallon, had arrived and what started as short argument quickly devolved into a full-blown screaming match between Brandish and Panacea before Brandish stormed off and Panacea was left crying while some nurses comforted her.

No-one knew what the argument was about, but it was caught on tape by a local film crew.

Taylor did remember the scandal about the most powerful healer in the United States being reduced to tears by her mother and how New Wave, Brandish in particular, was being called to account for that. It got ugly.

"What happened with your sister? I mean, if that's okay to talk about..."

Amy smiled sadly, "She got caught in the middle. She loves Carol, but she also supported me and I helped her when she Triggered. In the end, she couldn't take being used as a weapon against me by that woman, and just decided to stop talking to me so she wouldn't have to be forced to act as the bad guy."

A sigh and shrug, "Well, it's the best option so far. Until she fucking gets over herself and apologises, I'm not going back to that house."

Taylor nodded vehemently in agreement, "Good." She looked up and her smile widened, "Oh, there she is. Come on, I'll introduce you to Noriko." She tugged at Amy's hand and pulled the surprised girl along to face a black-haired Japanese girl with a long scar on the left side of her face and a intricately decorated patch covering the eye as Taylor smiled, "Noriko, have you met Amy Dallon?"

"Nope," The Japanese girl, Noriko, replied easily as she held out her hand to shake, "But I've heard of her. So Taylor dragged you along did she?"

Amy coughed as she took the offered hand, ignoring the information streaming into her head like the fact she was shaking hands with a parahuman just like Taylor next to her, "Well, it was more like we were heading in the same direction."

Noriko giggled, "Well, it's good to see Taylor making friends, I was afraid she'd latch onto me like some kinda comic-book Yandere or something."

She glanced between the two of them and whispered loudly, "To tell you the truth, she already had the Tsundere down pat."

"I am not Tsundere!" Taylor protested, mentally suppressing her powers from affecting the insects in the vents and walls, "I just get embarrassed easily." She coughed, "Anyway, I was think Amy could hang out with us. You know, since no-one else seems to want to talk to her."

Amy blushed as she glanced to the side and her eyes met a few of the other students. After a few seconds they simply went on with their business, especially the ones she had been friends with before her breakdown.

She didn't notice the way Noriko and Taylor shared a meaningful glance before the one-eyed girl smiled brightly, "Sure, why not? Us pariahs have to stick togther. I mean, can you believe that these snobs won't talk to us because we come from the 'Gang school', Taylor carries a stun-baton on her..." She pointed at the collapsed length of metal, rubber and wires on Taylor's belt, "And to top it all off, the rumour that just because I wear an eye-patch it means I'm some kind of violent psycho!"

The three girls shared a knowing sigh as they entered their first class of the day. When the rest of their class arrived as the first bell began to ring, they were already sharing stories while other students only spared them a glance or ignored them. When the teacher arrived and began the lesson,

Amy felt like she maybe would have some new friends.

Thankfully they shared a lot of classes it seemed. Maybe the principal was being nice to her by assigning these two to her class schedule so she could bond with them. They were clearly new transfers since they still occasionally checked their maps, but knew enough that they probably only had been students for a few days.

Still, she was curious, "So how long have you been at Arcadia?"

Taylor tapped her chin, "Not long, maybe about...four days Noriko?"

"Five," The Japanese girl replied, fiddling with what looked like a large PDA, "Had to stay at Winslow while Taylor's mom wrangled the transfer through." She tapped her elbow against Taylor's side, "Advantages to having a university professor for a Mom, eh?"

Taylor rolled her eyes, "Right. Anyway, we've been here for only a short while, hence the maps." She waved her own for emphasis, "This place is a lot bigger than Winslow."

Amy nodded, "Yeah, ever since New Wave in Brockton Bay chose this as the school to get their kids educated the place saw a lot of private investment and publicity which meant government contracts, especially when the Altered District was started up so they could set aside scholarship places for kids from there."

She sighed, "Which means that image became a lot more important, especially as you have Altered kids here and they can't exactly disguise their powers if they're of the obvious kind." Amy indicated with her head to show a rather attractive Chinese girl flirting with her boyfriend.

She looked entirely normal if it wasn't for the mass of metallic tentacles in place of her arms holding onto her books before one of them snaked into her pocket and pulled out her mobile as the boyfriend kissed her and walked off while she checked her messages.

"Hard to believe Japan was the one that shoved so many people here," Noriko remarked, "Ever since Empress Himiko took power the whole xenophobia thing has really died down." She smirked, "Of course, being the world's most powerful Shaker who is literally all-seeing and all-knowing within her nation and can affect anything from weather to natural resources tends to help."

Amy shook her head, "That's still hard to believe. The Sun Empress as a title sounds so fantastic but there she is, speaking with dignitaries with bodies made of golden light." She glanced at Noriko, "But what I can't believe more is that Earth-Zayin's Japan was so demanding in not allowing Altered into our Japan or any other."

Noriko shrugged, "National pride I think. I've seen some of the Diet sessions from Zayin on the 'Net, and they are really xenophobic in content. Like, I could see the Empire spouting some of the stuff they were talking about when it came to Altered."

Taylor nodded, "I just feel bad that these people are being forced onto other Earth's just to relieve the fears of politicians and normal humans. Do you think that could happen here?"

"Nah." Noriko quipped, "Parahumans have been around since the Sixties, we're used to the crazy and the people who can toss buildings with their pinkies. Altered are going to be no different." She fiddled with her PDA some more, "Huh, now that ain't right."

Amy smiled, "Your tech breaking down?"

"Nah, just some conspiracy theory story on the dimensional portals," Noriko replied casually, "Something about Earth-Dalet having access to actual alien technology or some shit like that. I mean, how shit is that? The Aleph portal wasn't made by Dalet, just expanded, and it didn't take alien technology to do that."

Amy blinked, "The portals?" She didn't think Noriko would be interested in the giant rings situated on the ruins of Melbourne, Los Angeles and Okinawa where they had originally appeared after the Black Sun appeared.

"Yeah, the portals," Noriko replied as she tapped at her PDA some more before nodding in satisfaction and looking at Amy, "What I'm more interested in is the travel between here and the other Earths. Zayin's a shithole, especially for a Tinker like me-"

"Noriko." Taylor's voice held a warning note.

"But I've heard Aleph is kick-ass and actually has an extremely low Cape population, so I'd be an instant celebrity. Plus, I hear Dalet is even more ahead of the curve. It's apparently 2015 over there! Can you imagine what sort of kick-ass stuff they would have?"

Noriko continued to chatter, "Not only that, but Dayet apparently doesn't have any Capes at all, just Parahumans. It's freaky!"

Amy smirked, "Sounds like you have travel plans."

"Hell yes!" Noriko nodded eagerly, "But for right now I got all sorts of neat stuff to make. Right, my trusty assistant?"

"You mean Lab Rat, right? And I'm not testing another hair-style treatment again." Taylor replied with a straight face, "Last time you made me grow blue hair. I was nearly recruited by the Ice King!."

Noriko smiled toothily, "One hell of a fight though."

Taylor shrugged, "Okay you got me there, but still!"

Noriko sighed, "Fine." She turned to Amy, "Listen, you're pretty cool, so I guess you can hang out with us if you want to. But you out us, I'm gonna give you the runs that will put you on the world record lists. Oh, here's our stop. Come on Taylor!"

"Right." Taylor turned to Amy, "Sorry about that, she's forceful, but she's a good person. Anyway, see you at lunch?"

"Uh yeah, sure." Amy replied and watched Taylor depart before heading to her own class. As she walked down the hallway, she sneezed

Amy placed her hand in her jacket pocket to grab a handkerchief and blow her nose, when she felt something that definitely had not been there before.

Pulling out a folded slip of paper, Amy read it. Then she read it again, before doing it a third time.

Putting it back in her pocket, Amelia Claire Dallon considered the words on the note that either Taylor or Noriko had slipped into her pocket. And whether she should accept their invitation.

She was so lost in thought, Amy didn't notice the floating blonde watching her secretly from the ceiling with narrowed eyes.

For her part, Victoria Dallon decided to do some secret investigations to make sure her sister wasn't being jerked around by the new girls.


* * *

Chapter 3: Armsmaster's Suspicions

Colin Wallis, Armsmaster, regarded the information displayed on his monitors with a grim crease to his mouth before leaning back in his chair, "It doesn't make sense." He tapped at the keyboard on his chair and the monitors changed their contents to display what looked like DNA strands, "What kind of chemical material is he using?"

His terminal beeped, prompting Armsmaster to tap a button, "Dragon?"

One of the screens shifted to reveal a pretty, dark-haired, female face smiling at him, "Colin, glad I reached you, I have the results of my own analysis of the DNA samples you sent me." Her expression shifted, "It's not good."

Armsmaster shifted, "How bad are we talking here?"

Dragon's expression darkened, "Worse than you predicted. It's human DNA, but whatever tinker-chemical was used to make these changes...it's almost beautiful as much as it's sickening in how little the creator must think of human life. Colin, this is one of the most complex and vile kind of chemical-based Tinker enhancements I've ever seen; every test shows that the effect on human DNA is to induce massive and violent physical mutations along with what could be severe neurological changes. If the witness reports are true-"

"They are, I confirmed them myself." Armsmaster interrupted.

"Then in that case, we could be looking at a potential A-Class threat here. You have your reports up?" At his nod, Dragon brought up on screen her own results, "It was a miracle, but I managed to recreate enough of a genotype that I can put it through national and international genetic databases to find out the person who was more than likely bathed in this substance."

"Bathed?" Armsmaster questioned as he correlated and fine-tuned his own data, "You're suggesting our mysterious Tinker had enough of this to just kidnap someone off the street, douse them in his substance, and then turn them loose on the Empire and ABB as a field test? How could they have gotten enough of these chemicals? There's only one company in Brockton Bay that manufactures them."

Dragon nodded, "The Ida Heavy Industries Conglomerate. The owning family has a home in Brockton Bay, a rather large property according to my files, could this mystery Tinker have access to their delivery systems?"

Armsmaster nodded, "It would make sense. As an insider, perhaps one with supervisory or higher access, this Tinker would have full access to Ida's extensive chemical operations across the world and with the right paperwork could get some of the rarer chemicals shipped in from overseas." He sighed, "But what I want to know is why we haven't found the victim. With the extensive mutations shown from the witness video, there should be no way for what could either be a gender-changed male or a heavily mutated female to hide."

Dragon nodded, "That level of mutation is unheard of, even among the Altered, so there could be a chance they're hiding in the Underground."

Armsmaster grimaced, "Exactly why did the US government allowed Dungeon Master to be responsible for redesigning America's sewer systems?"

"Because it was an excellent usage of her powers. Besides, I certainly didn't hear you complaining about our little roleplay session last month." Dragon's eyes took on a perverted gleam, "In fact, I wouldn't mind having you raid my horde again sometime soon." She giggled when Armsmaster shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "Was it really that uncomfortable for you?"

He shook his head, "Just...unusual. I didn't think you'd install actual organic-simulating components in that particular Dragon suit."

Dragon's eyes were dancing, "Well, a girl should do her best for her man, shouldn't she?" She giggled again as Armsmaster shifted more visibly and decided to get back to business, her expression turning serious, "I've made inquiries with Ida representatives through Guild channels. There have been no unusual shipments from any international facilities to Brockton Bay except what has been required for finishing certain products."

"Which doesn't make sense since this formula requires a concentrated amount of DJC-9009A, a very potent and difficult to manufacture chemical used in the treatment of genetic disorders that is manufactured only in Japan." Armsmaster remarked, "Although here, it's being used as a catalyst for the extreme physical mutations you've simulated."

"You're thinking the same thing as me?" Dragon inquired.

Armsmaster nodded, "Yes. Whoever has access to these chemicals has to be siphoning them from Ida Conglomerate stocks and is able to expertly manipulate stock inventory reports to ensure the thefts are missed. This could be just skill, insider knowledge and possibly a high degree of access into their networks, but I'm thinking we could be looking at a Tinker/Thinker combination."

"This level of skill could be the result of, or in support of, a mid to high-level Thinker ability, yes. Colin, if they're siphoning chemicals, what else could they be siphoning? Ida could be potentially losing millions, billions of dollars in lost revenue thanks to this Parahuman."

Armsmaster nodded, "I'll call Mamoru Ida. He should be able to begin making his own arrangements and hopefully will be willing to allow investigation from the Protectorate and Guild." He smiled, showing teeth, "We'll catch this one."

Dragon nodded, before frowning, "What if they're under-age? With that kind of skill and powers..."

Armsmaster nodded, "Director Morgen would snap them readily. He's been focused on getting Tinkers into the Brockton Bay Wards and Protectorate in order to counter some of the more tech-focused gangs."

"It's the same here. The SERK are still rampaging across northern Canada and we need Tinkers to keep them from breaking through the containment lines." Dragon agreed morosely, before she brightened, "Oh! I almost forgot. Narwhal had her baby."

Armsmaster nodded, "I'll send her a congratulatory note then. Was it a boy?"

"Sorry, you'll have to tell Assault that he lost money. It's a girl, and according to Farsight there's a good chance she'll be even larger than her mother and possibly a Legacy Cape as well."

Armsmaster nodded, "Bigger? How much bigger? Narwhal is seven feet tall and her own Trigger circumstances are still unexplainable."

Dragon shrugged on-screen, "Farsight didn't say, just said that Narwhal's daughter would be bigger and equally if not more powerful with an identical power-set." Her expression hardened, "Needless to say; Narwhal, Queen, and Aftershock didn't take kindly to that prediction."

Armsmaster, "No-one would. Returning to the topic, will you be coming down to aid in searching the Ida facilities here in Brockton Bay?"

Dragon nodded, "I've drawn the short straw for patrolling the Altered District as well. Seems as though I'm going to be the sole Guild representative making sure the actual criminals and terrorists tossed in with political and social exiles don't cause trouble. Still, with the New Wave movement possessing the main security contract, I should have plenty of free time to help you find this Tinker and their victim."

"It could be victims, plural, as we speak. I need you to make your way down here as quickly as possible. In the meantime, I'll have to make arrangements with the BBPD to encourage any of their CI's to keep a lookout for anything strange, like a new drug on the streets, or monster attacks."

"Understood. And Colin? Stay safe."

Armsmaster nodded as Dragon signed off and he rubbed his temples. First the news that the Altered District would start receiving the biggest convoy since the formation of the district, which meant more work for various conventional and parahuman construction companies. Then the revelation that Shadow Stalker had been coerced, manipulated, blackmailed and abused into taking part in bullying two innocent girls. That meant another interminable meeting with the Youth Guard.

To make matters worse, one of the girls was the daughter of Mamoru Ida. Armsmaster considered himself lucky he only had to deal with the family retainer while Ida was on business with his wife in Dubai. Ida's money was vital to keeping Brockton Bay from sliding back into being sliced apart by the gangs.

And they still hadn't found the girl responsible, one Emma Barnes, who had managed to force Sophia Hess into doing various actions. Armsmaster had a feeling the father was protecting his daughter, but so far the phone and computer taps hadn't revealed anything.

Getting up from his chair Armsmaster walked towards another bank of screens as robotic arms worked on another item he had recovered from the battle site apart from copious amounts of blood. Stopping in front of the machine, Armsmaster looked down at the ruined, muscular arm being steadily de-constructed by the arms.

On another part of the machine, more arms were busy dissecting the second most important piece of evidence as a twitching, freakish insect was being divided into its core components.

Armsmaster regarded the insect with more interest with the arm. So far the mutations in the arm could be catalogued when he had the time, but the insect was rapidly starting to enter a state of decomposition. Still, he had enough to be able to cross-reference information from databases world-wide and discover that the insect was not natural.

Combined with the other liquids found...

Armsmaster didn't finish the thought; the spectre of Nilbog still hung heavily over the United States, another creature like him arising would be a disaster.

But if he was able to capture and possibly recruited this mutated victim of a clearly deranged Tinker, then Armsmaster would almost certainly be hailed as a hero.

If he could only identify the victim, he could find his Tinker.

A beep caught his attention and he turned to another screen.

Partial genetic match found: 2 Results

"Good." Armsmaster stepped forwards and with a flick of his fingers on the touch-screen brought up the reports.

Partial Match 1: Annette Rose Hebert.

Partial Match 2: Daniel James Hebert.

Armsmaster frowned. Annette Hebert was a university professor with tenure at the Jonathon McKillop University and was a fairly public figure. Daniel Hebert was listed as killed when the Empire 88 attempted to wrest control of the Docks from the ABB, resulting in the entire area being wiped off the face of the earth.

There was a daughter listed, Taylor Hebert, but her genetic profile provided from local genetic records didn't match completely to the partial reconstructions. In fact, there was only a thirty-seven percent match for the daughter.

As Armsmaster cleaned up the data, he nodded as he read the information on the screen. At a nearly fifty-three percent match compared to his wife's forty-two and the daughter's thirty-seven, Daniel Hebert was the likely victim.

It was also due to another interesting fact according to the police reports from the Empire 88 attack.

The body of Daniel Hebert had never been found after he was allegedly killed during the attack.

If the body had somehow gotten into the Underground, and the Tinker was hiding out there like much of the homeless and vagrant population did, then it could be possible that he had been mutated to serve as some kind of slave.

The female features could be explained by the mutative effects of the mysterious chemical, as well as possibly memory damage causing him to think he was his wife or daughter.

Turning away from the machinery and screens Armsmaster began planning his investigation.

He'd have to interview the family, and from there begin searching for any sign of Hebert in the Underground.

He'd have to keep an eye on the wife and daughter as well, but Armsmaster was confident in his hunch pointing him in the right direction.

With any luck, he could discover how the Ida Conglomerate was involved in all this as well and kill two birds with one stone.

And as far as Armsmaster was concerned, this was a more productive and efficient use of his time than being around to watch another convoy get unloaded.


* * *

Chapter 4: Cherish's Evening

If there was one thing that Cherie Vasil enjoyed as a Ward? It would have to be the opportunities to get paid very fat stacks of cash and take even more as war spoils. Even after getting her powers, Cherie had never been able to really enjoy the lifestyle she wanted without getting Protectorate or one of the hundreds of independent teams down on her head.

She shuddered, remembering how she got roped into the Wards in the first place. Stupid Champions, how was she supposed to know that she was scamming an undercover operation while she was passing through Chicago? Honestly, it's not like she wanted to get involved in super-heroics!

But the pay swayed her, just as she swayed her hips just right to get the attention of that attractive supervisor in Finance. He'd probably want to dump a load down her mouth again, but she'd get another couple of thousand dollars slapped onto her paycheck. And money ain't funny, as the old saying went.

"Cherish." She paused and turned to see Armsmaster approaching her. Wonderful. She hated being around Armsmaster, the man's emotional output was about as stimulating as a vibrator with low batteries, but he had his uses and when he usually wanted her for something...well, Cherish always managed to find a way to profit from the situation.

Money, sex or 'confiscated' drugs, it was all good. Cherie made a point to check up on the search for her brother. Honestly, even if she hadn't joined up with the Protectorate after Chicago, it was just taking way too long to find Jean-Paul as it was now. Maybe she should see about hiring someone to find him?

Meh, knowing Jean-Paul he'll eventually end up in Brockton Bay. The city wasn't Cape Central for nothing; just about every independent, rogue, villain and hero showed up in this place not just from places across the United States but also from overseas thanks to the Altered District. Cherish had tasted the emotions of capes from as far afield as Afghanistan.

Then she'd gone and tasted a lot more afterwards. Amazing what a few drinks and some judicious applications of lust could do to loosen people up.

Oh well, back to work.

Cherish pasted a plastic smile on her face to disguise her distaste for the man, "What do you need Armsie?" She kept the smiled up as Armsmaster twitched minutely but her senses told her she had hit her mark as usual.

"Cherish, I need you to conduct a sweep of the Underground for any unusual emotional signatures. I have an important case and I require some leads narrowed down."

'You also need to keep fucking Dragon, let her turn you back into a human so I can have some fun with you.'

Cherish nodded, "Sure, why the fuck not? Not like I had a date with some hot boys and a night of steamy, wild, unprotected sex planned. Sure, I can spend all night scanning a giant underground city built to replace a sewer system because the Mayor is a fucking idiot and so is the state governor."

Armsmaster harrumphed and Cherish sighed, "Yeah, yeah, I'm going, I'm going." She turned away at the same time Armsmaster did, her pretty face twisted in an ugly grimace that caused people to shy away from her as well as the emotion she was radiating.

Great, her whole night spoiled because Mr. Roboto wants her to do a sweep of the Underground. And she can't just do a half-assed peek into the Underground and then fake a report. Oh no, she had to do a full, in-depth sweep because he really would be going down there to check things out.

Honestly, at least the other Capes here figured out that Cherish was just there to make sure everyone was stable or give them a little kick in the field. Hell, the PRT guys knew she was there to make them feel better. Both mentally and physically.

As she headed down the halls of the combined PRT/Protectorate building, fortress more like it, Cherish decided to check in on her favourite Ward. Dipping through the scanners with a lavicious wink at the guard on duty, Cherie hummed a small tune to herself as she quickly picked up her favourite taste of despair, self-loathing and raw animal hatred.

She stopped in front of the clear door, "Hello Sophia."

Sophia Hess, formerly Shadow Stalker, glared sullenly from her bed, "Oh, it's you. I thought I smelled the scent of skank."

'Ooooh, she's finally getting feisty! I suppose that's progress and progress should be rewarded~'

Cherish pouted as she tapped the keypad and opened the door, radiating calm and subtle amounts of lust and attraction, "Aw, you're trash-talking. That's so cute! In fact, I think that's actual progress for you! Much better than being either a growling mess or a sobbing mess." She plopped herself down on the bed next to Sophia, strengthening the emotions Sophia should be feeling.

Sophia didn't push her away, and she wasn't fighting. Hmm, that was good. Cherish leaned in, letting Sophia get a good view of her modest cleavage as she continued talking, "So, if I'm a skank, what does that make you? I mean, just a few days ago you couldn't go an hour without begging for that bitch you used you up and tossed you away like a used condom."

Sophia remained silent, glancing away at the reminder of how she used to be, and the cause of all that. Cherish softened her expression, "Hey now, she's gone and she can't get at you any more."

Sophia choked out a laugh, "Easy for you to say. Emma...Emma is wrong in so many ways. I don't know what happened...it still feels like a bad dream. Just...waking up and finding out that some bitch has turned you into one simply so she could feed her own delusions about being strong. And that girl...Taylor..."

"Yes, well, after speaking with her mother it was decided that it would be in the best interests of both you and Taylor Hebert that you never have any contact." Cherish explained, "Particularly as her new girlfriend was present and made it clear that she was willing to use her Cape powers to get the point across."

Sophia chuckled bitterly, "Makes sense." She leaned against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks, "This is fucked up. I can't even go back to school, can't go home. Not after all I've done...how I've treated people."

Cherish carefully modified the emotions to bring Sophia back to calm before she went off on another crying jag and became too far gone to affect without really cutting into her psyche.

And she promised Mouse Protector that she would be a 'good' girl. So she settled for a hug, inserting enough attraction and happiness that the empath felt was safe so that Sophia calmed down before saying, "Well, I can't stay long. Duty calls and all that stuff. I want you to cooperate with Doctor Melnik as well, I can't keep doing this unless it's an official session."

Sophia nodded, but before Cherish could leave the room the dark-skinned girl dove forward into a fierce kiss. Cherish blinked, before shrugging and slipping her tongue into Sophia's mouth so she could properly enjoy the kiss.

'Tch, technique is a little sloppy. Probably only got practice on Emma Barnes before. Oh well, that just means I get to have some fun with her.'

After a few more seconds, she sighed and broke the kiss, "Later. I have Console duty tonight, so perhaps I can pay you a visit when I'm off-shift."

As Sophia nodded, Cherie walked out of the cell and locked it again, before walking out of the holding cell area and towards the elevators that would take her up to the actual Protectorate floors of headquarters. Tapping her Ident-Code into the keypad and entering, Cherie was about to press the floor button for the Wards quarters when a voice shouted, "Hold the doors please!"

Cherie placed a hand in front of the door sensors to let a heavily pregnant woman enter the elevator, where she leaned against the glass wall looking out at the mismatched expanse of new, high-tech construction and the older parts of Brockton Bay.

Cherish didn't mind the view as she glanced at the woman before pressing the floor button, "You should really stop running while pregnant, Mouse Protector." She did enjoy the warm, rich emotions flowing off the woman as Mouse Protector smiled.

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I have to act as though I'm made of glass. I'm perfectly fine and safe; this isn't my first pregnancy you know."

"No, it's your seventh." Cherie glanced at the woman, "Honestly, you don't have to take after your namesake in that respect." She smiled as Mouse Protector laughed while the elevator rose, before Cherie sighed, "Armsmaster has another asinine assignment for me. He wants me to sweep the Underground for unusual emotional traces. What the fuck does he think he's going to find down there?"

"A mad Tinker." Mouse Protector replied, her cheerful expression gone, "There was a briefing about it. Apparently, some powerful Tinker with some kind of chemical focus transformed someone into a nine-foot-tall mutant monster and sent it to disrupt a territory grab by the ABB and Empire on the edge of Full Moon territory."

"So it wasn't one of Luna's menagerie or her pet triplets?" Cherish asked as she looked out the elevator, watching aircraft taking off from corporate towers, "Wonderful. So why does Armsmaster think they'll be in the Underground."

Mouse Protector snorted, "That's the beauty of it. You're going to love this; Armsmaster thinks that the monster? The nine-foot-tall mutant that has a set of tits that make mine look cute and small?" She bounced her own K-cups in emphasis and Cherish giggled at the reminder of Mouse Protector publicly keeping the after-effect of facing against the Blaster known as Mister Big.

Mouse Protector leaned forward, "Armsie thinks it's a mutated guy."

Cherish considered that for a moment, before she shuddered, "Urgh. I didn't need that mental image." She glanced back out at the city, "So that's why he wants me to sweep the Underground?"

Mouse Protector nodded, "You'll probably satisfy him if you sweep around the Altered District and near the Ida District."

Cherish nodded, "I think I'll do just that." The elevator pinged, opening to reveal the Wards quarters and Cherish turned to Mouse Protector, "Oh yeah, you know why I keep feeling resentment from Miss Militia?"

Mouse Protector flinched, "Ah...yeah. Turns out she really, really doesn't like having a former arms-dealer in the Protectorate. Who knew?"

"Really?" Cherish raised an eyebrow, "Winter is a former arms-dealer and mercenary. Miss Militia probably killed her way out through an army of those kinds of people before coming to the States. In any case, I'm hoping she'll get over it soon. It's distracting, especially as Winter is New York's problem, not Brockton Bay's."

Mouse Protector nodded, "I'll have a talk with her. In the meantime, try not to work too hard with Armsie's dumb request."

Cherish snorted as she started walking off without another word as the elevator doors closed and Cherish sighed, "Might as well get to work..." She blinked before glancing at another room, "But not before I check in on someone."

Humming to herself, Cherie rapped on a nearby door and listened as someone cursed, stumbled and crashed through things as Cherish studied the extensive painting on the door consisting of guns, geometric and fractal shapes, bullets and more guns. Finally it popped open to reveal a head of green-streaked blonde hair that looked up at her with bleary grey eyes.

"Oh, Cherie, did you need something?" Marie LaFayette, known in the Wards as Arsenal, blinked as she shifted the night shirt holding in her own enlarged chest. Cherish honestly wondered if Mister Big aimed for the chest just for laughs or if there was an actual tactical reason?

It wasn't like there was any reports of back problems or anything similar from the thirty women he had hit in his brief spree. Hell, Cherish was staring at Marie's own basketball-sized rack and the girl clearly had no problems except occasionally being unable to see her feet.

"Yeah, I was wondering if that gun you were making me is ready yet?" Cherish smiled as the Shaker/Tinker/Brute across from her nodded.

"Sure, let me just grab it for you." She vanished back into a room packed to the ceiling with guns, ammunition and other firearms-related equipment. Cherish imagined she saw what looked like a rifle that had a minigun for a barrel assembly as she peered through the door, not daring to enter.

Arsenal...Marie may be a sweet girl outside and in costume, but she was more territorial than a pack of wolves. Her fellow wards and not even the Protectorate were exempt from the onslaught of violently screamed Cajun French along with being menaced by a shotgun the size of a fucking telephone pole.

Cherish tried to identify as much as she could see before Marie reappeared with a large pistol in her hands, "Here you go. I'll get a cleaning and repair kit to you soon. Just drop by and I'll give you ammo before you head out into the field."

"Thanks Marie. I'll see you later." Turning away and walking to her room, Cherish finally decided to search the Underground.

Her mind swept across the miles-deep subterranean city that even went underwater thanks to Brockton Bay's aquifer, searching through hobo villages, wandering pockets of rogue Freakshow beasts, a commune of Lilith cultists busy birthing the next generation of 'Succubi' for their idiot plans, and so far nothing, nada, zip.

Frowning slightly as she entered her room, Cherish kept searching, finding nothing but rats, bugs, greasels, karkians, rucks, and even a couple of Shredder swarms.

'Fucking assholes. Never trust Tinkers to make new wildlife.'

Cherish's thoughts were interrupted as she picked up something. She recognised the emotional 'taste' as belonging to Amy Dallon, the healer Panacea, but what was she doing outside her normal volunteer hours with two unknowns?

And why was the overpowering sensation of Glory Girl following them?

Cherish straightened and sat up, her lips curving into a smile.

"Well, this will be interesting."


* * *

Chapter 5: Glory Girl's Spying

Victoria Dallon had a feeling the new girls were trouble the moment she saw them. And now? Following them in casual, dark clothing as they headed towards an abandoned subway entrance with her sister in tow, Victoria had no doubt that something was up as she dipped lower and hid behind a derelict vehicle.

What really got her suspicious was the identity of the new girls. Noriko Ida, heiress of the prestigious Ida Conglomerate who was worth millions of dollars by herself. And the other...Taylor Hebert, the daughter of Professor Annette Hebert. Victoria's research and New Wave credentials turned up reports of the woman's past.

Victoria had met the woman and she couldn't believe that the calm, smiling English Professor was formerly one of Lustrum's most skilled torture technicians. Practically made real the term Lustrum'd in Brockton Bay. Victoria still didn't know how the woman managed to get out of a life-sentence, the reports didn't say anything about that.

Victoria grimaced, "So a corporate princess and a former Lustrum officer's daughter lead my sister into the Underground. I should get backup, maybe..." She glanced down at her phone, already set by instinct to her mother's number on the speed-dial. Looking down at it, she grimaced. If she called her mom, it would just get nasty again.

Victoria still didn't know what had gone wrong; all she knew was that one day she was in the middle of a cold war between Amy and Mom and neither side would explain what was going on. All Victoria knew was that she was always getting pushed and pulled. So she took the best option out of a bunch of bad ones, and just stopped talking with Amy and only interacting with Mom when it didn't involve Amy.

It hurt, but Victoria hoped that Amy would understand and go make new friends.

She just didn't think Amy would go for such a pair of sketchy characters to be new friends. Amy would never go criminal, but Victoria knew that there was a difference between being a criminal and just hanging with the wrong crowd.

The line was pretty thin for that as well. Putting away her phone, Victoria quickly flitted into the subway entrance and followed the signs of three teenage girls moving through the dust and dirt into the disused train tunnels. She didn't need to try very hard to follow the trio; the sound of their conversation and laughter echoed easily down the tunnels so Victoria was able to find the entrance to the Underground that they were using.

As Victoria entered the Underground she recognised the style of the architecture in the sprawling subterranean cityscape, "Okay, so I'm in Waterfall. Must have a lab or base nearby in the inverted buildings."

She floated off the platform and began looking for any signs of the trio when Victoria spotted a set of shapes heading along a walkway and smiled,

"There you are." She picked up speed, weaving through the hanging walkways and hiding behind columns and towers to avoid being spotted as the girls in the distance approached one of the inverted buildings.

Victoria spared a glance for the rest of the Underground. It was one of the big things that a Shaker calling himself Dungeon Master had done; he had gone into local government offices and offered to create underground cities that could withstand any natural disaster or an attack by those Apex bastards.

Victoria passed an inverted statue of the man himself; dressed in stereotypical fantasy robes, Dungeon Master was a normal human apart from him powers but he had, and still was, building underground cities across the world. The guy had massive ego though, always touting his underground cities as invulnerable to harm.

Victoria stopped behind a waterfall column, watching as the trio of girls with her sister in the centre entered one of the inverted buildings. Carefully peeking out of her hiding spot, Victoria spotted a good position on another nearby building that would get her close enough to hopefully sneak in and listen to what was going on inside.

Zipping across the intervening space, Victoria found an open window and carefully clambered through before floating along the floor to avoid making any noise. In the silence of the building it was a lot easier to hear her sister and her new 'friends' as they chatted between themselves about typically teen stuff: boys, clothes, plans for the summer, all the usual things.

Thankfully, they were so engrossed in their conversation that Victoria was able to find the place they had stopped, an inverted atrium, with a ready-made hiding spot in the ceiling as she looked down at what was in the atrium.

Machinery, computers, racks of strange equipment, canisters and tanks of marked chemicals along with various scientific equipment. Sitting in a corner under some drop cloths were some squat shapes but Victoria made out the lengths of cannon barrels and what looked like missile launchers.

'Too small for a crew, unless they use one-person cockpits like some of Squealer's stuff for her gang. Definitely a Tinker with a Trump rating, the equipment is too broad in scope to be anything else.'

Rolling her shoulders, Victoria positioned herself in case she needed to intervene as the girls entered and she heard the conversation being held.

"And here it is! Our little home base." The Ida girl presented the atrium with a flourish as Victoria watched Hebert snort.

"I'm still annoyed that you used your basement instead of this place you know."

Ida shrugged, "It wasn't going to be a permanent thing. The equipment shipment I was expecting was late, so I had to improvise."

"You tested it with garden sprayers."

Victoria watched as Amy rolled her eyes as Ida laughed before replying, "At least they were put to use. My parents don't do the whole gardening thing anyway."

Amy studied the atrium, "So why am I here? I mean, I get that you two are starting a team, but I've already got New Wave and the hospital..."

Ida held up a hand as Victoria focused her attention on getting every detail, "That's true. Frankly, if you joined us of your own free will that would be great, but you're here for a job offer. I'd like to pay you to be an on-call medic. Mostly things like patching up serious injuries or re-attaching an arm. You'll be paid sixty-grand per job plus twenty-eight grand a week as a retainer."

Victoria's jaw dropped. That was more than the Wards made in a month!

Apparently, Amy thought the same way, "W-w-what! I can't accept that! It's not right!"

"What isn't right is you not getting compensated for what could be several minutes to several hours of not volunteering at the hospital." Ida replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "Do you actually intend on relying on charity when you reach your majority and graduate? Can you seriously tell me that you have no plans for your future beyond being stuck in a hospital when you could be contributing to medical science advances?"

"B-but I'm a hero! It's what I do!"

"You're also stressed, burning out, and constantly in the public eye. Frankly, I'm surprised the hospital is still letting you volunteer, it's not like they're hard up for healers or advanced medical systems." Ida shrugged as she walked over to one of the benches, "This is a good deal, you know that, you're not being asked to join and you're getting paid to basically keep doing what you've been doing, with extra for helping us out. Win-Win in my opinion."

"But what if people ask questions?" Amy asked, looking around the obvious hideout, "I can't just say I'm helping another team, I'm in enough hot water with my mother already!"

Ida shrugged, "So tell them you're interning for the Ida Conglomerate. It's basically true anyway. Regardless, we just wanted to show you our hangout and I've made my job offer, so..."

Ida pointed at a massive entertainment set-up in the corner, "How about we unwind with some games?"

Victoria stifled a groan as she settled down. Pulling out her phone and putting it onto silent vibrate, she watched the group start playing games. Her sister was having fun, but she'd be happier when she was out of here so she could have a talk with her. Apart from that, Victoria was happy for Amy.

Why did it feel like she had forgotten something though?

Shrugging, Victoria settled down and started checking her messages as the sound of three girls playing games filled the air. There was a message or two from Mom, but Victoria simply settled the messages with saying that Amy had gone to be with some friends and that she didn't know where she was.

Victoria also got a message from Dean, asking if she was on her way to their date. That stupid make-up date that he organised. Why the hell couldn't Dean get it through his head that Victoria didn't care about him any more?

It was getting to become a pattern as well; she'd break up with Dean because he didn't get social cues even with emotion reading, Dean would sulk, then Dean would get a pep-talk from one of the Wards and he'd try to get back into her good graces, she'd go on a pity date with him, and then they'd be back together and the whole mess would restart.

It would be so tempting to just leave him for good, strike out and make her own way, and why not do the same with New Wave? Hero-ing wasn't about brands after all and so far New Wave was turning into a brand name that was being slapped on merchandise and un-masked capes.

And maybe...if she left, then Amy would follow? It'd be good for things to go back to the way they used to between the two of them. After a while, time flowed together and Victoria had a few cat-naps, waking up to check on Amy and her new friends.

So far they just played games until Victoria heard Amy's watch beep loudly, "Oh! Um, sorry guys, I gotta go."

"Meh, no big deal. Listen, that job offer's always open for you, and you're free to hang out with us whenever you want." Ida waved a hand lazily, "Also, kind of convenient that you got a call just as you were losing."

"Hah, you wish. I'll see you guys later."

Amy jogged out of the building and Victoria was about to slink out when Ida turned to Hebert, "She's probably not going to join up. Too loyal to her family, her sister in particular."

Hebert shrugged as Victoria's eyes narrowed, "Your experience tell you that, or your Thinker power?"

Ida laughed, "Hey, just because I literally think like a super-computer now doesn't mean I can't tell these things. And yeah, I've been in that kind of place before...well, before I met you."

Hebert hugged the Ida heiress before she started to strip in front of Victoria's widening eyes, "Well, since she's gone we might as well get to work. There's a huge swarm of Shredder Beetles that I want to get under my control, and I'm probably going to need the range boost."

"No probably about it. Damn things are skittish when they're not hunting." Ida responded as Hebert finished stripping out of her clothing; while one girl padded over to an area marked with warning tape, the other headed to one of the benched and grabbed an injector gun along with a large feed-bottle, "I've tweaked the formula in my spare time. Direct vascular injection this time, more potent and faster-acting. You should transform within seconds and manifest all secondary mutations a few seconds after the main transformation."

Hebert nodded, taking off her glasses to hand them over, "So long as you don't spray me again." As Ida clicked the feed-bottle into the injector gun, Hebert looked curious, "Hey, Nori, what do you think would happen if this was injected into a Brute? Or an Apex-package?"

Ida paused, "That's a good question actually. Problem is, my simulations can't give me anything accurate. If I had a Brute or Apex-package volunteer to take the serum and transform I could give you an answer but unlike with you I can only give out my best possible guess as to the effects."

She pressed a button and Victoria watched the injector gun fill it's injection reservoir to the brim before a bead of dark, rust-coloured liquid formed on the injector tip, "Okay, ready?"

Hebert sighed, "As I'll ever be. Is Amy going to okay leaving on her own?"

Ida nodded, "I pointed out the fast exit when we were coming in, she'll be fine." She glanced back at the door, "I have some drones following her just in case. But that's all the more reason to clear out our territory of hostile Tinkerlife and anyone else." Walking over to Hebert, Victoria watched as Ida giggled, "Why not strike a pose before I inject you?"

Hebert sighed before putting a rather sloppy double-bicep pose, "I feel stupid." Ida giggled before placing the injector gun to Hebert's arm, "Ah! Shit that's freezing, did you put it in the freezer?"

Ida shrugged, and pulled the trigger.

Victoria jumped at the sudden gasp of pleasure as Ida stepped backwards and started watching as Hebert rubbed her arm, "Oh, I'm definitely feeling it now. Uuuurggh, oh yeah..." Victoria was in a perfect position to grab the small monocular she kept for when she wanted to boy-watch under the pretence of looking for crime and she quickly focused on Hebert's arm.

"Keep the pose Taylor!" Ida yelled and Victoria watched as Taylor raised her arms and...

"Holy shit..." Victoria whispered as she watched veins begin to visibly pulse as muscles began swell under the girl's skin, "What the hell is-"

The muscles suddenly bulged violently outwards, staggering Hebert as she moaned in a mixture of agony and pleasure, "Ooh shit, any chance you could do something about the pain next time?"

Ida shrugged, "Sorry, no can do. It's for your safety and sanity."

Hebert didn't reply as she screamed, doubling over as muscles began to bulge on her shoulder as the serum flowed through her bloodstream.

And high above, watching the transformation as skin split apart to reveal pulsing muscle, bones cracked and lengthened, and to Victoria's blush the girl's breasts started to expand.

'That Ida girl, Noriko, said she didn't know what would happen if it was injected into a Brute. Hebert is probably not a Brute, and from her comment is likely a Master. If that...stuff, can give a person a Brute rating while-'

She watched as skin split open and an extra pair of arms flailed and flexed as blood pumped into rapidly expanding muscle, a tail quickly wiggling loose to whip and slash at the air as Hebert's face stretched and took on a vaguely reptilian cast.

'Woah. If I wasn't watching, I wouldn't have recognised her. If Amy knew...'

If Amy knew, would she still want to take part in this? Or would she jump at the chance to do something without being seen as Panacea?

And if Amy got involved...if Amy got involved, would there be space for another?

Victoria watched as large bulges on Hebert's back swelled further until the skin split open to reveal large, fleshy membranes that pulsed gently before bumps began to move along the surface and with only a few twitches to show Hebert's reaction, large insects began to crawl out, shaking clear slime off their wings before taking to the air.

It was the most bizarre, grossest thing she had ever seen as Hebert stood up from where she had fallen on her hands and knees during the transformation and roared, her expression one of pleasure as Ida stepped forward with a pair of devices.

"God damn, I hate to admit it, but that's a fucking rush." Hebert gushed in a rough, growling purr as she flexed her four arms and watched muscle break through skin.

Victoria on the other hand, was already slinking out with a blush on her cheeks and feeling damp.

'I need to get out of here before I get caught anyway.'

As she flew off to head home, she couldn't get the look of pleasure and contented peace out of her mind.


* * *

Chapter 6: Dragon's Gateway Battle

"Washington Gateway Forward Air Control to inbound transport. Please state your name, ID-code and intent."

"Washington FAC, this is Dragon, Ident-Code: Sierra-Bravo-Dog-Niner-Two-Five, Guild representative. I am inbound with several of my suits to provide security for the prisoner transfer from Earth-Zayin."

"Understood. Transmit authorisation and flight plans."

"Transmitting now." As the upload began, Dragon's digital avatar leaned back in her virtual seat and smiled gently while her suits began shifting in their launch cradles in preparation for the air-drop in front of the portal.

Intimidation was a necessary component to the transfers from Earth-Zayin since rumours and stories about the Brockton Bay Altered District and Neo-Mombasa had reached Earth-Zayin's population of superhumans easily; stories and rumours of a new and easy life made criminals and terrorists confident, aggressive.

"Dragon, this is Washington FAC. Authorisation is clean. Drop your suits when ready."

Dragon's avatar smiled as her suits growled out a pleased electronic noise, "Initiating drop now. I can see the first prisoners coming through." With a thought the launch cradles shifted as doors opened along the sides of the large dropship she was piloting. Already her directional microphones were picking up the sounds of Altered, mostly criminals, starting to flaunt their abilities and powers despite standing on front of an array of Tinker and Hypertech weaponry.

Dragon focused on one individual; a large, muscular Asian teen with a close-cropped haircut was getting in the face of the State Department official responsible for the transfer, "...don't have the fucking balls to take me on! I'm a member of the Hundred Red Demons, and we're going to rule whatever little shit-hole you send us, because you can't match this!"

He raised his arm, the limb transforming into a large bladed claw, and Dragon tittered. Hookwolf's transformation was a more intimidating sight but it was time for her to step in. With a mental push the launch cradles fired; all eyes looked up at her dropship as six of her iconic warsuits dropped out of the sky.

First to land was her humanoid Roland suit: an armoured draconic knight designed for general-purpose duties, famous for when she used it to kill Saint and his crew after the Dalet Para-AI known as Eris liberated her.

Flaring its wing-jets and crossing its arms as the suit gently landed behind the State Department official, eight-feet of hyperalloys and super-conductive electro-active nano-polymer muscles stared down at the teenager and his bladed claw-arm. He sneered, clearly unimpressed.

His expression changed when the other five landed.

Second to land with a roaring of jets was Grendel, her riot-suppression suit. Studded with tear-gas launchers, rubber bullet guns and containment foam sprayers, the thick squat shape of Grendel balefully glared at the teen before bellowing in challenge.

Then came the serpentine Hydra, landing with the assistance of jump-jets in it's legs as it's six heads menaced the teen with the multi-purpose cannons in its many maws.

Landing next were her twin battlesuits, the Geminis, built in the classical european dragon style. Unlike the first three these were pure anti-Brute suits, designed with heavy armour and powerful short-range weapons designed to punch through invulnerable skin and cause lasting damage to regenerators.

But what took away the breaths of the civilians and criminals beings forced through the portal was the landing of Dragon's sixth armour: Balaur.

The massive suit, one that required it's own specialised launch cradle and built specifically to face down Apex-package parahumans, roared in challenge as it rose to it's full eighteen-foot height and displayed it's massive armoured form in a clear intimidation measure as Dragon activated infrasonic systems designed to instigate fear and intimidation.

The State Department official nodded to Dragon's Roland suit, "Thank you for arriving so promptly Dragon." He turned to the teenage, "And as you can see Mister Mori, we here in the United States and Earth-Bet don't give a damn for your former life. You are our world, and you will live by our rules. And if you don't?"

Dragon directed the Roland to lash out with a punch that knocked the teen off his feet and the rep nodded, "Thank you for making my point Dragon. This goes for the rest of you!" He shouted at the growing crowd, "Don't think that just because Parahumans are less numerous than Altered that you can just flout our rules and laws. Our costumed heroes are more than capable of enacting lethal force and many have the capability to bring any of you down if you act up."

He pointed at a waiting convoy of massive armoured transport trucks, along with several huge aircraft, "You will be divided equally amongst the transports heading for Neo-Mombasa and Brockton Bay. You will obey the orders of the transfer staff and will you not resist. Lethal force is now in effect until you are all at your intended destinations. Now please approach the processing gates."

In the silence it was a family that approached the processing gates first, Dragon's sensors ascertaining that only the children were Altered as the parents were human. She sent a priority request to keep them together before turning her sensor equipment on the dropship outwards to keep an eye out for any threats.

It wasn't without precedent. Apex would often grab some Altered who matched their preferred profile and many criminal groups knew the value of the Altered as well. Until every prisoner was on board the aircraft heading to Africa or on the trucks heading to Brockton Bay, there was still the danger of an attack.

A steady trickle of people, mostly civilians, began to head towards the gates after the family was cleared and placed on one of the Brockton Bay trucks. Soon, the actual criminals and terrorists realised that there was no point in standing around and began heading towards the gates as well.

Dragon's suits began spreading out to stop anyone from trying to run for it, but the AI's attention was also being taken up by the necessary busywork of running the Guild while Narwhal was on maternity leave, along with keeping an eye on several former Birdcage prisoners that had been granted parole.

One of particular had her attention. The woman known as the Black Sword had remained in Brockton Bay for some time now, and there was a good chance she was putting down roots. Her UAV passed over the Brockton Bay Altered District and saw that the additional construction was well and truly under way now.

Thank goodness for hypertech, Tinkers and an active local economy based on what the world called 'Cape Tourism' where people came to the city to see and perhaps be involved in a violent but often carefully planned and staged show by both heroes and villains.

Just about every major criminal group saw the profit in this. Tourists were more likely to pay to simply have a picture taken with the likes of drug dealers, rapists and murderers simply because they were famous or engaged in the charade that consumed Brockton Bay. Dragon knew that in Brockton Bay alone the ABB and E88 practically sold their own merchandise alongside Protectorate, Altered, and even the local Apex cell got in on the action.

At the reminder of the chaotically-divided parahuman supremacist/mercenary group, Dragon tuned Balaur's sensors outwards and began tapping the local Air Force radar networks, an orbiting satellite, and a nearby pair of AWAC-H's for additional quality.

Nothing. There was no unusual air or ground traffic around the Washington Gateway, not even a trace of the rare few capes in Apex or other groups interested in Altered who could enter and exit space at will. Usually...usually there was at least twenty to seventy spies from various cape groups across the country and from overseas.

So why was there—

The Roland's head snapped up as Dragon shouted, "Incoming!" Soldiers grabbed their weapons as the other suits scrambled out of the way as a black orb slammed down into the concrete, sending a plume of crushed debris and dust into the air as Dragon accessed the Emergency Response Channel, "This is Dragon to all US military forces in the area! Code Black! I repeat, Code Black! We have a Crawler on the gateway!"

"Roger that, we're scrambling all available air and ground assets now. Continue the prisoner transfer. That is your top priority."

"Roger that, will continue the transfer!" Dragon turned to several soldiers, "Get them through the gates! Now!"

They quickly saluted and ran off to begin forcing the criminals to cooperate while the civilians were already running towards the gates, which were now being thrown open as Dragon's suits began opening fire alongside the defensive guns at the black sphere.

A black sphere that was rapidly unfurling into a giant, eighty-foot-long robot centipede that ignored the storm of bullets, railgun slugs, lasers, plasma and ion beams to rear up on it's rear legs to reveal huge blades along with a mass of squirming tentacles as the machine glared at the crowds of Altered who were rushing towards the gates, before unleashing an electronic roar.

Seconds later, Balaur rammed into it, and the battle was on as Roland raised an arm to reveal a large energy cannon while the free hand yanked a sword from a scabbard.

Dragon smiled at the memory of taking Saint's own sword and cutting him open with it. For all that she was grateful for the work of her father, Andrew Richter, he had been a terrible judge of character when he hired Pellick.

But that was the past, as she directed Hydra to unload a stream of powerful energy fields to destabilise the armour as the Gemini suits unloaded their weaponry into the robotic centipede as the Balaur wrestled with it. A cannon shot rang out and Balaur jerked to the side as a hyper-allow sabot smashed into the centipede's head.

Dragon smiled fiercely in her virtual space as the gunship shifted into position and opened ports to reveal banks of guns that swivelled to lock onto the centipede before Dragon shouted through Roland, "Get clear!"

Soldiers broke away as Balaur released the centipede just in time for a barrage of cannon-fire to hammer the machine but it managed to lash out with one of it's blades, cutting into the leg of Grendel, and wrap itself around the armour before squeezing. Grendel roared but the enemy machine was too powerful and in a spray of coolant and other liquids the suit was crushed beyond recognition.

It proved a costly mistake as with a scream of engines a flight of F-29's came in low and fired their missiles, knocking the machine backwards just in time for the tanks to roll in.

Dragon charged the Balaur in again, the giant draconic warsuit opening it's mouth to issue a bellowing roar, and the centipede lashed out to slash across the left side of the suit's head before Balaur slammed it's massive bulk into the centipede and rolled across the concrete.

Soldiers and vehicles scattered as the pair rolled and wrestled and Dragon pointed with the Roland, "Open Fire! Pour everything you have into it!"

Immediately the barrage of fire resumed and Dragon spared a glance towards the Altered as the Balaur and centipede both absorbed a hail of weapons fire.

The Altered were safe, but Dragon saw that they were transfixed by the sight of one of her warsuits battling with the machine-monster sent from Jupiter.

A radar return had Dragon's attention and she smiled in relief as a flight of fighter-bombers and a single modified B2 arrived as her radio picked up a signal, "Dragon this is Bugzapper. Storm Cannon is charged and ready. Clear the area."

"Understood. The Balaur is under remote control, so fire at will!" Dragon responded, making sure to sound appropriately stressed as if she was really in the suit herself, "Dragon to all defenders, fall back! I repeat, fall back!"

She fired off more streams of exotic matter from Hydra as it limped backwards -how had she missed the damage to the front-right leg?— before jetting backwards with Roland just as the B2 flew overhead and a blast of energy that could only tangentially be called lightning smashed into Balaur and the centipede.

Dragon winced as she felt the destruction of the Balaur as the Storm Cannon reduced her suit and the centipede into a cloud of glowing gas. But that was not what Dragon was looking for as she scanned every possible wavelength and aspect of physics until—

There!

Her mind immediately latched onto an overhead missile defence satellite and aimed it's particle cannon at a point in space before firing.

Guided by her calculations, the beam lashed out and smashed into a smaller machine, and as she released the satellite and repositioned it Dragon saw the icon on the side of the machine.

In the silence of the aftermath Dragon landed the Roland on the other side of the processing gates; she still had a job to do and she had to make sure that families remained together and that the various criminals wouldn't cause trouble when someone's voice shakily asked, "W-what the fuck was that thing?"

She recognised the speaker, the unruly teen from before.

Her suit spoke quietly, "That was a Crawler-class Acquisition Device. A interplanetary kidnapping machine. If it had been successful, it would have grabbed the most valuable Altered here, and killed the rest. And we don't know what criteria it uses to select those it considers valuable."

She turned back to the crater left by the Storm Cannon, "It was sent from a space colony established on Jupiter, which we lost contact with after the Black Sun appeared. We got lucky today. No-one was taken. Not like Red Friday."

Turning back to the crowd, Dragon looked over them all, "All right. We need to reorganise things so that families remain together and civilians are separate from actual criminal exiles. In the interests of your continued safety, please cooperate."

It was a relief that they actually did so, cowed by the sight of two massive machines fighting for their lives, and that left Dragon time to brood.

Balaur had performed beyond it's specifications and Dragon made a note to retain the current design as her new standard before ordering another suit built back at her lair. Speaking of lairs, her 'roleplay' suit was now ready for deployment to Brockton Bay.

She smiled at the thought of another fun day of helping Colin with whatever crazy idea got into his head, and then leading that into something more...productive. She began reading through the reports from Neo-Mombasa and Brockton Bay as families were reunited and the loading proceeded in an orderly fashion.

Then a message ping from her lair caused her pause, and then stop to read the report more deeply, and then re-read it again.

Inside the dropship, Dragon's virtual avatar smiled a wide, predatory grin as she lounged back on a bed of jewels and coin in classic, mythical draconic style as the last occupants boarded the transports.

"Soon, very soon."


* * *

Chapter 7: New Contact, New Concern

Arcadia didn't have the same charm as Kenikawa Academy, but Noriko Ida was much happier to be in the American campus than on the Japanese one. Here, she didn't have to worry about the fact that her life would be chosen and decided for her based on her college prospects; they were still present but it wasn't so crippling since as the Ida heiress who was actively aiding in her family and their accumulation of wealth her future was secure.

The lack of a school uniform was also something she was glad for. Now she could wear comfortable, cute clothing instead of that boring long skirt and blazer. And those shoes...ugh.

Still, it did feel a bit like home. The absolute glut of Chinese, Korean and Japanese students reminded her of Kenikawa, just that most of those other students had visible mutations that marked them as Altered. Granted, Immaculata and Clarendon also received their fair share but to Noriko it felt as though the largest numbers were in Arcadia.

Still, Noriko found herself bored with her new school, mostly with some of the classes. Already highly intelligent before her Trigger, the major IQ boost that came with the kitchen-sink prize bag of powers meant that she breezed through a lot of classes.

It was still embarassing to keep forgetting to show her work in Advanced Maths and Algebra though. Still, Mrs. Clark was very understanding about that. In the meantime, Noriko had suddenly become very popular with the 'Late Homework' crowd and she had to admit that there was enough eye-candy to keep her amused until she could find Taylor.

Speaking of Taylor...Noriko's eyes swept the crowds of students for any sign of her tall, lithe friend. And she was definitely lithe; even without the residual physical boost from her newly-named TITAN serum, Taylor was built like a professional runner. All sleek lines that helped emphasise her natural curves.

Noriko wondered if Taylor was willing to experiment a little when they got home later. Her parents were on another business trip, although this one was merely to Dallas, and Taylor's mother was going on a road trip with her girlfriend.

Noriko wondered if Taylor would be calling that woman 'mommy' when Annette-san got back.

Finally, she caught a glimpse of Taylor's curly shock of black hair and waved to the girl, who quickly spotted her and waved while jogging over to Noriko. For her part, Noriko didn't miss the appreciative glances sent towards Taylor, more specifically her ass, by several guys and a few girls as well.

"Hey Noriko. What d'you think this..." Taylor fished out her weekly schedule, "World and Parahuman Affairs class is going to be like?"

"So long as it isn't like that pervert Gladly, I don't care." Noriko replied, "Still, I heard that this class has a teacher who won awards for her work, so it should be good." They entered the classroom together and quickly took their seats near the window overlooking one of the campus garden-parks, and as the other students drifted in, Noriko pulled out a textbook from her backpack, "I hear she's a real hardass about accurate work, so this might actually be a challenge."

"Yeah," Taylor snarked, "You might actually get a B or even a C for this class."

<"Laugh it up, funny girl."> Noriko replied in Japanese as Taylor giggled before joining her. Eventually the room was filled with chatting students who had divided into their various groups and cliques, even Noriko and Taylor.

Taylor had been surprised, her time in the clutches of Emma, Sophia and Madison had left her wary of getting involved in the affairs of highschool groupings, but the girls she found herself with were good people, and Noriko hoped that she could make new friends as she sat down with her new friends, "So, this is my first class here. Any tips for the new transfers?"

One of the girls smirked, "Be ready to talk about Winslow, it's the topic of this semester's assignment. Also, try not to get Apex involved in any way, Heather Lockeby is the leader of the local Apex cell and she's really big into the Iconic Manifesto."

Noriko nodded, "She's an Apex-Package?"

A shake of her head, "Nah, just a Shaker/Mover/Blaster, and an Open Cape as well. Of course, not many people want to mess with the girl who triggered near Kaiser, Squealer and Miss Militia."

Another girl piped up, "That was when the FMA wiped out the Merchants right? How'd you get her to tell you that? I asked and she clamped up."

A snort, "You asked her in the locker room and started off by pointing out her scar. Of course she was going to clam up." The girl turned back to Noriko, "Still, if you believe the posts on PHO's ApexWatch page, she might be getting a promotion to being an actual Apex."

Noriko looked thoughtful, "Lockeby, Lockeby...wait, you mean the girl who organised that big town meeting to talk about removing physical government oversight of the Altered District and let them self-govern?"

A nod, "And negotiated the compromise with the Mayor's Office. Hard to believe huh?"

Noriko nodded, "I'll say, but how do you end up an Iconic in an Apex cell anyway if you aren't a Brute or Apex-Package?"

Another shrug, "Hell if I know. I ain't a 'Pex so it goes over my head. Still, I'll take anyone going the Iconic Route than going the other way."

Nods all around, even from Noriko.

Suddenly the door opened and a woman breezed into the room, followed by some straggling students, "Okay ladies and gentlemen, and I use the term loosely, take your seats and gather your notebooks." She looked out at the class, "Now then, we have some new students in my class this semester, just transferred from that pit called Winslow. Miss Ida, Miss Hebert, could you stand up please?"

Noriko stood up and watched Taylor nervously do the same, the taller girl looking very nervous at the attention being directed towards the two of them as the teacher continued, "Right then. My name, you two, is Miss Alicia Rutherford and you're forgiven if you don't know my credentials as I work in a fairly limited but important field. In any case, welcome to my class on Parahuman and World Affairs and I expect you to be up-to-date on the latest news both for parahumans and normal human news."

Taylor nodded while Noriko replied with a bored, "Hai."

"Good, you two can sit down now." Noriko noted with some amusement how relieved Taylor was to sit down and she did a fairly good job at being small after that as Ms. Rutherford continued, "In other news, I'm pleased to welcome back Heather Lockeby from her trip to the Global Parahuman Political Influence seminar and forum in San Diego. Stand up Heather."

A fit-looking, heavily endowed girl with dark-red hair stood up as Ms. Rutherford continued, "You may not know this, but Heather has received significant notice and attention from several notables at the forum for her incredible discourse on how Apex cells following the Iconic Doctrine can have a provable, visible, beneficial influence on human/parahuman relations and by extension how the Iconic Doctrine can be applied to all parahumans, masked or open."

Ms. Rutherford smiled, "Well done Heather, it can't have been an easy thing for you to go up there and speak to that large number of distinguished individuals. Class, please give Heather some well-deserved applause. Regardless of your views on Apex as a movement, this is an amazing accomplishment."

There was polite claps and Noriko noted the girl blushing as she bowed her head and sat down before the teacher continued, "Now then, I'll need someone to get Heather, Taylor and Noriko up to speed on our current work on gang influence on publicly-funded highschools and how Winslow High School could end up becoming the norm in schools when parahuman-led gang influence spreads to educational institutes."

As Noriko was brought up to speed and began taking notes, she noted that she was right.

This class would provide a challenge, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of lessons would be taught.

She learned plenty as the class wore on and by the time the lunch bell rang, Noriko felt like her eyes were swirling like an anime character, and Taylor didn't look any better. Her friends had been right, Ms. Rutherford had called on them to talk about Winslow and she didn't hold back on the questions.

Taylor got the worst of it though. She had been at Winslow longer than Noriko so she had to go into all manner of details. Especially when it came to bullying. It was a close thing, and Noriko was proud at how her friend managed to get through that without breaking down. Maybe the therapist visits were helping?

In any case, as Noriko was waiting, she was surprised to see Heather Lockeby approaching her, "Hi, can we talk?"

Noriko shrugged, "Yeah, I got time. What do you want to talk about?"

Heather smiled, "I was wondering if you and Taylor would like to work with me on the semester project? I mean, if that's okay with you. I know a lot of people don't exactly trust anyone who wears our mark." She shifted to reveal her necklace, and pride of place on the jewellery was the symbol of Apex; a caped humanoid figure with arms upraised in defiance.

Noriko shrugged, "Meh, I got no problems with you. So long as you aren't abusing innocent men or giving them a Lustrum, I don't mind working with you."

She didn't need her Thinker powers to see the way the girl sagged slightly in obvious relief, "Really? That's great! Would you like to come over to my house and work on the project? I've...kinda been doing it solo for now."

Noriko tilted her head, "Everyone scared off by hardline Apex talk?"

Heather shifted nervously, "Actually, I prefer to keep Apex business seperate from my life unless it's necessary, like my trip to San Diego. It's more that they're scared of the other cell members, even though they're really good people."

Noriko nodded, "It's a little understandable though, they probably think you're a pretty face for some bad people. To be fair, Apex doesn't have the best reputation."

Heather grimaced, "Tell me about it. Why the hell did it take until there was an Apex in Washington before the Iconic Doctrine got spread around? Now everyone thinks we're terrorists thanks to Apex New York, anarchists thanks to San Francisco, and of course the founder of the movement is an abusive mother drunk on power."

Noriko noticed Taylor managing to get extricated from her friends, who had practically latched onto her since she started getting tearful about Winslow, "Here comes Taylor. If she agrees, we'll probably come over tonight."

"If I agree to what?" Taylor asked as she approached, "Ugh, I'm glad that's over. I swear, I'll be glad if I never get another sympathetic look or condolence about Winslow ever again."

Noriko grinned, "Well Hee-chan, Heather here wanted to know if we'd be project-buddies with her."

Taylor blinked and turned to Heather, "Wait, you don't have any partners?" At the replying headshake, Taylor goggled, "But you're hot! You can't not have someone working with you!"

Heather shrugged, "My boyfriend doesn't take Rutherford's class so he can't help me, and everyone else isn't exactly willing to risk getting teased for hanging out with 'that Apex chick' as the star quarterback so eloquently put it."

Taylor cocked her head a little, "Is it true about...well, your relationship?"

Heather groaned, "Of course you heard that one. Yes, we're both into Cape-Dom play and no, it wasn't my idea. It was his."

Noriko giggled, "I wonder how he'll take your promotion to Apex if that rumor is true."

Heather shook her head with a slightly amused, slightly sardonic smile, "More than a rumor. Apex Prime came to my hotel room and told me herself. Scared the hell out of my parents to have a sixteen-foot tall flying she-hulk decked out like some kinda sci-fi Roman Centurion telling their daughter that she was going to become an Apex for, and I quote, 'Progressing the political agenda of the Apex movement to greater political prominence' which sounds pretty doesn't it?"

"Sounds more like you were being patronised to me," Taylor remarked, "Like a dog being given a treat."

Heather started laughing, "Oh my god, I know right? I think she was disappointed I didn't bark for a treat too!"

Taylor checked her watch, "Oh man, we better get to lunch!" She looked thoughtful for a moment before turning to Heather, "Want to sit with us?"

Heather smiled, "No thanks. I appreciate the offer but I'm not that much of a social pariah. You'd be better off trying to make friends with the New Wave kids, they're always sitting alone. It's freaky, like an island, and it used to be like that before Panacea had her breakdown."

Taylor smiled, "Okay. I gotta go, so maybe you could tell Noriko where we can go to help you." She turned and ran off without another word.

Noriko and Heather looked at each other, before they laughed again and quickly traded contact information. As Heather walked away, Noriko carefully pulled out her phone and pressed the 'Answer' button to finally take the call, "Yeah?"

"Protectorate is investigating Ida chemical departments and subsidiaries. Suspect Ida involvement due to serum containing large amounts of TX-00987D Catalyst."

"I see, maintain observation and inform me of any further complications. Use discretion in regards to cancelling or moving ahead with shipment."

"Affirmative Ida-dono, observation will be maintained."

Noriko hung up, before dialing another number and waiting until it was picked up, "Whoza 'uck iz di'?"

"Midori Aino, your services are required." Noriko stated coldly.

"...yeah?"

"I want Ida Brockton Bay to be attacked. Chemical robbery. I will provide a decoy for your escape."

On the other end of the line, rapidly getting more sober and awake, the woman known as Bakuda perked up, "Oh yeah? How much are we talking about here, Hime?"

Noriko told her.

Seconds later, Bakuda was walking out of her room dressed for war, "Wake up you buncha chink sluts and gook bitches! Gotta fucking job for you so saddle up, nut up and put your war faces on!"

Her smile was cold, "We're hitting Ida!"

Once More, With Feeling

(Автор: Ziel)

Distantly, he wondered if Cherish ever smiled for real. So far, he'd only seen variations on fake. She emoted certainly, but nothing was ever real. It was like someone switching the heads on a doll. Happy face. Sad face. Angry face.

He had an idea of her background; gleaned from things the other Nines had said, mostly scraps passed on from Jack. Living with a man like Heartbreaker would explain a lot about her. He didn't think she realized that she'd turned out frighteningly similar to her father.

Her parentage also explained her affect.

Cherish lived vicariously. She was an empath. A vicious bitch of an empath, feeding off others' emotions to make up for own her lack there of.

"How are you feeling today, Taylor?" She'd coo, already wearing her plastic grin.

He didn't have to answer. She knew. Felt it with her sixth sense. But making him say it was part of her game. Admission produced more feelings for her to taste. Shame, anger, frustration, at being forced to play.

Sex was the same way. The only part of that that came as a surprise was that she wasn't more into it. God knew that Heartbreaker certainly hadn't shied away from rape.

Sex came part and parcel with being in the Nine. It was another debauchery to take part in. Siberian was the most obvious, but the others had their vices.

Jack had his knifeplay, and Shatterbird would almost always work herself into a frenzy during a fight before disappearing for a couple hours. She'd return, clothes tattered, hair tangled, smelling of stale sex and anger. He neither knew nor wanted to know what she got up to during that time.

Burnscar? Teen girls, ranging toward blonde. She almost always burned them to death afterwards. Not remotely a surprise there. Hatchetface? Rape, all the way down. Preferably female capes, but he'd take normals if he got them. Oddly, he almost always left those alive. Disfigured, but alive.

The others, thankfully, were either unable or unwilling. Crawler and Mannequin's sexualities both fell firmly into Taylor's brain-bleach category. Bonesaw was too young. Anyone who introduced anything sexual into her life would find themselves on the wrong side of Siberian very quickly.

But Cherish? She just wasn't in to it. Sex was another tool for her, another weapon.

"Cum for me, darling." She'd whisper, digging her nails into his back.

She'd straddle him, letting him watch, inch by inch as his cock disappeared into her. Exultation. Shaking her hips, she'd bottom out, barely slick around him, only lukewarm.

Only when he got going did she. His pain was her pleasure. His pleasure, her pleasure. He grew stiff, and she responded, drank deep from his arousal. She'd lean in, working up and down on his length, and whisper in his ear.

"Do you think your family misses you? How do you think they'd take this?"

Shame. Anger. Frustration.

The first time she'd done it to him, he'd seen red, nearly struck her. His fury sent her over the edge and she clamped down on him like a vice, further taunts disappearing in a cascade of moans.

This time?

"Get me pregnant." She hissed.

Fear. Shock. Surprise. Nausea.

She arched back, clawing her nipples, hair in her eyes, red lips parted in a silent scream. It took only a nudge for him to tip her back and go on the offensive. She was shaking, too weak to move when Taylor started thrusting again. He pressed her into the mattress, held her down with his body.

"Christ, I fucking hate you. You know that?" He snarled. "Crazy fucking bitch."

"Oh yes!" Cherish cried. "God, I know."

Every thrust brought a wet noise now, her fluids soaking into the bed under them.

"I hope you do get pregnant so I can watch you fuck up as a parent."

She grunted, wrapped her legs around his waist.

Taylor continued, started working her breasts in his hands. The flensed skin of her chest was ridged with scar tissue, and he doubted she could actually feel much, but he did it anyway, because he enjoyed it.

"You'll be just like your dear ole dad." He twisted her nipples roughly, working for a reaction. None. "Will you fuck your kids, just like he did?"

That did it. Cherish's eyes snapped open, and her mouth twisted into a honest to god frown. The first real frown he'd ever seen her wear.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Taylor!"

He jammed his thumb into her mouth. "Shut yours."

She bit him once, and then started sucking, fellating his finger, tasting the blood where she'd broken the skin. He was getting close now; his peak rising with a familiar tension. She was close as well. As close as he was; riding the same wave of pleasure.

So close. So, very close.

Still thrusting, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her ear. Brushed her hair back tenderly.

"You're beautiful when you're angry."

Amusement. Arousal. Anger. Love.

She came first, the words pushing her over their edge, and he followed. Cherish howled her climax, clawing blindly at the sheets, so tight around him that he could barely move. His orgasm hit him like a freight train; seeing stars, he thrust deep, spurted into her, every stream burning.

For a moment, they were still, locked together in congress.

And then it passed, the world beginning its rotation once more.

He lay beside her, sprawled out bonelessly, their bodies touching at the hip. She was silent for a long time.

Finally, she sat up, glared at him, and punched him squarely in the ribs.

"Asshole. If I wanted those feelings I'd find a real girl, not just a fucking drag queen like you."

And then she was straddling him again, her sex wet with his seed.

"Now again from the top. This time... with feeling."

Just A Little Blatant Revenge Fantasy

(Автор: jcogginsa)

I knew High School would be difficult. I had never attended the other kinds as I grew, and I still had trouble speaking. But this was not really about getting an education. My family were helping me get that just fine. This was about socialization. Making friends. I could do that. I think


* * *

I think I have a friend. She's taller than me, but meek. Her hair is....curly, I think the word is. I found her surrounded but some other girls, who were saying things. Not to her, but at her, I think. I could tell she wanted it to stop, so i stopped it. It was not hard, I just forced them apart and asked the girl if she wanted to be friends. She seemed surprised, but i think she nodded. We went off to eat the school lunch together, but one of the girl's tried to trip me. It just took a little leverage to trip her instead.

My Friend's name is Taylor.


* * *

Taylor and I became friends soon. I think she was lonely. She has no friends besides me, and the other girls in this school attack her often. They are lead by 3 girls. Sophia, a track star. Emma, a Model. And Madison, a lolicon. Emma used to be Taylor's friend, but isn't anymore. She doesn't know why, and neither do I.

I invite Taylor to my home over the winter break from school. She is impressed by the size, and spent most of the night staring at Dick. Jason thought that was humorous when I don't him later, but I don't understand why. Taylor seems to like my family.


* * *

I stalk the halls, searching. I am not good with words, but my body speaks for me, and it says 'Stay out of my Way.'

I find the three in the hall, looking happy with themselves.

"Y-you hurt Taylor." I say. My talking is still not good.

They roll their eyes at me. "So what? You can't prove we did anything. No one here is gonna stand up to the runt against us." The Track runner says.

"Confess." I demand

"Or what?" she taunts.

"I will break you leg."

For a moment, she is wary. I can tell she is a fighter, and i think she recognises that I am as well. But in the end, she thinks she can defeat me.

"Yeah right, i'd like to see you try it. You'd be locked up and-"

I begin with a jab to the throat and a quick punch to the stomach. She's out of breath and off balance. I follow with a weak uppercut to the chin. She is knocked back and starts to tumble. As she does, I strike a pressure point. The muscles of her left leg straighten out, and I stomp down on her knee. There is a sickening crack, and she howls in pain. Her leg is broken, and she is crippled for life, unless she can get a parahuman healer. No more track.

The model and the lolicon stare at me. I rush the model, and deliver two hard punches to her face. The first breaks her nose, and the second knocks out her two front teeth. No more modeling career. I turn to the Lolicon, who backs away, stumbling over promises to confess. I smile, and grab her by the arm. We walk to the principal's office. She will confess, and then i will confess to the assault

Queen Smooze: Slime Girls Need More Love

(Автор: Master of Squirrel-fu)

Schlup. schlup. schlup.

I'm pretty sure that if my current body was still capable of such a thing my blush would be luminescent right now. As it was I wasn't. I supposed I could easily fix that but it would defeat the purpose of completely changing my body to begin with. Probably should have thought that through more, looking back on it, identity concealment probably wasn't worth this much embarrassment. Sure I technically lacked all the important bits but going around effectively in the nude was not my brightest moment. God, what was going through my head to even consider that? Well at least it was humid out, it might even rain soon if I'm lucky.

Schlupschlupschlupschlup

I speed up my ministrations a little in anticipation. It's not something I'd done purposely but I don't bother restraining myself, it's not like it's hurting him. Even if it did I wouldn't care, he's just a hu— a thug after all. I frown down at the man I'm currently and thoroughly violating, I'd almost forgotten about him actually. He'd stopped struggling a few minutes ago and hadn't really moved since, were I not inside him I might have thought I'd accidentally killed him. But made sure that I supplied him with the proper nutrients and necessities so he hadn't either been drained to death nor smothered, so he'd probably just passed out.

Now that would not do.

I gather more of myself around him, and with a bit of effort lift him up to face me. The look of utter bliss on his face was clearly visible through the clear liquid mass that made up my body. His unfocused eyes, completely detached from reality, just stare vacantly ahead as his jaw is kept open by my probing form. That lewd expression was both pleasing and mildly irritating. So pathetic.

With a wet slurping sound I slowly remove myself from inside him, inching my way out of his throat and nostrils, making sure to thicken and vibrate to tickle him on the way out. His moans are choked on the tendrils still inside even as his muscles twitches in the confines of my body. Finally with a pop, I remove myself form him, clearing his airway and inner ears, leaving them no doubt cleaner than they were before. A small portion of 'me' is delegated to breaking down the new nutrients I'd extracted from him, while the larger whole focuses on the comatose gangbanger.

Now that I actually look at him I notice his apparent youth, possibly a year or two younger than me. He looked vaguely Asiatic, along with his choice of clothes I'd pegged him as an ABB member. His hair was a rather odd thing, black though in the right light seemed a rather dusty purple. His frame had some decent musculature on it, much to my delight, but not as much as I'd prefer sadly. Instead his build was slight, almost feminine in proportions, matching his androgynous face. I honestly would have preferred someone... larger, but beggars can't be choosers. Besides he was a cute kid. Very pretty.

Gently cupping his face I turned him to face me, trailing my thumb over his lips. He doesn't resist as I gently insert the digit inside him. I adjusted the properties of the digit, trailing it over his cheeks letting him absorb the chemicals. As light seems to return to his eyes I withdraw, meeting slight resistance as he had unconsciously began to suckle on the digit. The pressure in me head, steadily building until this point, is almost smothering. I feel the flow of liquid increase in speed, the circulation almost making me feel like I was vibrating. A comforting heat fills me. I can feel myself dripping, no pouring in excitement as he begins to focus on me.

"Hello little boy," I leaned into him as he stares wide eyed, making sure to slowly whisper the words to him. My slime strokes him down his bare back and I feel him shiver inside me. I begin to stroke other parts of his body. The nape of his neck, trail his collar bone, I work myself between every joint lightly rubbing against the sensitive skin alternating between warm and cold, rough and soft. He begins to struggle against me until I completely restrain his limbs, but that only stops the movement and his muscles tense with every ministration. "You've done... very naughty things. And that's why... I need to punish you."

His eyes snap back to me and widen. He shouts something I don't quite understand, again trying to struggle to escape. My body loosens around him as he feebly bucks and kicks as he falls to the floor. Before he can flee a pair of hands grasp his ankles and another pair of arms wrap themselves around him from behind. He freezes and looks up to see the head above him and he looks into 'my' eyes, of the 'me' that has trapped him from behind before looking at the 'me's before him. Terrified he pauses, before instinctively shrinking back, trapping himself deeper into the 'me' that restrains his bare upper body. 'I' wrap myself around his legs dripping sticky juices down them while the final 'me' moves forward to rub against his chest. His sweat is particularly delicious I had found, even more so tainted with so much conflicting fear and arousal.

"N-no, stop..." He whimpers.

"You've been a very bad child," I whisper into his ear as I drag him down, covering him in myselves, "Such a dirty child... Now I'll pollute it."

I begin to snake my slime around him squeezing him, rubbing him, suckling his skin. His breath soon turns ragged as he gasps for breath.

'I' frown from 'my' place on his chest and quickly my hand snatch his face and force it to meet mine. There is no resistance when my tongue violates his mouth. His breath tickles as I stretch myself to fill and explore the cavity, making sure to tickle the back of his throat. Just as quickly I pull away to see his desperate face. He doesn't react as the 'me' behind him licks up his drool, focusing on the 'me' before him. He stutters something.

"Hmm?" My fingers trail down the side of his face. "What's wrong?"

"P-please..."

"Please?" I tighten around him and he flinches, "Say what it is... In that pretty voice of yours."

"Please... Stop... It feels... Weird."

"Tell me, does it feel good?"

The boy doesn't answer, again trying to struggle against the no doubt new sensation. It's cute, for a little vagabond he seemed to have retained some delicious innocence. But I want to hear more of his voice, his moans and pleas. With slow deliberateness I place my hand on his chest and slowly trail down. I trace a line down his chest and the rim of his navel, before descending to my prize. He gasps and tenses as my hand firmly grasps the one piece of his anatomy I had been deliberately avoiding. He lets out a little 'Ahn' sound. My hand completely envelopes his member and he flinches. The 'me' behind him begins to play with his torso, teasing his nipples and collar, the 'me' bellow slurps on the skin between his legs trailing up to meet 'my' hand. 'I' begin to work him over, above I lick his jaw while my hand teases under his skin, a thick fluid that swirls around him while sucking him off. It's barely seconds before he throws himself back in release, letting it out into my hand.

He slumps, his eyes blurry again giving little gasps as his body trembles. Despite this however his penis is still hard, showing no signs of fatigue. I admit that was from a bit of cheating on my part, but I honestly doubt I'd have gotten much out of him without the aphrodisiac I'd absorbed into his skin. It take a good look at it while the 'me' from above keeps nipping at this neck.

"So cute..." I give it a little lick and it twitches, "Even while swollen it looks so small."

He sniffs loudly and tears begin to leak from his eyes. His pride as a 'man' no doubt shredded to bits. I begin to play with his member again, taking it into my mouth slipping my tongue inside it to tease out the remaining fluids. He jerks some more, tenses and releases his load once again with a sob.

"So quick," I whisper from behind, one of my arms wrapped around him the other having reached below reinserting myself inside him, playing with his button from the inside and outside, "Hey, does it feel that good boy?"

When he doesn't answer I forcefully shove more of myself inside him. His hips buck and again he releases inside the 'me' eagerly waiting mouth open before him. His shot however is severely lacking.

"Ah, you're almost done," I breath into his ear disappointment tinging the words such that he recoils, "I guess we're almost done."

The spark of hope that shown in his eyes warmed me up inside as the 'me' from bellow moved aside and I positioned myself on top of him, readying myself for the final coupling.

"That's too bad, I had hoped you'd give me more fun before I devoured you."

His look of horror was something I would deeply treasure, and the conflict soon after when I forced myself down on him was a thing of bliss.


* * *

So It's Taylor as The Queen of Slimes Erubettie.

Master Trigger Emma

(Автор: Ayden)

This was from an Emma triggers a Master ability idea about 5-6 pages ago.

I curse the night I decided to go out.

I was out hunting for some way to relieve stress when I noticed some thugs cornering a girl in an alleyway. I was feeling cranky, and decided to take it out on these losers when I blinked and suddenly I noticed the girl looking at me.

Without any conscious decision from me, my finger tightened on my crossbow's trigger and a bolt shot out to strike one of the thugs. I could feel myself leaping down, phasing myself in a way to prevent any damage to myself, while loading another bolt into the crossbow. I wanted to yell out in anger as I realized that the girl must be some kind of Master, because I did not want to do this! I'd normally stay at a distance, sniping them off with my crossbow to make the best use of my powers.

As the other thug went down, *I* walked up to the Master and asked if she was alright. If I had control over my body right now, I would be shooting a bolt through her head right now since she's in complete control of the situation.

However, instead of the confident answer I expected, it seemed that she acts surprised and shocked at my arrival, as if she wasn't the one who made me come down in the first place. She asks why it took me so long to arrive, and I could hear myself say some bullshit about predator and prey — I mean, yeah, having powers is pretty much the whole 'Strongest survives' and shit, but the stuff coming out of my mouth seems to be the dumbest shit ever.

But what makes me sure this girl is the Master is that she buys it. I could see the gears in her tiny little brain spinning as someone who looked rather well dressed runs in towards the girl (Emma) and hugs her.

I feel myself say some corny line about being more careful in the future and make my escape. To my hatred and frustration, I failed to regain my body even when I return home, and my thoughts chilled at what the Master could do while in control of my body to the only person who mattered to me. Fortunately, it seems that whatever power the Master had, it controlled me to act much like how I normally am, but now I realized that I may never regain control over my body. If I could be so far away and yet still not have control, then... can I expect this power to end? I'm reminded of victims of an attack from the Simurgh, how the PRT said that they act according to the Endbringer's plans unknowingly; except maybe this is what happens, where they are trapped within their bodies while it continues to move without the mind.

Even if I wish to shudder, my lack of control means that I could do nothing but watch and feel how this 'other' me continues to live my life.


* * *

Emma, if she is the Master, clearly does not know about her own powers. She seems to look at the other me as a sort of encouragement for her attitude towards her old friend. I've tried multiple times to break free from this shll of mine, but I lose consciousness whenever my body sleeps and there doesn't seem to be any way to retake control over my body.

Meanwhile, my paroling has become more extreme and brutal, while my other self's daytime activities seem to revolve around Emma. At this point, I'm hoping that I start attracting the attention of the PRT in hopes that someone would be able to tell that I'm Mastered. But... even if they do, how are they going to free me? Are they going to treat me like a Simurgh victim and lock me away forever? Will they have some other kind of Master take control of me 'for my own good'? With my powers, it's also going to be extremely hard to catch me if they are not prepared.

Well, if getting hurt is what it takes to regain my body, I'd be willing to do it. But if they decide to trap me in some room and lock me away forever... At least this prison doesn't bore me out of my mind — especially since that's the only thing left for me now.


* * *

Of all the USELESS PIECE OF TRASH that calls himself an EMPATH! Of course I'm fucking angry! You can't even tell that I'm not myself right now! What else should I be feeling, you stupid piece of SHIT?

I've been forced to be a Ward for two weeks now, and this ASSHOLE can't even tell that I'm not in control of myself. MOOD SWINGS he says. STOP BEING SO ANGRY he says! ARG!

If I ever get free of this, the first thing I'm going to do is RIP HIM A NEW ONE!


* * *

Holy shit. Emma is such a messed up fuckup, and so is that other me that's helping her out. While I have to say that I don't really care much about Taylor, doing this to her is bound to cause troubles — troubles that other me should really be avoiding. But this really just put another nail in the coffin to the theory that Emma is the Master, since I don't think anyone other than someone Mastered in my situation would risk so much to bully some random girl.

Goddamnit. At this point, I'm almost willing to have this blow up in my face just so that someone would figure everything out. I've been trapped here for so long it's starting to feel like I'm the one doing all these things. If it wasn't for the fact that Emma is always nearby, I might even forget that fact.

God, maybe that's how her powers actually work. It makes you act in a certain way, and if it keeps going for so long you just forget that it's not really you who's doing all these things. And it would likely work too, since I feel like I'm doing everything, even if I can't do anything else...

Oh God. please let me be wrong. I don't want to be this person who's acting like me. I don't want to be friends with Emma. I don't want to start thinking that these are things I'd do. I don't want to lose myself anymore... Please, I admit it. I'm not so strong to be able to fight this forever. I'm really scared of what's happened. I'm scared. I don't want this. Someone, please, someone figure out that this isn't me! Please, someone save me...

My Life As A Sex Toy Tinker

(Автор: NaughtyBanette)

-Eros—

"Hey, where do you keep the good shit?" The thug in front of me asks, reminding me again of why some days I hate the fact that I set up in Brockton Bay. The idiot can't even keep his pants up above his waist line, let alone afford 90% of the stuff in the shop.

"What is it exactly you're looking for?" I sigh, leaning my head on my prosthetic metal arm as I rest over the counter. It's nice being your own boss, for multiple reasons.

"You know, the shit that makes girls into sex-craving zombies or something." He grunts, and his compatriots nod. "The good shit."

"Sorry, fresh out of 'zombie cologne'." I roll my eyes. Such a thing would be 'lawsuit in a can' anyways. "You'll have to make do with your overwhelming charm and machismo."

"You mocking me you little bitch?" The thug growls, stepping towards the counter.

"Of course not, you're a valued customer." I yawn, hearing the bell on the door chime. "One who wouldn't dare threaten the store owner. I mean, what would Squealer say if she knew you'd gotten all of the merchants banned from Eros' Erotic Emporium?"

The thug blanches, and his companions have the common sense to drag him out of the store in a hurry. I keep an ear out for the sound of any alarms going off, but it looks like they were smart enough not to try stealing. "Got problems?"

"Nothing major Bakuda." I straighten up, stretching my arms out for a moment. "Same old bullshit with the merchants. Never should have let slip that I can make sexual drugs."

"It would have come out anyways, half of the good toys have that sort of stuff as components." She practically flounces up to the counter, wearing her dark hair tied up in a ponytail and one of the special masquerade masks I provided customers. They gave off a mild stranger effect that prevented anyone but me from knowing who they were while in the store. Of course, they could be calibrated for groups if necessary, but the relative anonymity was a big boon towards my store remaining neutral.

"Anyways, I could always try out some new ideas if they give you any trouble. I was thinking of like, rigging a bomb inside someone, keyed to trigger when they climax." She grins widely. "Think about it, it'd be amazing. Trying to coax someone past the fear using every trick in the book, teasing them towards the edge, with them knowing that when they blow, they blow."

I try not to wince at the description. "I doubt anyone would willingly go along with that."

"Duh." She rolls her eyes, suppressing a giggle. "I'm still working on that bomb that destroys only clothing, by the way. That should be like a party in a can."

"It's no big deal. Squealer will keep them in line. Between Skidmark and my toys, one of the two gives her reliable orgasms. If I banned the Merchants she'd probably quit." I shrug. "Anyways, you here for something specific or just the usual?"

"Got anything that can restrain an angry dragon?" She jokes weakly, looking nervous.

"He's that mad huh? I told you bombing the PRT building to get him out was a bad idea." I sigh, shaking my head. "Nah, if I had restraints that good the PRT would already be using them."

"Still weird that they use your bondage gear to restrain super villains." Bakuda snickers.

"One of the villains keeps managing to guess every safe word they use. I've gotten a dozen complaints. I don't know how they've even caught her that often. I told them if they didn't want to pay store price they could get custom orders..."

"Fuck 'em. You know how they are to tinkers like us. Never enough respect for what we do." My sometimes collaborator replies. "Anyways, now that Lung is back I don't need to keep sleeping with people as an incentive to work hard and all that."

"There goes my business?" I tease.

"Nah, still going to do it. Orgies are fucking fun." She snickers. "Gotta love having a hair-trigger."

"Which brings up one of my latest inventions. I figured you'd have a bukakke fetish..."

"That's racist."

"So I whipped up this." I put a pack of candies on the counter, each one looking like a stick of gum. "Cum-gum."

"Terrible name."

"Shut up. Anyways, have someone chew this and they'll spew way more than they should when they blow. Good for three shots, at least." Her eyes lit up like it was christmas, and she quickly started counting out dozens of the sticks. Inwardly I heard the cha-ching of a cash register with every murmured number.

"Combined with these..." I put a set of small filled shot glasses on the counter. "Took me a while to get it right, but drinking these will change the flavor of their spunk. Makes it nutritious too, you could literally eat it as a meal."

"Fucking win!" She grins, looking down at the assorted flavors. "Do you have like, a whole crate of banana pudding?"

"Yep."


* * *

"So what the fuck is this supposed to be?" I don't know where Bakuda got most of her money, but I really didn't care all that much. Even the PRT had to admit, villains spending money on sex toys was a good thing. She gestured at the machine taking up the entire back corner of the wall.

"Age changer. It's mostly done." I grunt, putting down her crate and walking up to it.

"You're shitting me. You've got the secret of immortality sitting right there?" She gapes, looking it over.

"Age-play is a fetish." I shrug. There was really no limit to my tinkering specialty so long as it could be sexualized, it seemed. It just turned out that people had some seriously odd kinks.

"Like your arm." Bakuda noted with a frown. Yeah, prosthetics are a fetish for some people as well. Lucky me. I lifted the metallic limb in question and gave a small wave.

"Yep. Anyways, it's not perfect, and it won't make you immortal. The change lasts only like a day or so at a time, and it can be stressful on the body. The older you are when you go in, the more likely it is to do serious damage." Eventually people would be too old to become young again, and no one could really use it on a regular basis.

"Still though, it's like the beacon of youth right there. How much are you charging?" She leans forward to inspect the construction, giving me a decent look at her ass.

"Probably like $500 a use. Enough to keep casual people from abusing it." I explain, stepping up behind her.

"And you're sure it works?" She asks, not looking up.

"Well... It hasn't been tested on people yet. But you know how tinker-tech works, I'm sure it's relatively safe..." I reach up with one foot and give her a light shove, sending her toppling into the machine.

"What the-" There's a dull whump of displaced air and a flash of light as Bakuda's voice goes up an octave. "Fuck! Oh, you did not just..."

"Oh my god, you're adorable." I gush, looking at the much younger Bakuda.

"Oh come on! You bitch! Slut! Eros you turned me into a fucking Loli!" She rants, climbing out of the machine. "I'll fucking blow your tits off for this! I'll turn them into bombs! I'll-"

"Relax ,it's temporary, it worked, and I won't even charge you." I snicker.

"Fuck... I had an orgy planned and everything." She pouts, looking even more adorable. Well, aside from the fact that she's practically swimming in her old clothes. I think I've got some cute outfits around here somewhere. "How the hell am I supposed to maintain my rep if I show up like this?"


* * *

-Bakuda—

The walk back to base was fucking humiliating. A sun dress. A yellow fucking sundress and a god damn hat. That's what Eros came up with as a fucking disguise!

I look adorable, but still!

I had to walk through Brockton Bay, after sunset, looking like god damn loli. I was going to get killed, or raped, or raped and killed. I didn't even have any of my really fun bombs on me. What a fucking day.

"Open up assholes!" I kick the door again, letting my displeasure out. The hatch in the door opens, and I can feel eyes on me. "It's me... Bakuda you moron! It's Bakuda, open up or I'll fucking blow the door down."

Despite my changed voice, that seems to do the trick. Some mook hauls the door open and stares down at me. I hold up a finger and glare, holding his gaze until he gives up. It takes longer than it usually does. I probably look adorable.

"Uh... Boss wants to see you?" He mumbles, stepping out of the way.

Wonderful. Fucking wonderful. I'm going to murder Eros for this. This is NOT funny at all! I've been trying to earn rep with this gang for months now, to get the same respect and awe as Oni Lee or even Lung himself. I've been trying to get them to see me as anything more than a god damn tool.

Still, when Lung got captured I had to bribe the gang with my own body to get them to listen to me long enough to get him out. Not to mention how apathetic Kenta is towards me, even after all of this. For such a hot-headed man he sure has a heart of ice.

Throwing the bag full of purchases down near the lounge area I head right up to Lung's office, knocking tentatively. Maybe I can get through this, pass it off as some kind of joke... Maybe...

A muffled "Enter" echoes through the door and I step into his office. I know better than to speak first, so I simply step in and keep my eyes on the ground. Only silence greets me.

Glancing up, I spot something incredible. Kenta's face is bright red, and... Is that steam coming out his nose? As I watch he begins to grow, and I wonder exactly how pissed he must be at me. Then I notice his height isn't the only thing growing. "Oh my..."


* * *

-Oni Lee—

I enter the base in silence, simply walking past the door guard as he gives me a small nod. There's a good number of people milling about tonight, more than usual. A set of nondescript plastic bags near the lounge reminds me why. Bakuda was planning another party.

I give a snort of contempt, turning towards the nearest person. None of them seem too put out that she isn't here at the moment at least. "Where's Bakuda?"

"Boss's room." He replies politely, inclining his head. I nod, and head up the stairs. He's been pissed at her lately, she's been too loud, too public. Drawing too much attention. I may have to step in before he kills her.

A muffled slap echoes from inside the room, audible even through the closed door. "Noooo~! Onii-chan, don't spank my poor loli butt! It's too small and sensitive!"

I blink, wondering if I'm hearing it right. Another smack, a bit louder this time. "Ouch! Onii-chan no~! I'll be a good girl I promise!"

Well... Seems Kenta has everything under control.


* * *

-Eros—

"Good morning and welcome to-" I cut off, spotting Bakuda enter the shop. She's not dressed the way she was last night, and I sort of wonder where she got the extra clothing. "Oh, it's you. How was your night?"

"Shut up." She grumbles, but can't quite hide the spring in her step. Nor can she hide the slightly bow-legged gait. "You and I are going to find a way to make this permanent."

"Oh? I figured you'd want to kill me." I honestly didn't expect this to go so well.

"Yeah well..." She shrugs, shuffling about. Since when was Bakuda shy? "You know Lung? Well, it turns out everything grows."

"Wow... You did... Like that?" Good for her. Ow, but good for her.

"Turns out he's got a sister complex the size of Brockton Bay." She giggles. "I've found out how to secure my future, I just need to make this change permanent."


* * *

-Eros—

The beep of the front door opening pulled me from my latest work, and I swiveled around to dash out to the front. A quintet of giggling girls shuffled nervously into the store, fixing their masks on their faces. Unnecessary, as they were the only ones here at the moment.

"Welcome, let me know if I can help you find anything!" I call out, beaming as they giggle a bit more. Too young to really be shopping here, but I've managed to pull a few strings. The relative anonymity of this business has its perks.


* * *

-Amy—

The store isn't exactly what I expected it to be. It's not as gaudy, for one, and certainly not as dark and sensuous as I'd expect it to be.

If anything, it's too clean. Almost sterile in appearance. The shelves are all tall and neat, lined with goods of all types and colors. There's a fresh scent in the air, clean and wholesome, not the kind of musk I'd expect really.

It'd been Vicky's friend's idea to come here, really. They ganged up on us, heckling us to come take a look on a dare. They thought it'd make themselves seem mature or something, but the constant giggling was doing anything but. I can't imagine actually buying something, it'd be too embarrassing.

"Hey there!" The surprisingly loud voice catches me off guard and I practically jump out of my skin, fumbling to not drop the toy in my hands. Why is there a toy in my hands? I don't remember picking it up

"Uh, h-hi, er hello." I stumble, accidentally squeezing the toy. It's got a nice sort of give to it, not too squishy and not too firm. Glancing down at it, I immediately recognize the shape. Oh... Wow.

"I'm Eros, the store owner and resident tinker. You're Amy Dallon right?" She speaks quietly, but I can't help but cringe. Of course she knows who I am. "I'm a big fan, let me tell you" She grins, and I spare a moment to check her out while she's distracted.

Short blonde hair, messy in the way most tinkers seem to have, like the hair was a conduit for their myriad stray thoughts. An oval face with a small slightly upturned nose and brown eyes. She was barely taller than me, probably not very much older either. "Oh, uh, it's nice to meet you."

She rolls her shoulder, drawing attention to the short black tank-top that covers her chest and the metal arm attached to her shoulder. It's enough, thankfully, to draw my eyes away from her rather fit stomach and cut off shorts. "That's..." I don't mean to stare, or bring it up, really, but...

"Oh this old thing? One of the first things I built, actually. Been working on it ever since. Check it out." She holds the hand out, showing no signs of it being anything less than a perfectly good arm. I grasp the hand and stifle a gasp. It's warm, and soft, like a real thing. "Cool right? Built in force field projector. It can even feel, and do this-"

The arm starts to vibrate softly, and I do my best to stifle a blush. Wait, am I still holding that dildo? With a small squeak I put it back on the shelf. "So uh... What is that, anyways?" Smooth, Amy, smooth.

"Hm? It's a dildo silly. You pick a hole to stuff it in, and go to town with it." She laughs. "Not everything in here is high tech you know. Not everyone can afford the battery powered, laser-shooting, rocket launching dildo that's so good it'll give you seizures."

I laugh weakly, turning to look back at the shelf as she continues. "I actually built that thing, but had to discontinue it. People would still use it, despite the health risks."

I stifle a snort at that, actually loosening up a bit. "So why build all this stuff?"

"It's what I'm good at." She shrugs. "That, and well... I think the world would be less violent if people got laid more often. Hell, I like to think half of the capes in this city would be less violent if they just rubbed one out regularly."

That is so not my problem. I blush, remembering just this morning when Vicky hit me with her aura first thing after waking up. Nearly ran out of hot water in the shower. "So uh... What's your most popular item?"

"Hmm... For window shopping it's got to be this thing." Eros grabs my elbow and guides me through a couple of aisles to a glass display case. Inside is a metalic-looking dildo that looks strangely similar to her arm. "Tada! What do you think?"

"It's... Pretty?" I venture, not sure what I'm looking at.

"The ultimate strap-on. Adjusts to pretty much any size humanly possible, and a few that aren't. Attaches with no straps. Has settings to adjust heat and vibration frequency, as well as automatically adjusting angle of insertion for maximum pleasure. Even has an option to allow it to ejaculate." She grins, throwing an arm around my shoulder conspiratorially. "All in all, that makes it a super dildo, right? But the best part is... It's got a neural interface. Once it's calibrated, it'll feel like it's your cock. Every inch of it will feel like a body part, and you can even adjust the sensitivity."

"That's... Wow." I'd never even thought of something like that as being possible. It's like a prosthetic cock, only it works on girls too. I've regrown limbs before, could I... Oh god, the mental image of Vicky with a cock. Mustn't drool, mustn't drool...

"Sadly, it's way out of most people's price range. So I just get plenty of regulars who come in to look at it and sigh lustfully." She teases. With what I've got in my trust fund from all of my work at the hospital, I could probably... No Amy, you're not spending your life savings on a cock.

"It's impressive. Really." I turn away from it before I lose my willpower, instead looking over at a shelf that seems to be novelty items. Pills that make your skin taste like chocolate or other flavors, candies that er... Clean out your insides. "Actually... The hospital could probably use these, before some procedures."

"Way ahead of you kiddo, I sell them to the local ones sometimes." Eros smiles. "This is the one-shot stuff. Some of it's pretty nifty to have in general, but a lot of it is... Flavored to taste. These ones, for instance..." She holds up a pack of condoms, half red half blue. "Bit of a novelty thing, but any sensation the red one picks up is transferred to the blue one."

I snicker, blushing a bit. "I can't even begin to imagine... Uh... Tentacle monster in a can?" Do I even want to know?

"Not even kidding." Eros smirks. "Just add water, and you'll get about an hour's worth of fun. Comes in party size too, able to 'service' about two dozen people."

"Isn't that... What if someone throws one of those into a public pool or something?" I ask, picking up a can and reading the label.

"If they're that stupid, I'm obligated to help the police track down my customers. Sorry, but that sort of thing comes before privacy." She shrugs. "Really though... If someone assaults someone else with a strap-on, do you arrest the rapist or the toy-store owner?"

"True..." I glance back down at my purchase.

"Tell ya what, that ones on the house. I'm curious to see what you make of it."

"W-what? I can't... I wouldn't..." I sputter, feeling all of my blood rush to my face. Sure, I was considering picking up something small maybe, something tamer. It'd be a shame to see all of this stuff and not get anything... But a tentacle monster? How would...

"Hey, don't be nervous, they're really attentive lovers. Trust me, one of those will take away a month of sexual tension easily. Just run a hot bath, put some nice candles on, some relaxing music-I sell candles by the way-and drop him in the water when you're ready. After about an hour he'll dissolve harmlessly." She grins, turning away to attend to my sister and her friends.

I couldn't... Could I? I mean... Fuck it. Blushing heavily, I stuffed the can into my purse and went to pick out a few more harmless things.


* * *

-Eros—

"Hey, can I help you with anything?" I smile at the other customers who are all gathered around giggling at my products. It's a bit depressing, really, when they do this. These toys are my creations, and I really want them to be used. Half the time every joking comment made about using one is hiding their own insecurities.

"Oh um... Well..." They shuffle about, still giggling a little bit. One of them is holding a rather intricate looking butt plug. Deciding to have a little fun my eyes light up.

"Oh! That's a good choice." I grin, causing the girl to flush harder. "I love that one, really, and it's pretty popular too. It goes in your ass, and then using that dial it'll fill you up with either hot or cold water. No tubes required."

The girl fumbles with it for a moment before putting it back on the shelf. "Not really my thing." She admits with a smile, though I notice one of the other girls still eyeing it. "Is it true you have a um... Back room, for hook ups and stuff?"

"Yeah! I heard you have glory holes and things." Another one pitches in.

"I don't, actually. And we don't let people test out the merchandise, no matter what people say." I laugh. "Though... We do have a list you can put your name down on. If it comes up, I'll call you in as a test subject."

"Test subject?" It's Glory Girl, err, Victoria who asks first, seemingly interested.

"Yep. Just by being on the list you get a discount at the store." I explain cheerfully. "If your name comes up, I call you in and have you test out whatever toy prototype I've cooked up. You give me your honest opinion, and trust me there's a lot of questions, and that's that. It's not for the faint of heart though, some of the toys get pretty kinky."

"We've noticed." One of Vicky's friends snorts. What, this stuff? This is barely kinky. Prudes. Vicky, at least, seems to consider the offer. I can't exactly advertise that anything is 'Glory Girl approved' but still... Toys for Brutes have a market.

"So what's this thing do?" Vicky asks, holding up a small ring and what looks like a cap-less onahole.

"Oh, good choice. Perfect for long distance lovers." I grin widely. "The ring goes in the hole of your choice, usually the vagina or anus, and should fit snugly and comfortably. Generally you won't even notice it's there."

"What's the point, if you can just leave it in and not notice anything?" Vicky asks.

"Because that's where this comes in." I explain, turning the ring on and holding up the other piece. "Anything inserted in here..." I flip the switch and push a finger inside. It disappears and reappears, wiggling around through the ring. "Tongues, fingers, toys... Cocks."

"Fucking cool..." Vicky's eyes light up as the rest of the girls giggle.

"Very. As a bonus, the portal sterilizes anything passing through it, harmlessly. No risk of pregnancy or anything." Now you're fucking with portals. Goes without saying not to let the boyfriend loan his toy around. Or let sneaky sisters steal the ring.

"I'll take it." Vicky announces loudly, to the shock of her friends. I lead her over to the desk as they continue to giggle. "And sign me up for that prototype thingy."


* * *

Vicky looked down at the device in her hand, laying back on her bed. She was fully clothed, wearing her pajamas, but she'd taken the opportunity to put her end in as soon as possible. "I still can't believe I bought this." She murmured, looking at the device. "Still..."

With a bit of a smirk, she flipped it on and gently prodded the entrance with a finger. Her hips squirmed as she felt the slight pressure down below, like a ghostly finger somehow molesting her through her own clothing. Emboldened, she pushed the finger in a bit further, feeling the familiar warm wetness of her nethers.

"Way more convenient." She muttered, closing her eyes with a deep sigh as she began to move the finger about, pushing it in as deep as it would go. And it certainly went deeper than she was used to. Since she could rotate the device, she could reach all sorts of spots she could never reach before as well.

"This-" She sighed. "Was a wonderful idea." Adding a second finger, because she wasn't in one of her 'rough moods' that usually required at least three, she began to earnestly explore her own depths. Her hips rocked and bucked, occasionally arching her back off the mattress entirely as she continued to poke and prod, remaining clothed the entire time.

Sucking in a final gasp of air, almost silent from years of practice, she felt her muscles tense up and her toes girl. There was a spot, one tiny little spot in there that felt amazing, and she was going to beat Gallant senseless until he found it. With a final sigh she slumped back against the bed, eyes hooded as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Your show is on." She snapped awake immediately, her dazed state evaporating from the forefront of her mind as she realized who was speaking. "Are you going to watch it?" Her mother asked, looking on with concern.

"I uh..." Holy crap, her mother just walked in on her... On her... Well, doing nothing obvious, that's for sure. She was still fully dressed, and the toy was rather inconspicuous looking. Probably on purpose. "Yeah, I'll be down in a bit." Aside from her red face and slight pant, there was probably no evidence of any naughty business.

I could probably get away with doing this anywhere. She pondered, biting her lip. And that's the point. With this, Dean can take me whenever he feels like it. No matter where I am or what I'm doing.

She paused to think on it more for a moment. I'll have to warn him before I go on patrols. Don't want him to start fucking me while I'm beating up thugs...

The very idea sent a thrill up her spine as her fingers dragged across her sensitive insides, withdrawing from the toy. They came out absolutely soaked, trailing strands of her arousal between them as she spread them out. I wonder if I can send notes this way. She pondered, imagining pushing rolled up pieces of paper up her own snatch with a giggle. I'd have to take it out first.

Almost absentmindedly she found herself licking lightly at her own fingers. She'd done it before, out of curiosity, and found she rather enjoyed it. Not the taste, certainly, but the sort of naughtiness that came with it. It made her feel sexy, so she usually did it after a particularly strong orgasm. Glancing between her fingers and the toy she paused and considered for a moment.

Should I? It's a bit different than licking your fingers after... Still... It's me. It's not gay if you're doing yourself... She suppressed a giggle at that. With something like this, she could make Dean suck his own dick for once. But did she want to...

Fuck yes. She brought the toy up to her mouth like a microphone. Her tongue snaked out, gently inching closer to the toy itself. "Vicky! Your show is starting!"

"God damn it..."


* * *

Amy lay back in the bath with a soft sigh. The water was hot, just barely comfortable, how she liked it. A little bit of pain never hurt anyone, and some days, just between her own thoughts, she felt like she deserved it.

The heat pulsed at her sore and stressed muscles, sinking deep into her body as she closed her eyes, enjoying the soft scent of the candles and the gentle notes of the music. No words, just a soft slow melody to get her in the mood.

She tried not to think about Vicky, didn't want to think about her really, but somehow her thoughts always seemed to drift there. Her hand moved across her flat stomach, resting there and feeling the microbubbles that formed on her skin.

She directed her thoughts elsewhere, to Vicky's friends instead. Michelle, with her round ass and commonly visible thong. What a wonderfully lucious ass it was, larger and rounder than Vicky's, but not quite as 'good'. Christy, with her tiny breasts that none-the-less drew Amy's attention on more than one occasion. Nothing compared to the impressive bust of her sister.

Her hands came up to cup her own modest chest, holding the swell of it in her hands for a moment. At the very least she was better endowed than Eros. She snickered at that, the shopkeeper/tinker was almost boyish, as thin and uncurved as her body was. Breasts small enough that her top revealed she neither wore nor needed a bra. Hips narrow enough that they somehow accentuated the cut off shorts she wore, with the button undone and purple underwear visible.

How had someone so remarkably unsexy gained sex as a specialty?

Well... Unsexy was unfair. She had a flirty smile to her, almost rakish, really. Her confidence, her casual attitude about sex in general, the pure perverted energy she seemed to embody. As straight and graceless as the girl seemed, Amy couldn't help but imagine things.

The feeling of those metal fingers, warm and soft and vibrating deep inside her. The thought of that super strap-on pushing into her as she was bent over that desk, in full view of several customers. The thought of Eros naked and bound, testing out her own 'tentacle monster in a can'.

"Well... That does it." With a small sigh, Amy reached out of the water and picked up the can. Originally she was just going to poke at it, use her powers to see what it was all about. Now? Well... Eros wouldn't be in business if it wasn't safe... Or enjoyable.

Popping the lid off, she held her breath and poured the contents into the bath tub. The powder hit the water with the small hiss of fizz, and at once Amy's powers told her what was going on. Microorganisms, thousands upon millions of them, came to life in the water. They swam about at a rapid clip, linking together into a semisolid mass that thickened the water around her until she was surrounded on all sides.

"Cool." Amy murmured, poking the water as the heat shifted ever so slightly downwards to a more comfortable level. She could feel the thing touching her skin, almost slimy but not disgustingly so, as it slowly began to eat away at her dead skin, like some kind of expensive spa treatment.

Ever so slowly the creature, or rather, the mass of creatures, extended tendrils that wound around her body. It was gentle, sensuous even, caressing across her stomach and arms, winding around her wrists and ankles. A single tendril moved up to massage the back of her neck, as gentle as a lover giving relief after a long and tough day.

More tendrils, like long thin fingers, dug into her back, working at her sore and tense muscles as another set worked on her calves. She relaxed completely, feeling out where it was and what it was doing with her powers even as she felt the numerous strands at work, kneading away her stress.

After what felt like an age the massaging tentacles were joined by more intimate ones. A pair reached up to her bust, coiling around them at the same leisurely pace, like a pair of tongues teasingly working towards her nipples. A second tentacle teased at her thighs, causing her to spread her legs in agitation and anticipation, inviting it onwards and upwards.

But it still came on at the same slow pace, teasing inch by inch up her left thigh, to the fork of her legs. The tip of it, like a warm wet tongue, traced its way up the very edge of her left lower lips, licking from bottom to top before circling her clit gently. Her hips squirmed, but she noticed for the first time how thoroughly bound she really was.

For such a small creature, they certainly were well coordinated. Of course, she could use her powers to escape at any time, but that wasn't the goal. The tongue circled once, twice, three times, before returning down the right side of her needy cunt. Then, with that same teasing movement it moved away, licking down the inside of her right thigh.

"Oh for fuck sake..." Amy groaned, laying her head back in the water as the tentacles continued to work on her muscles, moving on to her lower back. It felt amazing, but all this teasing was getting to her.

A thin tentacle danced across her lips, and she opened her eyes to gaze at it. Like a tongue, teasing her into a kiss, she opened her mouth to embrace it. The taste wasn't unpleasant at all, almost sweet and minty, like a kiss from someone who recently brushed their teeth. The pseudo— tongue tangled with hers, exploring her mouth as it massaged the sensitive muscle within.

The tentacles on her breasts finished their teasing, becoming seemingly content with rhythmically squeezing her chest and toying with her nipples. Not that she'd complain, as she slowly felt her heat beat begin to synchronize with their actions. It felt wonderful, firm enough to be enjoyable without feeling as though her breasts were being mauled. And that feeling only grew as the tentacle between her legs returned once more from its teasing journey.

The tongue-like appendage once more continued to tease her, this time dipping in between her lips as it made its way up and down her needy slit. Her sensitive clit was still ignored, save for occasionally brushing against it with almost accidental motions. The irregularity of it drove her wild, causing her hips to squirm and buck against the soft bindings.

And then it dipped lower, past her positively molten hole, to circle against the tight ring below. That was a new feeling entirely to Amy, who's eyes shot open at the sensation. She'd figured it was a possible result, and mentally she'd prepared for that possibility but... To feel something like a tongue prodding around back there?

"Oh god..." She groaned, her face heating up further at the indecency of it all. She didn't know what to say, what to think of it all. Did she want that? She could stop it now if she didn't...

Surprisingly, it felt rather... Good. "Be gentle." She whimpered, even as a larger, thicker tentacle pushed up against her needy pussy. This she embraced happily, her hips squirming as it gently pushed its way inside. It wasn't too large, and the sort of pliability of the 'monster' made it even easier to accept the intrusion as it pushed its way inside, splitting apart her lips and barging in without so much as a 'by your leave'.

She stifled a groan, gladly accepting the tentacle before her into her mouth once more to avoid screaming out for her family to hear. It was thicker this time, more like a cock than a tongue, but that didn't matter much by now. It pushed in and out of her mouth as she licked and suckled it, her mind focused entirely on the cock below, how it pushed in steadily until it filled her up, how it expanded and twisted to rub at every inch of her insides.

It felt wonderful, like the massage across her body was being carried over to an internal massage as well. She'd never felt so relaxed, so satisfied. When it began to thrust, she could tell it was entirely for her own pleasure. It bumped and ground and teased at her insides, even as a smaller tongue-like tendril lapped gently at her clit.

Her first orgasm came quickly, as her newly softened muscles clenched and spasmed, her back arching in her bonds. She clenched down on her muscles, stretching them until they burned pleasantly. "Yes...." She hissed against the cock-tentacle in her mouth, groaning as the deep feeling of satisfaction worked its way through her.

And the monster continued.

Blearily, Amy realized that it hadn't been close to an hour yet. How in the world did people keep this up? Was she supposed to just lay here, being molested until the water went cold? She could kill it instantly but...

The tentacles continued their work, pushing in and out of her body with ceaseless determination that slowly stoked her fires up once more. They changed it up regularly, swapping between simply thrusting to adding twists and bulges to their masses. Even the tongue-tentacle on her clit would randomly switch between simply licking at it gently to sucking hard on the nub of flesh.

As her second climax drew near, Amy felt the tongue on her rear entrance change. She'd almost forgotten about it, so lost was that pleasant sensation amidst all the others. As the tentacle changed shape, becoming almost pointed, and began to push into her ass, Amy's eyes widened. She did her best to relax, helped along by how blissed out she was so far, but the feeling was entirely alien to her.

The tentacle twisted and pushed, slowly opening up her tight ring for access, worming its way inside of her and allowing the faintest trickle of hot water to flow into her rear. Throughout it all the others continued their important work, and just as she felt the tingle of another impending orgasm, it happened.

A small spherical mass, like a marble or a large bead, pushed against her ass and entered her with a 'pop'. That single jolt of pleasure set her off again, and by the time her head cleared several more of those beads had pushed their way inside.

They feel like eggs. Amy noted idly, wondering where that idea had come from. She'd heard of anal beads before, even seen a few pair at the store earlier that day. Why did she think of—

Her mind flashed to the bank, being held by the bug-controlling girl. Being pinned by a literal bug-girl as her bug-cock pushed into her ass. The eggs coming one by one, growing bigger with each one that rolled into her waiting ass.

Amy shook her head, at once confused and disturbed by the image. Mostly because of how turned on that had made her. How could she sexualize such a traumatic moment like that? Another popping sensation as an even larger ball of tentacle pushed into her made her groan, resolving to put aside all that deeper thought until her carnal desires had been met.

Apparently loose enough, the tentacle back there shifted into a proper cock, long and thick and bumpy in all the right places. It began to move with the others, setting its own pace as it plumbed her unexplored depths. More. Amy tried to moan against the cock in her mouth, feeling it push even further against the back of her throat.

The tentacles seemed to reach even deeper inside of her, prodding at new soft bits, eliciting shudders and moans from Amy as they drove her to new heights. The one in her mouth pushed forwards even further, entering her throat proper as the young medic's eyes widened. It shoved forwards and back, dancing across her gag reflex as if mocking what a natural born slut she was.

Oh god more. Amy begged mentally, feeling the shudder of a micro-climax wash over her. She hadn't had enough, couldn't get enough, needed more of that wonderful creature inside of her. Deeper, fuller, she wanted more so desperately that she didn't even notice her powers activate. In her sex-crazed state she didn't notice the creature change in subtle ways, moving to coat her entire body instead of simply holding it down.

Encased entirely by the creature, she could only squirm helplessly as even more of it pushed its way inside of her. It was like the entire bath tub was emptying into her lewd snatch and gaping ass, filling her up as the tub drained away. The tendrils expanded slowly, stretching her open until it was almost painful before shrinking down again. Before Amy could even mentally protest the lack of fullness, the tentacles inside of her lower holes inverted inside of her, turning about and coiling around themselves, filling her up without stretching her entrances at all.

Amy couldn't help it, she climaxed immediately as she watched her stomach bulge outwards. She shuddered and shook with a chain of powerful orgasms as the creature seemed to crawl up inside of her, even pouring down her throat to the point where she thought it would touch her stomach. Her hands clawed at the mass of supple fleshy goop, trying to find purchase as her air was cut off from the intrusion.

Not a moment later the tentacle in her mouth drew back, just as her eyes began to roll back and her face began to turn red. Sputtering and coughing, Amy slumped back into the water, letting the creature catch and cradle her head.

Over an hour passed as she lay in the tub, cradled and caressed by her little monster. It continued to rub at her softly, tickling her most sensitive places as she continued to experience little orgasms every few minutes. Her eyes were hooded, and her grin was wide and peaceful. For the first time in quite a while she felt completely blissful.

She didn't realize until much later, when she attempted to leave the tub, that the monster hadn't dissolved as advertised. Instead, it clung to her like a second skin, happily stroking and teasing her body even as she climbed out of the bath on shaky legs. The tendrils inside of her squirmed, rearranging themselves so that her bulge was no longer visible, but the very sensation of having them present nearly doubled her over.

"What the hell..." She muttered, tempted to use her powers to fix the problem. But how? Simply kill the thing? It seemed cruel, to end the existence of something that had brought her so much joy. Maybe... Maybe she could experiment a little bit?

A bit of work had the creature take on her skin tone, making it impossible to tell she was wearing it like a full body stocking. The bits inside of her nethers were still problematic, but she eventually got them to sit still when she didn't want the moving. She'd considered removing them entirely, but didn't quite know where else to put all that extra mass.

As she took a few steps around the bathroom for practice, she realized exactly how sexy it felt. Like having a toy in, or not wearing underwear. Only so much more... Naughty. This, she decided, warranted further experimentation.


* * *

-Eros—

"I understand your concerns, Armsmaster, but I don't see why any dildo would really need a twenty three year battery life." I sigh, leaning on the counter. The man in front of me is... Well, I really don't know what to make of him. Unlike many of my customers, the man is completely shameless, simply strolling in whenever he pleases without even bothering to hide his identity as the leader of the local protectorate.

He scares the crap out of many of my favorite customers doing that.

"Then the battery can be made even smaller, leaving room for more features." He insists, waving the toy around in a rather absurd fashion. "As it stands, there are at least two other systems that are entirely inefficient, if not redundant entirely. If you reduce the size, you could install an entire anti-gravity system to reduce the weight."

"It barely weighs anything at all, as is." I shoot back, hiding a grin.

"You could replace the material with something denser, more durable." And once again the argument circles around again. Why he cares so much about a toy he'll never use...

"I do appreciate your input, Armsmaster, but is there anything I can help you with, business-wise?" I catch him staring once more at my arm, and stifle a blush. I'm rather proud of my work with it, and Armsmaster is quite the fan.

We'd even gotten intimate once, well... Almost. Right there in the back room, on top of my work bench. A few spilled chemicals and a bit too much tinker-talk was the main cause. I was nearly there when he mentioned my arm was 'flawed'.

Killed the mood right quick.

Since then we'd had numerous arguments about potential fixes and upgrades, but I still hadn't forgiven him for the insult, and I'm certain he doesn't even realize what he did wrong.

Boys.

Ah well, I guess I'll have to make do with knowing the size of the scandal that would get out if anyone discovered the one-time affair. The door beeps, saving me as Armsmaster begins to round on another toy. I've 'inspired' him before, which is the only reason I put up with his attempts to help my business.

"Ah, hello again." I smile, trying not to laugh as my new favorite customer enters.

"Eros. Armsy." Bakuda curtsies, looking sinfully cute in her sundress. Her mask is barely there, just a small black thing that circles her eyes and hides the bridge of her nose. The extent of her costume entirely seems to involve her dress, broad hat, and a basket on her arm. No doubt she was carting around some of her favorite explosives under that blanket.

"Good to see you again, back for another dose already?" Already the girl was making me a fortune in repeated costs. I'd given her a discount, she was one of my more valuable customers, but it was still a hefty price tag to be doing repeatedly. Apparently she'd been working on modifying one of her time-stop bombs to keep her young forever, or at least let her reset her age and grow normally from there.

"I've decided you can call me Hanabi, when I'm like this." She giggles, spinning around fast enough to flash an indecent shot of her underwear.

"Aren't you too young to be in here?" Armsmaster states, looking down at the loli. 'Hanabi' giggles, turning to face him.

"I'm actually in my twenties, you know?" She smirks up at the man. "This beautiful body is the result of one of Eros' projects, which I'm trying to perfect. You know us tinkers, we're always trying to reach perfection."

"You're a tinker..."

"That's right. I'd love to collaborate with you some time. I know your specialty is 'miniaturization', but I think I can help you appreciate making some of your things... Bigger." The seductive approach just doesn't seem right coming from her shrunken form. Though the devilish grin is something she should certainly keep.

"If you're really a tinker, I'd be interested in studying some of your work." And once again the innuendo goes right over Armsmaster's head.

"She wants to sleep with you." I state, saving everyone the headache of lines right out of a trashy romance novel.

"Aww, you take all the fun out of it." Hanabi pouts.

"That would be highly inappropriate."

"That's what makes it so much fun. Can you even imagine how tight-" I'm spared from the awkward as the door chimes once more, admitting two more customers wearing masks. One was Emma Barnes, a recurring customer of mine. She had a regular appointment booked to use the machines in the back for about an hour each week. Most people couldn't even take an hour at a time, let alone pay for one. An expensive habit, no doubt about it.

Apparently she had 'issues' to work out. Who am I to judge though.

The second girl I didn't recognize, though she came in with Emma so they were probably friends. The way she actually froze at the sight of Armsmaster wasn't entirely uncommon. I dearly wished he'd ditch the armor one of these days and wear a mask.

"Hello dear, here for your appointment?" I smiled, turning away from the two arguing capes, dimly wondering what Armsmaster would do for a chance at one of 'Hanabi's more esoteric bombs. The grenades that destroy only clothing, for instance, had to have a practical use to them somewhere.

"Actually... I was wondering if you could let my friend here take my spot." Emma replied, pushing her friend forwards. "She's been really wound up lately and I worry it's affecting her-"

"I'm fine." Her friend hissed, rounding on the redhead. "Honestly. I don't need to be hooked up to some fuck machine to feel better about myself."

"Oh no." I state, smiling widely as I hop over the counter. "This isn't a machine like you're imagining, really... Here, let me show you." I grab both girls, noting the way the dark skinned beauty flinches at the physical contact. Hmm, definitely a good choice for the device.

I lead them both into the back room, a brightly lit space practically dominated by a large gel-like chair. "Tada!" I chirp happily, always ecstatic to share my inventions with others. "This is the result of a huge collaboration, so I can't take full credit for it but..."

The two follow me in, Emma looking as enthusiastic as always, her friend seeming nervous. "Oh, right, now that we're alone, I need your name."

"Sophia." Emma replies happily, much to the other girl's annoyance. "She's Sophia."

"Nice to meet you Sophia. Has Emma explained any of this to you?"

"No."

"Alright then. Basically, this devices is used to draw out your most intimate fantasies and desires, allowing you to experience them in incredibly vivid detail. The chair stimulates your body in synchronization with your fantasy, letting you feel everything that's done to you in the simulation."

"So... What, this thing lets you star in your own porno?" Sophia raised an eyebrow, turning to eye the chair.

"Essentially, yes. You can do whatever you like, no matter how taboo or illegal it would be otherwise. Anyone outside the simulation can't even tell what you're doing in there." I smile happily.

"Anything huh? I could even fuck Eidolon or something?" She smiles.

"If that's what you really desire. I'm afraid you don't have a lot of conscious control over what comes up. The machine pulls out your strongest desire, and works from there. You should have a bit of control, being able to change things as if it were a lucid dream, but the amount of control varies." I explain. "There... Have been cases where unstable individual has had their own subconscious desires run away with them..."

"What?" Both Emma and Sophia ask.

"I'm sure I've mentioned this to you, Emma. On your first time?"

"Oh! That, yeah. No, it hasn't happened to me at all." She smiled, blushing heavily. "I'm in complete control over everything. Haha. Yeah, absolute control."

"That's... Reassuring." Sophia grumbles. "How likely is that to happen?"

"Very unlikely. It would take a combination if very strong, very repressed desires, as well as a staggering lack of self discipline." I explain, waving off their concerns. "Even then, you'll be able to program a safe word. Simply say the word during the simulation and you'll be able to escape."

"And that's foolproof?" Sophia asked.

"Yep. So long as you actually want to escape, you'll pop right out." I smile back. "Now then, shall we get started?"

Sophia stays silent for a moment, staring at the pod. "Yeah. I can handle this no problem." And with that she begins to undress. Her shirt comes off first, her sports bra following a few moments after. Her bust isn't anything to write home about, but it suits her athletic body. All lean muscle

and tight curves, her breasts a gentle slope to her chest and capped with dark nipples. Her stomach is even more attractive, chiseled in a way that makes you want to run your fingers, or a tongue across the grooves of her abs.

Her pants come off with a certain attractive confidence, and I watch as Emma's eyes trace along the strong legs and toned rear. Those legs, almost deadly-looking for all their lean power, accentuate the tight flesh of her ass. The kind you want to kneel down and worship.

She turns without much care, and Emma is slow to remove her eyes from her friend's lower body. The flush on her pale face seeming to light up the room. Remaining professional, I note the hairless junction of the girl's junction with only a clinical interest before returning my eyes to hers. "What now?"

"We provide a variety of scented oils, which can be used to have the machine massage you into the hypnotic state, if you like. The process eases the transition, blurring the line between fantasy and reality further, and is a great way to relax tense muscles." 'Which you have a lot of.'

"Oh, you should totally do it. I always do. The apple cinnamon one is amazing." Emma gushes, rushing over to the rack of oils. Her naked friend follows after a brief pause to inspect me.

"This one, I think." She states after a moment, spending only a moment smelling each oil before making her decision. "How do I-"

"I can apply it for you, if you like." She frowns at that idea. Unfortunate, but not uncommon. "Or you can have your friend do it." I add with a shrug.

The vial is all but snatched from her hands as Emma gets to work. She pours a generous helping into her palm and slathers her hands together, before bringing them to the back of Sophia's neck.

It's like watching a giddy child give a bath to a panther. There's an air of danger about Sophia that seems to scream begrudging irritation towards Emma as the girl's hands roam across her muscles. She's only supposed to be spreading the oil around, but I watch as those fingers traces across each muscle, mapping them out in a surprisingly intimate way.

My own powers kick in, picking up the name of each muscle as the oiled fingers trace over them, as well as watching the subtle tells that show me where each and every sensitive spot is. Some would find that sort of raw, unfiltered information as unsexy, but I'm not one of the. I can remember intimate nights where I gave a massage to a girlfriend, kissing and naming each muscle of her body as I went.

Emma's hands linger a bit too long across Sophia's bust, and even longer as they slide across the curve of the darker girl's ass. The muted squeak of alarm as a pair of slick fingers slide down between the crack, no doubt pushing a bit too insistently at what lay between them.

To say nothing of the way the girl's hand slips between Sophia's legs, the palm smearing warm oil across the lips with a grind too sexy, too intimate, to be casual. She moves on soon enough, before anyone can really vocalize a complaint, an continues molesting the girl's legs until she's covered in oil from head to toe.

"All done then?" Emma jumps as I speak up, still grinning. "Careful not to slip, just climb into the chair and relax. It'll feel a bit odd at first, but that's just it calibrating to your nervous system."

Sophia does as instructed, climbing into the chair and squirming only slightly as she sinks into the gel. It softens at first contact, letting her sink in until only the very front of her face is above the surface, before hardening into a denser consistency. I flip a few buttons, starting the process, and the girl lets out a pleased sigh as it starts to vibrate.

"Enjoy." Emma smiles widely at her friend, fidgeting slightly as she watches.

"She'll be in there for an hour." I note, stepping up next to the girl.

"I've been meaning to purchase a few things from here..." The redhead states slowly. "What's your policy on product testing?"


* * *

-Sophia—

I'll say this much, that chick was not lying about the massage. I thought it would be one of those kinky things, just dry-fucking me for a few minutes until it rubbed one out, but instead it was almost invasive how good it was. Every muscle, every knot and every bruise, every sweet spot on my body was hit in just the right way until I couldn't tell where I ended and the slime began.

My mind felt like mush only a few minutes in, so I guess I can be excused for falling asleep.

Waking up, however, was pretty messed up.

I'm laying face down, which is disorienting on so many levels, since I'm pretty sure I'm actually sitting face up in the chair still. This has got to be my imagination right? Just like they explained.

Though, that wouldn't explain why I'm laying face down on a rough stone block. It's fucking uncomfortable, and I'm pretty sure no one would want this.

Taking a deep breath, I look around the room. I can still smell the sweet fragrance of the oil, still feel the warm slipperiness of it on my skin. But the air is warmer here, filled with a gentle smoke. It's lit, as well, by candles. Far too many candles. Nothing romantic about it, it looks like I'm about to be sacrificed on an altar by a cult.

The worst thing, though, are the chains around my wrists and ankles. They're equally uncomfortable, squeezing and pinching at my skin when I try to move, and are too study for me to pull out of.

Fuck this. I'm not laying her naked while some inbred cultist cuts my heart out or something. A moment of concentration renders me immaterial— And a painful electric current runs through my body in response.

It starts from my bindings, running up my arms like white-hot fire and shooting up and down my spine. My mind goes haywire for a moment, my vision turning white as I try not to bite my tongue. My body spasms, the relaxed muscles clenching hard as the current passes through them, shooting down to my tailbone. The heat fades as I revert back to my normal state, but it seems to pool around my hips.

There's a muted chuckle from behind me.

"What the-" I hiss as something unbearably hot drips down on me from above and lands between my should blades. It stings, remaining in position and slowly losing its molten heat as two more drops fall down on me. "Fuck! What the fuck is going on?"

My voice is hoarse. Did I scream when I got shocked? I don't think I'm that weak. It barely hurt. "You've been naughty, Sophia." That voice is familiar, hauntingly so, but I can't place it. It tweaks something in the back of my mind though, something primal.

I don't belong here. "Let me go~!" I struggle against the bonds, pulling at them as more drops of molten something drip down on me. I flinch, going intangible out of reflex. The shock comes quickly, and even though I'm ready for it I lose my will almost immediately.

That same burning washes over me, filling my mind with pain and leaving dull tingling sensation in its wake. "F-fuck..." I gasp, as the dripping stops.

"Ah~ Ah~ Ah~" That same voice taunts. "No escaping for you, not until you admit you've been naughty, and accept your punishment."

Safe word. I've got to use the safe word. What was it again? "Hedgehog."

Nothing happens. Why the fuck is nothing happening? "Hedgehog!"

"Do you think I'm a hallucination?" The voice taunts, a single finger dragging though the hot wax, it must be wax, down my spine to spread around the feeling. "That maybe you don't deserve to be punished?"

"It has to be... This can't be real." Had I been kidnapped from the store? Sold as a slave or a sex toy to someone else?

"You deserve this, Sophia Hess, for what a bitch you've been to everyone." My tormentor steps in front of me, and I lift my head as far as I can to look at her. I can't see much, really. A pale stomach, thin and untoned, shapely legs, and a pair of panties that leave only the sweetest places to the imagination. "Ah ah... I didn't say you could look at me."

A hand tangles in my hair, forcing my head down painfully. "You came here to be punished, Sophia, fow what you've been doing. The truth is, you want to be hurt, to be punished. That's why you act out isn't it? Well don't worry, you'll get what you want here."

"Fuck you." I grind out, once more trying to break free of my bindings. If I pull fast enough, maybe I can get past the electricity. I'm dimly aware of screaming as I come to, slumping against the stone platform. Was that me? Oh god, my body burns, the heat pooling inside me from the attempt. My nerves are raw, responding eagerly to every sensation, from the rough stone to the delicate fingers running across my back.

"You know you can't escape. Just tell me you've been a bad girl, and I'll give you your punishment." The fingers trail across my ribs, cupping my breast in a way that makes me suck in a breath. She's rough, not intimate at all, simply groping and squeezing, pinching and twisting remorselessly at my nipple. "Say it."

"I've..." Can I? Can I admit to this? Just to get out of this situation? What choice do I have? Wait for rescue? The fingers pull sharply on the nipple, and I throw my head back in a silent gasp. She's there in front of me again, that familiar set of hips, those panties... That tantalizing view. "I've been bad."

"I know." The fingers release me, letting my head fall back down. "I know everything you've done, Sophia Hess. But the question is... Do you?" Her hands are more gentle now, stroking across my back, soothing the light burns from the hot wax. "I want you to confess to me. Tell me everything you've done. Tell me your deepest desires."

It's so tempting to lean into that touch, those fingers that were so cruel a moment ago that now trace gentle patterns on my sensitive skin. The pain makes this so much better, so much more real, so much more pleasurable. It isn't like the gentle caresses Emma gives me once in a while, like a timid lover. Or even Madison with her manic passion, frantic and crazed. It didn't make my stomach twist itself into painful knots, reminding me of that night so long ago.

This is the touch of someone strong. Someone in control, who knows exactly what kind of person I am, exactly how much I deserve to be hurt, even as a reward. "I'm a bitch. An angry, violent, unlikable bitch." I confess, my hips arcing up into the touch as her fingers clawed her way lower, across the curve of my ass.

"I know." The hand pulls away, and the cruel sing-song voice sent a thrill down my spine, from my ears to the pool of molten heat around my core. The slap comes out of nowhere, the sound hitting me before the sensation. An echo of flesh on flesh that travels just ahead of the burning sting of humiliation. I transform out of reflex, for a split second, feeling the electricity punish me for trying to run and hide. "Confess properly."

"I'm too violent with criminals." I mumble, wracking my mind for something to confess to. "To rapists. I've nearly killed a few." That's a sin, isn't it? Even if every one of the bastards deserved worse than what I could possibly do to them.

The hand comes down again, and this time even though I know it's coming I can't help myself. I transform, feeling my muscles tense and dance under the brief electric current. It feels... The pain is something exquisite, addictive, cathartic. "Don't lie to me." The voice whispers, a hand grasping my hair and pulling me back. "You don't feel guilt. Confess to me."

"I'm a slut." I choke out, body still trembling. Images of frantic lovemaking fill my mind. "I use people for cheap gratification. I pleasure them for favors, so they'll like me." Those times I pushed Emma down in the bathrooms at school and made her work to appease my anger. Taking Madison against a wall, pinning her as she squirmed in one of her nymphomaniacal frenzies. The lack of real satisfaction in all of those moments.

Another slap, this time the stinging came first, and I barely flinch. My ass is sore, but I can take so much more of this. Compared to what I'd been through, this pain is nothing. The humiliation makes my cheeks feel like they'll burn off, but I can endure. "Do you enjoy this? Do you want me to spank you?" The cool touch is back, soft narrow fingers tracing around the sore skin of my ass. It's gentle in a way I'd never appreciated before. Pleasurable in a way I thought I couldn't feel.

"Yes."

Another slap, and this time I can only shudder, my muscles dancing for another reason entirely. I let a hiss of air out through my mouth, closing my eyes and embracing it. "What else?"

"There's a girl." I choke out, feeling another blow come down on my backside. How much more can I take? I'm strong, but am I strong enough? "I..." I hesitate, and the next slap comes even harder. I cringe, forcing myself to say it. "I want her. So badly I've done terrible things."

"What things?" She knows. That voice from my most terrible dreams knows everything already. All of this is for me, to confess to my own evils. To embraced what a fucked up animal I am, and acknowledge I have no place in proper society.

"I torment her." I admit, feeling the slap take away that pain. "I humiliate her." Another slap, and the pain makes it all better. "I hit her." Another strike.

"Like this?" The voice asks, taunting me by running a finger between one agonizingly bruised cheek and the other, stoking my flames higher by running across my sopping mound.

"No." I choke out the words. "I can't. She's too strong. She won't break." My greatest shame. I'd found someone that wouldn't bow to me. Someone that I can't break down and use, and like a petulant child that makes me covet her even more.

"You want her." Taylor's voice. That's who it is, burning the depravity within me to the surface with her cruel words and crueler actions. It isn't a question, at all. She knows. I know. "What do you want her to do."

"Hit me." She does, the blows come quick and sharp across my ass, my thighs, my back and even my cunt. It stings, but the pain feels wonderful, making my body shake with desire. "Humiliate me." Her knee comes forward, pushing roughly against my sopping wet cunt. I'm such a slut, so ready with desire I think perhaps that whole knobby knee will push inside me. Instead she leans forwards, arching over my back to grasp my nipples roughly.

She pulls and twists, like she's trying to milk me, even as her hands maul at my tits. "You don't deserve this." She hisses in my ear. Oh god I don't. I don't deserve this at all, but it feels so good. "You don't deserve to lick my feet." I want to though. Now that the damn is broken I can't stop the flood. I want to lick her all over, anywhere she orders me to, anytime she wants. Anything to keep this fire in my stomach going.

Anything to feel these touches that don't make me want to die of disgust. "I'm better than you." She whispers, releasing my aching breasts and pushing me down into the altar. "In every way. I'm even more merciful. More generous." She teases, walking around in front of me once more. "I'll let you kiss it, and make it all better."

Those panties. Those sexy panties on those sexy hips. I want them so badly that I strain forwards, even before she pulls them to the side, revealing that bare crotch. My restraints hold me back, inches from my prize. "Go on. Kiss it. If you do, I'll give you a reward." She taunts, and I can hear it in the back of my head. That laughing chorus I've heard so often during school, only now they were mocking me as I supplicate myself to stronger person.

I strain forwards even more, stretching my muscles until they ache, trying to close that last inch to my goal. Desperate, I shift states to try and free myself, to try and accomplish my task. The pain shoots through me, but I struggle onwards for a good three seconds. Three long agonizing seconds, before I collapse, my goal unachieved.

"Whore." Taylor spit down at me, stepping out of my reach as I lay panting, taking ragged breaths. My muscles jerk and spasm, uncontrolled and writhing from the wonderful feelings that came from both the pain and my tormentor's words. I want more. I deserve more. "You're not even fit to punish, are you?"

"No..." I whimper softly, a serene smile on my face. I'd tried so hard to break her that I'd broken myself instead. "Thank you for punishing me."

"You're a bad girl Sophia." The sound comes as a whisper. "You don't deserve even this." Her foot comes down on my crotch, grinding roughly against my lips and clit. I'm so wet that it squishes against me, making humiliating noises as it ground against my flesh. I'm so sensitive, so on edge form all the build up that when her big toe splits me open and her heel grinds against my clit I climax.

Hard.

I scream as it tears through me, the rumbling ball of heat that could match the sun floods out through my limbs, grabbing hold of my sore muscles and pulling them hard. My back arches, my breasts grind into the rough stone, my ass thrusts into the air, begging the world to take me how it likes.

I want so much more of her. I want her to use my cunt as her toy, however she likes. I want her to fuck my ass, humiliating me by forcing me to enjoy it. I want to worship her body, every insult coming from her lips like praise for my depravity. I'm a broken toy, and I want to be her broken toy.

"Lick." My eyes are half-hooded, my lungs are burning, desperate for air, and I don't think I can think past the mixture of sensations flooding my mind. Even so, I eagerly lap at the foot in front of my face. The taste of sweat and my own shame is deliciously foul, and I happily embrace it.


* * *

-Emma—

Something's wrong. I knew I shouldn't have left Sophia alone in that machine, it always seems a bit intense the first time, but she's stronger than me, she can handle it, right? But when she came out... I could see how she walked, how she moved. The soreness in her muscles that rivaled recovery from her worst nights as a hero. She winced with every step she took and every move she made.

But that smile... That wasn't right. It didn't look right on her face at all. It was too happy, too carefree. Too relaxed. Sophia didn't relax. Ever. This worried me.

It worried me enough that I wondered if she was going to do something to me, even as she moved past me to use the shower. Even as I watched her, my eyes averting a bit too slowly when she turned to catch me. Even as she smiled knowingly.

It wasn't right, it was different, and I feared for my place in the world. She'd done this before, grown bored of me, and made me do something 'different' to keep her attention. Sure, I'd wound up enjoying such things, but how long could that keep up?

What had she seen in that simulation, that had made her so happy? So relaxed? What did it mean for my place in her life? Judging by her attitude it had to be life-changing.

But this was Sophia. She'd changed my life a dozen times already, and each time was for the best. If she led me into something new, I'd happily follow her, wherever this path wound up taking us.

Turning back to my bag of purchases, I blushed softly. That had been an interesting way of spending an hour. Not an entirely unpleasant one either. Hopefully with these I could continue to satisfy my friend. Friends, really, I was certainly going to share with Madison. I just hope she wouldn't wear them out as quickly as she had the more mundane toys.

"Hmm?" I snapped out of my trance, noticing Sophia had dressed and was talking to Eros. "I don't think I've made anything like that before. Not much call for it really... I could certainly put in a custom order for a set though."

"Please do." Sophia smiled, and I felt a thrill at that. It wasn't the predatory smile I was used to. There was an eagerness there I'd never seen before. I sort of pitied whoever she'd set her sights on.


* * *

-Missy—

My heart is racing. The adrenaline I'd come to love from fighting crime (from a safe distance) was nothing compared to the nerve-wracking rush I receive just from walking into the store. My hands are trembling, and I feel like I may fall over with every step.

Come on Missy, you're a big girl, you can do this. Despite my own mental words of encouragement, my face is positively luminescent under the privacy mask I 'm wearing, and I can feel my bangs start to stick to my forehead.

"Hi!" My heart lurches up into my throat, and it seems to constrict me until I can't speak. Stifling a gasp, I turn around to face my... Attacker? A girl my age, maybe, perhaps a bit younger. "You're new... Hey, are you into being a loli too?"

"A... What?" I blink, trying to figure out what the heck she's talking about. She's kind of cute, Asian I think, with luxuriously long black hair and pale skin. The dress she's wearing makes her look gut-wrenchingly adorable, in a way I could probably pull off if I wanted to look like a kid.

"You used the machine, right? To reduce your age?" She presses. "Oh, where are my manners, I'm Hanabi." Suddenly my hand is grasped and being vigorously shook. "So anyways, isn't this the best thing ever? I mean, I've been trying for months to get my boss into me, you know? I tried everything from well... I tried everything." Her eyebrows wiggle, and she stifles a small giggle.

I give an awkward laugh in response, but the girl just keeps going. "This was all supposed to be a joke, you know? Bit of a prank between tinkers, you know how it is. But oh man does this body drive him nuts! I'm working on a way to stay like this long term at the moment."

"I'm... Uh... I'm Missy." I reply numbly. She's not really that young? She actually wants to be that small and... Underdeveloped? People are into that?

I mean, I guess if she's really old then there's no psychological or emotional damage. Not that capes have any shortage of that already. Fuck, why can't Dean be like her boss. "Great to meet you Missy. Are you looking for anything special? I'm a good friend of Eros, so I know the shop like the back of my hand." She snickers. "So come on, spill, are you looking for a bit of personal fun or are you trying to seduce someone?"

"Ah..." What was I doing here? I mean, if it was possible to seduce Dean... "Probably the former." I admit with a sigh.

"Oh no, I know that sigh." Hanabi smirks. "You don't get to give up that easily. If I can get Kenta to unleash the beast," She leans forwards and stage whispers. "And what a beast it is. You can get whatever man, or woman, is neglecting you."

"I don't know... He's dating someone, and she's a bombshell. Unless you can give me double d's..."

Hanabi snorts, giggling like a schoolgirl. "On you? You'd fall over and wouldn't be able to get up." She hesitates, her eyes going dim for a moment. "Now there's a thought. Incapacitating some do-gooders by making them so top heavy they bend over? Oh, I've got to write that down." She reaches into the basket on her arm, pulling out a stack of note paper and a pencil. Underneath are... Grenades?

"Right, well... I'm not sure he'll ever be interested in little old me." I sigh, falling back into my own self pity.

"Ah, there's your problem." Hanabi snaps up, grabbing my arm. "The trick to landing a man, any man worth your while, is simple. Repeat after me. 'I am awesome.'"

"Um... I am awesome?"

"No no, you've got to mean it. Seriously. Think of all your most badass moments. The coolest stuff you've ever done, the kind you think about and go 'damn it's good being me'. Draw them all up, like you're going to cast a patronus of awesome."

"A what?" I blink. "Is that... From some kind of anime?"

"What? That's racist!" She hits me lightly on the arm. "Though, I should probably show you Gurren Laggan, but that's mostly for guys... Anyways, you need to draw up all that inner awesome that makes you so wonderful."

"That sounds like narcissism." I deadpan.

"It's not narcissism if it's true." She shoots back. "Try it."

"Alright." I take a moment, and a few deep breaths, and dredge up a few positive memories. "I am awesome." I say with a bit more confidence.

"Needs more work. Be sure to practice regularly." Hanabi states firmly. "Anyways, step two. If you're awesome, what kind of guy do you deserve?"

"An... Awesome one?" I get a nod in response.

"And if a guy doesn't realize you're awesome, what is he?"

"Not awesome?"

"An idiot." She states firmly. "Do you really want to date an idiot? I mean, some idiots are hot, so you can wrangle them in and let them fuck you senseless, but in the long run..."

"Anyone who doesn't realize how awesome I am isn't worth my time." I finish for her. "But Dean is..."

"Then you need to wake him up." She states simply. "First though, you need to work on your self confidence. When's the last time you had an orgasm?"

"W-what?" I squeak, blinking at the sudden change of direction.

"I mean a real one. The kind that makes you see fireworks, and causes your toes to curl like bacon in a frying pan? One of those?" She pushes.

Shit. I'd had those before, I know it, but... Well, they were few and far between. "Uh..."

"Right, this is worse than I thought." She states seriously. "Eros! We have an emergency!"

I'm rather surprised when the store owner comes out of the back room. She doesn't look old at all, really, with only a few curves on her rather toned body. That, and she looks only half dressed. Her hair is a mess, and she's wiping something off her hands and onto a rag on her belt. "Hey, Hanabi, what's up?"

"This is Missy, she hasn't had a real orgasm in like, forever." I pout a bit at that, it hasn't been that long.

"No shit?" Eros raises an eyebrow at me. Of course, she knows I'm not supposed to be here. Despite what Hanabi thinks, I am certainly not old enough. "Well then... Let's get started. Any kinks? Fetishes? Unusual masturbation habits we should be aware of?"

"W-what? N-no I'm-"

"Don't say normal." Eros interrupts. "There's no such thing. Everyone's got something, multiple somethings usually, we just need to find out what your thing is."

"Right... I'm really just trying to get a boy's attention." I state honestly. "He doesn't see me as anything but..."

"Hmm, clothing then? We have a few good outfits near the back. A lot of it is cosplay, costumes and stuff, but we can probably make something work." Really? I didn't come here for clothing. I don't even know what I really came here for. Something to prove I'm not a kid, I guess.

"Here we are." She brings me over to a rather spacious area filled with clothing racks. "All of it's spider silk. Incredibly durable, bullet proof actually, as well as water and stain resistant. A few local parahumans do most of the work for me, the pay's pretty good, and totally worth it for the quality."

Oh god, they have my costume here. It's right there on the rack, staring at me. Why the hell does a sex toy store have my costume? And why does it look like it's even better quality than mine? "So what should I get?"

"Panties, at least." Hanabi pipes up. "Trust me, this silk? It's heavenly. Slick enough that you just can't quite get enough friction rubbing yourself through it. It'll drive you insane."

"Isn't that a bad thing?" I frown, looking at the rather sheer-looking fabric.

"Oh god no, it's all about the build-up. You've got to put a lot of time and effort into it, letting it all coalesce before BOOM! Mindblowing." She makes the hand gestures of explosions going off, and gives a few sound effects as well.

I tried to stay focused as they picked out items for me. Eros seemed to be a big fan of spandex, claiming that tube tops and bike shorts get all of the right attention. Hanabi was more preferential towards skirts and bloomers, claiming I had a perfect 'loli-butt'.

"I really don't know... Shouldn't I be going for something more adult?" I frown at the pile of clothing. "Like, black dress and heels?"

"Oh no." Eros waves off my concerns. "Doing something like that makes you seem immature. Hanabi's right, you've got to seem confident. That's what really separates the women from the girls, being comfortable with who you are. It's why we're not covering up your bust."

She hands me a shirt, a rather plain cut that was barely my size. It's not surprising they don't have a lot that will fit me. The cut is feminine, but not designed to really accentuate my breasts, or lack thereof. If anything, it sort of smoothes over that feature, letting me look pretty regardless. "That's a big hit among traps." Hanabi smiles. "Oh! God that would be so hot. Hey, Eros, can we make Missy a trap? Pretty please?"

Something about the way she said that gave me the chills. Were those really bombs in her basket? "Not unless she asks for it." Eros replied patiently. "Though... She would be cute that way. Anyways, try this all on."

I grab the bundle of clothing, looking around for a changing room. "Come on, no need for that, this'll save time. Quickly now, and we can move on to selecting toys." Blushing, I force down my shame and begin to unbutton my shirt. It's ruffled, to hide my lack of maturity, which apparently has been part of the problem. It hits the floor momentarily, leaving me in my training bra.

"You don't have anything like inflatable bras? Cream that makes them grow quicker? Anything?" I pout, taking off the childish underwear. I wouldn't even wear it at all if not for how freaking pointy my nipples tended to get.

Cold fingers touch my chest and I jump, feeling Hanabi push herself against my back. "Why would you want to?" She teases, running the very tips of her fingers gently across every inch of exposed skin. "These look lovely, you're already getting some softness to them you know." Her breath is warm against my ear as she speaks, and I feel... Distinctly flustered.

I don't like girls, but damn does that feel good.

Ignoring her for the moment, I pop open the button of my pants, easily shimmying out of them and my plain cotton panties. No sense being shy while a near stranger is molesting me. Part of me cringes at the girlish squeak I let out when Hanabi pinches one of my nipples. "Careful, they're sensitive."

"Oh! Even better. I bet you love having them sucked." She teases. I wouldn't know.

Right, changing, got to get changed. The spider silk panties go on first, and Hanabi is completely correct. They feel deliciously soft, almost heavenly against my skin. I give a surreptitious rub, feeling only the pressure of contact and none of the friction. Hanabi must have noticed my shudder because she gives a small giggle and a chaste kiss on my neck, just behind my ear.

"Come one then." She teases, helping me throw the rest of my outfit on. The bike shorts come on first, tight but comfortable, and just long enough that they poke out an inch or so beneath the rather short skirt that goes over top. Short enough to be attractive, but the undershorts keep it from being indecent. Sort of. I imagine the view of my crotch in spandex shorts is probably good enough for some people.

"What now?" I ask, as I pull the shirt on braless. I can see the faintest outline of my nipples, but I can deal with that.

"You wanted toys, right? Anything in particular? I figure you may want to start off with a dildo or vibrator." Eros explains, dragging me over to a set of shelves. Good god she's got a lot of selection. Most of it looks custom made, each model different than the last. A small part of my brain wonders if she's tested every single one.

"A... A dildo I think." I've never done it before, but the practice couldn't hurt, right?

"Alright then... Any preferences for size? Something small might-"

"No!" I flinch at how loud my outburst was. "I mean... Uh, give me something big. I can take it." If I want people to stop treating me like a kid...

"Oh, I like her." Hanabi giggles. "Hmm... None of these are quite as big as Kenta. Do you have anything bigger?"

My eyes widen at that. These things seem huge! How big could this 'Kenta' possibly be? "We do." Dread pools in my stomach. "But they're all custom order."

Oh thank god. "How about... This-"

"This one!" God damn it Hanabi, I just met you and you're going to get me killed! She hoists one off the shelf that looks about as long and thick as my forearm. "What do you think?"

"That one actually comes with a special lubricant. It prevents any... Permanent damage due to stretching. You should probably go slow, but-"

"S-sure." I smile weakly, looking on in horror at the monstrous thing. Maybe I can use my powers to shrink it down? Make it more manageable? "That looks... Fun."


* * *

The bill came out to more than I would have liked. Apparently the ginormous dong I was roped into buying has a dozen features to it that I'm not immediately interested in. The only good part is that it apparently generates its own lubricant, once switched on. Nifty, but not enough to distract from how freaking intimidating it is.

Using my powers I stuffed it into my purse the moment I was out of the shop, and then promptly put it out of my mind. I had other stuff to do today, and a part of me just wanted to put it away and forget about it as a very expensive mistake.

So I did, for most of the day, until I went into the PRT headquarters for work.

"Hey everyone." I smiled, stepping into the lounge area. Remembering what Hanabi said, I paid no extra attention to Dean. Her advice had been rather simple. 'Pretend he's not important, unless he pays attention to you, or compliments you. Then he gets the smiles and hugs. Got to reward good behavior.' I wasn't sure it'd work on Dean, given his ability to detect emotions, but it was worth a shot.

"What's with the new outfit tiny-tits?" Oh god damn it, fuck off Sophiaaaaah? She's smiling? And not the, 'I'm going to fuck your day up' smile either. It's one of those smiles I tend to wear after getting a 'good job' hug from Gallant. What happened to her?

"What the hell happened to you, Sophia?" Dennis saves me the trouble of asking, staring at the girl like she's grown another head. Sophia doesn't even snap at him, or even offer an insult, instead just sort of bouncing with positive energy. "You look like you're in love or something." He pauses. "Or got laid."

The next few minutes involve me smacking Dennis over the back of the head while Chris tries to clear the soda out of his nose. "Alright, settle down." Aegis and Gallant come in a moment later in full costume. I notice Gallant glance in my direction, and I smile softly but don't react otherwise. If he wants to come compliment me, that's fine too.

"Shadow Stalker, you're with Gallant tonight." Don't pout Missy, don't pout. I spare a look at Sophia, who rolls her eyes at me. Yeah, no competition there at least.

"I'm with Kid Win. Has anyone seen Browbeat?" Aegis continues.

"Home with a sick mum." Chris reports.

"Right. Clockblocker, your suspension-" Dennis perks up briefly. "Continues. You're on dispatch. Vista, sorry but with Browbeat out it looks like you're on reserve. Just hang out here until someone calls for you."

I sag a bit at that, trying not to look too put out. Surprisingly it's Sophia that comes over to me first. "Hey, don't get too down. I'd swap with you in a heart-beat, but them's the breaks."

"Yeah yeah. Try not to enjoy yourself too much." I grumble.

"The opposite to you kid." She teases back, heading into the changing areas. I'm not sure what to think about this Sophia.

A few hours into patrol and I'm bored out of my mind. I can't stop thinking about what's going on out there. Gallant beating up thugs, muscles flexing, adrenaline pumping... Dashing in to rescue a distressed Shadow Stalker under the pale streetlights. Or hitting her with one of his beams and driving her into a passionate frenzy.

"Gah!" I shake the mental image out of my mind, knowing it's completely absurd. Gallant's powers don't really work that way, do they? "Hey Dennis, I'll be in the spare room, if you need me." I really hope he doesn't.

Shutting and locking the door behind me, I fish around in my purse for the item in question. It's rather small in its compressed form, almost tame for a sex toy. Almost. It still looks like it could split me open.

Holding it up, I inspect the level of detail on it. Is this what Dean's would look like? Running my fingers along the smooth length, it's warm and kind of soothing to trace the fake vein the runs along the underside.

Should I?

I give the tip a lick, just a flick with my light pink tongue. It doesn't taste like anything, really, which isn't a surprise. I've never given a blowjob, but I've thought about it a lot. Guys love it, I've heard, and it seems like it would be fun to do. The sounds they'd make as they enjoyed my body, the level of control it'd give me over their passion.

Before I know it, I've got almost half the thing's shrunken size in my mouth. It's not an easy fit, and once again I'm a bit frustrated at my small size and stature. Finding the switch on the back of the toy is simple, and flipping it causes the toy to heat up and take on an almost sweet flavor. I'm not sure the lube is edible, but it must be to taste this good.

I push further, and the tip of the toy touches the back of my throat. It's times like this I wish my powers worked around people, and I could just make my mouth as big as I needed. Taking a deep breath I push forwards again, feeling the thicker head actually pop into my throat. My eyes water as I struggle not to gag, forcing down the reflex as I adjust to the new sensation.

It feels... wonderful, and I immediately want more. The toy slides forwards, and I shudder, free hand balling in the covers of the bed as I squirm uselessly in place. It's deep, sliding down into my throat until my lips bump against the thicker base. I'm doing it, I'm deep throating a cock like a slut. Better than most 'big girls' could.

Can Vicky do something like this? I mentally taunt, feeling a ping of euphoria at the thought. I can probably go bigger.

I pull off of it, sucking in a deep breath as I kiss and lick at the shaft, feeling my arousal spike as I let some of my control go, allowing the shaft to thicken and lengthen until it's nearly nine inches long. Where before I was intimidated, now it looks almost delicious. My head rocks forwards again as my hand holds it in place, and I feel the much thicker head bump against my throat in a eye-watering way.

My free hand shoves itself into my tight shorts, and I spare a momentary thought at how convenient they are. Fingers find my crotch, above my new silk panties, and begin to rub in slow sensuous motions. I must be soaked, but the panties trap the water slick against my skin. The lack of friction is as deliciously aggravating as Hanabi described.

The head pops into my throat and I lose myself once more to the sensation of fullness as my throat relaxes and expands. I wish I could see it, to know if my neck was bulging out obscenely, would that be attractive? Would that make Dean spill his load down my throat?

How much would he shoot, I wonder. Would it be a bellyful? Maybe when he's on the outs with Vicky, he'd spill a whole week's worth of pent up lust inside me, and I'd take it with a smile. I shudder as the fake cock cuts off my air, and hold my breath until my eyes roll back.

The noises it makes when I pull it free of my throat are nothing but lewd, the wet gurgle and pop as I heave great lungfuls of air into my modestly endowed chest. I throw the cock to the side, hoisting up my shirt to maul at my nipples with my free hand, even as I continue to molest my tight little slit.

I want it inside me.

Rolling over, I climb up to my knees and pick up the slobber covered toy, shrinking it down to a more reasonable size. My shorts come down to my knees, and with them my panties, practically dripping with my own shameful arousal. If anyone walked in right now, and saw me kneeling here, nude from the waist down, dripping and wanting and oh so tempting...

Hanabi was right, this feels amazing. This confidence that I am sexy, and attractive... I lower myself down, sliding the tip of the toy into my waiting snatch. It pushes in easily enough, for the first inch or so. Beyond that it's a struggle, but one I'm determined to win.

There's nothing to obstruct the path, being a super hero is enough to have removed that issue a long time ago, but I'm still young and tight. Probably wonderfully so. Still, I push on, slowly lowering myself down onto the toy as I stifle a moan.

My hands reach up to my breasts, rubbing and pinching at my nipples as I rock back and forth on the toy below me, inch by inch it slowly slides further in, reaching deeper and deeper until at last it finally bottoms out.

It's not enough, though. I can take more, I'm certain of it. Realistically, I know it's unlikely I'd ever have to take more than this, but it feels so good. The stretching feeling, the way it bumps against places my fingers could never reach. I want it thicker, I want it longer, I want to shove the whole thing inside of me if I can.

I slowly relax my powers, feeling the toy begin to shift and grow little by little towards its original size. The ache of being stretched open is wonderful, a slow sort of pleasure that sends shots of lightning up my spine. I let out a low throaty moan, a big difference from the usual girlish squeak I'm used to hearing whenever I'd tweak my own nipples or pinch at my clit.

As the cock nears the nine inch mark I begin to lose my focus, my hips bucking and grinding wildly against the toy as it fills me more than I ever thought it could. It's wonderful and all encompassing. My hair must be a mess, the light makeup I'd applied must be running all over my face from the sweet tears I've shed. I'm drooling, I know it, but I cannot stop.

I lean forwards, catching the edge of the toy against the bed and bucking my hips against it, fucking myself roughly on the toy as I grasp the covers for dear life. My narrow hips bounce up and down, me 'loli-butt' as Hanabi put it, on full display as I take a cock far too big for a girl my size. Trembling, I bite down hard on the covers as it finally hits me.

A climax unlike any I'd ever experienced in my life washes over me. My vision fades for a moment as I black out, my muscles seizing like I've been struck by lightning, and my toes curl with such intensity I fear they'll fall off.

All the while my mind is awash in pleasure as I clamp down hard on the toy inside me. I can think of nothing else, simply imagining being filled up by load after load of cum until I bloat out like— The train of thought derails as I lose control of my powers for a brief moment. One moment I'm enjoying the best orgasm of my life, and the next the toy expands almost instantaneously to its full size.

I squeak. I'll admit it, it's the kind of shriek a young girl makes upon spotting a spider. There's not enough air in my lungs for anything else, and the sudden intrusive mass inside me makes it feel as if there never will be. There simply cannot be any room in my body for anything that isn't cock.

And aside from the painful bloating feeling, and the sudden surprise of it all, it... Doesn't feel bad.

I roll over, flopping onto my back as I glance down at the gut-wrenching sight. The toy, as thick around as my forearm, sticks out of my sore red cunt for only a few inches at its thickest base. The rest, the entire massive thing, is crammed in me in a way I seriously doubt I'll ever be able to remove. It bulges my stomach out, enough that I can make out the outline, and I can almost feel the small trickle of my arousal flowing out between our terrible and beautiful junction.

I'm in shock at the sight, watching in a daze as I squeeze and shift my muscles against the intrusion and the lump almost dances under my skin. Reaching down, almost in a trance, I run a finger over the bump. It feels... Sexy. It's probably the lube's fault, but I feel so proud at being able to accomplish it.

My powers won't work to shrink it, not in such close proximity to my own body, so I'll have to pull it free manually. A soft tug at the base proves to me how difficult that will be as it barely budges, but sends a thrill of pleasure through my body. My eyes cross as I lay back, idly running a finger around my clit. "Well... I do have a few hours to kill."

My Life As A Sex Toy Tinker — OMAKE

(Автор: Ziel)

"D' you.... I— uh... do you know anything about carpentry, Eros?" Victoria said, blushing uncharacteristically.

"Carpentry?" Eros raised an eyebrow. "Like, sex-related carpentry?"

"Well..." Victoria hesitated before looking over at Dean.

Her paramour stood to one side, leaning against a glass case full of Triumvirate-themed dildos. Even at a glance, the bandages swaddling his lower half were plain to see.

"I may have... broken the bed." Victoria said.

Eros looked back at Dean. He shifted as she looked at him, looking distinctly bow-legged. She turned back to Victoria, the blonde girl still blushing.

"Miss Dallon," Eros said, putting on her best saleswoman's smile, "Have you ever heard the old story about 'Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex?'"

Victoria shook her head. Eros didn't falter.

"That's alright then. I've got some literature for you to read while I discuss some... marital aids for your beau."

She sent the New Wave scion off with a copy of Sara Waite's Little Purple Book and a wave. Dean Stanfield was waiting patiently by the case when she approached. Or at least, he looked patient. He might just be too sore to move.

"So, Dean," Eros said sunnily. "I think I might be able to interest you in my own special brand of condoms." She leaned in conspiratorially. "They're personally tested to withstand up to 15,000 PSI! And a core temperature exceeding 3000 degrees Fahrenheit!" She paused. "Though... that would probably still incinerate you. Hanabi might want those... but... yeah, these babies come with a special impact resistant lube. Helps you avoid problems like... this."

When she pulled the little box of prophylactics off the shelf for him, Dean Stanfield actually wept.

Broken Bird In A Rusted Cage

(Автор: tomio)

"It's decided then. To Brockton Bay we go." Jack said, asserting his authority as the leader again. Crawler grunted in assent. Burnscar nodded shyly. Bonesaw was sitting in his neck, not really paying attention to whatever was going on. She'd wanted to go as well, to meet Panacea. Siberian, as always, remained silent and unreadable as ever. She barely nodded, assenting to his plan. Mannequin scratched his approval in the floor with a scratch.

Cherish, their newest addition, had actually proposed it. She wanted to 'say hi to her little brother'. Jack wouldn't know how that felt, having a brother. He had known, once, but in the end, they parted ways. Not exactly amicably, but he'd grown over the resentment during the years Harbinger had been gone.

Last, there was Shatterbird. She always went along with his plans, in an attempt to gain his attention. Oh, he knew about the crush she had on him. But her education and upbringing made that nearly impossible. He enjoyed seeing her squirm, knowingly going along with her, only to deny her his interest moments later.

Crawler crawled, by lack of better word, into the back of the truck, along with Mannequin and his tools. Shatterbird sat next to him. Cherish was lying on the back seat, letting Bonesaw braid her hair, while the Siberian was just sitting there, motionless. Burnscar, too, was sitting in the backseat, obviously scared of the other three.

Shatterbird, as usual, looked like she wanted to say something.

Jack was faster. "I'm thinking of watching a movie tonight." he said.

"Really Jack? Can I watch?" Bonesaw perked up, causing one of Cherish' braids to become partially undone.

"Sorry Bonesaw, it'll be past your bedtime by then. And a good girl..." Jack answered.

"Always goes to sleep at her bedtime." Bonesaw finished, still sounding as happy as usual. He knew he'd have to make it up to her. Preferably soon.

"Tell you what, you get to choose tomorrow's dinner! We can have pizza or we can go eat out!" he said, and Riley's smile became just the slightest bit brighter.

"Yay!" she yelled. Predictably, she chose the pizza.

"I too, would like to watch a movie." Shatterbird said, in a surprisingly bold move.

"I'll stay out of the way of you two lovebirds." Cherish said, grinning at Jack. If only she knew.

Shatterbird blushed, averting her eyes from Jack.

Burnscar mumbled something. It wasn't important.


* * *

That night, they stopped at a cheap motel. Riley, Jack and Shatterbird had gone in first, then the Siberian and Mannequin had gone into random rooms, killing as many occupants as possible before they were found out. When they were finally detected, Shatterbird and Crawler finished the job.

Bonesaw was hands deep in one of her patients as they finally ate. The cook was surprisingly good at his job, despite his near-certain death. Maybe that caused it, people always seemed to live to the fullest when they were certain they were going to die in the future.

He entertained the thought of letting the cook live. It would be different than usual. Yes, that would be exactly what they'd do.

"Siberian, Crawler, spare the cook." he said. The Siberian looked at the cook's assistant, a girl of about 25 years of age, with her black hair up in a bun. Jack was almost certain that she was the cook's girlfriend. FiancИe, even, if he identified the rings right. "I never said anything about the girl."

With a scream, the cook's assistant died. It was a messy end, and the cook had fainted from shock. Not a trigger, that would have knocked them out too.

"So, what movie are the lovebirds going to watch?" Cherish brought his mind back to dinner. A finely cooked steak indeed. He sliced it up, without the knife even touching the meat.

"Probably something light-hearted. Texas Chainsaw Massacre, maybe." he replied. He knew Shatterbird didn't enjoy horror movies, even though they usually lived like one. He also knew that without explicitly denying that he and Shatterbird were 'lovebirds', she'd see it as a chance to be with him.

"Interesting. You ever tried if your power works on a chainsaw?" Cherish asked, snacking on a piece of... Broccoli? Interesting.

"I have." he replied. "It didn't work."

"That's unfortunate." Cherish replied, and the dinner resumed in silence. Some time later, it was but me, Bonesaw, Shatterbird and Cherish sitting at the table. I noticed it was five before nine.

"Bonesaw, it's time for you to go to bed." I said, pointing at the clock.

"Alright Uncle Jack! Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?" she said, skipping to one of the empty rooms.

With a smile, he stood up, leaving Shatterbird and Cherish alone for a moment.


* * *

"And that's how we lost Psychosoma." He finished.

"Thanks Uncle Jack." Bonesaw whispered. He kissed her on the forehead, and returned to the table.

He saw Cherish with the biggest grin he'd ever seen her with, and Shatterbird was blushing so hard you could barely make out her original skin color. Even an idiot would have noticed, and could have deduced what happened.

He played ignorant. "So, shall we watch a movie then?" he asked.

Shatterbird merely nodded.

"Not me, I'm gonna go to a nearby club. Gonna try and start an orgy again. Apparently, it's harder than just turning lust up to eleven... That time was fun, though." she said. He was tempted to join her, for the simple reason that the next morning, people would realize they'd been fucked by Jack Slash. Literally. That would have to cause quite some trauma, and at least more than one frontpage article.

But no, he'd decided keeping Shatterbird meek was a better course of action.

"Go right ahead." he said.

A few minutes later, Shatterbird had sat down next to him. They'd decided on some awfully clichИed horror movie, with an extremely forgettable title.

He put his arm around Shatterbird, startling her, only to take it back as he took the popcorn. He put it between them, and when was taking a bit of popcorn, he put his hand in there with hers. He pretended he didn't notice, but both of them knew he did.

After about half the movie, he actually put his arm around her. This was what he usually did. After one of the million badly executed jumpscares, Shatterbird was holding him tightly. This too, was par for the course.

Then, a horrible thought entered his mind. Horrible indeed, even for him.

He copped a feel.

He hadn't done this before, and it startled Shatterbird. She looked at him in confusion, and he brought his own face closer. The glass that made up her mask parted to reveal her lips.

Holding his left hand to her glass-covered right cheek, he kissed Shatterbird. Shatterbird reciprocated it in kind, and soon, they were lying down on the couch, making out like they were a teenaged couple.

When the movie had ended for about half an hour, he lead Shatterbird to an empty room, making out all the way. Once inside, he quickly undid her jeans, and she fumbled with his belt buckle. By the time he'd undid her bra, she almost had it.

He helped her out, undoing it with practiced ease. He kissed Shatterbird again, pushing her against the wall. She could feel his erect dick on the inside of her thigh.

She bit her lower lip in an attempt to stay quiet, but a small moan escaped from her mouth. Jack's right hand started fondling her left breast, and kissed her neck. She couldn't hold back, and didn't hold back her moans.

Her moans loudened as Jack's kisses went lower and lower, until he finally reached her clit. She was already gushing by the time he'd reached it, and almost came from his first kiss alone. When Jack put in one of his fingers, she climaxed, feeling the insides of her sex pulsate around Jack's finger.

When she was done climaxing, she saw Jack had undone his boxers. He slowly dragged his fully-erect cock over her already wet slit, and she knew what was going to happen. Her mother had taught her that the first time would hurt, but she had to endure it.

Jack was surprisingly gentle, yet it still hurt. Jack slowly put his entire length inside of her, and slowly went back and forth. Over time, it went faster and faster. At his fastest, she came again, and she felt him cum inside of her.

Shatterbird felt Jack disentangle himself from her, and she grabbed his hand, hoping to pull him into the bed. She thought nothing of him pulling himself loose, and fell asleep while he was still in the bathroom, taking a shower.


* * *

Shatterbird noticed something was wrong when she woke up the next morning. She turned around, to awaken Jack with a kiss, only to notice he wasn't there.

She dressed herself and left the room, finding Jack as he was taking a few bread rolls from the pantry in the kitchen. The cook had already ran away, it seemed. Or the Siberian had taken care of him. Either way, he wouldn't be a problem anymore.

"Jack..." she began, "about last night."

"What about it?" he said, taking a bite out of a croissant.

"It... It was good, right?" she said, hoping for his approval.

"It was great!" he said, "Don't you think so too, Cherish?"

Her eyes widened as a familiar girl sporting a grin on her face appeared from inside the pantry, throwing a bread roll at Jack. "It was. You should've been there Birdie, these guys just willingly walked into this huge bonfire they'd set up for a party. Just because Jack told them it'd feel good! Oh, and the orgy, that was just awesome. I grew up with Heartbreaker, and I never even knew there could be so many positions in sex!"

Shatterbird became more and more distraught, asking herself if she had imagined last night. She excused herself and walked off.

"Jack," Cherish began, "Are you sure you're not my dad with a goatee? That was cold, even by my standards."

"Oh, Cherie, you haven't seen a tenth of it." he replied. "Now, hand me that ham over there, that'd go great with the cheese we already have."

Rachel's Recruitment?

(Автор: CptTagon)

I come through the glass door of the convenience store, Brutus, Judas, and Angelica trailing behind me. The Asian clerk looks up from his magazine, his face paling as he sees me and my dogs. Otherwise, the store is empty, just the ugly white lighting reflecting off the tile floor.

"Judas, guard." I'd run out of food and water this morning, and had to wait until dark to get some more. It was always a risk doing this, but hanging around the back alleys looking for scraps was an even worse gamble. I grab one of the red baskets and head back to the food, looking for cans and bottles. Brutus and Angelica follow me, their hulking forms the size of shopping carts, while Judas sits and stares at the clerk. He's shaking, his eyes wide, means he recognizes me. Good. There's no room to mess up fear unlike smiles.

I sweep food into the basket and my backpack, keeping an eye on the dogs for warning signs of a siren. Nothing happens by the time I get all the food, water, and medicine I want, so I don't need to hurt the clerk for calling the cops. Before leaving, I hit the cash register, and scoop out the tray, pouring into my backpack. That will be good for the stuff that's kept behind locked cabinet doors.

Whistling for Judas, I leave the shop, my dogs on my heels. I only arrived in this city recently, so it takes me a bit to find the building I left the rest of my dogs in. The docks may smell like dead fish, but at least there's no one else left on the entire block. As I walk up to the door, I smile as the dogs start barking as they smell me. They may not be trained enough to be let out on the hunt, but they still love me. My smile turns into a scowl as I get closer to the door. There's a sheet of paper nailed to it. There is a drawing of a dog's head at the top, with writing underneath. Snarling, I rip the paper down, ball it up, and throw it away. Some bastards must have figured out I was here. Time to leave then, find somewhere on the other edge of town to hole up in.

Walking in, I whistle up the dogs and get them ready to go. It only takes a moment to grab my stuff, another jacket, some medicine for the dogs, and a few other things. I also take the time to buff Judas up. It will be a long ride, probably.

As the pack leaves the warehouse, the smaller dogs in front come to a halt. There's a man standing ten yards down the street. He has black leather clothing, with a skull painted onto his motorcycle helmet. There's black smoke coming off him. Why didn't any of them smell or hear him? I kick Judas's sides, and he bulls through the pack. The man raises his hands, level with his head.

"Whoa, not looking for a fight here. I want to talk with you."

"Fuck off, I'm not interested. Beat it." Is this the fucker who put that letter on the door? Can't let him follow me. That smoke might mean he's a teleporter.

"Listen, Bitch, my name's Grue and-" Fucking bastard, doesn't want to listen, huh?

"I said, fuck off! Judas, attack!" Brutus goes leaping forward up the street, howling deeply enough that I can feel him in my chest, while Brutus and Angelica keep the rest of the pack back. When we're about ten yards away, the skull-faced bastard raises his hands, and oily smoke comes pouring out of his frame. I can't stop Judas in time, and we come barreling into the cloud.

Judas slows to a halt once we're inside. It's damn weird, I can't see my hand, can't smell Judas's scent of blood and sick/sweet meat, and I can barely hear my own breathing. The reflexive breath I take before clamping my mouth shut doesn't make me cough or choke, but there's no reason to see if it works slow. I spur Judas onwards, but before he really starts moving, he flinches to the side, there's a burst of movement coming out of the cloud to my left, and then I'm seeing stars.

I fall of Judas, with a heavy weight landing on top of me, driving my breath out of my lungs. That damned biker blindsided me and knocked me off! I push up, and he rolls off me, and the smoke starts to dispel. I try and climb to my feet, but he kicks me in the stomach with his boot. The breath is driven out of me in a whoomph, and he gets behind me, and puts me in a chokehold with my face maybe six inches above the curb. He doesn't cut off my air, but it wouldn't take much for him to do it. I see Judas turn around and start snarling. I try and throw him off, but he weighs more than me, and that leather would turn the knife on my belt at least enough for him to hit my head against the pavement.

"Bitch, I want you on my team! I'm willing to pay you good money!" That gets my attention. It's a rare week when I have more than a hundred dollars or so. No reason for him to lie when he's holding all the cards.

"You attacked me and my dogs," I snarl. "You hang shit on my door. What makes you think I want to work with you?" It would be easier if he can't give me a good answer. Just have my pack savage him and leave. Won't have to really decide anything.

"My darkness doesn't hurt anything. Your dogs would be fine if they go in. And I put that letter on the door so you would know to expect me. Listen, I'm willing to give you two thousand dollars if you join. You'll get more when we do jobs," Cocksucker, thinks that he has all the answers. And what kind of name is "Grue" anyway? Still, two thousand would let me take care of a lot more dogs. Let me get stuff I can't just take. Can't give in too easy, though.

"Let me up. And take off your mask. I want to see what I'm working with." He hesitates for a minute, but he lets me go, grabbing my knife as he does so. He quickly shifts around to put me in between him and my pack, but then he reaches up, and unhooks his helmet. He's just some black guy, my age about, with some stupid-looking hair.

Looking him in the eyes, he doesn't flinch or look away, just stares right back at me. Well, fair enough, if he's the one in charge.

"So, what's this group called?"

Swarm Mother

(Автор: Gideon020)

Prologue: The Eye Of The Storm

Foolish. They were all fools. They opposed the Swarm, unknowing of the true reason, but they opposed because they resisted extinction, they resisted death.

Commendable, but still foolish. Its gambit was complete, it had won a victory over the one that sought to control it's Swarm. But there was still...possibilities. Chances for the gambit to fail, for the plan to come undone and usher in the end of all things. As they intended. It could see the war to come, the moments where the one it had created from the flesh of another, its Queen Of Blades, would die.

Unacceptable. It cast its sight across space and time, into the vagaries of Hyperspace and observed for any place beyond the touch of those foul things that would corrupt the purity of the Swarm. Time was short. Already it could feel the impact of lasers and plasma, the rain of hypersonic needles and even the impact of a nuclear missile upon its chitin.

It was weakening but it could not delay. Even as it searched, it sacrificed its Swarm by the thousands, calling in millions more. And still they fought to kill it.

Aiur...that was the name of this rock wasn't it? The name they spoke of with tongues of meat or focused psionic communications. Pitiful, how these creatures were united only in the face of a graver threat.

The carrier was coming closer, and the chitin was falling away in great chunks as the large, clunky machines the meat called 'Terrans' named 'Siege Tanks' arrived and added their shelling to the barrage falling on it's skin. The Protoss bombardment only added to the agony it was feeling, but it continued to search.

Again and again its eye swept across more and more dimensions; it was already gathering the sum of all its knowledge, all of its psychic power, everything that made up the swarm both past, present, and future was gathered. The Primals, they would be left to the chosen Successor. The one pure of the Xel'Naga.

If it lived that long. Urgency drove it to search harder, until it found one place that held something strange, something different. A great barrier, encompassing a single reality, a multiverse in nature. A single gap, a metaphorical pinhole, was the point of entry it found.

Yes, this place would do. A 'Terran' homeworld, full of Terrans but there was a difference. Some had strange powers and abilities, linked to strange, parasitic creatures by some manner of quantum tunnel.

But this place held no touch of the Xel'Naga, it was empty of their influence. That was what it was searching for as it gathered all of it's knowledge into a single psionic gestalt package, and then added it's final touch. The same genetic agents it used to transform it's chosen agent were no gathered; a psionic change that would utilise the host to rebuild the Swarm in a purer form, in case it failed.

The vessel was on it's final approach. So much of it's protective shell was ruined and useless; in a single pulse of energy and flexing of muscle the remains fell away in a shower of gore and exposed its core. This was the end.

It was going to die. It knew this, but also knew that it would not fully die. This plan, it was foreseen, a suppression of its will and a torpor that would ensure that it could not be dragged back to serve. A good result, even if they did not truly know why it was good. Much could be done, but this last action would be hidden from all.

Even the memory of sending this last fragment of knowledge would be taken from it, to ensure survival.

The Protoss vessel was now engulfed in energy, a psychic maelstrom that would drive it into oblivion, but it was ready now. All it needed was the psychic push to send it's knowledge forth into that empty place, where it would find a host and birth the Swarm anew.

As the vessel drew closer, it drew upon the psychic storm surrounding it, feeding a powerful charge as it prepared to launch its final gamble. The building energy was perfect to disguise it as well; the Protoss in the vessel was distracted by its preperations, the Terrans had none who could detect it and the swirling energies clouded it's intent even from it's chosen successor.

If it had the appropriate organs, it would have smiled. It merely prepared for the moment of truth; the moment was fast approaching as the Protoss vessel approached but it held off, it had to wait until the very last—

There! A single, massive burst of psychic energy, clouded by the storm of psionic energy, was the perfect moment and it seized it without hesitation. As the information was sent, the memory was scrubbed from its vast mind, ensuring that it would go into oblivion unknowing of what it had done.

At the very moment that the last of its memory was removed, the Protoss Carrier carrying Tassadar slammed into the core of the Overmind of the Zerg. In a great psychic blaze, the ruling mind of the Zerg was destroyed and millions of Zerg were rendered without any leadership.

The Zerg were scattered. But even as the Kropulu Sector prepared for a period of peace and future troubles the fragment of psionic power vanished through the pinhole in the dimensional barrier.

It drifted through space, heading towards the planet it was directed to approach. Alien senses, born of focused psionic energy, swept the planet looking for a suitable host. It passed over families, a drifting group and more, until it found a single candidate.

It was young, aggressive, and active. It looked suitable, seeking prey to hunt and fight. And it recognised the data as being female, which meant that reproductive organs could be re-purposed to provide basic Swarm recreation. It was the best option.

Diving through the atmosphere, the fragment of psionic power and knowledge approached a young woman crouched on a rooftop.


* * *

Chapter 1: First Night Out

She had spent weeks putting the costume together, finding a weapon that could work with her power, and practising with her power, all for this moment. As she crouched on top of a rooftop, face hidden behind a black hockey mask and her hair carefully tied back, Sophia Hess checked her watch and began her hunt for someone to beat up.

She checked her new weapons, a large professional hunting crossbow with specially-made night sights for easier aiming, before looking down at the alleyways from her position. Nothing, she'd have to move on and keep searching for some criminal activity. Concentrating slightly, Sophia felt her body turn into something in her mirror looked like some kind of shadowy gas, so 'turning shadow' was the best description for it.

Meh, fuck it, she was here to kick ass, not sit on her ass. She was about to jump to the next rooftop and continue her first patrol of her vigilante career when there was a flash of light and Sophia felt something strike her head. Tumbling onto her face, thankfully still in her shadow form, Sophia recovered and stood up on the rooftop, "What the hell?"

Looking around revealed nothing out of the ordinary. There was only the night-time sounds of Brockton Bay which really was just more gunfire compared to Brockton Bay in the daytime. Shaking her head to try and dispel the faint throbbing, Sophia turned shadow again and leapt across to the next rooftop, beginning her patrol.

She continued jumping from roof to roof, idly daydreaming about what she'd break up and prove herself a kickass, badass, vigilante that wasn't going to take shit from anyone and not need to wait around, hoping for someone to help her.

Sophia's lips curled back in a feral smile. She was strong now, she was a predator. And so long as she played it smart, then the gangs would be her prey, weak. Sophia giggled to herself, she sounded so cool, like some kind of female Batman or Punisher. Too bad she couldn't figure out how to make her power work with ninja stars.

Too bad she couldn't find ninja stars, those would have been awesome along with her new crossbow. Sophia shook her head as she landed, placing a hand to her head as the throbbing increased before subsiding. Shaking her head slightly, Sophia cast another glance down at the alleyways.

Nothing. Just homeless people sheltering in cardboard boxes and gathered around drum fires. Flitting across the rooftops, studiously trying to ignore the way her head throbbed each time she turned to shadow, Sophia kept searching.

"Come on, some E88, some ABB, Teeth, Marche, hell I'll take on Merchants right now, just give me a crime to stop." Sophia hissed in frustration as she landed and began searching the area. She wasn't going back to bed until she found something because it wasn't fair that her first patrol since getting her powers would be so...empty!

Kicking a piece of loose concrete, rubbing her head with a grimace, the twelve-year-old girl let loose a rather cute moan of frustration before swearing, "Fuck. Some first night this turned out to be. Don't even get to show Brockton Bay that it has a new, badass superhero." She posed, "Shadow Stalker! Here to prey on the weak criminals like the strong, kickass superhero she is!"

She giggled, feeling a little better, before shuddering and patting down her body in shock as she felt a crawling sensation across her body, before it faded just as she undid her...'borrowed' bodysuit and checked to make sure she somehow hadn't gotten infested with bugs. Seeing that there was nothing there, the young girl sighed in relief before picking up her crossbow from where she had dropped it.

"Last thing I want is to be covered in bugs." Shuddering in disgust, Sophia began searching again, intent on finding at least a mugger or even just some pimp getting violent with their 'merchandise'. And still she turned up nothing, but just as the adventurous and aggressive pre-teen was about to give up and call it a night, she heard the one sound she had been waiting to hear.

As the scream echoed into the night, Sophia was already turning to shadow and bounding across the rooftops towards the source. Her crossbow was in her hands and with a tug she pulled an arrow loose and slipped it into place, ready to fire at whatever bastard was tormenting some woman!

She landed on the roof over the alley that Sophia thought she heard the scream come from, ignoring the way her fingertips felt hot, and looked over into an alleyway. Her lips spread in a wide, happy smile as she saw some thug beating on a woman, "Finally."

She took aim at the man's shoulder, thumbed off the safety, shifted into her shadow state, and then pulled the trigger to send the shadowy arrow flying towards the man with soft hiss.

Sophia had practised with her power, but she still mentally counted the seconds as the arrow sped towards the man's shoulder just as he raised his arm to strike the cowering woman. The arrow slipped into his shoulder and then stopped cold as it solidified inside his body, fused into bone and flesh.

The result was immediate as the man dropped to the ground screaming in agony and Sophia took the chance to drop down to the street in her shadow form, approaching the woman who was backed up against the alleyway wall, clutching her bleeding face. Sophia sneered slightly, the bitch didn't look like she had even tried to fight back.

Sophia didn't let her disdain creep into her voice. Heroes had to sound heroic, even if they thought the people they were helping were pathetic, "Are you okay?"

As the woman started blubbering and whimpering her thanks, Sophia amended her thought.

'Especially if the people are pathetic. Get a fucking grip, he wasn't even armed.'

She decided to just push through, "Do you have a phone? You should call the police, get them to haul this fucker away." The woman nodded frantically and began digging around in her handbag while Sophia approached the downed man, unable to help but gloat, "Big man. Not so tough now, huh?"

The thug remained still and as the woman called for the police, Sophia drew closer as she felt a twinge of concern. He wasn't dead was he? Drawing closer, Sophia kicked lightly at the man's prone body, "Get up you bitch, I only hit you in the shoulder."

When the man didn't respond, Sophia sighed and carefully knelt down to check on him and use the zip-ties she had bought from the store.

Her fingertips were feeling hot again as she grasped his shoulder, ready for anything, when suddenly he span on the ground and lashed out with his free hand, a taser in his hand.

Sophia turned to shadow and jumped back, but it was too late. The taser tips brushed against the gaseous form of Sophia and instantly the girls senses became pain as she landed with a scream, re-solidifying as she rolled in agony. Tears sprang unbidden as she gritted her teeth to stifle more screams as the thug recovered.

"Heh, gonna fuck you up now, and then I'm gonna take care of you, you slut." He was slow in getting up, the arrow was still in his shoulder and he wasn't willing to try and pull it out but that didn't mean anything as Sophia sucked in desperate breaths and tried to get control over her body. The crawling sensation was back and her fingertips felt like they were on fire.

But as she writhed, Sophia's eyes were locked onto the approaching thug as more tears managed to escape. Her first night out, her one chance to prove herself as being strong, and now she was going to die. It wasn't fair!

She wanted to live! She tried to move, get her stunned body to attack, defend, anything to fight off what she knew was coming.

'Dammit! Move! I'm not going down like this!'

Sophia glared as she felt her burning-hot fingers twitch, then flex as Sophia felt something shift painfully inside her fingers but she could barely feel it on top of the pain that was already in her system. But as she glared, Sophia could feel control returning to her limbs as she managed to ball her fist and get ready for one last strike.

'If I'm going down, I'm going to make sure you remember it!'

He knelt, taser in his hand, "Gonna have some fun with you, brat, and then I'm going to make sure you and your little Halloween getup get tossed out in the trash where you be-"

Sophia's hand had launched up in a fist intending to punch the guy, but a new, alien, impulse told her to unfurl her hand and aim lower. There was a sensation of something popping in her fingers, and then Sophia's vision was covered in something dark, hot and sticky just as the woman screamed.

'What...what happened?'

Wiping at her mask, Sophia coughed as she tasted something hot and coppery in her mouth, before she scrubbed at the plastic lenses on her hockey mask to clear them of the...of the...

"What the fuck...?" Sophia stared at her hand in the moonlight shining down through the clouds as the woman's screams faded into whimpers.

More specifically Sophia stared at the long claws that had somehow burst through her gloves, stained with something dark and wet that dripped off them.

Then she smelt it and her eyes widened as she placed just what was on her hand.

Blood. There was blood on her hand...no, her hands, both of them. It was all over her mask, her suit and pool all over the ground near...

Sophia valiantly suppressed the urge to retch as she looked at the corpse of the man that had been attacking the woman behind her and then attacked her. The corpse that still had one of her arrows in his shoulder even as blood sluggishly leaked from the large, ugly slashes in his neck.

"Shit." Sophia whispered as she grabbed the arrow, turned shadow, and pulled it out. As she did, her eyes noticed the way those long claws on her other hand looked much more solid than the rest of her body as she transformed back. She was still staring at her claw when she heard the woman shift and turned.

The woman was staring at the body, eyes wide, "Is..." She swallowed, "Is he...?"

Sophia nodded, "Yeah. He's dead. Sorry."

The woman shook her head, "N-no, it's fine. More than fine. He...he was going to kill me, if you hadn't arrived. Would have killed you as well, you did what you had to do."

'Yeah...that's right. I did what I had to do, right? Strong don't grieve for the weak, he certainly wouldn't have. I turned the tables on him, and I came out the victor. I was the stronger one.'

Sophia turned back to the body, "I have to go. Did you...?"

The woman nodded, although Sophia didn't see, "Yeah, I called the cops. Listen...I'll cover for you. You saved my life, so I owe you."

Sophia didn't say a word. She merely nodded, turned to shadow, and began climbing back up onto the rooftops. As she climbed, the woman noticed the small gouges in the wall as the sound of police sirens echoed in the distance.

As the police arrived and the woman remained true to her word and spun a different story, Sophia landed on a roof near her block, solidifying as yanked off her mask and threw up behind an air-conditioning unit. As she emptied her stomach, the girl felt her new claws cutting easily through the metal of the air-conditioner and she brought up her other hand, staring at it.

"How...how the fuck did that happen?" Scrubbing away tears, Sophia looked at her other hand, "How do I have claws? Did I...did I gain more powers?"

She looked at her other hand and tried to imagine claws coming out of her fingers, intently watching to see if anything would happen. She was about give up after a few minutes when she felt something shift in her palm, running down her fingers as they began to feel hotter until Sophia had to grit her teeth as the heat turned painful.

Suddenly, with a series of wet pops and the tearing of nylon and leather, a set of long black claws punched through her gloves and Sophia jerked back with a shriek to fall on her backside.

Staring wide-eyed at the inches-long claws that had clearly come out of her fucking fingers, Sophia slowly managed to get her rapid, nearly hyper-ventilating, breathing under control as she carefully curled her fingers and watched how the moonlight shone on them. Finally, she tentatively smiled.

"Fucking cool."

A Bet On Bet

(Автор: Slayer Anderson)

Worm CYOA — A Bet on Bet.?

1.0?

I frowned at the screen.

"Do you want to play a game?" I read aloud to myself, raising an eyebrow slowly.

I looked the private message over again, contemplating what it could mean. I looked at the tag on the sender's profile and chewed my lip thoughtfully. This was about as obvious as I'd ever heard one being, but...

"Quoting WarGames or paraphrasing Saw?" I replied, buying me time to think.

Unfortunately, the reply came only a second later, far too fast for a mere human set of hands to have typed the block of text sitting in front of me. "WarGames, of course," I muttered, reading the post once again. Ah, the perks of being able to talk aloud to yourself without being overheard. It made brainstorming really easy, at least.

"I have some class," I continued, my lips quirking fractionally. "But you didn't answer my question, and I know you're stalling for time. I've always found games are more interesting with people who actually desire to play. Others have found forcing individuals to be entertaining, but having a willing participant tends to cut out a great deal of (w)angst. So, to reiterate the question, do you want to play a game?"

I leaned back, staring at the monitor for a long moment, the cursor blinking ominously.

"What system?" I eventually replied, wondering if this would contractually obligate tacit approval.

"Worm, CYOA," came the immediate reply and I rubbed thoughtfully at my chin considering the rest of the post. "You'd generate a character from the list of abilities, perks, complications, and companions. It's all the rage right now, after all. Should I take that as a 'yes'?"

Worm.

Oh boy.

The saving grace was that the proposal included the 'create your own adventure' module that had been floating around for the past few weeks. I...tended to ignore those types of things as a rule, but the Worm community, being as it is, had dragged me into it. It was the reason I'd gotten a Spacebattles account, the reason I'd opened one of Sufficient Velocity, Questionable Questing too. Even though I'd written pieces of various things for other authors in the fandom, I've yet to actually post something of pseudo-original content to one of the boards...at least, not for Worm.

Knowing me, it would probably end up being an SI, given the recent kick I'd been on.

"I blame you for this, Biigoh, I want you to know that," I sighed quietly. The tanuki had originally invited me to Spacebattles, so this was his fault right? I rolled my eyes at my thought process and refocused my dwindling attention span.

"...and this is all my choice, right? No penalties for refusing to play? No punishment games or being tossed into a hellworld, right?" I asked.

Of course, there was always the chance that this wasn't what I thought it was. But, really, there wasn't any reason not to treat it as real. If it turned out to be some trolling computer hacking, the most I'd suffer would be a few minutes' embarrassment.

"None whatsoever. Aschente?"

I wonder if that meant what it implied.

"Aschente." I agreed, grinning widely, and posted my reply.

"Excellent. Now, what level of difficulty do you desire?" He'd posted the standard settings and I swallowed. This was the largest deciding factor in the game, really. The one that could make or break my chance at 'victory.' I snorted, shaking my head. There was only one obvious choice.

"World-Breaker," I entered.

There was a few moments' pause this time between replies.

"I was afraid you'd pick that," without even hearing him actually say his reply, I could understand a defeated tone in the text. "I so had hoped you would make this interesting."

I scowled, feeling insulted.

"Games are called Games for a reason," I replied. "They're fun. If they're not fun, then you're just dealing with real life. Easy-mode doesn't mean it won't be fun, or that I can't make things interesting. Give me a chance to make my case, why don't you? Once you see my theoretical build, we can talk about any changes."

Another slight pause.

"Alright then, impress me," he challenged. I could imagine a slightly haughty undertone to his voice.

"You asked for it," I muttered, leaning over my keyboard aggressively and moving the CYOA pdf to my other screen. I licked my lips for a moment and wondered if I really had it in me to be this batshit insane. Would he go for it?

Minutes passed as I carefully typed out the remainder of my choices, then added another few hundred words on the various choices, why I'd made them, and what I intended to take as a plan of action. Of course, I also noted abilities that I hadn't picked, and why, letting my...game master, I suppose would be the best term...letting him see that I had actually applied some level of consideration to the whole thing.

There was another pause, this one the longest of the bunch.

Then I flinched as I heard laughter from my computer's speakers.

"Oh," the voice groaned, his hysterical giggles finally dying down. "Oh yes, I haven't laughed like that in ages...that's the terrible part of being the head hauncho around my neck of the woods: no one has a sense of humor. But you! I like you...and I think I'll agree to your proposal. Heck, I'll even overlook that one perk you wanted that isn't something you should be able to pick, okay?"

I swallowed, more deeply unnerved than I perhaps should have been over the entire affair. Still, though, it was another point in favor of my theory, that this was who I thought it was...and 'what' I thought it was, too, for that matter.

I cleared my throat and, took a moment to gather my words. "That's it then? You'll approve the entire list?"

"Surprising, isn't it? But, you're right to be wary. Here's the catch," the voice from my speakers explained as I listened. It was, more or less, a bet. The stakes were higher, but...it basically amounted to the fact that the more I deviated from, the more...my GM would throw complications my way.

I could immediately see how bad that could get if I just got tired of fucking around and took the bull by the horns. If I went too far...

"...okay," I nodded. "I agree."

I didn't allow myself to think about what happened if I fucked up. After all, this was Worm we were talking about. Scion's rampage would kill hundreds of billions if it got to that point.

...and that wasn't taking into account what else I'd stipulated.

"Good, excellent!" The voice had a grin in it now. "Any other questions?"

"What happens if I lose?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"...hmm, I think I'll keep that a secret," the reply came teasingly. "After all, you're holding so many cards already, it wouldn't do to let you have the whole deck. Are you ready?"

I sighed and looked around my room. My nice, safe room in a first-world country where I didn't really want for much. I had life, a measure of liberty, and pursuit of property with the possibility of the singularity occurring before my meat-body finally gave out and I died. Was I really so insane as to jump into something like this out of sheer boredom?

"Hit me with your best shot," I said, before I could convince myself to be a coward.


* * *

1.0(1)?

When I came to, things were...different.

It only took me a fraction of a second to assess my new 'powers.' I hesitated for a moment, then started to bring up my theoretical plan. If this was the start point I'd mentioned...hmm, how best to go about this then? Flexing my new metaphysical muscles, I focused and...

Oh, yes.

This was going to be fun.


* * *

I mentally reviewed my backstory for the thousandth time.

Of course, given my new eidetic memory, I didn't need to review it, but old habits die hard.

Then, I accessed another power and began plotting the finer points of my first week's activities. This was probably the biggest thing any game, ever, had taught me.

You didn't make plans.

Plans are bad.

If you make a plan, pretty soon the plan becomes more important than the goal that the plan is supposed to accomplish. The practice of planning isn't inherently bad, of course, but it is somewhat inflexible by it's nature. I'd seen it time and time again in both fiction and real life. People made these awesome, spectacular plans and when situations changed, they didn't bother adjusting to them. I think that was what rubbed me wrong about Cauldron in general, and Contessa in specific.

Cauldron had a goal: Kill Scion.

Contessa, though, was a plan without a goal. She was a living plot device that did exactly what her powers told her to without any understanding of the how or why behind the strategies she was being told to implement. In effect, Cauldron had placed near-complete blind trust in Contessa and her path to victory without understanding what 'victory' meant beyond Scion being dead. Sure, that was important, but...

I sighed. Another time-wasting diatribe.

Anyway, my original point was that plan are bad.

Guidelines, though...goals, ideas, these are more fluid, more adaptable.

Besides, I'd always been better at jumping in head-first and improvising the rest of the way.

Lying blindly on the ground, I nevertheless found myself right where I needed to be, a carefully calculated place that would land me in the path of my first...contact. Yeah, 'contact' sounded appropriately neutral.

"Oh! Ames, look, it's a dog! It's bleeding!"

I whimpered slightly at the noise, giving my best 'I'm a poor injured doggie' impression. Judging by Victoria Dallon's wordless, worried noise, as she began cooing me.

"And look at this, someone put tape all over it's head!" She stated, her voice somewhere between a sympathetic whine and a growl promising punishment to her enemies.

"Vicky, let me see it for a moment if you're that worried about the dog," Amy Dallon gave a resigned sigh and began prodding at my injury with a less-than-gentle touch. Honestly, I was almost surprised she was bothering. Granted, I'd timed things early enough so that she wasn't nearly as close to burning out as she was at the bank, but...

If I could have felt pain, it would have receded as the wound in my side closed.

"There, no let's just pull off the tape and hope he doesn't bite us," Amy decided warily.

"Here, let me," Vicky interrupted, "Invulnerable, remember?"

I felt her aura wash over me as she stepped closer, though it was as a wave against the stone of my mind. I could tell what it was trying to do, but I merely strengthened myself a bit and let it wash away.

There was the sound of tearing tape and paper as my impromptu 'muzzle' came off.

Ah, I could see again! Oh, and that was a pleasant view...

The sight of Victoria Dallon's breasts barely concealed within her low-cut top mesmerized me for a moment as the girl floated back slowly, carefully, not making any sudden movements.

I shook myself, allowing instincts to take over as I attempted to work out kinks that weren't really there at the moment. Still, from the way the two sisters were looking at me, I was probably at least an impressive sight...

"Wow, that's...a big dog," Amy said slowly.

"Yeah, I mean...he looked a lot smaller laying down, didn't he?" Vicky replied, hovering in front of her sister cautiously as I looked back towards them.

Victoria was blonde haired, with enchanting green eyes and a figure that doubtless let her wear the title 'bombshell' with ease. Honestly, I couldn't blame Amy for crushing on her, with or without the aura. Amy was obviously a little care-worn in her clothing selection, much more casual than her sister, and her face and hair bore out the 'mousy' comparison I'd so often seen made.

I coughed slightly, focusing their attention on me further as I bowed my head and forced an upturned crescent moon to appear on my brow. Taking a deep breath, I raised my head and looked them dead on in their wide, wide eyes.

"Thank you for removing the restraint and healing me. I am in your debt. May I have the names of those who came to my aid?"

Their eyes were...nearly bulging now, I appreciated silently.

Interestingly enough, Invictus can be applied to keep you from laughing, no matter how much you want too, just as well as it can be applied to things like pain and depression. So useful.

"You're...a cape?" Victoria asked eventually, coming back to herself as she floated closer, curious.

"Vicky! Don't...we don't know who he is!" Amy urged quietly, though my keen hearing picked it up easily.

"The name I cam currently using is Orion, if it puts you at ease to have a form of address," I replied calmly as Victoria circled me slowly.

"Wow...so is this a changer power or something?" Victoria asked, reaching out to poke me.

"If that is a question as to whether or not I can change my form, that function is currently denied to me," I explained, turning my head to follow her. "Is it customary in this culture to ask invasive questions before introducing oneself? If this is the case, I apologize for my faux pas."

Victoria blushed crimson as I blinked innocently.

Amy snorted, then covered her mouth in surprise as I turned an inquisitive eye to her. "Oh, sorry, no...that's not normal. Victoria is just a little...intrusive, sometimes. I'm Amy Dallon and this is my sister, Victoria Dallon."

I nodded, then inhaled deeply before quirking my head. "Sisters? Adopted I assume. I am sorry if it is rude to mention, but you do not smell of the same blood."

Both sisters flinched back, obviously surprised.

"How did you know?" Victoria asked, her eyes narrowing as she frowned. "I mean, that's not something we advertise, exactly...and you said you didn't know who we are."

"Genetic identification through passive scanning is a relatively simple application of my abilities. I have been provided with sensory instruments that allow me a wide array of information by which to deduce the fact that you two have no blood relation. For completeness' sake, I also analyzed body type, facial structure, visible genetic phenotypes, and other characteristics common to close relations. Such instrumentation is necessary for the completion of my mission, I am sorry if I have caused you undue stress or invaded your privacy."

As I explained, both of their eyebrows rose high on their foreheads and the exchanged wary glances. I waited calmly as they digested the information dumped on then, my posture passive.

"Ohhhkaaaay," Victoria drew out. "That's...creepy, but kind of cool. So, you can just tell if any two people are related?"

I nodded as Amy's narrowed.

I could see her putting two and two together.

"Vicky," Amy said quietly, "I think we should call the PRT."

"Huh?" Victoria asked, her eyebrows furrowing. "Why? You think he's a Case 53 or something? He seems to have it together too much for that."

"No," Amy shook her head. "He mentioned he's on a mission that needs tools to identify genetic information. He's looking for someone, on behalf of someone else."

"Oh," Victoria nodded, giving me a suspicious look. "So what about it? Who're you looking for...and who sent you?"

"That information is classified," I replied calmly. "Only individuals who match a predetermined set of genetic markers may be informed of the parameters of my mission. The original mission parameters were set by the High Lunar Empress Serenity the Ascendent in the event of a Class X disaster."

I really, really wanted to start laughing right now.

"High Lunar Empress?" Amy asked, looking at me oddly. "Who is...is that the cape that made you like this? Some weirdo who thinks they're queen of the moon and wants you to find someone?"

"Serenity the Ascendent was the ruler of this solar system between 13 million years ago and 7 million years ago who gave the initial orders to capture my core and alter it to serve the Sol Empire, although the full list of mages, scientists, and programmers is archived in my memory. I can recite the information at request after I have provided the the armor, weapons, and equipment I have stored in a pocket dimension to the individual with matching genetic markers. I do apologize, but mission parameters take precedence over requests." I stated politely.

More blinking.

"Bullshit," Victoria stated, shaking her head. "That's it, I've had enough of fairy-tale time. Ames, call the PRT, we'll let them take care of this bozo."

Amy, though, was still staring at me, her eyes narrow now.

"You just told me that you were instructed to deliver armor and weapons to someone," Amy pointed out, "but you told Victoria that you couldn't tell anyone except the the person who gave you the instructions and the person you were supposed to find. Why did you tell me?"

"Your genetic material is a high-fidelity match to one of the sample sets I have archived. As you are one of the subjects identified in my search protocols, you are hereby awarded administrative access to information contained within this unit. Are you amenable to receive the items at this point in time?"

Victoria shifted quickly, moving more fully between myself and her sister.

"Okay, listen here, freak, you're not going anywhere near my sister with any 'weapons,' you get me?" She ordered, ready to charge me at a moment's notice.

"If you intend to impede my primary mission objectives, I must warn you that I am capable of incapacitating you. This course of action is not recommended," I replied calmly.

"Just you try it, freak!" Vicky sneered, slapping a fist into her palm.

"Wait!" Amy shouted, holding up her hands and stepping out from behind her sister. "Wait...look, Orion, you said your name was?"

"Affirmative," I nodded.

"Okay, look...what if I said I don't want...whatever you're supposed to give me?" Amy asked as her sister relaxed slightly.

"Irrelevant," I stated. "Mission parameters are as follows: locate individuals fitting selection criteria, allocate subspace receiver node to individuals so that they may access indicated items, administer required information to instruct individuals in the equipment's use, provide tactical and strategic briefings, aid individuals in battle, and provide for individuals' physical, emotional, spiritual, and sexual welfare if necessary. I am authorized to disable any and all sentient beings who impede the mission parameters."

"Oh yeah!" Vicky taunted, "then if you're so tough, how were you bleeding out on the concrete back there, huh?"

"Combat information pertaining to this unit's weaknesses is restricted," I stated blandly.

Amy scowled and repeated the question.

In accordance with my ploy, I answered her in full. After all, she had 'permission' to have the information. "...and, though I had managed to incapacitate the combatant you have indicated is known as 'Hookwolf,' his men were able to place a binding on my crest, which, in my currently limited state of power, reduced my abilities enough that they were able to injure me. In such a state, I was forced to flee the battlefield."

Man...that had been a bitch to set up. If I hadn't been able to see the future, I'd never have been able to get that to work.

"Holy shit," Victoria muttered, "think he's telling the truth, Ames?"

"No idea," Amy replied, then sighed and addressed me directly. "Look, is this...stuff, you're supposed to give me anything that will hurt me or anyone else?"

I pondered the question for a moment. "Such a consideration depends on situational context. The items in question are uniformly meant to be used for your protection, though situations may arise in which a lack of care in their use or a lack of knowledge in their use may result in injury or casualties. Barring accidental injury of yourself or others, the equipment will responded to the desires of the user. As such, if you direct the weaponry towards an object or individual, it is likely they will be slain unless they possess superior durability."

Vicky's eyes nearly crossed as my explanation twisted around on itself.

"He means that it shouldn't hurt anyone unless I use it to," Amy translated, then frowned. "Which I won't. I'm a healer. I don't need to hurt people."

There was a long moment of silence.

"Look," Amy stated, frowning, "If I...receive whatever you want to give me, will you come with us to the PRT and explain all this to them? Please?"

I considered the request for all of one second. "Affirmative. Secondary priority mission objectives require I remain nearby the selected individuals. I will travel with you to the indicated destination."

Amy closed her eyes and rubbed at her forehead. "I just know I'm going to regret this..."

"Ames?" Vicky asked quietly.

Looking back at me, she called out in a firm voice. "Okay, this is how it's going to work. You take three steps forward and put down the...whatever it is. Then you go back to where you were and I'll come up and pick up this stuff. After that, we're going to the PRT. If you move so much as a single paw out of line, though, the deals off."

"Agreed," I nod and open my mouth. A small burst of light later and a hand-sized circular stone with ancient symbols on it appears between my teeth.

...because I am a dog, and I am not going to indulge in acrobatics merely to produce a magical artifact.

I take three steps forward and place the stone on the ground, then take three steps back. "The items in question will appear when you touch the subspace node. Please do not be alarmed by their sudden appearance. They will be inert until you receive the proper training to actualize them."

Amy looked at the stone with distrust, but firmed her face and stepped forward, even as Victoria watched anxiously from behind her.

There was a flash of light as her fingers made contact with the stone.

For a brief moment, I was able to see Amy Dallon, now clothed in a purple and gold breastplate, purple and black shirt and pants decorated with intricate flourishes of gold, gloves, boots, and helmet of the same design, even as her hand reached out to instinctively catch the towering glaive that had appeared before her.

The sigil of Saturn burned bright on forehead, even through the helmet's metal.

I decided to pull an old classic dog trick...and played dead, slumping to the side in apparent unconsciousness as I enjoyed Amy Dallon freaking the fuck out.

Oh yes, this was going to be so much fun indeed.


* * *

1.1(2)?

I didn't wake up.

That was because I didn't pass out to begin with.

Still, it was interesting to hear Amy completely freak out over her new...costume. Vicky wasn't in a much better state. I'll spare the details, but needless to say that Invictus is my pick for the most useful perk ever created. The ability to only express what emotions I consciously decided to was worth more than anyone really considered it would be, especially when you're organizing a 'prank' on this sheer scale.

Although...does it really count as a prank if it's actually true?

Hmm...I guess it's in the execution, if you want to be technical and-oh, look, the PRT is here!

Okay, let's see what happens now. Precognition is turned off at the moment, so no spoilers...and they're putting me into quarantine. Awesome. Safe, but boring...and extra-sensory perception is 'on,' now...

Armsmaster: "I'm a hero! Listen to me be important! Put everything in lockdown while I handle the press and be a hero! Thank you nameless PRT grunt who I addressed by your non-existant name only because my social-fu heads-up display remembers you!"

Victoria: "Grr! Bad Dog Hurt Sister, Vicky Smash!"

Miss Militia: "Reasonable Objection! Heartfelt Concern! Sensible Authority Figure Remarks!"

Amy: "Freaking out here! Awesome Armor and Stick-Sword, but can't say I like it or Master/Stranger Protocols! Vicky's but is cute. Must resist urge to mind-rape! Huh, but powers! Powers No Work?! Ah! Return to Freaking out.exe!"

Victoria: "Urge to Kill Rising! Vicky phone home! Dismissive Carol sees validation of concern of Amy's secret villainy! Why can no hit family problems hard enough to fix!"

...huh, evidently Victoria is at least somewhat aware of her mother's neurosis. Well, live and learn.

Armsmaster: "Master/Stranger Protocols!"

Amy: "Fucking Damnit!"

...and we now return to our regularly scheduled program.


* * *

I teleported into the already in-progress conference between the adult members of New Wave, Victoria, Amy, Director Emily Piggot, Armsmaster, and Miss Militia. Unlike a filthy cat, I didn't teleport in above the floor just to show off that I can land on all four feet. Fucking show offs. Instead, I merely appeared off to the side of the meeting. One moment I was elsewhere, then was here.

...with a great many charged powers/weapons ready to blast me if I make a wrong move.

"...knock, knock?" I asked, lamely.

"How did you get in here?" Emily demanded.

"...do you want the mathematical equations regarding how to rewrite local space-time or would 'I can teleport' suffice?" I asked, cocking my doggy head.

"Parahuman provisionally known as 'Orion,' I would ask you to please come with me quietly and without resistance to a holding cell until we can confirm the identity of your creator or the individual who has placed you under their control." Armsmaster stated firmly. "I would further ask that you make no sudden moves, activate any powers, or speak at all."

"No," I replied bluntly.

"Are you refusing to cooperate with a duly appointed representative of a law enforcement agency?" Armsmaster growled threateningly.

"Look, Colin," I said shortly, bringing the man to a standstill. "I just woke up from a several million-year-long hibernation cycle because one of my subroutines picked up an existential threat which is slowly breaking the sealing magic used by one of the most powerful mages in history to bind it. To top off that wonderful wakeup call, my systems couldn't locate any of my permission holders, or their backups, or the backups to those backups and so on, so I went into what you would know as 'safe mode' until I could find someone who won the reincarnation lottery. Now, my main personality core has rebooted, I've had a snack, and I've updated my porn stash, so I'm in a pretty good mood as opposed to a few hours ago. What I'm trying to say is that you're out of your league, kid, now put down the pointy stick before you hurt yourself."

"I must warn you that disseminating information regarding a member of the Protectorate's civilian identity is a felony," he replied darkly. "You will find that mental disorders grant you some amount of leniency, but there are limits which you are fast approaching."

"Orion," it seemed Amy had finally found her voice as she stepped up. She was still dressed in her 'Saturn Knight' armor, though the glaive had fallen back into sub-space from what I could see. Good, she could pick this up pretty quickly. "Please go with Armsmaster and we can sort this all out later, okay? I don't want them to hurt you."

I sighed, "Right. You're Amy, then. It's nice to properly meet you without having my personality bound behind a partition. Since I've dumped a pretty big load on you, I'll be nice. You have command-level access while I'm in safe mode and during combat situations where you, yourself, are not directly endangering noncombatants lives. Outside of those situations and my normal programming, I'm my own...dog. You know, we really need to find the Knight of Mars soon, because not being able to change my form is bullshit."

A round of blinks.

"Following that logic," Armsmaster stated, "If I were to engage you in combat, Ms. Dallon could order you to stand down and allow yourself to be apprehended."

"Sure," I nodded, then shrugged. "If you were actually a threat, yeah. As it is...hmm, okay, look at it this way. You're a Neanderthal who thinks he's hot shit with a stone-tipped spear point. I'm a modern human driving an Abrams tank. Only, well, you're actually more like a lizard armed with a wet noodle, but I'm trying to be generous with my threat assessment since you're trying so hard."

Victoria visibly bit her lip as she tried not to burst out laughing.

Armsmaster was...less amused.

"I will try not to enjoy detaining you...overmuch," Armsmaster scowled.

"Awesome, you do that champ," I gave him a doggy grin. "And, hey, if you do your very best, we'll go out for ice cream later, you can even have sprinkles on yours."

That seemed to be the point where Armsmaster's rage broke as he launched himself at me.

I did...absolutely nothing.

I mean, I did jack shit while he pounded away with careful probing attacks. I'll give him credit, though, as he didn't actually 'lose it' like most people would have. Even his anger-fueled charge was a feint-attack, designed to put me off my balance. While he was occupied, though, I turned my attention back towards the rest of the group, who seemed appropriately on-edge about the whole 'cape battle' happening on the other side of the room.

"So, now that Colin is busy, we can have that talk, right? I really need to talk with Amy sometime soon about the whole 'demon invasion' and 'Old One breaking free,'" I spoke towards the group. The assembled members of New Wave, Miss Militia, and Emily Piggot stiffened as the noise from my 'battle' with Armsmaster cut out despite the fact that it was still obviously going on. I chuckled, "Don't worry, I'm just controlling the vibration of air molecules to produce or eliminate auditory stimulation as needed."

"How many fucking powers do you have?!" Victoria yelled in outrage, finally having enough of my bullshit. "You make crazy stones that give people armor and take away their old powers, you can teleport, you can control air, what else can you do?"

"Well, if you'll direct your attention to my ongoing...well, I'm not sure what it is, but it certainly isn't a fight. Anyway, I'm also invulnerable to anything any of you can possibly throw at me," I stated, my dog body yawning widely as Armsmaster dulled his halberd further on my extraordinarily sturdy form. So far he'd attempted to use a taser, knock out gas, spray tranquilizer, and a dozen other gizmos, but...

...I just kind of stood there, occasionally lifting my leg to give myself a scratch.

Miss Militia, dutiful soldier that she was, kept her...very, very large gun beaded on me as Armsmaster's assaults continued to fail.

"Also," I mentioned casually, "I'm not actually controlling the 'air.' This is just an extremely fine control of what you would consider psychokinesis. Most of my powers are still sealed, though. Until I can find the rest of the rest of the Knights of Sol, they'll be locked."

"Are you still on about this delusion?" Carol asked with irritation. "Amy isn't some reincarnated warrior from some ancient civilization. It's far more likely that you're just an absurdly powerful cape obsessed with some fantasy world you've created for yourself."

...hmm, I wonder if she'd appreciate how close she came to hitting the nail on the head?

"Okay," I stated blandly.

The assembled capes and director, minus Armsmaster of course, blinked.

"Okay?" Emily Piggot scowled. "You'll cease this behavior?"

"Well, no," I replied, shrugging. "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that I'm delusional and insane. Let's say that all of the programming blocks I have in my head are actually just compulsive behaviors. Let's say that my subconscious mind is creating these power sets that I'm giving out instead of awakening ancient reincarnated warriors. There's no such thing as magic and this is all clarketech, okay? We on the same page now?"

"Provisionally," Emily allowed, "What's your point in this thought exercise if you're merely entertaining the notion?"

"Among the many, many, 'powers' I possess is an extremely powerful precognition, or something that is functionally similar enough to be identical," I explained. "In a few short months, this world will be facing an inter-dimensional breach through which an army of monstrous creatures...which we'll say aren't 'demons,' but are some kind of alien menace for the sake of argument. Now, if I do nothing, this world and a hundred thousand others, burn. Trillions will die. If I find and empower the requisite individuals, this future does not happen. Savvy?"

Even as New Wave seemed to still, Emily's scowl darkened.

"I have a few questions for you...Orion, as you can imagine," Emily began and I cut her off.

"Let me go ahead and answer them to save us all the time of you asking them," I projected, rolling my neck to give Armsmaster a better shot at it. "To confirm my status as a powerful precognitive, Leviathan will attack Sao Paulo tomorrow. You're going to pass this information to your superiors because you'll be fired if you don't. When you talk to Director Costa-Brown, tell her these words exactly: 'I know the true path to victory.' She'll know what I mean. Until then, I'm going to need to familiarize Amy with her new powers, so I'll be taking her to somewhere we can safely train. Ciao"

Amy and I teleported.

In front of Armsmaster, where I had stood, was an ice cream sundae. I'd added sprinkles.

When we next appeared, Amy gave a startled squeak before covering herself desperately.

"Where are my fucking clothes!" She screamed, her face red with shame as she looked around for anything to cover up with. Then she stilled.

...and looked up.

"No. Fucking. Way."

"I actually didn't want to do things this way," I sighed. "However, Knights of Sol are protected from precognition and similar abilities, so I can't pinpoint what would get through to you quickest. I decided that a direct approach was best, so here we are."

I was even honest. I'd given all of my 'Knights of Sol' template powers the 'blank' perk as I constructed the power sets over the past few weeks. It's just...I'd also taken 'shattered limiter,' so...I could still see her, but she didn't need to know that.

Besides, this was more fun.

"Consider this an object lesson in your durability," I went on, looking about us at the dusty-white landscape. "You are currently nude, without any armor or weapons, and have no knowledge of your abilities. We are sitting on the surface of the moon. Can you explain how this is happening?"

Amy squeaked again at the reminder of her nakedness, but I'd already seen enough to be appreciative. Her breasts were a good handful, if not quite as large as her sister's, while her waist had the slightest bit of excess flesh on it, she was by no means fat. Even the hair on her lower lips had been carefully trimmed.

"This can't be real," she said, glaring at me with hard brown eyes. "Send me home. I don't want any part of this stupid...stupid plan or whatever!"

"Let me make my pitch and then I'll send you home if you still want to go," I replied.

"Can I at least get some clothes?" She asked hotly.

I rolled my eyes and a blanket appeared on her shoulders, only my powers sparing it from the conditions of the moon's surface. Amy wasted no time in covering herself.

"Okay, here's what I propose. Either I am an ancient gatekeeper and servitor of an impossibly powerful magic empire that spanned the solar system...or I'm a crazy-powerful and crazy-insane cape who's enlisted you to help him with several strange and vexing compulsions, one of which is to train you in the use of the powers I either gave you or awakened. With me so far?" I asked patiently, my tail kicking up small clouds of moon dust.

She gave me a measured and irritated nod.

"Now, think about that weapon I gave you," I instructed. "Just...think, call it to you with your mind."

She sighed and held out a hand. The polearm appeared instantly.

"Why can't I call the clothes to me like this?" Amy asked, scowling.

"Good catch, and it's because I'm tricking your subconscious into desiring to be naked. If you truly wanted your garb to appear, it would. However, because you're not shielding against psychic attack, I can get away with this. Consider it a part of the training we'll start soon."

Amy opened her mouth to argue, then decided better and settled on glaring at me, disagreement clear on her face.

"If you agree to let me train you, I will teach you the full length and breadth of your abilities. You will learn how to harness forces you never even knew existed, reach heights of power that gods aspire to, and how to wield those abilities for the betterment of mankind." I stated calmly and saw a wondering consideration fleetingly enter her eyes.

"That weapon you hold is the reason the asteroid belt exists today. It is known as the Glaive of Silence, but many nicknamed it the 'Planet Buster.' As one of the most destructive armaments in this or any dimension, you will be more than capable of using it to kill anything that crosses your path, if you complete your training."

Here, her eyes went wide and horrified as she gently placed the weapon on the ground. "You, personally, will be able to destroy all of the Endbringers, should you choose to. I will help you every step of the way and, as recompense, I will explain how you could garner your sister's attention in the way in which you crave. Deal?"

Her eyes widened in fear as I stipulated the last point of our contract and she swallowed before speaking.

"How can you...why are you doing this, why me!? Why not Alexandria or Legend or someone who would know how to deal with this?" She eventually moaned at me, rubbing at her face tiredly.

"You were chosen," I replied honestly. "Whether it was by an immortal artificial construct from millions of years ago, or a deranged super-cape loony who saw a future that he didn't like for you and decided to intervene...well, I suppose the jury's still out on that, isn't it?"

She slumped slightly.

"You promise this isn't some horrible joke? That I'd really be able to...make a difference?"

"I swear," I answered simply.

Amy sighed again, "...and you're not going to stop bugging me until I agree, are you?"

"Probably not. You think Carol would be too upset if I added a doghouse to your backyard?" I asked airily.

That actually got a snicker from the girl. "Carol hates pets."

"Awesome. I look forward to irritating her greatly," I gave her a doggy-grin. "Now, you ready for training?"

"Fine!" Amy growled, tying the blanket around herself like a robe and grabbing her glaive. "Let's do this. The sooner I kick your ass, the sooner you have to take me home! At least it's not another shift at the hospital..."

I quirked a brow and let the comment slide. A conversation for another time.

The girl squeaked as her blanket disappeared, leaving her naked again.

"I told you, clothes are a reward for when you figure out how to protect yourself from psychic intrusion," I explained patiently.

"You want me to fight you naked!?" Amy shrieked, trying to hide behind the too-thin glaive.

"Nope," I replied, then gave her another doggy-grin. "I want you to catch me while naked. Lesson number one: Gravity is a suggestion, not a rule. Figure out how to modulate your energy for Earth-normal gravity and then we'll move on to flying, got that?"

"Modulate my what?" Amy asked, but I was already bounding off into the distance.

"Hey, wait! Orion, come back here!" She called, and I turned to watch as she made an uncontrolled leap that sent her spiraling into a nude tumble. I stared appreciatively at the curve of her buttocks highlighted against the blue Earth hanging in the sky.

Her breasts were equally photogenic, beautiful in the pale light of the moon's surface. Her wide, wild eyes shot me a pleading glance while she hung in midair...before abruptly noticing that she was still naked and attempting to cover herself again. She landed in a messy heap before me.

"Lesson two: You're a beautiful girl and have nothing to be ashamed of." I replied happily at her lingering blush, then ran off again.

An impossible scream of frustration split the absence of air around us. I started humming under my breath, "Training Montage time, bitches."

I was right, this was so much fun.

T_Taylor

(Автор: ArnaudB)

She was a villain.

I knew it from the moment I saw the costumed girl scurrying against the wall, the white and black spandex didn't belong to any hero in Brockton Bay. Something blunt had hit her given the way she held her chest but there was no blood and it didn't seem to hurt her so much that she couldn't walk. Her blond hair loosely hanging below her shoulders hide her back from me but she wasn't on the phone, which she would be if hurt and a parahuman with no legal troubles to fear.

Yet she was a parahuman.

My body steeped forward even as a flicker of worry settled into my stomach. Parahuman meant strange abilities that might be dangerous, a thug would have been safer. It didn't matter, under my large coat the things were twitching and driving me mad. It had been hours since I had been looking for someone bad enough not to make me feel guilty afterward, and a villain certainly fit. My feet carried me forward until I reached the girl.

She felt me coming and turned around despite my care not to make noise. The villain surprisingly wore no mask and green eyes visibly widened when they found me right behind her. I steeped forward as her mouth moved to speak, then opened further to what I recognized would be a scream. Tension filled with body and she started to draw back, right when my cloak opened and the thing lunged at her.

"Y-" The tentacle entered the orifice, halting the scream before it could come out. A second caught her neck, two more her right arm and leg. The rest followed in a moment and captured the girl in an embrace potentially strong enough to bend steel. The appendages, those not-limbs sprouting from my body clenched around the skin-hugging spandex as she struggled and I could feel her tongue still trying to speak slide over my tentacle there.

It increased my frustration so much more.

Four of my tentacles pressed against the ground at my feet to stabilize me and my new load, then I took my catch to a side alley where there was no light. I didn't want anyone to heard the girl's stifled moans. It would be embarrassing! She kept struggling however so I used more of my tentacles to catch her breasts, her hips, and her panties. Lifted in the air without support the girl's struggles weakened quickly, which was nice but even as my tentacles looked for zippers I shuddered at the impropriety of it all. I didn't even knew her name! No wait I did, the joker costume and the blond hair was the description for Tattletale. A member from the villainous group named the Undersiders. I didn't remember what they did but she was a villain so all was well.

Frustration overcame my body and my tentacles stopped trying to remove the girl's costume, instead shrinking to slip inside her clothes. A shiver shook my body as my sensitivity appendages were sandwiched hard between the tight-fitting spandex and the warm skin. Feedback hammered me in pleasant waves as my tentacles entered her shirt from above and below and circled her upper body, a couple reached her chest and joined the ones outside the spandex in clinging and playing with the girl's decently-sized breasts.

Tattletale's mouth became a bath of sensations as her struggling moans increased, the warmth in echo of my own filled mouth was a wonderful feeling. The pressure of her lips, the tantalizing hints of her tongue, her hot saliva all pressing against the sensitivity organ which I didn't control. My brain melted. I orgasmed, coming just as the tentacles in my own three orifices let out their load of that white substance. That aphrodisiac substance produced and kept inside my tentacles, which my stupid power didn't make me immune to even when it was inside the tentacles!

Of course, the rest of my tentacles also came. Tattletale's mouth was suddenly filled by thick liquid, more spurted out from inside her upper costume and was pressed against her skin by the spandex, the costume itself finding itself covered by the stuff. It was a sudden release that made the girl's body bend against her restrains as the powerful aphrodisiac applied its effect on her. Too surprised, too startled, Tattletale swallowed the substance in order not to choke and the pressure of her mouth as she did so was another kind of heaven.

Two more tentacles spilled their content in her panties as they entered it. It covered the girl's lower parts and appropriately prepared her entrance as my appendages entered her pussy then her ass. Then I started fucking her in earnest.


* * *

It was far more pleasant with someone else.

My tentacle twisted inside Tattletale's pussy, going deep inside her, shrinking or growing at my whim. It felt warm and tight inside, the place rather unused like mine had been. So was her ass which clenched upon my tentacles even as her bound body tried to jerk away and upward from my delicious invasion. That her orifices were little used to sex made the wonderful feedback less good than it could have been, her depths were too unfamiliar for me to try the perfect-fitting lightning stabs of tentacles I experienced on myself. Still her jerks rendered the sensations far more violent and that pushed me beyond the edge.

My appendage made a deep thrust just before releasing its arousing substance inside the villainous girl. She tensed, a loud moan managing to escape even as she pressed so very tightly around my tentacles. The one in her ass came instantly as I utterly lost control. I rolled back and forth inside as the liquid kept spilling and the tentacles tickling her nipples felt them harden just a little more. I withdrew the drained tentacles in her lower mouths, bringing two still full of their substance to replace them. Nine drained so far with twelve partially, out of thirty-two tentacles. Then I could rest. Albeit as another unloaded in her wonderful mouth, I worried a little that the no longer struggling villain might not be up to drain the twenty-two remaining ones.

There was howling wind, an impact shaking the ground and my head turning around. A figure stood in the flying ashes of the battered pavement. I found myself facing a white-clothed girl with blond hairs and my thoughts fell into piece. Presence and strength, the image just shattered my will under awe at how marvelous the fit and floating girl looked. She spoke in a voice that could only be admired.

"Another rapist, are you? Do you know how many of you there are around? Worthless scum ceding to base impulse, I am going to deliver both y-" The girl sadly trailed off in her speech. The heroine, for she couldn't be anything else, made a strangled expression as she caught sight of me in the darkness. I supposed even a hero didn't encounter a tentacles-fielding girl often but her shocked expression was still insulting, even if very weirdly it still seemed worth admiration.

Glory Girl's face, I just remembered her name, shifted through several expression. There was anger and disbelief amid those finishing in a burning scarlet face. I also remembered that she had super-strength just as she clenched her fist and leaned forward with limitless grace. Then my brain caught up and my tongue tried to speak, only to remembered that I had a tentacle shoved in my own mouth.

Tension made me release into Tattletale again even as the white clothed heroine flew at me, literally flew. Startled, I shook off my cloak and moved my tentacles to protect myself but it was far too late. Or not. The heroine hesitated, her ready fist pulling back even as she saw me under the cloak, with a flicker of uncertainty on her face. Perhaps because I was a girl or because seeing the tentacles coming from my body made her unwilling to rush me. Still Glory Girl traveled far too fast to stop and flew straight into my tentacles. Utter fear of what the heroine could do to me pushed me to seize her limbs. I got all four plus her neck, which she didn't like.

"Hey!" Glory Girl twisted in mid-air like only a flyer with super-strength could, her hands reaching for my tentacles to tear them apart. She struggled against my abnormally strong appendages. I shivered badly and felt that too great fear again like I had never knew fear, it mixed with an overpowering admiration for the sheer strength, speed, reflex, beauty and presence of the heroine. It scared me horribly.

My tentacles rushed her in a disoriented ensemble, tearing her costume in their hurry to overwhelm the girl. They twisted around her arms, seized her hips and spread her legs. A furious shout echoed from her mouth but I left it alone as she fiercely struggled, my focus briefly split anchoring myself at the building when she tried to rise, then pressed the tentacles pulling her pants down and destroying her panties to hurry. They did so in those horrifying long seconds then charged into Glory's pussy and ass as she screamed and trashed. I ravaged her depths with rapid strokes, entirely focused on bringing the tentacles to climax rather than the heroine pleasure.

Release came in an explosion of arousing substance and Glory Girl's startled scream devolved into a gargle as one of my tentacle finally silent her mouth. The heroine's struggle weakened enough for me to secure my hold and keep the feared beating in the future. She slumped a little even as my tentacles inside halted in exhaustion. I knew there was no chance the girl could fight after a first experience with the aphrodisiac substance. My own first time had left me floored for hours. On the heels of relief came the realization that I had just fucked a hero.

My brain crashed.

It rebooted with me catching sight of Glory Girl's now naked body, only stripes of her costume remaining after the tentacles fought to held her. Her ample bosom hung right before me and her legs spread apart let me easily see her tentacle-filled pussy. Reason struggled against the sight and the feeling of my tentacles touching Glory Girl's, of her face flushed at the sudden arousal she found herself in, of Tattletale whose body behind me was still being fucked by tentacles. My mind ceased working again but even then a silver of principle held me back.

It was crushed by Glory Girl's presence. The sheer aura that seemed to radiate from her, that turned her body from merely beautiful to the sexiest and greatest rack on Earth and beyond. Right there I admired the awe-inspiring that could only be admired and felt my tentacles inside her telling me how I had ravished it and still did. It was too much and robbed my ability to think. Unable, and in this state unwilling, to consider anything my body and my tentacles advanced toward the heroine.

I dived into her breasts with my own body, licking and molesting the things even as the naked girl's moan slaughtered the rest of my coherence. We both flew above the ground supported by her power which was thoroughly exciting me. Her inhumanely strong arms and legs pulled against the tentacles, the pressure both terrifying and arousing. Her mouth was nowhere as pleasurable as Tattletale, notably because her teeth had enough strength to hurt my tentacle and I had to gag her instead. Her pussy however, oh Lord, Glory Girl's pussy. Her ass hadn't seen much use which made things difficult, but the inhuman pressure was mind-melting.

Her pussy was on another level. It opened wider and responded with experience to my enlarged tentacle, it broke my mind so much that I didn't remember when I started rubbing my own lower entrance against the heroine's left nipple. I emptied tentacles into the girl's body and it just didn't stop coming. I fucked, fucker her and fucker her again sandwiched between the moaning bodies of the villain Tattletale and the heroine Glory Girl. Inspiration stuck me further and led me to shrink the next tentacle to enter Glory Girl. I added a second shrunk one, then a third when I realized it wasn't enough.

The three tentacles went into the girl's, so wonderful, pussy together and grew to fill the heroine lower parts until my white substance couldn't overspill from her anymore. I pressed the tentacles against the warm flesh, twisting and entwining them inside her body like it was the only thing worth dying, surviving and living for all at once. I fucked her as I came and did again, and again till both blond girls were drenched in my fluids and too tired to even moan. My own mind fell apart between their bosom as my tentacles emptied and exhaustion left me unable to keep going anymore.

I kidnapped them away to a warehouse as soon as I was awake, panicking about fucking a heroine, worried at both girls, and wondering how a straight black-hair loving girl like me had ended up fucking to sleep two blonde girls with ample bosoms.

Taylor Gets Revenge

(Автор: DoggySou)

Alan sat on his desk, looking at the letter and thumb drive that was delivered to him in the mail. A smile crept on his face, then faded.

She's alive.

He took the thumbrive and plugged it into his laptop, then reread the letter sent to him.

'I know of your daughter's wherabouts. Here's some evidence.

signed, Anonymous'

The USB drive stopped uploading, and as he opened the file his heart sank. There were video files, thirty of them. Each was at least an hour long, some reaching into 5 hours of footage.

Emma had been gone for over a month, disappearing in early June. Alan Zoe and Anne spent over a month of waiting, hoping that she didn't die when the S9 attacked the Bay while they cowered in their homes. She was safe, but there was only one conclusion to the volume of footage that was here; Emma was kidnapped.

He closed his eyes for a second, took a breath and then clicked the first video.


* * *

Day 1: 1:20:34 June 10.

"Let me go! Let me go you fucking crazy bitch!"

Emma stood there, chained to something without a shred of clothing. From head to toe she was naked, but her lack of modesty didn't phase her at all. A figure in costume walked into view of the camera.

"I'm helping you, Emma. The Nine are hiring, and Burnscar's test is to kill someone you love the most. I'm protecting you. Shadow Stalker can't find you here."

Emma flinched at that mention.

"S-Shadow Stalker transfered, the PRT said so."

"No, she's actually he-"

"You know that's bullshit," Emma scoffed. "Fuck you."

There was a silence that filled the air, only emphasised with the rattling of the chains that bound Emma to a standing position. Suddenly, the air was filled with a laugh that was growing in volume. The costumed figure who's wavy brown hair flew out behind her mask laughed, and began clapping in applause.

"You got me. She's not a recruit and you aren't here for your own protection. In fact, Shadow Stalker's here right now with Regent. She ruined his favourite couch, apparently. Want to make a guess why you are here?"

"You were born ugly and wanted to see what rea-"

Emma reeled from the slap as much as she could.

"So I'm rig-"

Another, harder.

"That's why," the costumed figure said. "I want to hit you. I want to leave bruises on you. I want to make you cry out in pain, and if you ever manage to escape I want you to fear falling asleep for the fact that I will be there every night waiting for you to come back to me wherever you are, Emma."

The costumed figure turned to face the camera; Skitter. She moved away from the camera. A fuffling could be heard and Emma began to panic.

"W-what are those! What is that!"

"Thank you Atlas."

Skitter returned, holding a tupperware box. There was a small mass of insects inside.

"These are Bullet ants. They sting you and for the next twenty four hours you feel like you've been shot. They can sting as many times as I will them."

She opened the tupperware and the ants poured out, climbing onto Emma before resting on her breasts and mound. Emma tried her hardest to shake the ants off, but her chains were too tight for her to do so. She couldn't even close her legs.

"I'm going to torture you," Skitter announced quietly. "And I'll keep doing it because I'm a villain, and villains do villainous things."

Emma started screaming and thrashing wildly.

"Stop, stop! Please! Oh god! it hurts, stop it!"

"Hurts, doesn't it? That was one sting on your clit. I'll do it until they dry up unless you can apologize."

"I'm sorr-aah! Sorry! Please!"

Skitter walked over, picked up a book and chair and sat down, opening it. She then pulled off her mask, still facing away from the camera.

Emma looked even more terrified than she was when the bugs were pulled out.

"This book has a long list of things you did Emma," Skitter said as she flicked to the beginning. "Not just you but since you were the ringmaster, I thought it would be okay if you did the apologies for them while they are absent."

"Oh god," Emma muttered, trying to reach for her pussy. "Please... Don't."

"August the first, 2008. You broke all of my pencils, one by one."

Emma looked at Skitter in the eyes. "No, Ta-"

She didn't finish before she was bitten yet again.

"Fuck! I'm sorry! I'm sorry okay!"

"Say it like you fucking mean it!" roared the villainess in response.

The youngest daughter of the Barnes was silent.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"Breaking your... Breaking you pencils one by one. I'm sorry for that," Emma said softly, gasping for breath between sobs and hics.

Tears dripped off her chin from the pain.

"Good. Now, August the first, 2008. Sophia kicked my in the back of the leg. I had a bruise."

"I'm sorry for Sophia kicking you on the leg."

"August the First, 2008. Sophia shoved me against the stairway railing. I hurt my hand."

"I'm sorry that Sophia made you hurt your hand. Please, I'm sorry, I'll say I am so take them off."

Emma screamed out in pain again. The video continued for over an hour until the last five minutes where Skitter closed the book.

No. From where Taylor closed the book. That's where these attacks came from. Alan remembered that.


* * *

Day 4: 2:23:06 June 15

There was someone different in this video. A woman with red and green colouring.

A former ABB Goon.

Emma was tied to a post with rope, which told Alan that she was at least getting exercize but the ABB member had a knife to Emma's neck. The sound of his daughter pleading filled the air.

"Please no please please no..."

"Shut up or I'll cut you. I still didn't get to hear your choice."

The air was filled with a buzz. "Choice?"

Emma smirked. She was triumphant, even as a captive. A small part made Alan proud.

"It seems you have history. Tell me."

The asian woman panicked. "I'll cut her throat!"

"I don't care, I'll just replace her with you," the buzzing from Skitter's swarm coldly countered.

"Go on Yan, try it. Free me." Emma spat on Yan and she took a step back, growling at Emma.

"Emma, I didn't give you permission to speak. Apologize."

Alan realized who that Asian woman was at hearing her name. She was one of the attackers from all those years ago.

"I'm sorry for speaking, Skitter."

"Good. Now apologize to Yan for spitting on her."

Emma's smile fell instantly.

"Please, you can't be-"

Something stung Emma and she shrieked.

"I'm sorry Yan, I shouldn't have done so!"

Yan chuckled at that. She turned to see Taylor — Skitter come into view.

"Now, I'm of two minds here. I want to hear how you two met, and I want to punish both of you fittingly," Taylor said, a small swarm grabbing at Yan. She took a few steps towards Emma. "I won't kill you, but I'll bring you to hell and back if you hurt her without my permission."

The words sunk in. Without Taylor's permission. Emma's look of despair was the same as Alan's.

"Emma will tell me the story in detail." Taylor looked at Alan's daughter.

"Well, remember when you were at camp? W-well I was attacked when you were on the phone. They dragged me out and tried to rape me and cut me."

"Explain," Taylor said, making a motion as her head moved to Yan for a second. Yan visibly paled at that.

"They wanted to take me away, but changed their m-minds," Emma said, beginning to sob. "They decided to cut my face."

"They didn't."

"They wanted me to choose. Eye, both Ears, my nose or m-my mouth," Emma muttered, growing quiet. The bugs were becoming agitated.

"I don't need to hear the rest," Taylor said. Yan moved to attack but she was brought down nearly instantly by the villainess.

She took a moment to grab and wrestle the knife off of Yan, and moved her head to face Emma.

"Choose."

"Oh god," Emma muttered. "You can't be serious."

"Choose."


* * *

Day 13: 1:26:31 June 24

Skitter was n the chair with the book again.

"This is the last year, leading up to when I triggered. You ready for it?"

Emma was dead inside, no longer fighting. She just looked directly onto at the camera. Her hear was a mess, unwashed and unclean. Her skin was covered in bruises, and she had been carved at some point with 'Skitter', and it had healed in a way that wasn't coming out. She even had a couple tattoos on her body; 'Stupid girl', 'Mine' and 'backstabbing whore' were easy to read, even if Emma's skin was dirty.

"Yes, Mistress."

Skitter opened the book and Alan closed the file, skipping to the last one.


* * *

Day 30: 4:57:64 July 11

Emma was seated on a bed wearing nothing but tattoos, several rings on all of her genitals and a collar that was connected to something off screen by a golden chain. She simply sat facing the camera, smiling.

She had a new tattoo. Her forehead had 'Taylor's bitch' written in an elaborate font. Alan spared a glance at her collar and say that there was a nametag that had 'slut' engraved on it.

"So," the off-screen voice that was clearly Taylor's asked. "You want to say goodbye?"

Emma looked up at where Taylor must have been standing. "What, we can't make more videos?" she pouted. Alan noticed the glimmer of a peicing on her tongue, and clenched his fists. Taylor's ruined his daughter's body and mind.

"Nope, we just want to say goodbye," Taylor said happily.

"Hi dad!" Emma smiled while waving at the camera. If it wasn't for the tattoo, her state of undress and what context Alan was given, he's have sworn she was genuinely happy.

"Go on!" she urged.

"Well, um... You were a bad parent, and I made really stupid choices because I'm a dumb bitch. I'm glad Mistress was around though. She gave me a row and made me better. She says that if I don't make decisions I won't be so stupid anymore. Mistress is going to make all my choices from now on, like when to eat and what to wear."

"Don't wear anything by the way," Taylor cut in. Emma giggled.

"Yes, Mistress. If I end up making my own choices I might do something stupid and get people hurt, so I'm staying here."

Emma moved and showed off her hands. One had a Simurgh tattoo on it.

"She gave me this cause I'm an awful person who should be locked away. Bye dad!"

"Don't say bye yet!" Taylor snapped as she walked into view. She was naked too.

"Oh!" Emma gasped. "I'm sorry for being so stupid again, Mistress."

Taylor simply grabbed Emma's chain and wrestled her onto the bed as she shrieked and giggled. They maneuvered so that Taylor was facing the camera while sitting on Emma's face.

Taylor made a face and then looked down on Emma and scolded her. "Hey! Not yet."

"Mmphrry," mumbled Emma. Taylor smiled and looked down before looking back at the camera.

"Hey Alan, Your stupid daughter's doing fine right now," Taylor said, wiggling her crotch into Emma's face for emphasis. "She's going to spend a long life with me and she'll be happy for it, not fucking up every chance she gets. Anyway, I'm going to show you what I've been training her to do, if you wactched all the other vids. Do it." And with that Emma started licking, and Taylor moaned softly. She leaned back and began playing with Emma's rings before moving her other hand through Emma's red hair and grabbing it.

"Oh wow, that's great."

Emma reached up and grabbed Taylor's tits with both her hands, pulling on her nipples gently before flicking them. Taylor in turn stoped playing with Emma's nipple rings and leaned forwards to grab her hair in both of her hands. She began grinding her face into Emma's head on the bed.

"You know when she broke?" Taylor asked the camera, her voice heavy as Emma began moaning.

"When I carved my name into her stomach with Yan's knife. Yan's still around you see. I cut everything that Emma didn't pick, then I cut your precious little daughter's ears off because that's what she chose. Now she knows to never listen to anyone but me, because I'm the one with her ears."

Taylor gasped in orgasm, then paused for a moment, panting. She let go of Emma, and slowly got up. Alan looked on in horror as thin tendrils of fluid leaked from Taylor to Emma as Taylor got off the bed.

"Okay, now masturbate like you practiced."

"Yes, Mistress!"

Emma quickly got up and moved to face the camera. She quickly began rubbbing herself and as she did so she began speaking.

"I'm Emma Barnes, and I'm stupid. I can't do anything right at all. I couldn't keep a friendship right, cause I'm a stupid bitch. I'm so stupid the ABB didn't want to keep me as one of their sluts." Emma leaned forwards, panting.

She looked back at the camera.

"I'm so stupid I stole homework. I'm so stupid that I make stupid choices in friends. I'm so stupid I went out and tried to be a hero and cried when people got hurt. I'm so stupid I make everything worse for everyone."

Tears began to drip from her eyes. "I'm just a dumb bitch. I'm just stupid. I'm sorry I can't do anything right! It's not my fault I'm an idiot."

Her breath hitched and she stopped fondling herself.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it! I didn't know what I was thinking! I'm just an idiot..."

Taylor came back into view again, this time wearing a strapon.

"It's alright," she cooed. "You aren't terrible at everything."

"I-I'm not?" Emma asked, glancing down at the dildo sticking out from Taylor's crotch.

Taylor simply grabbed Emma's collar and positioned herself behind his daughter, climbing onto the bed to face the camera.

"Nope. For instance; you haven't been fucked yet so I can't say you are terrible at that, and you give great head. Say bye to Mom and Dad, Emma."

Emma looked at the camera, and Taylor slid the dildo in. Emma's face contorted in pain for a moment before she smiled and began waving.

"Bye Mom, bye Dad!"

The remainder of the video was Taylor pounding Emma into orgasm in several different positions, showing off her new tattoos, carvings and piercings.


* * *

Alan sat there, unsure of what to do.

Taming The Bee

(Автор: CptTagon)

The driver pulled into the covered garage, and parked the car. As I got out of the back, he backed out and started driving back to my base. I would be getting a ride back from a different source. Now that I would be staying in one spot for more than half an hour, I started drawing all the bugs in range to me, nestling them on rooftops, and bringing them in through the drains. I walked in through the door, moving all my swarm to my favored places.

As I moved through the base, I could smell the dinner being made in the kitchen. I could smell sausage sizzling, and the wholesome smell of veggies roasting. Lisa sure knew how to hire good cooks, even if she wasn't much in the cooking department herself. As I passed by the kitchen, I could see RenИe bustling around. He said he was from one of the finest schools in Paris, but I had heard him talking in a Brooklyn accent on the phone once.

I paused outside the door to the dining room, and adjusted my yellow and black dress. It was a good thing I didn't have a secret identity anymore, or I could never have worn something so obviously insect-themed, even if it was a Christmas present from Sabah. Satisfied that the dress was smooth, and showed off what little of me was worth looking at, I stepped through the door.

Lisa sat at the head of the table, the candlelight making the skin exposed by her shoulderless, black dress shine. The smile she gave me was even brighter, though, as she looked up from the salad she was picking at.

"Taylor, I'm glad you're here. RenИe should be ready in a few minutes." I pulled out a chair next to her, and sat down. "So, how was your day?" As if she didn't know already, both from her power, and

the ten e-mails we had sent each other and the rest of the team.

We exchanged small talk about our day, the other Undersiders, and various other topics as the meal went on. Even though we didn't touch on any really important topics, I still counted that hour as more enjoyable and meaningful then any of the one that had preceded it. Finally, we were left with full bellies among the ruins of an excellent dinner. Snagging some mint sorbets, I led Lisa upstairs to her bedroom.

She ended up sprawled on her bed, while I plopped down onto the swivel chair she kept in front of her computer. I could feel a dull heat in my stomach over what we would be doing on her bed, but for now, we needed to let the quiche and vegetables settle. It would rather ruin the mood if one of us vomited on the other, after all. I turned to Lisa's computer, and decided to pass the time watching cat videos on YouTube, with Lisa getting up to peer over my shoulder. Half an hour later, she excused herself to go take a shower.

When she got back, her arrival heralded by the clicking of her high-heeled boots, I had taken off the dress, and folded it over the back of the chair, and taken the equipment out from under her bed. Just standing there in my black bra and panties was embarrassing, and more importantly, chilly. Still the shiver I had when Lisa looked me over wasn't entirely due to the cold. Lisa stared up at my face with a raised eyebrow.

"Why are you wearing clothes, girl? I thought I was very clear, you only get to wear what I tell you, when I tell you." I flushed, but remained silent. "Well, if words don't do the job, maybe pain will. You've been having this come for a while, girly." She stepped forward, and pushed me down to the bed. Sitting next to me, she flipped me over, and sidled underneath me, so that my lower stomach was on her lap. My side rubbed against the leather corset she was wearing, and I could feel the grid pattern in her stockings.

It had taken a long time for Lisa to be ready to do this sort of thing with me, both for her to get a better handle on her power, and accept all my nasty little secrets. It had taken just as long for me to accept her, to really trust her. But the feeling of security I had when she was on top of me, knowing that even though I couldn't fight back, she would still love me and take care of me? That made those eight long months' worth it. As Lisa's hand caressed my bottom, I focused on what she was saying.

"Now then, you've been a bad girl. I'm going to have to discipline you." Smack! Her palm came down on my right cheek. "That was for still wearing your underwear when I got back from the shower." Smack! My left cheek that time. "And that was for wearing such a naughty dress at dinner." Smack! "And that was for, let's see, putting your elbows on the table while eating." After half a dozen or so more, Lisa couldn't be bothered to think of any more imaginary transgressions, and stopped. My ass was tingling, but I made sure not to even squeak once.

Lisa picked up a bottle of lotion from the collection of toys and equipment, and started rubbing some onto my rear. It didn't really hurt, but the soft touch was still welcome. She worked her hand lower, lightly brushing against my folds.

"What's this? Are you wet, you naughty girl? Did you get excited over being punished for being bad? Well, let's see if we can't get those nasty thoughts out of your head." Lisa's words would have been more intimidating if I couldn't hear the smile in them. Still, I recognized my cue.

"Oh please, Mistress. I'll be good, I promise." Like her, I couldn't stop myself from smiling through my blush.

"Did I say you could talk?" Sighing, she stood up, letting me slide off onto her covers. She picked up a ball gag, a birthday gift for her from Aisha, and turned towards me. "Young missy, if you won't stay quiet on your own, I'll have to give you some assistance." Kneeling by my head, she quickly got the bright red ball part in, and secured the straps around the back of my head. We had both shared a laugh when we got it over the gag being used on me, when Lisa was the one who couldn't shut up.

Lisa then cuffed my arms and legs to the bed posts with some black leather restraints, pausing to run a hand through my hair. Sitting back, she admired her handiwork. My legs were spread, showing off my pussy, with a thin line of hair pointing down towards it. My nipples were poking above my barely-there breasts. Moving her eyes up my body, Lisa paused and smiled at me.

"Even if you are a nasty girl, at least you have a good body to make up for it." Leaning down, she started kissing my neck, while massaging my left breast with one hand, and circling my lower lips with her other, while rubbing her hips against my thigh. I moaned through the gag. It was so unfair, using her power to figure out where my weak spots where.

After who knows how long, she had kissed, licked, and nipped all the weak spots in range of her mouth, had switched between my breasts two times, and had my pussy soaking. As she sat up, I noticed that there was a wet spot on my leg, and that her cheeks were so flushed I could barely see her freckles. Pausing to catch her breath, she reached down and picked up a pink, double-ended dildo. Raising herself to make sure I got a good view, she slowly slid her end into her vagina, smiling as I blushed.

"Oh, is the naughty girl getting some nasty ideas? Well, you better be ready missy." She grabbed the end of the toy that was sticking out, and guided it into me. I groaned around the gag, feeling the dildo stretching me, and filling me up. Lisa slowly lowered herself down, till our breasts were flattened against each other, though that was a lot more noticeable for her then for me. As she worked an arm between me and the mattress, she gently slid the fake cock out of me, until only the tip was left inside. Then she just as slowly slid it back in.

Working her arm around to the back of my head, she undid the ball gag, but kissed me before I could say anything. I moaned into her mouth, the feeling from my hips too sublime to put into words. As she cradled my head, she slipped her tongue into my mouth, making certain I couldn't say anything.

As her hips started to pound into mine, driving the toy deep inside me every time, my own hips started to buck in return. My limbs strained at their bindings, while Lisa seemed intent on stealing the very air from my lungs. Finally, she broke the kiss, before throwing her head back and crying out. Her thrusts sped into a climax, driving me into my own. As I screamed out her name, she slumped back down on top of me, her hips slowly stopping, leaving the dildo halfway inside me.

She reached down, and pulled the toy all the way out, leaving it to rest between our bellies. Sighing, she then wrapped her arms around me in a hug. As I moved some insects to grab the keys to the handcuffs, she nuzzled her face against my neck.

"Well? Did you learn your lesson?" I smiled, and put my right arm against her back before answering.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be good from now on." Lisa hugged me tighter, and leaned up to kiss me on the lips. As I had the rest of my swarm tug the blankets over us, I snuggled closer to my girlfriend. I may

already have a ton of work to do tomorrow, but for now, all I had to do was be with Lisa.

As I drifted off to sleep, I could just hear Lisa mutter something.

"I 've you, Taylor."

Highly SKilled

(Автор: Ziel)

Kid Win leaned over the back of the couch in the Wards' room.

"Hey Aegis, I've got a question."

The dark-skinned boy looked up from his book. "Yeah?"

"CB and I were talking, and we got to wondering," Kid said. "About-"

"About Skitter." Clockblocker interrupted from across the room.

"About Skitter," Kid repeated. "And uh... her talent. You've fought her a bunch, but it never seems like it bugs you."

"Ahhh," Aegis nodded knowingly. "I get you."

He turned on the couch so he could speak equally to Kid Win and Clockblocker at the same time.

"The thing with Skitter is," Aegis gestured vaguely at his own chest, emphasizing a set of curves he didn't have. "Sure, she's got a lot up top. Imagine for me, that glorious cleavage. Sweet, supple teenage flesh, barely restrained by her skin-tight costume. No bra can hold it, and she doesn't even bother. She flaunts it."

Kid and Clockblocker both nodded along with Aegis, their eyes far away, both of them drooling a little.

"And so you've got that amazing set of womanly assets. And then you look closer, and you realize that dead center, all snuggly and warm between Skitter's breasts, is a spider the size of your fist."

Kid Win and Clockblocker both cringed, their fantasies shattered in an instant. Aegis turned back to his book. "And that's why I'm not bothered by them."

"Also," He added. "I'm gay, so that helps."

Using What You Got

(Автор: volantredx)

"You say that," Sophia said from her spot on the chair nearby. "And yet I'm gay and I have the opposite problem."

Dennis opened his mouth, but before he could speak Aegis put a hand on his shoulder.

"No, let her figure that one out on her own." He said smirking.

Edit:

Bonus scene:

Having just driven off Siberian Taylor and Lisa discuss how to get Amy on their side.

"You're the one with all the plans," Skitter pointed out. "I'm out of ideas."

"Well, she's into girls." Tattletale said slowly.

"Yeah? So? What's that got to..." Skitter trailed off noticing Tattletale's stare. "Oh, um I'm not really sure."

"You don't have to sleep with her. Just let her have a little look." The blond paused, "Maybe let her get a good feel."

A few minutes later Amy had officially joined the Undersiders.

Edit:

Bonus Bonus scene

Amy had tried to wait, but Vicky had been taking forever. Any longer and they'll be late for the charity event.

"Hey Vicky, you in here?" She asked entering her sister's room. "I think we need to-oh god."

Standing in front of her full length mirror was her sister. What made this different was what Victoria was wearing. Amy had seen her sister in dozens of outfits over the years, but this one? This one topped them all when it came to sending hot spikes of arousal through her body. Giant knee high boots, what looked like a bikini bottom for pants and a corset. All pure white. Amy didn't even know that Vicky owned this sort of thing. It would have made the last few dreams a lot more interesting.

After what seemed like forever Vicky finally seemed to notice Amy behind her.

"Oh hey sis, what do you think?" She asked giving a twirl.

'You don't want to know what I'm thinking' Amy said in her mind. Out loud she responded, "I'm not sure what to think. Why are you dressed like that."

"Just thought I would try it out. Go for a change of pace."

"A change of pace?" Amy was really starting to get confused.

"Yeah, the classic look has worked so far but I'm almost 18. Time for Glory Girl to grow up a bit."

"Wait you mean that's going to be your uniform?" At her sister's nod Amy started to imagine seeing Vicky beat up bad guys dressed like that. Then she started to imagine her flying Amy around dressed like that. Then finally she started to wonder if she could plead out of leaving to spend some alone time in her room exploring that image more. Snapping herself out of it she realized something.

"Wait thins doesn't have to do with that bug girl does it?"

"No!"

Amy merely raised an eyebrow.

"Ok fine, but have you heard what people are saying? 'Hottest new cape in Brockton.' 'The Undersiders' newest temptress' 'Like that Goth Chick from high school started running around in costume.' It's not fair. She's not hot. She just a tramp. I'll show them hot."

"Oh Vicky, you don't need to run around looking like the cover to some metal album to look hot."

"You mean it?"

"Damn straight. you'd look good in anything. Now come here and give me a hug."

Vicky beamed and pulled Amy into a tight embrace. "You're the best sister ever Ames."

They stayed like that for a long moment before Vicky gave a light cough.

"Um Amy, hands."

"Right, sorry."

CYOA-Gnosis

(Автор: NaughtyBanette)

Part 1

Skitter Mode (0)

Apprentice Gnosis (3)

Comic Book Pretty (1)

Case 53 (-2)

Wildbow? What's a Wildbow? (-2)

Things got worse: Mini-endbringers (-2)

For Want of a Nail: No Scion (1)

For Want of a Nail: ??? (1)

"This must be..." I muse to myself, taking in my surroundings with a muted interest, "The strangest trip I've ever been on."

Which isn't really saying much, as I've never taken drugs before. But the things I've seen, and am seeing, are all so... There's really no words for it. I remember grand towers, schools of flying prismatic fish, rivers of molten lead, and walking across roads of time itself.

That was a fun experience.

Now? Now I'm not entirely sure what I'm seeing, only that I'm seeing far too much of it. I can see someone standing in front of me, only... No, that's not someone, that's me. I can see myself, because I can see the reflection of me in the mirror behind me. Some kind of 360 degree vision?

More than that, I can see so much more than I could before. I can see ultraviolet light (my new favorite color), and other forms of radiation. I can see the radio waves coming through the walls, thrown indiscriminately from some far off cell tower. If I focus—

"-Don't stop, believing!" I can even hear the radio, even though there's no radio to hear.

I need to sit down. This is all... Way too much. I should be freaking out, but I'm relatively convinced this is all some kind of fever dream. Closing my eyes doesn't really help much either. Somehow I'm still completely aware of my surroundings, and the detail only grows as I focus on it. I can tell the exact distance between me and any object. I can tell how old the object is, how it works, and that the locker three point four meters ahead of me to my north-north-east has a hidden compartment full of cannabis.

I can tell exactly how many bugs are in the room, where they are, what their species is and how old they are.

I know the exact time, both relative (April 8th 2010) and in seconds since the planet formed.

This knowledge. Why do I have all this knowledge?

Opening my eyes again I stand up and turn around. There's no need, really. I can look in the mirror without turning, and I can look down at myself without even moving my head, but I want to take comfort in doing human things.

Especially since I don't look human anymore.

This should bother me. Really, this should bother me far more than it seems to be, and yet all I can think of is that I pull this look off Damn well.

I'm female. That much I can tell even without turning my sight on myself, but when I do I'm flooded with information. Definitely female, I don't know what I was expecting really, but also non-human. Well, I'm humanoid at least, and genetically similar. Closer to a human than a chimpanzee is, really, which says something, though I'm not sure what.

Pale green skin, coated with soft scales that feel smooth to the touch. My hair is a shade of brownish green, long and thick and wavy as it rolls down over my shoulders. It's beautiful, and I take a moment to run a hand through it. None of the rest of my body has hair at all, and my... Powers? They tell me I'll probably never grow any.

The most striking feature, however, is my eyes. They're a solid gold color, with no separation between the sclera and iris. I'd wonder how I was seeing at all if it weren't readily obvious I didn't need eyes to see.

The rest of me looked like it was sculpted by someone's idealized beauty. Thin and muscular, with a round bottom and full breasts. Even a set of full lips, a darker shade of green than the rest of my face. Squinting a bit, I find that yes, I even appear to have a smattering of dark green freckles. They're really just cosmetic scales, but they give my face a rather cute look.

At a glance I'd place my age at around 15 or 16. My time powers, however, put me at about... 14 minutes and counting.

What the hell.

Alright, what do I know then? No name, no reliable age, no memories of friends or family. I've no idea where I am, nor where I was before this. Strangely enough, as one part of my mind sorts through the various gaps in my personal memory, the other ramps up through the rest of it. I can remember school, at least. College level classes in anatomy, multivariable calculus, physics, lots of... Lots of relatively useless throwaway trivia.

Either I'm a genius 15 year old, or I was older before coming here. Not that I know where here is, other than 'A locker room'.

At that, I start to wander about, inwardly praying that this is in fact a girl's locker room. The lockers are all sturdy, too sturdy to break, so I can't exactly steal a set of clothing. There's a sort of cultural numbness there though. This doesn't really feel like my body, so I don't really mind being naked.

Of course, getting groped and stared at would be inconvenient.

"Emma~! Come look at this! It's a new one!" There's a sing-song voice coming from the other side of the locker room. How did I not notice there were people here? Am I already becoming reliant on these powers? At that thought alone my awareness extends to fill the entirety of the changing area, including the toilets at the far end of the showers. "It's long and thin and kind of knobbly!"

The voice comes from a girl around my apparent age, who's on her knees in one of the far bathroom stalls. There's a hole in the wall there, and I inwardly wonder who or what made the wall between the boy's and girl's side so thin for such a hole to be viable. The girl is currently in the midst of fellating the cock of a young boy, probably a ninth grader judging by my powers.

Almost immediately I get a head full of information about him, including most pertinently that he's about to—

There's a happy squeak of surprise as the boy fires off a watery load into the girl's mouth. She happily catches it all before swallowing it down and leaning back. Fixated on her I learn a lot about the girl as well.

She's fifteen years, three months, two weeks, three days, four hours, fifteen minutes and seven seconds old. Largely irrelevant.

She's in good health, and that was certainly not the first load she's swallowed today. Her stomach has more semen than food in it at the moment. She's also incredibly aroused.

"Oh man... I'm getting full. You sure you don't want a turn?" The girl calls to her friend, who's standing over by the sinks applying make-up. Of the two, the girl in the stalls is the traditional 'cute' girl, with short brown hair a thin build and a round face. The one by the sinks, Emma, is a beauty with voluptuous curves and red hair.

"I'm not really in the mood."The girl waves off her friend's offer, instead rifling through her purse. "How much have you made today?"

"Hm? Oh, right..." The cute girl looks down at the pile of bills on the floor. A sizable sum of money that she counts out as an afterthought. "Uh, a hundred and eighty dollars. Wow, I sucked off nine guys already? I'm on a roll today."

What to do, what to do... "Do you know what's taking Sophia so long?" The cute one continues, her fingers dipping down under her skirt to rub at herself. I can tell, somehow, that it doesn't really do much for her.

"Work stuff." Emma replies shortly, walking towards my direction. Without realizing it, I've been walking towards them, and now I don't have anywhere I can hide. "Fucking school, why is it getting so god damn cold in here? I thought they fixed the heaters!"

"Hmm, I dunno." Her friend replies absently, climbing up onto the toilet and leaning back, actually openly masturbating with the door still open. "Hey, uh... I know it's not really your thing, but could you-"

Whatever she's about to say is cut off as the redhead, Emma, rounds the corner and catches sight of me. "Hello." I put on my best shy smile, a little bit out of my depth at this point. "I don't suppose you've got a spare set of clothing I can borrow? I seem to have misplaced... Myself."


* * *

Part 2

"Madison?" The girl in front of me attempts to remain calm, but I can tell by her... 'Aura?' she's more than a little panicked.

"Hmm?" The voice calls back from around the corner. She's not really paying attention, two fingers knuckle deep inside of herself.

"Could you please stop fucking yourself and get over here?" There's a certain sternness in the redhead's voice that makes the girl obey. She skips over, not even bothering to put her underwear on, and stops cold upon sighting me.

"Holy shit. She's gorgeous, where'd you find her?" Madison gushes, her eyes widening.

"She's a fucking monster cape." Emma hisses back, covering her mouth with her hand. "What do we do?"

"I know what I want to do." Madison giggles, wincing when her friend gives her a slap on the rear. The cuter girl's aura changes minutely away from pure arousal, and she reassesses the situation. "Oh, right, hi, I'm Madison." Her hand comes out, still slick from her earlier activities. I eye it for a moment before she withdraws it sheepishly.

"I'd introduce myself, but I really don't know who I am." I shrug, feeling rather out of my depth.

"Right. Well, I'm Emma, and uh... How about we get you some clothes." The redhead smiles weakly, shooing her friend around the corner. There's a bunch of hushed conversations between them that I largely tune out, in favor of listening to the radio. As far as powers go, the mundane utility of mine was rather neat.

"C'mon, pick up pick up..." I tune back in as Emma pulls out a phone, absently listening to the call as the cell signal stands out. "Sophia, we've got a fucking emergency."

"What is it? I'm super busy right now. If Aegis catches me on the phone-"

"There's a fucking monster cape at school. A new one. In the god damn locker room with me." Emma hisses.

"No shit? That's... Alright, I'll get everyone over there ASAP, you just... Keep it calm, talk to it, answer whatever questions it has. Try to find out what its powers are." The girl on the other end instructs, hanging up shortly.

"Heya!" Madison pops around the corner, seeming to deflate a little when I don't act surprised. "Found you a towel. I'd get you my gym clothes, but those are in my regular locker. This'll do for now, right?"

"Sure." I accept the cloth and wrap it around my torso, trying to think of it as a simple dress or something.

"Holy crap! That's the coolest power ever!" Madison gushes, and I look down at the piece of cloth.

"Wearing clothing is a super power?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"You didn't just change it into a dress?" She blinks, looking really hard at it. Huh... I could alter people's perception of clothing? Or something?

"Not really. It's still a towel." I explain, pondering the implications.

"That's pretty cool though. I mean, if you weren't green, that'd help a lot with your disguise. You could make your costume look like normal clothes." Emma points out, rejoining the conversation. "What else can you do?"

"I can see a lot. Like... Way more than anyone should probably be able to see." Not even including the things I can see that make no sense at all. I'm wondering if I'm schizophrenic on top of my powers.

"Like what?" Madison presses.

"Hmm... General health for one." I explain, turning towards Emma. "You've been having really bad cramps lately, right?"

She nods uncertainly. "There's a very small cyst on your left ovary. Probably nothing life threatening, but it's causing a lot of the pain."

"Wow, uh... Thanks. Can you fix it?"

"Not right now. I'm not comfortable enough with my powers to try something like that." I turn towards Madison, who looks at me with hopeful eyes. "You... There's no really polite way to say this, but there's something," Wrong! "off with your mind."

She winces a little but nods. "Yeah, that'd be uh... Hmm, you don't know about Nilbog, do you?"

"I don't really know much about anything around here." You supply.

"A long time ago this villain Nilbog took over an entire city, turning everyone into sex-crazed monsters. Like, nymphomaniacle cat-girls and tentacle beasts and... yeah. They'd catch people and convert them into more monsters with repeated exposure." Madison explains. "So the Protectorate went in and killed Nilbog. It was a huge mess, but the resulting riots from all of the monsters made the spill out into the rest of America. They rounded up all of the ones they could, but some slipped through."

"Okay..." You try to picture it, it does sound pretty damn awful.

"One of them got me when I was younger. It wasn't a long exposure, so I didn't physically change and it's not contagious, but..." Huh, that'd explain it, is suppose.

"So it's kind of like sexual lycanthropy?" My inner nerd coming out.

"Yeah, sort of. It made puberty absolute hell on me and my family. Can you imagine how embarrassed they were, picking out toys for their child so she stays sane?" She giggles. "Emma and Sophia know, and they help me out when they can."

"That's nice of them." I admit, looking at the blushing Emma.

"Yep! They're great friends."

"Right, so... Uh..."

"Oh, right, I guess we should fill you in on stuff."

-One long exposition later-

"And that's where you come in, I guess. You're a cape, but you're what people refer to as a Case 53. Someone with out of the ordinary physical features and no memories." Emma explains.

"Yep. Common theory is you're the human form of an endbringer." Madison supplies, getting a glare from Emma. "What? I'm not saying it's a bad thing, but there's studies done. An endbringer attacks somewhere, the capes kill it, a case 53 shows up. There's a pattern."

"An endbringer hits somewhere in America like once a day. That's nothing to make a pattern off of." Emma replies.

"Endbringer? That sounds pretty damn ominous." I pipe up, picturing massive godzilla sized monsters attacking.

"Well, the name was made for the big three, Leviathan, Behemoth, and the Simurgh. The smaller ones that attack all the time can be dangerous, but they aren't as durable." Emma explains.

"It's a good thing though, isn't it? We kill an endbringer, and we get another cape on our side." Madison grins.

"Except most of them become villains." Emma grumbles. "And idiots out there think killing case 53's will somehow harm the endbingers."

"Oh boy." I sigh, leaning back against the lockers. "Someone's coming." I announce, noticing another living person in the hall outside. The first I've seen in a while. "Female, around your age, curly hair, rather scrawny."

"Taylor." Emma snarls, standing up. "I'll get rid of her."

"Aww, do we have to? Taylor's a huge cape junky, she'd flip the fuck out. It'd be hilarious." Madison pleads.

"Do you really think we can trust her with this? If we told that motormouth what's going on, the whole school would be here in seconds." Emma snaps.

"She's not that bad... I miss hanging out with her. When are you going to forgive her?" Say what you will, the girl's puppy-dog look is a potent weapon.

"When she admits it was her. She blabbed your secret to the whole school Madison. If it weren't for my dad and Sophia's connections, you'd be expelled." Emma sighs. "I don't care if she thinks she was doing the right thing, something like that is unforgivable."

"She what?" I whisper, as Emma heads towards the door to head off the intruder.

"I don't know if it was really her." Madison frowns. "But someone, a few months ago, sent an anonymous message to the whole school about my 'condition'. It started a whole firestorm about whether I was contagious or not, and even when it blew over I... Well, there's plenty of grounds for people to say I was 'asking for it' now."

Poor girl. "Why does Emma think it was Taylor?"

"The message had details that only the four of us know. Sophia, Emma, Taylor and I. Of the four of us, only Emma and Sophia really helped to cover it all up. That and... Well, Taylor used to be a huge blabbermouth." Madison shrugs looking miserable.

To hell with this. "I said get lost, motor-mouth." Emma snarls. There's a lot of anger there, but it's the protective kind. The other girl, Taylor, looks positively morose in comparison.

"I didn't know you were in here." She stumbles, taking a step back. "I just need to get something. There's a project next period that's due and it's worth-" She stops, catching sight of me, and stares for a good long moment. Her heart rate increases, and her muscles tense. "What the-"

"Come inside." I insist, and Emma grabs the girl and drags her in, sending me a glare.

"I said I'd handle it." She snaps.

"I can help. Sit her down." We settle onto the bench, and I turn to look at the stunned girl.

"I... What... How..." She stumbles, looking between the three of us.

"Taylor. I need you to calm down." She does, only moderately, but it's enough. "I'm going to ask some questions, and I want you to answer them honestly, okay? I'll know if you're lying."

"What, you're some kind of human lie detector now?" Emma asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Not a human, technically." Madison supplies happily.

If my powers were stronger, I could probably just look at the past and see the event in question. Actually, if I could do that, there's no reason someone couldn't find that information to screw over Madison, or Taylor. "Is your name Taylor?"

"Yes." Her vitals remain stable, her aura fluctuates a bit with nervousness, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Are you fifteen years old?"

"Yes." Another green light. I've got a base line, sort of. Nothing that'd hold up in court but...

"Did you send the message about Madison's condition to the school?"

"No." No fluctuations, just a lot of determination. If anything, I'd say she's been trying to convince people of that for quite some time.

"Did you know who sent the message about Madison's condition to the school?"

"No." Another green light.

"Other than people who already knew, did you tell anyone about Madison's condition?"

She hesitates, looking down at the bench beneath her. "Yes." It's a whispered admission, and the other girls tense up. "I told my father. He was worried about me, and noticed how... Off, Madison seemed sometimes. I had to tell him, or he would have made a scene. So I told him the basics, none of the details, and he was okay with it."

"She's telling the truth. She doesn't think her father was the culprit either." I sigh. "Taylor's innocent."

Emma looks stunned for a moment, just shaking in place, before she lunges at the poor girl. They hit the ground in a tangle of limbs as the redhead sobs away, clinging for dear life to her former friend. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." It's kind of heart wrenching to watch, for a brief moment, before Madison joins in the pile happily.

I sort of feel out of place for a while, watching the pile of sobbing and giggling friends on the floor. "What the fuck did you do?" I turn to see girl my age in a dark costume, flanked by several teenage boys in equally strange outfits.


* * *

Part 3

"So what do we call you?" One of the heroes, Aegis, I think he calls himself, asks.

"I vote for Trouser Snake." Clockblocker supplies, getting an elbow for his trouble.

"I don't really know. I need two names, don't I?" I tried my best to ignore the argument going on behind me. I'd vouched for Taylor, but the newcomer, Sophia I think they called her, seems a little upset over it. Their relationship was a bit odd really.

I could sort of see the connections between them. Taylor had the strongest connection to Emma, though it's been recently strained. Emma has a strong connection to Madison, as does Sophia. Sophia's connection to the girl, however, was more protective in nature than the others. There's a small amount of guilt there, too, which makes me think maybe I should speak to her.

In turn, Madison has a strong outward connection to all three of the girls, almost bordering on love. Already one of them was forming towards me, likely due to how easily I was taking news of her condition.

Looking back at the group, I could see how strained the hero's connection was towards Sophia. There was respect, but not the kind of friendliness I'd expect to see among teammates. "Madison. Panties." Emma snaps, drawing my attention over. The girl had wound up in a compromising position, and was still wearing a skirt. All of the boys quickly looked away out of respect.

"But Mooooom~ They chafe!" Madison pouts, but scampers off to collect the garments.

"Well?" Emma hisses, the moment the girl is gone. She's got an arm around Taylor, and though she's tense about the situation, I can see that true forgiveness is well on its way for both of them. Thank goodness the relationship wasn't too heavily damaged.

"I'm glad you're excited to have your girlfriend back." Sophia drawls, still sounding cross. "But you're really going to take a snake's word for this?"

I cringe a little at the words. That wasn't entirely fair, was it? "She knows things Sophia. If she says Taylor didn't do it... I believe her."

"That's because you want to believe her, Emma. You've been this way from the get-go, but who else could it have been?"

Taylor fidgets, drawing attention back to her. "Uh... Well... No offense, but... It could have been you?"

The slap rings out through the entire locker room, and I'm surprised to see Emma step in to take the blow without flinching. "That's enough!" She yells, silencing everyone. "I won't have my friends fighting anymore. This has gone on too long. We're all going to apologize, and move on."

"If it helps..." I feel bad for interfering, but that niggling sense tells me it'd be for the best. "Sophia, would you mind answering a few questions?"

"I shouldn't have to." She growls, looking at her friends with more than a little betrayal. Their bond will survive, however. "But fine. If it makes everyone sleep better, do your worst."

"Did you betray Madison?"

"That's not a fair question." She shoots back. "Ask it properly."

I pause, considering my words for a moment. "Were you responsible, in any way, for the anonymous message that revealed Madison's secret?"

"Not to my knowledge." True.

"That's true. She's not to blame." Though I wonder exactly how she betrayed her then, and why the guilt?

"Finally. Can we all be friends again then?" Madison sighs, scooping up Taylor from behind. "Pretty please? We can have a sleepover, like we used to."

"That'll be great." Taylor smiles awkwardly, actually looking happy. "And uh..."

"You should totally come!" Madison beams at me. "You're the hero of the day, after all."

"Madison, you just met her." Emma sighs.

"Yeah, but look how cute she is!"


* * *

"So that's that." The woman in front of me, Director Piggot, is... Well, in a word she's wholesome. She's not model worthy, by far, but at the same time she's the epitome of all American farm girl. Strong muscles, short hair, and stern faced. "The paper work is all set for you to go over."

Becoming a Ward. Well, it's not like I have too many options, really. Doing this, the PRT will set up a whole identity for me, complete with a spending budget and trust fund. They'll put me in school (Not that I'm certain I need it), and give me a place to stay. All my needs taken care of, so long as I risk my life as a hero.

I don't know what anyone else would do with powers like mine, really.

"Thank you for the offer." I nod, looking down at the papers and pushing a stray lock of hair over my ear. "I still don't know what to call myself."

"That's alright. You don't have to sign immediately. We've been in here for a few hours, why don't we take a break?" So reasonable too. A good manager to have, stern but fair.

"Hey, thought of a name yet?" Clockblocker, from earlier. At least I'm no longer in a towel. At my negative head gesture he hums to himself for a moment. "How about Megan?"

"Like Miss Martian?" I joke, mulling it over. We are both green...

"You read earth Aleph comics?" He gasps, eyes widening. "Oh man, we've got to hang out some time. There's a store not too far away from here that— Right, sorry got sidetracked. Kid Win is the only other geek in the Wards, and he's a Marvel fanboy."

"They both have their merits." I shrug. "Though... Uh... Speaking of Marvel. Do I have to worry about 'mutant hate crimes'?"

"No. Not really. Some people will probably stare, but other than the Lightbringers, who think Case 53's are inherently evil aliens or something, you'll be fine. I mean, watch out for the E88, but that's a given." He rambles for a bit.

"Apparently they want me for something called 'Think Tank'?" I mention, the idea hadn't sounded that great to me, but...

"I've only heard a little. Apparently it's a government run organization of Thinkers, people who are either smarter or can predict things, or just have better senses than most humans. They do the planning and reviewing and stuff. Behind the scenes things." He explained. It sounds like what I'd been told about them.

"What do you think I should do?" I ask, noticing Sophia, in costume, come in.

"It'd be a pretty dumb move." She states, moving over to sit on the couch. "I've met a few of them before. They're obsessed with posturing and outdoing one another, always trying to one up everyone else's skills. The pay is alright, I hear, but you'd be working a desk job for the rest of your life."

That's what I'd thought. I'm pretty sure there's more to my power than just seeing things, to be honest. I just need to figure it out. "Yeah... I think I'm going to join the Wards. I just need a name."

"Ophidian?" Sophia suggests, causing Clockblocker to snicker.

"With an orange costume." He all but giggles.

"No. How about..."

"Monty?" He suggests.

"No more snake jokes!" I snap. "And before you suggest it, no Medusa."

"Euryale?" It's another girl who suggests the name, stepping into the room through some kind of spatial distortion. I'll admit it, I stare for a good long while, until she begins to grown uncomfortable and begins to fidget. "What? I'm sorry if it's a bad name-"

"No, that's not it. I just... I can see these distortions around you, in space."

"Wait, you can see those? That's cool! That'll make coordinating with you easier." She beams. I smile back, wondering if I can do more than just see them. I feel like I can, I just need to practice.

"Anyways, I'd rather not be associated with 'hideous'." I reply, pondering over the name. I know most people would overlook it but...

"Jormungandr is out. Too much like an endbringer name, plus the E88 connection." Sophia points out.

"Adelinda." I decide, the name sticking out in my mind. "Adel for short."

"Sounds pretty." The girl smiles. "Nice to meet you Adel, I'm Missy. Vista, when in costume."

"Pleasure to meet you Vista." I smile back.


* * *

Power testing sucks, I decide rather quickly. They went over everything from pure physical skill, to IQ and knowledge tests, to things like you'd see quacks testing for ESP and stuff. Overall, the results were what I was expecting. There's barely anything out there I can't see, so long as it's in line of sight (and somethings I can see if it isn't).

I can see stuff they don't even have names for, including these little mote-like things that occasionally float around. More stuff to test when I get the chance.

Their best instruments say I'm about baseline human, physically. Aside from me not being human, that is. They put me at being about 15 years old, despite what my powers tell me. Apparently my powers are 'wrong' about that, which isn't very scientific of them.

The most interesting thing about my powers is the rating they attached to my Thinker 5 rating.

Trump 2.

Apparently I can see people's powers in action in ways they've never heard of. Clockblocker's power, for example. I can tell which objects he's used them on, because they seem to actually remove themselves from time. They count as having existed for less time than anything else, even months after he froze them.

If I really can do more than just see things, I really want to actually work with that. Messing with time sounds like a ton of fun. Hopefully this isn't my mad-scientist streak surfacing.

The scary thing? Shadow Stalker's power.

She removes herself from reality in all but image, which no one else seems to grasp. She literally... Steps, up into another plane of existence, and the only thing remaining behind is actually a shadow of herself. The scientists doing the testing argued with me for almost an hour about the details before giving it up as 'semantics', but that's not the scary thing.

The scary thing is, she's not the only thing wandering around up there. There are those motes, that occasionally exist there instead of the wall they usually hide behind. (I peeked past the wall once. It was terrifying. I'm not doing that unless otherwise necessary.) They sort of swim through the air like fish, paying no mind to anyone or anything, Sophia included.

But there's these things. Humanoid and mostly featureless, that sort of drift aimlessly around. Sophia can't see them, even when she's in her 'breaker state', but she's definitely sharing a plane with them when she does that. I'm beginning to think it's better she doesn't know.

Looking at Aegis do his thing is pretty darn cool, but it gets boring once I realized he can't control it. There's so many cool things biology can do, and things I'd want to try if I could control it. They say I'm going to get a chance to talk to Panacea soon, which sounds pretty wicked.

Otherwise? Gallant sees aura the same way I do, but he can actually change them with his beams. Kind of cool, for 'mood ring' powers. I do wonder how he can't see Missy's obvious crush on him, or maybe he's just dickish enough to ignore it. I also wonder if he can see arousal like I can, or if he can cause it. Kind of an abusable power, that, but that's why he's named Gallant.

Otherwise, I think I'll fit in just fine here, especially when I solve the mystery surrounding my powers. I know I can do so much more than this. I've just got to practice.

"You're kidding right?" I look up from my own musing, glancing over at Carlos, Dennis and Chris. Chris is a bit of an odd one. Even with all of my abilities going at full, I can't make heads or tails of his work. Bullshit pseudoscience that it is. Gives me headaches whenever I try to look too hard at it.

"What's up?" I must have missed part of the conversation, because they give me that look.

"Apparently one of the higher-ups is trying to gather together capes to try and kill the Ruby Emperor." Dennis explains, quickly taking in my blank look. "Okay, so you know how there's big endbringers?"

"The big three, right? I've been told..." Nothing named the Ruby Emperor was on it though.

"Well, there's usually three categories people like to use. There's small fry, like Bloodhound down in Houston a few weeks ago." Carlos explains.

"I wouldn't consider how many it killed 'small'." Chris notes.

"Well, anyways. Those things go right for capes, searching them out to try and eliminate them. It's sort of a recorded phenomenon, and we get a lot of flak for it." Carlos continues.

"They tried moving all of the capes out of a city once, to see if that'd make it safe. Lasted three months before an endbringer sacked it anyways." Dennis supplies. "See, when there's no capes to fight? They just start wrecking things and killing people until capes show up to fight them."

"Right, so if one shows up, we go right for it and bring it down?" Makes sense.

"The second tier up are stranger. They're bigger and stronger, but they're territorial. Obviously if they show up downtown, we've got to kill them, but some?" Carlos shrugs.

"Like Pyroclasm, up in Yellowstone." Chris supplies. "Big ass exploding dragon. Easy enough to avoid that they still let people camp up there."

"Yeah, some are kind of safe to ignore, to a point." Carlos smiles, seeing my realization. "Ruby Emperor is a silikinetic, he controls sand, and has an aura that destroys water completely. He hangs out in death valley. There's literally no reason to go out and pick a fight like that."

"And not many capes that could. The plan probably won't fly. Not when they're more worried about Vigor." Dennis pipes up.

"And Vigor is?"

"A giant thing made of fungus. Every once in a while it gets up and slowly walks somewhere else in Africa, then lays down and sends out spores. Anything infected happily runs to join it or defend it, and eventually gets consumed. It's hell on the ecosystem, but it's slow enough that people can evacuate the villages it attacks weeks before it shows up." Chris explains. "They do want to get rid of it before all of Africa is mushroom country though."

"Well this is just a lovely little world I've wound up in, isn't it?" I muse.

"It is with you in it." Dennis laughs, giving me a comedic eyebrow waggle.

"Hey, Adel?" I look up, once more cursing my lack of awareness, even with my powers going. Sophia's by the door, in her civilian outfit. "I'm going to meet the girls at the mall... You up for some shopping?"

Shopping huh? A crowded mall, looking like this? And then there's that sleepover I'm invited to. I don't want to intrude but... "Yeah. That sounds fun. I need some proper clothing." The scrubs I've been given look like a prisoner's outfit, to me at least. I haven't asked what everyone else thinks I'm wearing.


* * *

Part 4

"Everyone, this is Adel." Sophia announces, gesturing towards me as I smile at the assembled group. I still feel like the odd girl out, to be honest, and not just because I'm green and scaley.

Madison skips forward and throws her arm around me, giving me a one-armed hug with her head on my shoulder. "It's great to meet you, again." She laughs. "I'm so glad you decided to come out with us."

"Yeah, well... I need new clothes." I shrug, brushing a lock of hair out of my face.

"Aww, she's shy." Emma teases lightly, grabbing my other arm.

"W-what? No I'm not." I protest weakly, though I can feel my face heating up. I wonder what color I blush?

"Sure you are. Taylor used to do the same thing, growing up. Whenever she was feeling nervous she'd look down and play with her hair." Emma explains, getting a bit of a giggle from the other girls. Taylor quickly falls in beside Emma as we move into the mall, and I notice, without moving my head, that the two of them interlock pinky fingers.

"Uh, so you aren't all worried that you'll be in danger by associating with me? I mean, I'm an obvious parahuman." I point out, trying to change the subject away from my social awkwardness.

"I don't mind." Madison shrugs, running her fingers along my arm. "Your scales feel so cool..."

At a glance, the young nympho is still radiating a low level of arousal, but she seems to be dealing with it quite well. I suppose she's had practice coping with it. Sophia's a little on edge, her gaze continuously sweeping across the crowds as Emma and Taylor pretty much lead the way. The two newly-mended best friends are well on their way to patching things up quickly, judging by the bond between them.

Turning my attention away from them, I instead look out at the crowds around us. There's plenty of people staring, a lot of whispered conversations that I only catch snippets of, and more than a few people taking pictures with their phones. It's to be expected, I suppose, but still...

More than that, the vast array of colors is almost overwhelming. There's such a variety of emotions in everyone present, from fear to curiosity to boredom and apathy, and the people who don't notice and stare are even more varied. A young couple here that's very much in love, a boy over there fuming with jealousy. It's really incredible how entertaining it is to just people watch with my powers.

And then things get ugly when I mentally start looking at health. There's no real floodgates to it, but the information isn't pretty at all. Sure, most of the people are rather healthy, but everywhere I look I can't help but pick up little bits of awful information.

The skateboarder over there has a crack in his tibia, probably recent.

That man has the beginning stages of emphysema from smoking.

The two girls by the fountain are addicted to painkillers.

That... Girl, I decide, noting her age, is pregnant.

None of it's any of my business, but I just can't help but notice. Is the world always such a bad place, with everyone around me always in pain or sick? Do people just not notice these things? That man has the flu, that woman has herpes, that kid has three cavities in his teeth. It's all so much, but people continue moving on their way.

I'm almost content to let them all go on with their business. It's not my place to butt in, really, and I'm rather certain I already look like an idiot for zoning out.

Right up until he walks into view. A man, 39 years old, with a son and daughter who are 8 and 6 years old, respectively. My heart seizes, and though I know immediately that I don't want to do it, that it'd be a horribly awkward and awful conversation to have, I know that I've got to. I've got super powers, and I've got to do the heroic thing.

I swallow thickly, and feel Madison's tight grip on my arm. The rest of the girls are looking at me with worry. "Um... I ah... I need to do something."

"You have that look, that you're about to do something stupid." Sophia states, giving me a level glare. "What is it?"

"It's not stupid, just... Just something I need to do. I'll be right back, okay?" I pull free of their grip, and move towards the crowd. People look on in a mixture of worry and awe, stepping out of my way as I head towards the family. The children are the first to notice, the girl looking up at me in wonder as the boy moves to protect her from possible harm. It's rather adorable. "Excuse me, sir?"

He stiffens, taking in my appearance as he pulls his children back. "Yes?"

"Ah... Do you mind if I have a word with you? It's rather important." He stares for a while, before nodding, stepping to the side but keeping an eye on his children. "I know you've no reason to believe me about anything, but... Well, there's no easy way to say this..."

"You're a cape, right? Here to give me some kind of warning from the future or something?" He guesses, looking skeptical.

"Not really. I can see people's general health, and well... You need to go to the hospital, as soon as you can. I'm afraid... You have cancer. Lymphoma. It's in its really early stages, so you probably feel fine but..."

"Cancer?" He pales, looking wobbly for a moment before I grab him and help him sit down on the edge of the fountain. His kids rush to his side, and he forces a smile for them.

"Please go get it checked out? For their sake?" I urge, trying to force myself to smile.

"I uh... Y-yeah. I'll do that. Thanks." He mumbles. "I should probably update my insurance first, I think." He laughs weakly.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah. I just need to make a few calls." He nods, looking back down at his kids. I use the moment to slip away, back to my new friends.

"What was that about?" Sophia asks, moving to the outside of the group as I scoot between them, keeping my head down for the moment.

"Just a warning I had to give." I sigh, trying to shake it off. I really hope this isn't all my powers are good for. The topic quickly changes, and we're urged into a clothing store a moment later. I'm a bit hopeless at picking out anything decent, so Emma and Madison quickly take over, along with a rather perplexed store assistant. Apparently they take matching clothing to my 'complexion' as a challenge.

The end result is a lot of skinny jeans, plenty of t-shirts and several pieces of fabric that can barely pass as 'underwear'. Everyone assures me they totally count, but I can't help the feeling I'm being punked.

I'm ushered off into the changing room with a pile of clothing half my size, with orders to try on everything, while Emma pushes Taylor around the store, claiming something about emergency fashion surgery. A few moments later, I'm no longer alone in the change room.

I give a small squeak of surprise as I drop my shirt, standing there in only a plain pair of cotton panties and a bra. Still unable to turn off my sight, I'm left looking at Sophia, as well as my own reflection. "Sheesh, you scared me." I smile weakly, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "I was half expecting Madison."

"She wanted to." The darker girl shrugs, leaning back against the door. "I told her it'd be a bit too forward."

"So uh... You here to help me change or something?" I guess, shifting around a bit under her gaze.

"Or something." She replies coolly. "About what you said earlier, that Taylor's innocent. That's true, right?"

She steps forwards, and I move back involuntarily, feeling the chill of the glass behind me on my shoulders. "It's true. She didn't rat out Madison."

She stares at me for a good long while, and I stare back directly into her eyes. There's something there, beneath the surface, not just her aura of confidence and dominance, but something else. A need, to be on top, to be safe and dominant. At the same time, there's a desire to be punished, stemming from some colossal guilt.

"Why do you feel so guilty?" She flinches as if struck, actually taking a step back. "I'm sorry, it just... It stands out to me. I wouldn't tell anyone else, I'm just really curious. You obviously care a lot about Madison, but you feel so much guilt towards her."

"I didn't rat her out." She snaps, crossing her arms. It doesn't escape my notice, at that point, how much more dressed she is than me. How her tear-away track pants cover her long athletic legs, how her t-shirt hangs over her bust.

"I know." I'm so glad I don't have to move my eyes to check her out. If anything, I'm probably the most qualified person in the world to ogle people. I can see every toned muscle in her body, watch the blood flow through her veins, watch in almost slow motion as she breathes in air and her breasts rise and fall.

"I shouldn't tell you, but... We're going to be partners right?" She sighs, closing her eyes. "Back when I got my powers... You know how most capes get their powers, right?"

"No, actually." No one had bothered to fill in that little detail.

"Well, it happens... It always happens on your worst day. One of those days where everything goes wrong, and the weight of life just makes you snap. Sometimes it's a slow break, sometimes it's one little unspeakable tragedy, but it always just sort of breaks us." She explains, trying to remove herself from the explanation. "If anything, I think you have it lucky. Case 53's are all monstrous on the outside. The rest of us? We're monsters on the inside, and I think that's worse."

I ponder her words, not trusting myself to say anything. That nagging feeling again, telling me that interrupting would be a bad thing. "I got my powers when I was younger. I got... I got grabbed by a monster, and it tried to have its way with me."

"Like Madison." I realize, causing her to grimace.

"Exactly like Madison." She grumbles, clenching her eyes shut tightly. "I used my powers to escape. To run away instead of trying to fight it. It couldn't catch me, so it went after someone else. Someone who couldn't run. I didn't find out until several years later what my cowardice had done."

I can't help myself, I step forwards and throw my arms around her in a tight hug. She tenses, remaining stiff and still as I listen to her heartbeat. "That's not your fault, you know. You were young."

"I was given a chance to be a hero, and I was a coward instead. It's my fault she's like that." Sophia replies through grit teeth. "How am I supposed to be forgiven for that?"

"Ask." It's such a simple answer, really. "Madison loves you, all of you. Even when she thought Taylor betrayed her, she never stopped loving her. She'll forgive you."

"I don't deserve it." She growls, pushing me back against the mirror. "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

Her eyes lock on mine as she somehow towers above me via sheer presence. She's intimidating, and I feel the faintest stirrings of actual primal fear as I look at her. She's so intense, so passionate, so... Aroused? There's something there in that gaze, flickering to life in her aura as she pins me to the wall.

"Answer me." She growls, grabbing my hair and pulling my head back, exposing my neck. It hurts a little, but just watching what it's doing to her is fascinating.

"What if I do?" I taunt, feeling her breath on my neck. She bites me, her teeth digging into my neck in a way far removed from how a lover would. Her tongue, warm and wet, strokes across the marks left behind, and I can feel her lips move down towards my collar bone.

"You won't." She states with certainty, one knee rising up between my legs as her hips pin me in place. I stifle a low groan as it rubs against me, and fail to resist the temptation to grind myself down on it. "Because, I know a secret of yours."

That taunt lingers in my ear, the warmth of her breath lasting long after she captures my mouth in a kiss. It's rough, passionate but not loving as her tongue invades my mouth. She pins my tongue quickly and moves to explore the rest, running along my teeth one by one, wresting and pinning my tongue each time it rises for a rematch.

All the while her knee works a wet spot in my cotton panties, a hand moving from pinning my arms to cupping my chest. Her nimble fingers slip under my bra, hiking it up and exposing my pale green breasts to the air. Her finger tips savor the unique texture of smooth scales on soft pillowy flesh as she squeezes and gropes, roughly digging her fingers in even as her palm rubs against my nipple.

I can still see, even as she's doing these things to me. I can see her own arousal, growing like a fire inside of her. See the blood flow through her body, see her nipples rise and her juices flow at the very act of dominating. All the while, I can see that lingering little ball of disappointment inside of her. "I know you're weak. You'll do what I want." She taunts.

"You want me to do what you want?" I tease back, locking eyes with her as I pant for air. We stare for a long moment, her hand and her knee working tirelessly, trying everything they can to make me flinch away and break the deadlock. It doesn't work, I endure, and then she blinks.

Just like that the tables are turned, as I spin around and pin her to the mirror. She can break my grip in an instant, if she wanted to. She's stronger than me, by far, even without her powers. Instead she looks on with wide eyes as I lean in and bite her neck, hard.

She gasps, and I'm treated to the beautiful sight of her body lighting up like a Christmas tree. Her shirt comes up, and her bra is roughly shoved aside for my hands to practically maul at her tits. I spare no effort on being gentle, cupping, lifting, squeezing and twisting at her breasts as she groans beneath me. I kiss her and this time her tongue puts up only a token resistance to mine before submitting under me.

A hand reaches down to her pants, grasping in just the right spot and removing them with a sharp tug, leaving her standing in only a skimpy thong. "Surprised?" I tease, running a finger over the soaked fabric. "This is what you wanted, right?"

Her hips buck, desperate for more as she gasps for breath. "I'm not going to tell Madison. You are."

She growls, her muscles strain, but her heart really isn't in the posturing, especially when I slip a finger inside of her. "You're going to do it, because you love this Sophia. Don't bother lying."

She grunts, lowering her hips to rock at my finger while I tease her with a second one. "Go on, say it."

"F-fuck-ah!" She shouts, eyes widening as I pinch at her clit.

"Ah ah, you've got to be quiet." I smirk, pecking her lips and withdrawing as she tries to kiss me. "Come on, say it and I'll give you a reward." I step back, wiggling my hips as I slowly shimmy out of my drenched panties. "Say it, and I'll let you give me a kiss."

She licks her lips, looking down at me, and then up again. There's conflict there, and she squirms even more as I start to withdraw my fingers. "I-Ah!" She squeaks girlishly as I turn her around on the mirror, letting her watch her expression as I slap her ass.

"What's wrong? Weren't you going to say something?" I taunt, running a finger across her lips and up the crack of her ass.

"I-Ow!" She hisses again as I slap her ass once more. It's fun, though she's being a bit too noisy. Still, no other living people are in the change room at least. "I l-ow!" Another spank, and I can hardly suppress my giggle.

"You really have a sensitive ass, don't you?" I tease, causing her to squirm and grow angry. "I guess I'll have to break you in, if I'm going to spank you regularly. Still... That could be a good thing, if I want to fuck it..." I run a finger down her crack, feeling her clench up before the probing digit. "Or kiss it." Her arousal spikes at the thought, and a shiver runs up her spine. "Where was I?"

"I love this." She gasps, not stopping this time as I swat her backside. "Now stop tormenting me, you bitch."

I step back with a laugh, letting her spin and capture me in her arms. Our breasts push together as she captures me in a passionate kiss, her own hands gripping tightly to my backside. It lasts only a moment before she drops to her knees. "You promised." She grunts, and I spread my legs and lean back, letting her get to work.


* * *

"Hey, what took you so long?" Madison asks, bright eyed and cheerful as I finish straightening up and putting some of my new clothes on.

"Some of them don't quite fit." I shrug, trying to play it cool. Sophia leaves the change room over, having phased through the wall while in that higher plane of existence to avoid drawing attention to our little... Whatever that was. I don't know what to call our relationship, especially after she just sort of grunted and went on her way at the end of it.

Say what you will about the group of girl's I'm suddenly involved with, they're certainly an interesting bunch.

"Oh, hey Sophia, not getting anything?" Emma asks, smiling politely. Sophia shrugs, looking disinterested and the attention turns towards Taylor, who comes out of the dressing room wearing her usual baggy sweater.

"The colors are too bright." She mumbles, looking a bit put out. Emma rolls her eyes and charges forwards, all but bull rushing the poor girl back into the change room. I don't need to turn around to spot Madison give Sophia's face a quick lick.

"Missed a spot." She teases happily.

A Simple Soul (Worm CYOA)

(Автор: Jack of Olives)

A Simple Soul (Worm CYOA)

Setup:

Type: Standard (+5 pts)

Powers: Aura (RWBY) with the ability to make Vytal's tech and the mental archive on how to use both (-4 pts)

Disadvantage: Randomly-Reincarnated* (+2 pts)

Advantage: Plot Armor (-2 pts) and... Man of Mystery (-1 pt) because I'm vain.

*Reincarnation Rolls:

Roll 1 (Age): 5 (+10 = 15)

Roll 1a (School): 2 (Winslow)

Roll 1b (Social): 1 (Loner: Nerd)

Roll 2 (Race): 5 (American 'mutt' [Irish-Mexican])

Roll 3 (Gender): Even (Female [*looks at age and gender* Let's move to the NSFW page])

Roll 4 (Family Relations): 1 (Orphan)

Roll 4a (Family's Work): 9 (PRT)

Semblance*: Color Manipulation (Which I'm treating like a colorful version of Light Manipulation for simplicity's sake)

*Chosen by hitting 'Random Page' on the Superpower Wiki.

(Future) PRT Profile:

Name: Rebecca Green

Cape Name: Beacon.

PRT Ratings:

Mover: 2 (Can run at ~40 mph and jump nearly two stories from a standing start.)

Brute: 3/4 (Capable of lifting 800lbs worth of weight, body ignores damage but doing so depletes 'aura' reserves. Offensive power enhanced with use of Gauntlets.)

Shaker: 3 (Capable of manipulating light within 15 yards. Control imprecise; causing rainbow effects)

Blaster: 2/3 (Can use light control to fire lasers. Enhanced when using gauntlets. Gauntlets capable of firing sandbag rounds.)

Tinker: 4 (Specialty: folding/collapsing devices and 'aura-reinforcement'. Also capable of fabricating a crystalline substence that she refers to as 'Dust' which is used in her devices.)

Thinker: 3 (Enhanced reaction speed in combat. Knowledge of numerous martial arts techniques designed to )

Trump: 7+*Classified* (Capable of granting others powers; notably, her Mover and Brute ratings, the enhanced reaction aspect of her Thinker rating, as well as a random superpower that she refers to as a 'semblence'. She has expressed doubt that any semblance will warrant a rating higher than 5 in any category. So far, no Master effect has been noted from this enhancement, and she assures us that the effect is permanent.)

Note: X's parahuman abilities are limited by the amount of 'aura' she has available and the more she uses her powers the more quickly she burns through it. A fifteen minute rest seems to be enough for her to refill her reserves.

Chapter 1:

The shrill sound of my alarm clock wakes me from my sleep. Rolling over in my bed, I stretch my hand out to where it normally would be. Therefore, I'm quite surprised when I end up falling out of my bed and onto my ass.

It takes me a second to get my bearings as a lifetime of memories assault me.

I was Rebecca Green; a high-school student who lost her parents last December to a supervillain raid on the PRT building where they worked (the Empire had staged a jailbreak and they'd gotten caught in the crossfire).

I was also 'Jack'; a man in his late 20s who had been...

Oh. Oh~. Fuck.

Okay, calm down... Rebecca, I guess. I may have more memories as 'Jack', but My body is Rebecca's. Granted, I could just be crazy, but...

Reaching out with my aura in an almost instinctive way, I manifest a bit of my aura outside my body, causing a red outline to appear around my hands.

Okay; that works. And the number of aura techniques, martial arts styles, and knowledge of Vytal technology in my head is way too detailed to fake. Which means that my memories of Worm are probably correct.

... Fuck. I (the Rebecca part of me) know Taylor. In passing, anyway. She's always been picked on those three bitches, and I've never done anything about it At first it was because I'd been too scared to do anything, and then because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself about my parents dieing. Wow, but I feel shitty, now.

I spend a few minutes trying to come to terms with my new memories. I wasn't there for the locker incident, and didn't even hear about it until after the fact, but as much as I'd like to have thought otherwise, I honestly don't know If I would have done anything If I'd have been there. A sobering thought considering that I'm supposed to help save the world.

A horrible chill runs down my spin as the enormity of the task ahead of me starts to dawn. I honestly thought I was going to throw up for a bit.

I force myself to calm down. Okay Rebecca, calm down. You need to take things one step at a time. The first thing I need to do is... either help Taylor, or join the Wards.

Joining the Wards straight-away would be the easiest solution; I'd be safe to practice my aura powers and be able to grant other people the ability in relative safety. The problem with that is that I likely wouldn't be able to help Taylor if I did. Not enough to matter, anyway. I don't think I could live with myself after ignoring her problem for so long.

I take a deep breath.

"Becca! You're going to miss the bus if you don't hurry." I hear Cynthia (A nice enough woman who's looking after me while I'm in foster care) call up the stairs.

A part of me wants to pretend to be sick, but I've done too much of that in the last couple of months. Besides, I need to go to school. "I'm up!" What kind of hero can I be if I can't even help one person.


* * *

I lose myself in 'Becca's' morning routine as I try to mentally catalog my new powers. I was an aura-user now. My aura can let me take a lot of punishment, I'm stronger and faster than I was, with better reflexes, and I should have a semblence power that I'll need to figure out. I'll need to train myself to be able to fight, though. Thankfully, I know the forms; so I just need to practice. First I'll need to do is make myself a weapon to use so I can train with it. In order to do that, I'll need access to equipment.

...And this is why Tinker powers are such a pain. Fuck it. I'll practice with gloves first and see how that works. Yang's Ember Celica always looked pretty awesome, anyway.

I make it to the bus stop right as it gets there and sit myself in my usual spot. Okay, here goes nothing.


* * *

I never liked school.

When schools were first invented, they were all about educating kids so they'd grow up to be intelligent adults who knew more than just what their parents could teach them. As the years went on, schools became less about teaching and started being more about social-engineering than education. It's understandable to an extent, but I've always been of the opinion that modern schools teach students a bunch of bad habits.

"Oh, don't cry Taylor. You cried more than enough when your mother died. I thought you'd never stop."

One of the worst one being that you can get away with any kind of bullying as long as no-one can prove anything.

"Fuck off, Barnes." I say as I approach where the three bitches had cornered their usual victim.

"What do you want, Green?" She sounded annoyed at the interruption.

"You think dead parents are funny?" I say as I interpose myself between them and Taylor. It's as much as a tactical move as it is psychological; if trouble starts, I'm obviouslly protecting Taylor from three other girls, and it's obvious to Taylor that I'm trying to protect her. "I bet you wouldn't be laughing if your mother had died."

"Oh, that's right." Maddison said in a sickly sweet voice as a thought seemed to occur to her. "Your parents died in December, didn't they? I'm so sorry for your loss."

"As much as your capable of, anyway." I agree with a neutral expression. The trick to this 'game' is to insult the other person without sounding like you were. The first person to lose their cool lost. I turn back to Emma before Maddison could register the insult. Emma, on the other hand, has made the mistake of bringing up someone's dead parent to insult them. Even if she's trying to be subtle about it, socially-speaking she's in the wrong. "Seriously, though; what kind of person insults someone's dead mother? Are you going to kill puppies and drown kittens for an encore?"

Sophia speaks up next. "When did you decide to grow a spine, Green?" She asks with a snort.

"When I saw that no one was going to say anything. Seriously; fuck off."

Ah, Sophia seems to have noticed my tactics. Say what you will about the girl, but she has a keen sense of what can and can't get her in trouble. She motions with her head at the other two, and they reluctantly make a retreat.

Turning around, I address Taylor in a softer voice. "You okay?"

The look on her face is heartbreaking. Shame and self-loathing mixed with gratitude and a bit of suspicion. "You didn't have to do that." She mutters sofly.

I shake my head. "I've been standing by and letting them do that for too long. I wouldn't have been able to look myself in the mirror anymore if I let them get away with that." I pick up her lunch-bag from where they'd knocked it onto the floor and hand it to her. "I'm Becca, by the way."

"Taylor." She answers quietly. I fight the urge to hug her at how timid she looks as she takes the bag from me.

Making a split-second decision I grab her arm as I pull her towards the quad. "C'mon, you're eating lunch with me."

There aren't any empty tables, but I spot a planter-box that's out of the way but within view of the faculty. We should be relatively safe from reprisal there.

I speak up as we sit down. "I owe you an apology, by the way." She looks up at me with an inquisitive expression. "I should have spoken up way sooner, at very least after... what happened to you in January, and I was so caught feeling sorry for myself that I just ignored it."

"Y-you didn't do anything wrong."

I shake my head. "I didn't do anything. 'All it takes for evil to prosper is for good people to do nothing'" I paraphrase. "By letting them get away with that, I might as well have told them it was okay for them to pull that kind of thing."

"What made you change your mind, then."

"I recently had to rethink where I was going with my life. I didn't like who I was becoming, before." I confess. It's the truth, if a bit misleading.

There's a pause before she finally responds. "Thank you." The amount of emotion in her voice makes me have to resist the urge to hug her again.

I turn to her and offer a smile. "So, do you want to be friends?"

She offers me a timid smile before answering. "I— I think I'd like that."

Giving in to the urge, I grab her in a one-armed hug (causing an adorable little squeek). "Alright! and if those three give you any more trouble, you just come to me." She nods, smile still on her face.

The bitch trio will likely try to get revenge against me for earlier, but I'm not some insecure high-school girl anymore, and sabotaging my schoolwork won't bother me because my schoolwork won't affect my future.

They can't touch me.

TMI

(Автор: volantredx)

The big issue with running the city Lisa decided, was that there was always one more thing to do. At least weekly check ins with the others let her catch up with her friends. She usually saved Taylor's call for last. It meant she didn't have to rush through the call.

It took four rings before Taylor picked up the phone. That was strange. She normally was right on top of things.

"Mmm, yeah?" Taylor's voice was strained for some reason. Her power started to fire off ideas before Lisa clamped down hard. She felt the head ache start a few hours ago, if she was going to get through the rest of the day she needed to rest up.

"Hey Taylor it's me," The phones were untracible and by now it's not like any of them had secrets left to lose.

"Oh! Oh hey L-lisa what's up." Her voice was all over the place now.

"Just checking in, all good this week?"

"Huh, oh yeah we're ugh, all good. Nothing to worry about. I c-can talk more later."

"Later? Why not now? Is something the matter?"

"N-no. Nothings wrong. I just, I just was starting to, to...uhh."

It was right then that Lisa realized what was happening. Her embarrassment caused her power to flash back up.

One of Skitter's girls is with her. Skitter free to talk. She's on the receiving end. Started before my call. Girl kept going. Skitter close to cumming. Didn't want to stop for phone call.

"Oh God Taylor really?!?" Lisa did all she could to express her disgust at her friend's antics. Lisa never really got sex, and after getting her power it went from gross to vile. This? This she did not need to deal with.

"S-sorry I ugh it's just been ah a bit since I uh I had time to be with them. It's ah been so busy. I, I, I, hold on." Lisa could hear Taylor move the phone from her head. Distantly a low moan came over the speaker.

Skitter has climaxed.

Thank you power, Lisa grumbled in her mind. The head ache was coming back.

"Sorry, About that" Taylor's voice was lower now, but calmer. "Did you still need to talk?"

A muffled giggle on the other side followed Taylor's question. Lisa's power started to tell her where it was muffled but Lisa stomped that though into the dust.

"I think I've learned enough for today. Have a nice night Taylor. I'll come by and see you tomorrow. We'll get lunch."

"Ok, I'll see you then." The phone caught a brief gasp from Taylor before the line went dead. Lisa sighed. The things she put up with.

Taylor Hebert The Omni-Caster

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

This is what I woke up to on Christmas night. As I turned my head the transparent blue box followed, staying in the center of my vision.

My hand moved through the box, proving that the box wasn't solid. I couldn't think of much else to do in my sleepless haze, and pressed the button to see if the hallucination would continue or disappear.

Numerous more boxes popped up as the strange night continued on.

Taylor Hebert

Str 10

Dex 10

Con 10

Int 14

Wis 12

Cha 10

HP 10/10

MP 18/18

Stamina 10/10

Wait, wait I haven't finished choosing.

As I heard my own voice coming from within my head as the strange night did indeed continue on.

This is what I get for choosing complications first, Please hold on as we are experiencing technical difficulties.

As the voice in my head was talking, I had wandered over to the bathroom to see if the weirdness was being caused somehow by dehydration.

The same flat chested girl greeted me in the mirror as always. My bedhead of curly chocolate hair covered my face, as I brushed it back to keep it from falling into the cup of water I had just poured my self.

A tingling was felt in my chest, as the flannel pajamas I was wearing started to tent out slightly. Tugs were felt on my head as well, and my hair pulled itself as if I had spent hours brushing it.

Another blue box appeared in from of my. It wasn't reflected in the mirror.

?


* * *

That is all is did? You're still only about a full A-cup, maybe a small B. Oh well, at least it got converted to a skill, so we can grind it up so even Emma will be jealous of your curves eventually.

Having dreams where I had a more feminine figure were not anything new, but this was a new way to go about it. Maybe Kurt spiked the eggnog and forgot to tell Danny about it. I've never been drunk before, but I am not seeing why it is a desirable state.

Are you going to acknowledge my presents at all? Is this what an unappreciated unwoven coadjutor feels like? Fine then. I'm not giving you any powers until you say, "I'm Taylor Hebert and I am an ungrateful ass.

In the dream, I pulled the covers back over my head, and waited to go back to sleep.


* * *

Ch. 1: I cast Magic Missle Wardrobe.

The blue light of the morning sun streamed through the window in my eyes, waking me up. Wait, blue light?

The entirety of my vision was filled with the little blue boxes from the bizarre dream last night.

?

All of them were in the vein of having sex with someone. Armsmaster, Miss Militia, Dauntless, Glory Girl, Panacea, Shadow Stalker, head cheerleader of Arcadia, quarterback of Arcadia, Uber, Tattletale, Grue, Circus, Faultline, and so on.

"I don't know who most of these people even are."

That is why you have me to guide you.

"Okay, assuming this is real, why?"

Well as a disembodied voice in your head, I am kind of limited to the things I can do, you know, the whole not having a body thing. Making quests is something I apparently can do. Also you snore, loudly I might add.

"I'm not having sex with about around a third of the capes in Brockton Bay!"

Closer to a tenth really, and careful how loud you talk, you might wake Danny. Don't want him wandering in seeing you talk to yourself. Wonder if he would notice your two new improvements.

As the voice mentions them, my hands had wandered to my chests. My enlarged chest. The small mounts still were fully cupped by my hands, but the mounds were far more noticeable then the bug bites I had before. I shivered as a spike of pleasure from the sensation of the my hands rubbing against the nipples even through the cloth.

Okay, I don't think breasts are normally that sensitive, might just be a reaction to recent change, might not. Either way, we are going to want some padding in your bra, otherwise that might be a weakness in combat. Also, I apparently feel everything you do.

"What right did you have?"

You wanted curves. So I gave them to you. I might of asked if you weren't, you know, ignoring me? If you don't want it to change further then just not don't put experience points or ability points or whatever into the skill. I didn't design the system so we will have to figure that out together. So do you want them, or not?

"Little late now to ask if I want to change my chest or not, isn't it?"?"

Not the breasts, powers. I'll try to be more specific in the future. So in light of that, say "I am Taylor Hebert and I am an ungrateful ass."

"You mean powers like Alexandria or Panacea have?"

Can't do flight yet, and not the degree that Panacea has if she ever cuts loose. But healing is something I can do. Just say the phrase.

"I am Taylor Hebert and I am an ungrateful ass, there are you happy?"

The sound of a small bell chimed.


* * *

We only get one vestige and one soulmeld? What a ripoff. At least it is Naberius that dude is awesome. Start with the closet one, since I don't think any of your bras are going to fit now.

I don't know what I was supposed to do to use these apparent powers, and I tried to make the wardrobe appear.

"Abracadabra."

That didn't work. I tried just willing it to appear and—

A large wooden wardrobe appeared next to my bed without a sound. There wasn't a sound or a shimmering of light, there was just one moment air and suddenly a large hunk of furniture.

In the bottom drawer, were several bras and panties. All fairly lacy. The bras had slight padding which would make my chest look even larger. And, several stockings in white and black.

In the main sections of the wardrobe were ten skirts in various colors, each would be at least knee length, but not much further. Next to them were ten blouses, all were of fairly nice quality, but with a lower neckline than anything I would of normally wore.

You had an okay body even before the change, you just need someone to be a fashion consultant.

Good Idea At The Time

(Автор: volantredx)

There were some days that Victoria Dallon wished she never got out of bed. Between the latest shit with Dean and the last few days of school today was shaping up to be one of those days. After changing into her Alexandria themed PJs she all but collapsed into bed. Sighing she slid a hand under her pillow. Then her fingers brushed against something soft. Pulling it out it was a pair of panties. At first she was shocked she was that messy, but after a moment's inspection she realized that the pair wasn't one she ever wore.

"Amy," she grumbled. Getting up she marched down the hall to her sister's room. After she knocked on the door she could hear rustling from inside the room. Pulling open the door her sister blinked for a moment then blushed.

"Vicky, what-erm-what's up?" God the poor girl sounded like an middle schooler with a crush.

"You forgot something," Vicky said holding up the panties with a finger. Amy snatched them away and threw them into the room.

"Oh god, I-I thought I got everything. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have gone into your room like that I just...just" She started taking fast breaths her eyes started t fill with tears.

"Amy this has got to stop."

"I know, ok. You don't know what it's like." She was shouting now, tears falling freely. "I got to be around you all day and I can't help myself I try and try but I can't stop. I need you Vicky. Don't you get that?"

Vicky knew this wasn't Amy's fault. The way capes would fixate on people, it could get a lot worse than Amy being in her room all the time. Still the poor girl would go mad like this. She needed some sort of relief. Then it hit her. It was stupid and there were so many ways it could go wrong but right now Vicky couldn't say it was worse than nothing. Sliding past her sister she sat on her bed.

"Alright listen, I want to help, but we got to do it on my terms." She hooked her thumbs into the waist band of her PJ pants. "I help you work off your issues once a day, and when I say so. In exchange you got to stop sneaking into my room. No more taking my underwear and no more peaking when I change. Got it?"

Amy nodded mutely, seemingly in a trance.

"Good, in that case..." She pulled her bottoms down to reveal her bare pussy to Amy "Dig in."

"Y-you mean it?" The disbelief was warring with the lust on Amy's face.

"Yeah, for tonight we'll keep things simple. After...well you gotta run everything by me first but if I ok it we'll try it out."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." Amy sank to her knees and crawled her way over to her sister's waiting slit. Victoria had to admit, that was pretty hot. "I don't deserve you," Amy muttered into Vicky's thigh.

Victoria could only moan as her sister began to eat her pussy like a mad woman. As the pleasure coursed through her body Vicky reflected that she had had worse ideas.

The Stray Kitty

(Автор: DoggySoup)

Day 1.

Imp sat there on the chair, the familiar demon mask over her face as she looked down on me. She wagged a finger and clicked her tongue as she looked at the small letter that was taped onto my back. She hadn't even began reading it yet and I didn't want her to. All I wanted was to strangle that god damn brat for making me want to rub myself against Imp's legs and purr all day.

"Honestly, I told you not to mess with them, now look what happens."

"Mew." Shut up.

"Mew? That's it?"

I tried to get up but another rule kicked in and I simply began to groom myself, licking my hands.

"Mew. Me-ow." Fuck you.

Imp sighed.

"Shit," she leaned back in the chair. "Flor's actually away for the week, so I guess you'll be stuck like this until she comes back."

She took off her mask and put it on the desk.

"I should take a video. You'd never show your face in town again."

I wanted to swear. Instead, thanks to Flor's bullshit powers, I purred seductively. Aisha snorted and crossed her legs as she unfolded the letter and gave me a glance. I was just stuck there, sitting on all fours facing her with the dumbest and droopiest grins imaginable.

"Let's read this, shall we?"

"Meow." Whatever.

"Dear Imp," she coughed a couple times for exaggeration. "I've picked up a stray cat. Can we keep her? I know how you liked to be close to our bro so I was thinking that if you had a pet Shadow Stalker you'd feel close. She's well trained."

I purred again as Aisha scrunched up the paper and motioned to toss it at the waste paper basket, but stopped short.

"Fetch?"

I perked up and assumed a humiliating pose that was reminiscent of an eager dog rather than a cat. Aisha threw it and I ran over, picked up the letter and crawled back on my all fours. I plopped the paper into her hands and took satisfaction in her not liking getting my saliva on her.

"Ugh, might buy you an actual toy," she said.

"Mew." Don't.


* * *

Day 2.

Aisha leaned back in the recliner and I followed behind, still unable to get up. It wasn't the crawling that bugged me, it was the fact I had to sway my hips. It was the fact I couldn't speak, or use my hands for anything at all. I couldn't even put clothes on.

She thought it was funny, seeing me look confused as my outfit stared right at me before I tried and managed to scratch my ear with my foot.

She's not the one who can't do anything human at all. I can't even sit on a couch. Aisha tested it. She picked me up and put me on the bed and I just climbed off automatically.

"Today is boring," Aisha moaned while kicking off her shoes. "Mew if you agree, Pussycat."

I just looked at her, unable to glare.

She leaned down and began to scratch my chin. I purred as a response, which made me feel embarrassed and caused me to purr even more. It wasn't even natural sounding, I was acting like somebody trying to pretend to be a sexy cat rather than an actual one.

The villainess who'd become my impromptu caretaker decided to take her socks off and I immediately cursed Flor for the thousandth time as my automatic response was to massage them, much to Aisha's surprise.

"Wow, that's different there, Pussycat. You found something you can do on your own?"

I cringed internally at how relaxed Aisha was over this. I'm naked on all fours slobbering over her toes and she's making jokes about it!

I looked up at Aisha as she looked at me like she got an idea, and somehow my eyes communicated the worry over whatever Regent's fucking ex was plotting to do to me.

She got up and removed her clothes. All of them. I simply sat up staring at her with a stupid grin on my face as Aisha got naked, and watched as she made a pillow with her shirt on the recliner and sat back down on it.

She widened her legs slightly and I crawled up.

I buried my face into her pussy and began licking like it was made of damn honey.

Wetness from my saliva became wetness from Aisha's juices as thin trails and pools of it began to drip and collect in my mouth and on my chin.

All I could do was smile happily and lick my lips. I hated the taste.


* * *

Day 3.

Aisha sat on the couch with her feet up while I spent the whole time engrossed with licking and kissing them. I couldn't stop doing so. My only respite came in the fact that she at least bathed regularly, and I'd gotten used to the taste of her.

My god, I'm remembering in detail how to lick her feet.

Aisha gave me a brief peek. "Hey, you seem to be getting good at that, Kitty."

I simply mewled in response, my body focused elsewhere as Aisha smiled.

"Welp. Time for din dins," she cooed as she got up and walked to the kitchen to grab two bowls of cereal and milk from the fridge.

She placed the one bowl with a spoon on the table and mine on the floor, without a spoon. Flor made it so I couldn't use my hands.

"You should eat."

"Meow." Thanks. I was starving.

My captor sighed at my response. "I can't speak Pussy, Pussy."

I couldn't do anything. Eventually I began to slowly lap it up. Aisha pulled my hair back to help me, at least.


* * *

Day 4.

I hissed as Aisha poured another bucket of soapy water over me. I was handcuffed by wrists and ankles and I still couldn't use my powers. I could barely control my own body as everyhing I tried to do triggered another of Flor's orders.

This gave me time to think. Aisha was really eager to help, but I had my suspicions it was because of the fact that Flor did this to me. One of the people she was meaning to focus on snuck out and turned me into a pet.

It still feels weird to me. I'm a pet. I'm Aisha's pet till Flor gets back.

Aisha stepped into the bath, wearing nothing for the sole reason that she felt that it would make me feel more comfortable. It didn't.

I can't help but stare at her as she sits on my lap, my legs feeling her wet skin touch mine. I felt her hand gently hold me up as she slowly scrubbed my stomach with a sponge, working upwards.

Aisha smiled at me. "It looks like you are a little hard, Pussy."

She began to scrub my thighs slowly after spending far too long with my chest, and by the end of it I was glad that there was water everywhere to hide my own.


* * *

Day 5.

We spent the day in routine. Breakfast. TV on couch. Imp does some phonecalls to her partners. Imp disappears. I spend the time alone doing nothing as boredom overtakes me. Imp comes back and we have dinner. More TV. Bathing. Bed.

I found myself staring at the door as I crawled about the house. Not because of any attempts to escape, but because I needed Aisha back. I couldn't do anything without her, and I had nobody when I was in the house alone.

The door clicked and slowly turned. Aisha came back.

"Did you wait? I went out and got you some stuff, cause y'know," she smiled. "You need something to wear."

I crawled over to her, hoping she wasn't going to leave me naked all the time. Aisha cackled in response, slowly dipping her hand down and pulling out a colar with a bell on it.

I purred and made many cat noises as Aisha began to laugh in earnest.

"Okay, now for your toy."

I knew it was going to be a dildo from the moment I saw the collar. What I didn't expect was a harness to hold it into me.


* * *

Day 6.

I'm enjoying this more than I can admit, not that I can speak. I had nothing since the golden morning. My parents had fled, I'd lost what friends I had and all I really lived on was what I could scrounge up from whatever muggers and rapists I could stop.

I knew that nobody would bat an eye if I was gone. Nobody was looking for me now.

Aisha was seated on the carpet, slowly rubbing my stomach with her finger idly while laying on an arrangement of pillows. She was practically glowing, and I was barely awake. All there was was the softness of the pillows, Aisha's heat, the tickle of her nail on my skin and her soft voice.

"Good kitty kitty," she murmured to me. "Good kitty. Good job." I shivered a little and purred.

She leaned over and picked up the dildo, making sure to pause as her breasts were over me.

I simply couldn't help it if I lightly slapped one of them. They dangled. She'd understand.

Aisha did understand. She gasped, looked at me and gave a sinister grin.

Taking the toy, she slowly slid it into herself, making it as wet as possible. Once the juices were thick enough to be mistaken for a coat of lamination, she threw it.

"Fetch."

I scrambled on my all fours and picked it up in my mouth, wagging my hips.

"Not like that," Aisha scolded. "The way I showed you."

I placed it down and took the toy into my mouth lengthwise. Aisha rewarded me for going deeper than last time.


* * *

Day 7.

"...And done. You can get up Shadow Stalker."

I slowly climbed to me feet, covering myself.

"Can I have my costume back?" I asked.

Imp cackled. "Sure, but you'd have to buy each piece individually."

I blinked. "I don't have any money, though. Just gimmie the clothes, okay?"

The villainess shrugged and handed me the pile of rags. I didn't like the patchwork repairs I did to the cape, so I made a note to buy a new one. I quickly found my underwear and began to put it on.

"If you come back and try shit again, Flor said she's gonna make you dress up like a French Maid and have you run about serving me all day." Imp warned, jumping to sit on the table. She began to idly kick her legs.

"She'll even make you call everyone Master or Mistress and she can even make it so you follow orders from the right person, like me."

I gave pause at that, halfway through putting my pants on over my underwear.

"I'm... I'm not under her rules right now, am I?"

Flor simply smiled at that.

"Don't come back, I might not undo it next time."

Somehow that felt like the opposite to me.


* * *

Day 8.

Flor was sitting in the back yard, reading one of Imp's classics. She was planning to read this one next and it was a fun game to subtly foreshadow events in the stories she was reading. She smiled when she remembered everyone suggesting Imp re-brand herself as 'Nobody' for the clean slate while she read the Odyssey.

They liked doing those sorts of things to Imp. Playing pranks and giving presents.

As Shadow Stalker made an entrance that was made to catch Flor and only Flor's attention, she smiled inwardly.

I get to give Aisha the greatest gift of all, she thought. And maybe it's one for Shadow Stalker, too.

Shadow Stalker's exposed hand reached out and Flor rolled her eyes as she tapped it.

"We weren't joking about the French Maid thing," she said.

Shadow Stalker faked her horror terribly.

God-Verse Omake

(Автор: DoggySoup)

Taylor swung her spear with intent to knock out her opponent's legs. Her sparring partner, Andrew, dodged backwards and swung upwards wth his sword, intending to finish the fight before his agile opponent crippled him. Taylor barely moved back in time and was merely cut in the chest, rather than the neck and chin.

She touched the thin cut and felt the blood on her skin and the rip in her garment. She grinned, and stepped forwards to retalia—

"Enough!" Bellowed the goddess who was observing. Everyone in the Winslow Arena knelt and faced her, her husband and the many servants who catered to them.

Darkness poured from their seats, knee high and almost like a liquid. The servants stopped before Taylor, The goddess looking down.

"General Hebert," she said. "Wash off that weakness and get changed. It's unbecoming of a general to bleed."

She turned to Andrew, her sparring partner. "Good job, Andrew. You've done well enough to have a child of the Light Priestesshood draw blood for you."

Andrew gulped at that mention. The Light Preistesshood, a warrior cult that was wiped out by the Iron Titans, like so many gods. The war against that monstrosity was nearly impossible, but earth survived.

Taylor was a General born of a General. A woman who was simply bred for war, for servitude to the gods.

Taylor got up and walked to the changing rooms, glancing at the Red-headed shade-bearer who stood behind the married couple; Brius, god of the Night and Hessia, Goddess of Taking Spoils. Their eyes connected, and Taylor smiled gently.


* * *

"I do not care for my followers," Maxwellium said slowly, "But they demand sacrifices. You know that, tarred couple."

The word washed over them like a punch to the gut. Brius and Hessia were always the black sheep of the Pantheon. Too violent, too seperate. Even gods got upset at all the little injustices they had to face, all the mortals who were afraid.

"But everyone is only sending one follower for Raphel's hunt! Why do we have to send two?"

Maxwellium glared that Brius. "Because there are two of you. You haven't even married yet, and the Oracle said that this is for the best."

"Damn the Oracle," Hessia cut in. "Damn her and the seer."

There was a tense pause.

"I'll send another. One of my own, as you demanded."

Maxwellium smiled. "Good."


* * *

"Albert, Emma. Come to my quarters."

The two followers quickly and silently followed their god and goddess, General Hebert at her side.

Hessia and Brius led the pair to the holy bedchamber, closing the door behind them as Hebert stood guard.

Taylor knew the doors were thin, but she knew not to react to what sounds would come out.

Hessia jumped onto the bed, giggling as Brius simply sighed and sat down.

"You've been selected," his wispy and indistinct voice said. "Raphel is having a hunt, and we selected both of you."

Emma and Albert tried their hardest to hide their subtle terror. Hessia did not like fear.

"As a pre-emptive reward, we shall bless you both," he smiled.

Hessia opened her robes to reveal that she wore nothing underneath, and so did Brius.

"Come," Hessia ordered. "Take your prize, drink, eat and then rest." The two followers shed their garments and crawled onto the bed.

Meanwhile, Taylor silently shed a tear. Emma was slow, she was weak. She wouldn't survive the hunt. Hessia wouldn't care that her General's long time ally and friend would die the next night. Not without help.


* * *

Emma was saved, but at a cost. Taylor failed to hide herself as she sabotaged the hunt and was caught with her spear stuck in the jaws of one of Raphel's children.

They were going to execute her. They were going to bury her alive along with the weak, sniveling girl she saved.

Emma simply hugged Taylor as both of them were shackled together in the Pantheonic dungeons.

"I'm sorry you did this," she sobbed. "You shouldn't have helped me."

Taylor simply smiled. She was too busy to be with her old ally on most days, but she was relaxed at the idea that at least they could spend time together as they died, grim as it was.

"I'm not," she smiled. "You know how awful it was being Hessia's general? Ugh. My mother never put up with that sort of stuff as Sabrinator's general."

Emma looked shocked for a moment.

"Oh Brius," the former general mimicked, "You are so big I can barely fit it all in! Oh wow thank you!"

Emma simply blushed and buried her face in Taylor's lack of chest, trying to hide the embarrassment.


* * *

They were lowered into the pit in the middle of the field slowly, both of them unable to escape. Eventually it stopped when they were down far enough for the grate to be lifted and locked in place, somewhat dulling the jeers from the crowd.

"They didn't even give us any last words," Emma mumbled.

Taylor simply patted the redhead softly, smiling down at her in the dark, cramped space. She pulled Emma close, smothering her.

Seconds later, they poured the spiders and scorpions in. They poured them thickly enough to cover the light above and the mass of stinging insects eventually filled the hole enough to reach the top and drown the screams of the occupants inside.

Hessia simply frowned as she sat on her chair in the pantheon. Keydanne's glow made it hard to look at her and Maxwellium. Dynatus leaned back in his throne of frozen time, while Rubis and Myessy looked uncomfortable. The last person to betray the gods was Anvus, and he was replaced by Wallista and Christ, the real toolmakers of the gods.

All was well as another execution was creatively devised by the Twins and the Oracle.

Then the bugs attacked. With that, Heebree, the Goddess of Plagues was born.


* * *

Maxwellium grabbed the Oracle and flung her into a wall. She bounced off the floor and groaned weakly.

"You didn't tell me this would happen!" he screeched.

"New gods aren't something I can predict," replied the oracle as she picked herself off the ground. "All I knew was that the Black sheep would be humiliated, not how!"

A wall of metal erupted, pointing at her neck.

Maxwellius snarled. "Don't you pretend you didn't plan for this."

"I'm not," the Oracle stated firmly.

Maxwellium sighed, closed his eyes and turned to leave.

"By the way, the chances you live through this year are 25.564 percent."

Maxwellium walked even brisker at that news.

Bang Bang

(Автор: NemiTheNen)

There was no choice. The dead knew, of course, they knew he did not want to, that though he had that power that there was no fire left in him, that was why he couldn't hold them, hold their loyalty except for Oni Lee.

Lung had no fire, it had been extinguished with every other flame in Kyushu. He had no wish but his own comfort.

So, when Leviathan came once again to put out all lights, there was no choice. If he did not fight then he would not even be able to hold the weak normal humans, all would turn their face from him, and then the money would dry up and he would loose his comfort, even if he moved to another city.

So of those of his people that could, he had evacuated, the most he put into the fortress coffins to drown, and went to the meaningless fight against the impossible.

She was there of course, and because she was weak she died.

Except she hadn't.

The Bay didn't sink, his people hadn't drowned in the shelters, had touched his arms and face and uttered blessings and prays and thanks onto him and all his ancestors; and she had...

What was the stupid fucking cunt even thinking?

He knew she was not a brute, that she was weak. But she, it seemed, didn't.

She took the city, and he didn't care, he had his comfort and his people, and that was enough. Anything else was pointless.

She took the city and she...It was pointless. But she didn't know that.

He looked upon what she had wrought, and turned his thoughts backwards. Chivalrous organizations.

It was work, it was not comfortable. It was a fight, and it was not pointless.


* * *

"Lung's moving in on my territory."

Lisa made a few marks on her big wall map, back to her glowering friend, and stuck another pin in. "No he's not."

"Yes he is, I've seen the ABB tags all over."

"So have I, and they haven't been crossing yours out, he's coming up right against you, he's been up against you for a while but you didn't notice it because it's in the worse areas. He's also mowing into Merchant territory."

And Lisa hadn't told her. Why not? "What's Lung's game?" Skitter's voice buzzed from around the room as she walked up to Lisa, stood at her side and stared at the map. Lung wasn't getting near any of the other Undersider's territory, except for where they abutted against hers. "He's gunning for me, he knows I'm the leader."

"Actually, judging by the intel I'm getting about how the ABB have radically changed their operations, I think he's flirting with you."


* * *

Lisa was going to a meeting, not with refugees, not with her mercenaries, but with her friends. [Not all. Alec.] Yeah it was rare for Alec to have anyone he could be realy close to. [Important.]

Why? Her power was silent. Well, not like he wants the Dragon-D, does he? [He'd be totally down for watching and he likes Taylor. Would have been willing to be with her in Lung's body.] Something nagged, but her power didn't give anything else up except detailing from past observations of Alec's humor how he'd would find it hilarious to make Lung do a [woman's] stripper routine for Taylor. You know, if he wasn't afraid of being dinner.

She shoved down that thought path, thankful she had thought ahead and Regent would only be teleconfrencing over. She didn't need more of those kind of observations crowding in her head, she just needed to get Alec on her side. [Important. Everyone on my side.] Her steps remained sure and her smile pleasent. Everyone? [All. Important. Majority. All.] "Huh." Yeah Brian [IMPORTANT] No duh, power. It's not like I set them up in the first place.

So, Lisa walked, and made mental notes on what foods she should have imported, [Tired, not a main worker here. Dark under the eyes, signs of dehydration: food intake is down recently. Does not realize. Busy. No, common. Low energy also common. Main workers are maintain appitite and energy levels, even increased. Psycological? Gait is odd, hemeroids, constipation. Unconsious muscle tic — idiopathic. Potassium defficency. Magnesium Defficency leading to Potassium defficency. Alter foods provided. Check to see if anyone is scalping.]

She nodded at Brian [Concerned, hopeful, analytic. Thinks Lung is too strong to need weird ploys, therefore he is respecting us. Must convince,] and Bitch as she entered the meeting room. [Did not expect her. She respects Taylor. Worried? Doesn't want the team to split up. Does want the team stronger, conflucted feelings. Not a concern to convince.]

That was an odd thought considering how her power had been so insistant before. "Team meeting," Regent chirped, "Without our fearless leader, even!"

[The consideration is endangering.] ! [Must look out for what is best for the team, must seem to be looking out for Taylor and Grue.]

"Well yes, I have discovered the reasons for the ABB's strange behavior and have already informed her."

Regent [blinked] behind his mask and sprawled himself out on the loveseat, his feet steaching out off frame. "This is going to be interesting then."

"Lung has a thing for Skitter."

"So, we're going to be whoring out the boss?"

[Danger!] "What? No!" She glanced at Grue, [Not from him.]

"Sure as fuck sounds like it," he shruged, "I mean, we're meeting here behind her back."

"Enough," Brian said, "Let's hear it."


* * *

Lisa shrugged, "Taylor believes me when I told her, but she still thinks it's wrong at the same time. Either way, she is willing to meet with him to find out what is going on. We," authoritatively siding with Taylor, good, "don't think that it's a plot or anything, but that doesn't mean it isn't. As it is there are two responces both the Undersiders and the ABB can take. He can continue the friendly overtures or stop them."

"Which could lead to a rampaging dragon," Brian noted.

"Right, each option can lead to escalation. The question is, what will make that the least likely? Taylor going or not? Basic Punnett Square. The question is, how do we feel about it?"

Regent snorted and waved his scepter at the camera, "No, it's what we think he'll react to not getting a dragon rider." [Actually managing a modicum of concern. Relationship has been beneficial to his behavior. Psychopathy was mostly trauma based, exacerbated by his power granting him such levels of control over other people. Being forced on equal terms with someone is causing an adjustment for the better.] [IMPORTANT.]

"I don't know yet," she said as they all looked at her, "I need more information. I've had some of Leet's old stuff salvaged," she kept talking through the derisive snorts, "His cameras were pretty solid, had to be for their schtic. Traded most of it to Toybox for a few fix ups," it was Leet's after all. "So now I have an invisible flying spycam with shitty range. That can be fixed with Skitter's power — I tell her where I need to look and then she has one of her bugs steer it around."

"This is stupid," Bitch growled out. "It's her fucking choice."

"If you were just spying, then you wouldn't call us all together for it, you'd ask Skitter's opinion," someone said.

"Because I need to know how all of you feel about Skitter hooking up with Lung; he's her type and he's earnest." Lisa basked in the uproar and attention. Surprise, consideration, relief.

What. She focused on Brian.

[Likes Skitter, respects her. Enjoys the benefits of the relationship including the fact that her ass is incredibly tight and she can wrap her knees around his neck whil — ] Enough of that! "You've been spying already." His statement fed her more data. [Fairly certain, wants to know, needs to know. Loyal. Fond. Has been fond of her and remains fond of her. But isn't incredibly attracted to her. Is not fond of her in a romantic way. Why enter into a relationship? Felt pressured into having a relationship with her because she was persistent and there was no reason to say no. Does not want a relationship. Wants her hurt even less. Hides his dislike from Skitter.]

Well, fuck. I completely misread that. "He's been freeing the girls in the whorehouses," and making sure they get first picks from supplies and controls to the bombs. Any one who breaks a rule, and that includes messing with the girls when they don't want it gets a bomb in their skulls care of Bakuda as the first strike. Second strike means they end up as fertilizer in the farm plots. Oh, and he's accepting non Asians in his territory."

That had been the biggest reveal, not Lung's change of heart, but rather the fact that the ABB started producing their own food though careful demolition of buildings and application of spacial warping and timespeed bombs. It only made sense. They hadn't stolen from the PRT like the E88, and they didn't seem to have as extensive support network like the Undersiders or the PRT. Bakuda was even looking for a way to blow up pollutants so they could purify water quicker. [No, make a fish farm. Tilapia. No. They preserved some of the fish from restaurants. Goldfish and — THE FUCKERS HAVE FUCKING LOBSTER.] That many of the Asian immigrants came from poor, and thus often rural, backgrounds when fleeing persecution in their homelands was icing — they had the institutional memory to do at least some of it well. "I need to observe him more, but how do we feel about that?"

"B can get the D however she wants," Regent said dismissively. [Disturbed, amused. That a monster like Lung can change so quickly. Correctly suspects that Lung has freed some of the women out of his compound where their hate and stress induced madness would blend in with the rest of the the populace and die without getting his hands dirty.] A rackish smile, "I know just the person to watch her back." [IMPortant]

"Her choice," Brian said with a shrug, and Bitch snorted agreement. "Not going to say no to ABB alliance right off the back."

"I'll be Skitter's backup," Imp said.

[SMILE.] Lisa smiled. "That's a great idea, Imp."

Slaveverse AU

(Автор: DoggySoup)

I stood in my harnesses as Madison and Emma walked outside. The air wasn't cold but a cloud covered the sun and both Sophia and I didn't like it, not that we should complain. Being upset is bad.

"So they've been set up," Madison curtly noted. "Should we go to town now?"

They are actually taking us to town. I should be terrified but I can't. Being scared is bad. I can't be scared, I should just focus on the now, like a good girl.

Emma simply smilued and walked up to me. She looks so pretty now, I wish I wasn't like this. I wish I could be able to speak and play and I shouldn't be jealous. Being jealous is bad. Wrong. Emma slowly began to pet me and I simply closed my eyes and enjoyed the contact. Hess looked jealous as she stood next to me. She shouldn't be jealous. Being jealous is wrong.

The buzz that made her whine sharply in her mask brought both Madison and Emma's attention to her. The click of the metal implant in her temple and then the mild hiss caught mine.

She was bad, I told myself. Bad Hess. That's what happens when you get upset.

Madison scowled at Hess and turned to Emma.

"Why's yours so good?" she asked. "My little Sophie is always thinking the wrong thing and getting hazed."

"You know how my parents have two?" Emma asked. I perked up subtly at this.

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

"They're a family. We knew them before they got caught up with the mandatory checkups, and I was there every day at the auction house when they were due to be released for sale after training. The day I got them, some guy was willing to split them up," Emma explained, still petting me. "Me and my parents couldn't handle that. We bought all three."

Madison took a moment to watch me and Emma. "Have they..."

"Heavens, no! That's the reason this whole thing started, you know. Put them in a mindset where they'll never get powers or in the case of your little dear, make sure they never use them."

Madison shrugged as a response. "Let's go," she said.


* * *

Pulling the carriage with Hess was relaxing, especially with Emma at the reins. She used simple light tugs at the reins that were connected to our nipples to keep us taking the correct turns and gentle whips to make sure we kept posture. Hess got slightly more than me, which meant I was being good. I have to be good.

"Hey Ems," Madison began. "You mentioned you knew Hebert. What was she like before then?"

"She was almost like a sister," Emma replied.

I remembered that, but I couldn't dwell on it. Being sad is wrong. I have to be happy, and look at the good things. I have my parents. I have a loving mistress. I don't get whipped for speaking out of turn.

"When was she taken away?" Madison continued.

"She was about eight at the time. I've had her as a servent ever since I bought her and only this year have I used her as a steed," Emma explained. "I'm going to Winslow because they allow us to take our slaves to school."

Madison gasped as we slowed down to a walk. I could see another carriage cross our path. A man and a woman carrying it.

"We shouldn't use that word," Madison murmured. "It brings up-"

"It doesn't matter what word we use, it is what it is." Emma pulled on our reins to stop, and we did so. All there was was the gentle sway of the reins and rings attached to me and Sophie in the breeze and the sounds of people walking about. "I don't want to butter up what I paid money to do to another human."

They unhooked us from the carriage and took us to the stables outside the city centre. Our reins were handed to one of the men there.

"Wash and bathe them, no whippings for the brunnette. The black girl is rebellious, don't go too far." Emma said. "We'll be back in an hour."

Looking at the stableboy I felt a tinge of dissapointment. Only an hour? Oh dear.


* * *

Emma led me up the stairs to both her and my room. I was busy thinking of good things. We are a family, families have sex. of couse my mom would have sex with Alan. Of course my dad would have sex with Zoe. It's like we really are sisters.

Somehow the mantra wasn't working for me, and it didn't work for Emma. She was frowning by the time we reached the top. I reminded myself to be good, and that Emma's never hit me once. It's not my fault, she doesn't blame me.

"I don't get it!" she snapped, banging against the door. I flinched at the loud sound. That's all it was. "Why the fuck are they having sex with your mom and dad instead of being a couple? Huh!?"

I'm a good girl. Good girls don't mention that we can't say no. Good girls follow orders.

Emma slid down to the floor, leaning on the door with her hands on her head. "Fuck, this is why people hate this. I thought we'd be happy under the same roof, not this."

Emma is calm, which was good. I'm supposed to make Emma happy, that's what I do. Dad makes Zoe happy, Mom makes Alan happy and I make Emma happy.

"We can't refuse," I say against my own volition. I immediately regret speaking as Emma shoots me a look.

"Does it feel good?"

I stay silent. I was bad, I should be good and listen to Zoe. Zoe said not to talk about it.

"Answer me!" Emma barked.

"I don't know!" I replied, a little fearful. I stood deathly still, still looking ahead. I'm not allowed to follow things with my eyes, that was the first rule I was taught. I'm a good girl. I won't make her sad. I won't be sad.

Emma got up and looked at me then the bed before slowly grabbing my lead.

She dragged me over and then sat me on the bed. I could feel my heart race, my heartbeat thumping in my head. Emma slowly moved her hand over my breast and touched the ring there gently. "We could do this," she muttered. "Maybe we could understand them."

I took a deep breath, and Emma followed suit.

"I'm sorry, it's... it's just..."

I know. I understand her pain.

I did the good thing to do. I gave her a hug.


* * *

"Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack!"

The chants filled the old church. It was designed simply to hide. A lair, masterfully altered to function as the headquarters for a rebellion. Alan Gramme was to thak for such a feat.

"Jack! Jack! Jack!"

Several dozens of followers from all walks of life were listening to Jack Slash. Escapees, former slaves, former masters and many more chanted.

Jacob Cutter smiled at the gathering before him.

"Yes! I am Jack! I am the man who will guide us to restoring the world as it should be!" he called out. "You have all realized that the peace that was brought to us was merely an illusion! They are taking away our freedom, our livlyhoods!"

The crowd jeered.

"My own parents hid me to avoid a terrible fate! Alan the Terraformer had to kill his own wife and daughter!"

Jack pulled out a dagger from his pocket and held it high, making the blade glint to everyone in the crowd as he turned it. He brought the knife down onto the desk in front of him and his powers helped him cleave the wood in two.

Several members gasped and flinched before the dust settled. Jack smiled and pointed the blade at the crowd.

"What we do is not revolution, but revenge. We aren't saints, and we aren't going to heaven. We'll be bringing hell to earth."

Even more cheers. Eventually refreshments were served, and Jack walked to his chambers.

He walked into the room slowly, then pulled out a glass and a bottle of scotch.

"Cherie," he said. He knew she was there.

Cherie Vasil sighed and rubbed her arm. "The crowd was as you expected; happiness and righteous anger. There was two with outlying emotions."

"Really?" Jack asked, pouring his glass.

"Alexis White was simply angry. Mark Heart was scared."

Jack took a sip and thought for a moment. "Mark is the spy. Alexis was hit too close for comfort with my mention of family, but Mark must be scared for my plans. Kill him."

Cherish moved for the door but Jack snapped his fingers, signaling her that he wasn't finished.

"Also, are the new spies here? The ones from Europe?"

"Yes," Cherie said. "The Citykiller and the Germans are here."

Jack turned around to face his ally. "Don't be like that. What your father did was not your fault."

"They are right," Cherie countered. "He was a monster."

"That doesn't mean they were right about you."

"I feel like one, Jacob."

"I know," he said, holding the bottle out. "Drink?"

Cherie took it and gulped a large swig before handing it back. Jack grinned and watched her go, taking a moment to peek at her rear end. He needed someone to take up the mantle if he died, and Cherie was one of his eight candidates. She was tricksy, manipulative, ambitious and wanted to do good. Sadly, she was filled with self-doubt and had amoral tendancies. She could ruin the rebellion single handedly on a whim if she was upset.

He thought about one of his other candidates, the spy known as Madison. She was eager to look for young minds to attract to the cause, especially after what happened to Sophia. Apparently she was on a mission right now, scoping a promising girl in Brockton Bay. Hopefully they'll join. If not, the family dies and the slaves are euthanized.

He moved to grab his tumbler when it shifted away from him across the table. He smirked and turned to the assassin.

"Citykiller," he said. "Good to see you."

"Shatterbird," the woman replied. "I'm Shatterbird."

Jack took a moment to gaze at the woman before him. She was naked, clothed only in stained glass like a dress. Jack would have killed to have a trump power at that moment, an ability to make it all fall away.

He looked up at the woman and although her face was hidden well her brown cheeks were flushed. She caught him staring and she liked it.

Jack grinned. "Are the others coming?" he asked.

Shatterbird closed the door. The light from outside faded, and jack hit the lightswitch across the room gently with his fingernail.

"Now, about your payment..."

Red Ice

(Автор: Troutfish2333)

The filth had clung to her. The decayed blood though.

That is what she felt the most.

In despair she became something more.

She didn't Much care for it honestly.

The filth she rejected.

The blood...

That she kept.

Brown and rotting. Stinking, seething the mass churns steaming hot bursts of red spreading.

Powers. She decides. Severely limit her options.

Well she decides after her mind is her own again anyway.

Madness. She decides in the same moment. Is rather more trouble than it's worth.

Calm comes slowly.

She bides her time.

She keeps quiet. The only hints of a Parahumam about are a few traumatized muggers and a couple would be rapists.

Always the same story.

A rail thin brunette. Walking, shoulders back but head down as if in thought.

The moment she is accosted her back flays apart blood spilling out in a torrent seperating into wing or tentacles.

She stays hidden otherwise.

She's no interest in capes villain or hero.

She's no interest in the PRT.

Or the Gangs.

That comes to a crashing halt when Aegis careens through her living room wall. Followed a moment later by a fully transformed Hookwolf. Chased by a very, very irate looking Battery.

Danial Hebert is thrown heavily from his place by the DVD player. The crunch of bone and wood where he struck the wall across the room draws a ragged scream from Taylor.

It draws forth rage

Her blood and the old blood. And new blood from those few idiots she took from.

Singing, and Surging, and Aching.

Flaying her spine, her ribs, her chest and breasts. there is no flesh only the flying shards of rust colored hail and the shrieking wail of of a teen girl with no lungs no heart no more patience for the ones who have now harmed her father.

Red ice forms wings and slashing whips.

A thin tendril makes contact. Flows over metal and blades, coats and surounds and holds. Slams into the others.

The running battle through her home finished as two hero's and a villain are dragged none to gently back into her presence.

"Enough." Growls Taylor Hebert. Features pale white. Voice echoed like a choir of thousands in the shards of blood.

A Price of Pride and Blood

(Автор: SamePardi)

Sophia growled as she once again surveyed her surroundings. She wasn't being held in a proper cell, just trapped in a kneeling position by constraints in the middle of a loading dock.One side of the room was open and round with a enormous circular door to match. The other side was clearly meant as a docking station and filled with expensive tools she didn't recognize or understand. She'd already passed out once testing herself against the shock generating constraints so now she was stuck waiting, though not sure what for.

She tried not to jump as the alarm klaxon started. Instead she shifted her focus to the circular door as it slowly, but quietly, slid open. The light from the bay spilled out and cut away the shadows that were cast on the twenty meter tall instrument of war. Sophia couldn't help but blink as she recognized the vehicle. "Maddarms?" Her words came out as a question. Certainly she'd heard of the new tinker in town and seen his giant robot but nobody expected him to have a base anywhere near this level.

The mech rode the flames of its many thrusters into position in front of the dock and paused. Dozens of arms suddenly extended from the walls and held the mech in place. With a hiss of equalizing pressure the cockpit opened to reveal its occupant. Sophia blinked as she got a better look at the form revealed by the skin-tight purple and yellow pilot suit. They were tall and not very well endowed but definitely female, and maybe a bit on the young side.

As the pilot slid out of their seat and onto the dock there were a few brief flashes of light. Sophia had to blink away the spots for a moment and when she did their attire was entirely different. Now they were wearing a dark purple power armor that mimicked their form underneath and had an armored cowl surrounding the backs and sides of their neck up to about their chin. When the pilot turned to look at her she could just make out a pair of softly glowing white eyes behind the dark tinted glass that hid her face.

"Hey! The fuck is going on!" Sophia shouted belligerently. There was a deep current of fear running through her, but that just made her even more determined not to show it.

"Oh. I almost forgot about you," The young woman said in dry tone. She then turned to walk towards Sophia. Surprisingly the glass covering her face suddenly retraced in four different directions, despite its lack of seams, and revealed a familiar face though with pure white eyes.

"Hebert! What the fuck!? Let me go you weak little bitch!" Sophia shouted at the girl.

Taylor just chuckled but it was a dark defeated thing. "You know, I'm glad you're here Sophia. You have no idea what it's been like all this time with nobody to talk to."

Sophia growled, "So what? You trapped me here because you were lonely?"

The smile the young brunette gave her was sad but then she snapped her fingers and a gag blinked into existence in Sophia's mouth, "Not at all. In fact, just a couple weeks ago I was ready to thank you. I thought I triggered in that locker you see. When my mind broke and I looked into the void... You see I woke up so full of ideas..."

"PHO told me I was a tinker, and I was happy! I could be a hero. The kind of hero a useless cunt like you could never be: the kind that actually helps people." Taylor smiled fondly then frowned. "They were wrong of course, but I didn't know that then. I built my first implant right away with just some spare alarm clock parts and a smart phone I spent most of my money to buy."

Sophia glared at the girl who looked at her with a slight smirk. Then with a flourish of her right hand Taylor was suddenly holding a nugget of pure gold. Her eyes went wide at the sight.

"No material problems. Everything I could ever want... free." Taylor spat the word like the worst curse. "I kept going. Built my pocket dimension, my armor, then this base. I finally built the Maddarm Crusader over there and took my place among the heroes of this city... But I got curious. I had to know where it came from. So I built the viewer and once more gazed into the void... Only this time it looked back."

The supposed hero's monologue was interrupted by a screeching sound that filled the air and cut into Sophia's mind like an instant headache. Sophia looked around for the source but didn't find it. Only then did she realize the gag was gone. "The fuck was that?" She asked but Taylor just looked towards the door leading further into the base.

"Fuck, what are you even keeping me here for? Did just want to gloat about getting powers? Fuck you, Hebert." Sophia barked out.

"Gloat? No. Oh no." Taylor looked back at her meeting her eyes, only now her irises were blood red. "This is a confession. Possibly the only one I'll ever get to make." The sound was back but louder this time.

Sophia felt her adrenaline surge as her head once more felt like it was being cracked open from the inside. "Fuck, Hebert... The fuck is that?"

"The beginning of the end." Taylor replied in a dead voice.

Suddenly the lights in the loading bay went out. It was only for a moment but when they were returned there was another figure standing over Sophia. This one was dressed in a white and gold variation of what Taylor was wearing, though with much more decorative flair to it. It was also impossible not to notice her body's near porn star proportions. "Oh, is she for me, Taylor?"

"Of course, your highness. By now I'm well aware of how you like your midnight snacks." Taylor started with a slight smile.

"Oh please, Taylor, no need for the formalities, you're my fiancee after all." The woman said then snapped her fingers. Suddenly a fourth person was standing next to her. "Take her to get chipped, sex slave model of course. Then see she makes it to our chambers. The Duchess and I shall be along shortly."

Sophia stared at Taylor who looked back with a brief look of apology in her eyes. Then it hardened into a dispassionate gaze. It was the last thing Sophia saw before she fell into the void.


* * *

Spoiler: The Premise

Taylor accidentally taps into the tech base of an inter-dimensional vampire empire. She then marries into the royal family and becomes duchess of Earth Bet in an attempt to save it from becoming a mere 'cattle world'.

Aftermath

(Автор: ArnaudB)

In a post-Aftermath world. Taylor Hebert was kept at a youth camp, one filled with childish play of dominance, bullying and rape. Her suffering life changed when she received the Gift, became one of those with that power, that of the rulers that overturned the claims of the powerless.

Leave all hope behind, leave all hope behind. This is a challenge for depravity.


* * *

-Taylor ran to her hideout, away from her tormentor and to the place where she painfully created what she would need to escape. Before she could Sophia caught her and she was submitted to humiliation. Sophia spoke of Taylor low worth, their hopeless fate in camp, of Emma whose growing prettiness got her an attention from a Ruler that Sophia wasn't able to shield from endless rape. Sophia drew a parallel with Taylor's situation as she raped Taylor, couldn't do anything to prevent it. Sophia used both men and dildo that passed despite the rulers.

Taylor hold herself back from turning her aggressors matter into another kind of matter, too many witnesses for her to remove without bringing rulers's attention. Still she didn't remain inactive and prepared one boy footing so that a grievous fall would distract them from raping her.—

-A female Ruler arrived on the premise. Know but usually not involved. She requisitioned Taylor, saying against Sophia's protest that Taylor was perfect for what she had in mind. That made Sophia and her followers snort. Taylor followed the blonde who made a show of possessively taking Taylor, wondering what she would do with the Ruler apparently interested in domination. Once inside the The Ruler's room, she overturned Taylor's expectations as she commented on how Taylor had been holding back from killing them, quickly revealing knowing Taylor's power over matter. Panicked, Taylor almost attacked and the Ruler named Lisa explained that she wanted Taylor to get her out from here.—

-Taylor accepted to remove the bomb and trackers in Lisa's body, but was uncomfortable being focused while Lisa might do something to her. With the risk of another officer walking in, she tied up a flustered Lisa, who noted that they wouldn't surprised if they found Lisa's bound in a submissive play. Then Taylor placed her hands on Lisa's body to help focus and manhandle her, turning the bomb into harmless matter and severing the implants.—

-Because the guards and Rulers very warned about Lisa's status would take notice of her lack of implants, Taylor took the uniform and dressed Lisa as a pleasure girl: naked, with hands chained, feet bound, hairs dirtied and changed color with Taylor's power. They would pretend Taylor was a Ruler, her ability made the adjustments to the uniform fit her. They went to the gate where Lisa made Taylor use her knowledge about the two guards screwing each others up this morning, hence why they hadn't recognized Taylor.—

-Tayor and Lisa moved through the devastated city. Taylor seeing the changes for the first time since she was imprisoned in the camp. A woman tried to attack Taylor, who used her power to stop the attacker. Then they met Victoria Dallon, Glory, a battered young girl who struggled to do some good. Taylor asked how she managed to stay alive and free despite the Ruler's dominance. Lisa answered that it was because she had a ranked member in the Ruler, Glory grunted but acknowledged it, and noted that it was time she tried again to reason her sister. Puzzled Taylor and Lisa followed her. They witnessed a place filled with plant, Victoria attacked the fallen hospital though people around here just ignored her.—

-The answer came quickly as Victoria's sister, Panacea the fallen healer and a powerful Ruler, came to greet her sister. A fight between Panacea and Victoria went on, while Amy greeted both Taylor and Lisa because it was unusual that her sister brought people here.—

-Victoria lost, and got fucked by the plants while Amy watched and offered drinks to her guests.—

-Amy revealed that she knew who Lisa was, although she mistakenly assumed that Taylor the Ruler and Lisa were playing a public-display turn-on play. Moreso because she heard of the rumors of Lisa being fucked up by a lot of other Rulers. Lisa shyly admitted her identity, then complained about how those inconsiderate people had made her pleasure of mere sex vanish by injuring her pussy and ass. Kindly enough Amy fixed that, then laughter as she wondered aloud if Lisa and Taylor would like the others adjustments.—

-Worried Taylor wanted to know what she had done, but Amy was done with them and turned her attention back to Victoria whom she went to fuck. Lisa told Taylor that it was time to leave before Amy lost her good cheer and turned them into monstrosities, adding that she 'figured out' what Amy had done, and that it could be dealt with later.—

Power Plays

(Автор: JustForLurking)

1.1

I hate PE. That was my only thought as I splashed face down on a puddle of mud. I heard that annoyingly fake, girly giggle move close. When I flipped around, the only thing I could see was an indistinct silhouette looming over me. "Gee Taylor, gotta be more careful with those ungainly legs of yours." It was Madison, surprisingly. Surprising not because of of the taunting, that she always did. It was because I was sure she was the one to trip me. Madison was never one to be physical, that was more of Sophia's shtick. Madison usually limited herself to petty mocking and childish pranks, as opposed to Emma's more pointed and personal insults and Sophia's physical abuse. Even more, she was the only one of the trio that shared PE with me. Without the other two for her to feed off, Madison usually just ignored me.

I wiped the mud of my face and found my glasses. They didn't fall in the mud itself, but nearer to the edge, which meant that they had a thin covering of humid dirt sticking to the lenses. I didn't have anything to clean them with, and my hands were caked with mud, so no cleaning them out. I could better make out Madison's gloating face with them, but it was half blurred and tinted brown.

Madison stepped back as the substitute coach -Mss. Stacks— approached. She was a pretty woman, if I was honest. The only way I could describe her would be "Motherly Amazonian". She had wide hips and narrow shoulders, giving her a somewhat pear shaped silhouette. She wore one of those tight sports shirts and bike shorts, which showed off perfectly her very softly defined abs and her very shapely legs. The shirt also did little to hide what I suspected to be boobs bordering on the C-cup. She had the kind of body that wouldn't be out of place on a sports magazine centerfold. However, what I found to be her most striking feature were her eyes. They were a light grey, the kind that was cold and penetrating yet mesmerizing to look at. Most guys -and some girls— ended up smitten on first sight. Those who weren't fell in love with her cheery attitude that heavily contrasted with her tough love approach to teaching. In short, she was everyone's favorite teacher. And it was only her second week at Winslow.

She leaned over me and offered me a hand as she asked me if I was alright. I took her hand and answered that I was. She wasn't particularly tall, about eye level with me when I slouched. This close to her I could see the concern in her face, even through the brown film. She asked what happened, and Madison was the first to say that I tripped. She looked at Madison with a small frown and then back at me. I nodded, going along with the lie. I knew the song and dance, saying the truth wouldn't get me anywhere. Miss. Stacker's frown deepened a little bit though, and she looked at Madison. Madison just smiled up at her, playing up her "cutesy girl" image for effect.

At that moment is when the coach's watch signaled the nearing end of of the period. Everybody cheered as Miss Stacker sent the class back to the locker room. I could only sigh in relief. Today had been particularly stressful, given how quiet the other two thirds of the trio had been. Madison's shove was the worst thing that happened today. And that made me nervous; the last time they went silent was when... that happened. But I was on the final stretch, I just had to get changed and skeadle, finally free to deal with more important matters. Namely Bakuda.

But before I could rush off, Miss Stacks called me back to help her pick up the scattered equipment. I can not put how annoyed I was at her that moment. Normally, I like to be the first to enter the locker room and the first to leave. It minimised chances that some of my clothes would "go missing". That, and the fact that she picked the mud covered girl who probably is the one that needs a shower the most. Seriously, the mud was drying up and starting to itch.

But all my annoyance suddenly went up in flames when the first thing -after making sure all others were out of earshot— was ask "How long have put up with that bitch and why haven't you told a teacher?"

It took me a second to understand what she asked, and when I did, I felt my heart stop. For one long moment, I stared at her. She stared back, waiting patiently, her grey eyes never wavering from mine. Then a fly broke our eye contact, and I realized that my bugs were getting agitated. That I was getting agitated. Closing my eyes, I focused on my bugs. Focused on getting them to settle down. It distracted me, and it allowed me to center myself. From the outside, it looked like took a couple of deep breaths and then was absolutely calm.

I opened my eyes and found Miss Stacker still waiting patiently, arms crossed below her breasts. At that point there was only one question in my mind. "How?"

She smirked and huffed, moving her hands to rest on her hip. "I know the signs Taylor. Went through the same thing you did when I was your age. A pretty girl like you doesn't slouch like that unless she has a reason to do so."

I had to blink at that. `Pretty girl'? Me? I was the farthest thing from pretty I could think. Stick thin and tall as a maypole. Gawky eyes and wide mouth. `Pretty' and `Taylor Hebert' are mutually exclusive concepts.

Miss Staker, for her part, chuckled. "Yes, pretty. Listen, as much as I like making cute girls blush, I would still like for you to answer my question."

Wait, blushing? Oh crap, I am blushing. I can feel the heat in my cheeks. That's a little embara— wait. Waaiit a minute. I she... Is she hitting on me? Is the coach hitting on me? Is the very pretty, well developed -Nope. Not going there. No way, no how! Think of something else! Uh... Oh! the question! Right! Uh... crap thats not any easier.

Her smirk was getting bigger though, stretching her big, fat lips and nooo, not going there! "I tried!" I practically squeaked. She looked surprised though. Not that I blame her, I am surprised. "I tried," I repeated. Thinking about the answer itself was enough for me to sober up. "I tried. Multiple times in fact. To the principal even. But it was always my word against theirs. Nobody ever believed me, and all my attempts were swept under the rug. I gave up after... after..." the Locker, I didn't say. It was just too much. I took one more deep breath, focused on my bugs for the second I needed to make sure they didn't rampage.

Miss Staker's gorgeous eyes were open wide, jaw hanging slightly. "Really? The principal?" Her frown returned, but it had a pensive slant now. She broke eye contact for the first time, looking to the side, to the track field. She stayed there for what seemed an eternity to me, working her jaw. Then she let turned to me again. I had to blink at the amount of concern she was showing. "It was you wasn't it? Back in January?"

I recoiled when she said that, taking a step back. That was all the proof she needed. Next thing I know, Miss Stacks wrapped me in a near bone crushing hug. It froze me in shock. The only other person to hug me like this was my dad, and that was after I first woke up in the hospital back in January.

I heard her chuckle below me. Her face was pressed against my collarbone; she wasn't tall enough to above my shoulder. "Seriously Taylor, relax. I can feel your heart jack hammering in there."

Ah, she wasn't lying. I could hear the blood rushing through my ears. I focused on my bugs again while trying to breathe as deeply as I could. "Atta girl!" she said, stepping back from the hug and leaving her hands to rest on my shoulder. "Listen Taylor, I don't know the entire thing, only what filtered through the grapevine. But I won't ask what happened. It's obviously painful to you. I just want you to know that I am here for you. I don't know why the faculty is ignoring you, but I'll do my best to find out. You are not alone, Ok? I am here for you."

That... That was actually the first time a teacher ever said anything like that. First time any adult other than my dad, for that matter. She looked so sincere too. I could feel the prickling in my eyes that heralded tears. I closed my eyes and did my best to held them in. Once I was sure I wouldn't leak, opened my eyes again.

She still had her hands on my shoulders, smiling. She double tapped my shoulders before she let go and stepped back. I needed to say something, anything not to break down. Then I noticed something. "Your clothes, I got mud on them," I said sheepishly.

She just blinked owlishly before looking down at her self. Then burst out laughing. I felt my face heat up again. I tried to hide it by dropping my head and letting my hair drape over my face, but she just laughed harder. The heat increased and I pouted. It wasn't funny, she shouldn't be laughing.

"Sorry," she wheezed between laughs. "Sorry," she repeated when she calmed down, "That's the last I was expecting after a loaded convo. Tell you what, by now the other girls should have already left. I have some spares on my office, so you go ahead and take a shower in peace, and I'll get changed. If your bus already left I can drive you home, if you'd like."

"I..." I was flabbergasted. She was offering me a ride home. That... She was going well above what I'd expect a normal teacher to do. "I... I'd like that, thank you..." I trailed off, holding back tears again. She just smiled and grabbed me in a half hug. She couldn't quite reach around my shoulders, so she wrapped her my torso, close to my hip. Then she started guiding us back towards the locker rooms.

"Don't worry, we'll work this out. You'll see." And I believed her. Maybe I can enjoy PE a little more from now on.


* * *

1.2

"You know, you can't just let them push you around like they are doing now," said Lucy -Miss Staks first name— as we walked through the entrance to the hallway leading up to the locker rooms. We were discussing the extensive terror campaign that I was a subject to for almost a year and a half. It was a summarized account, of course. There were some details in there I certainly didn't want to discuss with a woman I just met. Much less that particular event. So I just gave the roughest idea of what happened. I was talking her about the last few weeks when she spoke up. "They already hospitalized you once. I can bet you fifty bucks and a pair of panties that they will go to extremes unless you do something to curve their aggression. Draw a line on the sand, so to speak."

I puzzle over that sentence. Particularly the `pair of panties' bit. What the fuck. Better move on. "I would like to to fight back, but I also like to think that I am a better person than them. I won't drop to their level."

She shook her head with a tsk. "Turnabout is fair play Taylor. And not even saying that you should fight every little thing. Just the heavy stuff. Things that you will not tolerate. If you don't, they just will keep escalating, because they know they can get away with it. But if you resist their meanest taunts, their hardest shoves, if you escalate when they cross that line in the sand, then they will stop, because they will know that crossing isn't worth it."

I felt my frown forming. She was advocating the exact thing I did not want to do. "I will not fight them back," I stated with as much conviction as I could. "Not like that. And certainly not by escalating. I don't know if you noticed, but they are three of the most popular girls in school. Trying to fight them back will simply get me punished instead of them. They can escalate faster and harder than I can."

She chuckled. She was chuckling at me being serious. "Sorry," she said between chuckles, "It's just that you are selling yourself so short that it's funny." My frowned deepened. "Look Taylor, you are a smart girl. Far smarter that the three little hags combined. You are thinking on fighting the same way they do, where they have the home advantage. No, you need to fight on your own terms, your own game. Something that they will not be able to got to the teachers to. Something that it's so alien to them they will not be able to react to."

I felt my frown lessen. Half of it at least. "I'm listening."

"Of course you are." She looked pensive for a moment before she continued, "You want to know why I got picked on?" I felt my eyebrows jump up in interest. "I was short. Like oompa-loompa short." It was my turn to snort. I could see it, actually. If I stood completely straight, her eye level would be parallel to my collarbone. She rolled her eyes, but the amused smirk remained. "Yes, laugh it up. But anyway, everybody thought it was funny to call me baby names and the like. It was humiliating, really. Nobody ever took me seriously. They even did that thing where they would take by backpack and play catch with it while I jumped uselessly for it."

There was a pause then, and her eyes got a far away look for a second. " Want to know how I got them to stop?" I nodded, and her eyes focused on me, grin twice as wide. "I beat the shit out of them. Ha! That's the same expression they had. Dumb surprise. Thing is, I grew thick before I grew tall -opposite of you really— so that meant that I was really strong for my stature. Everybody thought I was just chunky, but nope! All muscle. So this one day they decided to play the catch game with my kitten. That was the straw that broke the camel's back and I went berzerk. By the time I was done, everybody was on the floor and I wasn't even breathing hard. And when the teachers arrived, nobody believed that the little four foot tall girl could beat up the star football player, so they all got detention for fighting and I got a free lunch as apology from the school!" She laughed freely at that. It was a pretty laugh, I had to admit.

But then I processed the story and my frown came back. "So you are telling me to beat them up?" I asked.

"Oh god no! That's their game. It worked for me because it was so utterly unexpected and improbable. So you have to come up with something equally unexpected and improbable, and they will leave you alone!"

I mulled her words for a moment. Unexpected and improbable. That... Sounded appealing actually. Coming at them from so far on the left field that nobody would believe I did it. But... what would I actually do?

I jumped a little when Lucy said "I think this is your stop Taylor." And indeed, that was the locker room door, about three steps back. I didn't think I was that deep in thought. Lucy looked amused though. She looked amused by everything I did, now that I thought about it. "Alright Taylor," she said as she unlocked the locker room door for me, "I'll be heading home now. You sure you don't want that ride? I don't mind waiting for you. I have some paperwork I could be doing."

I nodded. "You've done more than enough, Lucy. I don't want to hold you up any more. I'm fine really."

"Well, if you are sure. If you need anything else, feel free to look me up. My door is always open"

I nodded again and hesitated for a second before saying "Thank you, Lucy. For... For taking me seriously."

"Eh, no thanks needed. It is my job. But enough didly-dadling! Go get cleaned off!" she called as she walked back to the furthest door in the hall. I looked at her as she did. Her ass had an oddly hypnotic sway to it. Which is probably why I should stop looking at it. Because I am not a lesbian. Nope. With that, I decided to turn the door's knob and walk in.


* * *

It was an empty locker room to which I entered. Everybody else had already already left for home. Not even bugs stayed around, just a few scavengers under the lockers and a couple on the far wall trashcan. It might have something to do with the heavy smell of various perfumes that hung in the air. I couldn't blame them really, the smell made me almost choke. I was pretty sure that this level of saturation would actually kill the smaller flyers. It didn't help that there weren't any windows to ventilate the place.

On Mondays, PE is the last class of the day, so most of the school was already deserted. That's the only reason I didn't hesitate to walk in. I headed towards the middle row of lockers, where my own small locker where my backpack was stored under lock and key. The locker itself wasn't anything special; it was big enough for my overstuffed bag and not much else. Certainly not a teenage girl, especially not one my size, so I didn't feel particularly queasy about using it. It had a small padlock securing it. I pulled the key from where it was being held by a string under my shirt and pushed into the keyhole on the padlock. Opening the tiny locker, I found everything where I left it. With a small sigh of relief, I set the bag on the bench sitting between the rows of lockers, and pulled out my towel out along with a plastic bag.

Double checking that I was alone out of pure habit, I slowly began to strip. The first thing to go was my mud caked t-shirt. Grabbing the hem, I slowly fought to get the stiff cloth over and above my head. Looking down, I saw that my bra -the one I wear to make sure my nipples didn't poke a hole in my clothes— was also dirty, somehow. The clasp was undone and then the bra joins the shirt in the plastic bag. Next I hooked my thumbs under the elastic of my sweatpants and pull them off, letting them drop them around my ankles. My panties follow suit. A shiver goes through my naked frame as the cold air brushes it. Right, shower.

Winslow being Winslow, the showers are a simple, dirty affair. Just a single rectangular room with three shower heads and no stalls and not even a door leading to it, only an unbarred entryway that offered no privacy at all. Off white tiles stained brown by the accumulated dirt covered the walls and floor. Of the three showers, only the one closest to the `door' actually worked. Working the knobs from the side, I got the water as close to 'right' as the old plumbing would allow. Once the temperature was about where I wanted it, I stepped under the stream, careful of keeping as much of my hair away from the water.

Tension slowly left my body as I stepped into the warm water. I could see all the mud that coated my body slowly drift down, before steam started to fill my vision. Absentmindedly I started to rub down, pushing the dirt along. I didn't have any soap, so I contented with simply digging my fingers in and scrape the mud off. Felt surprisingly nice.

With some time to myself, I was able to go back to what I was doing back in the track. Not jogging, but rather thinking about the Undersiders. More specifically, our most recent tangle with the ABB.

Bakuda tried to have Bitch kidnapped. Would've succeeded if she was a little more selective of her recruits. Turns out tranquilizer darts only work if you can actually hit your target with the first hit. After that, when the element of surprise is lost and your target knows what you tried to do? You lose. The two thugs that had been assigned to catch Bitch ended up getting mauled. After that, we managed to rally up, and strike back at Bakuda.

Thinking back, I realized something. We won over Bakuda almost flawlessly. Lisa figured out her plan, and with that, we figured that the best way to bring her down would be to ambush her first, while she was heading to the trainyard. First, Grue led in by covering the road in his darkness, forcing the Jeep to halt lest they drive through it. Then my swarm moved in, throwing everything into disarray. Well before Bakuda could bring her grenade launcher to bear, Bitch walked out of Grue's first cloud, and shot the bomber with the very same tranq gun she gave her thugs. It was unexpected, and considering our reputation, improbable. The very same principles Lucy spoke of. Maybe if it worked on Bakuda, could it work on the trio? Arguably, the are both groups are equally mad, so Lucy might be right.

With my arms now dirt free, I moved my hands to rub my neck to keep scrubbing. Heh, gotta say, Lucy might be my favorite teacher. As much as I like Mrs. Knott, she never actually held me back to talk about my problems, or offered me a ride home after a bad day. It also helped that Ms. Staks was also quite pretty. Her figure was something that I wouldn't mind having myself. The image of her round, meaty ass swaying as she walked away floated to my forefront of my mind. Why, I didn't know, and probably it isn't the best thing to think of when I'm rubbing off my boobs. And also because I am not a lesbian. Aaand my nipples are hard. Dammit, I am not going to have an identity crisis! I already have way too much shit to deal with! Quick, think of something else! Like... Like Brian. Yes, Brian, with his broad shoulders, his toned abs, that deliciously dark skin. Yeahhh...

I slow down on my rubbing, moving in slow circles on my chest, massaging my meager bust and occasionally going over my erect nipples. I giggle a little bit, picturing Brian's very powerful legs clad in nothing but very tight shorts. I can perfectly make out his bulge. Whether he was actually that big I did not care. My fantasy, my rules! I could see him moving his hands to mine, guiding them towards the elastics of his shorts. I a low moan escapes me as I slowly begin massaging lower and lower. Imaginary Brian smiles at me with his perfect teeth as he hooks my fingers under his shorts. He gives me a knowing wink that sets my core on fire. Kneeling in front of him, I bite my lip as I begin pulling down his shorts. The moment his dick springs free matches perfectly when my hand reaches my pussy. I moan a little louder then. I slowly rub the outside of my lips as I imagine Brian's entirely too big boner slowly grow.

Looking back up at Brian, I find him looking down at me, knowing smile in place. He puts his hand on my head, running it through my long hair. My purr of pleasure rattles my chest. Still at half half mast, I begin to caress it between my hands, running the tips of my fingers along the top, from head to base and back. His own moan of pleasure sends a shiver through my spine. Then I take hold with start pumping it with , feeling as it hardened with each stroke. Soon, it's full size its made known, the tip poking my cheek. I raise my eyes towards Brian again, still pumping his dick with one hand and snuggling up to his head. His eyes are full of lust, lust for me. I smile then, and slowly bring my mouth envelope his engorged glans as my free hand moves to relieve my needy clit. His growl of pleasure is so deep I felt rattling his cock through my lips. I began to bob my head slowly, taking his massive erection in inch by inch, never leaving his beautiful eyes. Soon, I felt his cock hit the back of my mouth. I was only about one third in. I could see that Brian wanted to keep pushing in, but he understood I wasn't ready, so he just kept running his hands through my hair. I smiled around his dick as I pulled back and forth, back and forth, enjoying every little shudder of his massive frame.

We just repeating that pattern for some time; He held my head, struggling not to ram me all the way to his engorged balls for my sake, and me doing my best to pleasure him into orgasm. We were both close, I could feel. I felt the familiar coiling deep inside my core, and Brian's control was beginning to slip, hips moving in small, jerky thrusts. Soon, I was nearing my peak, and so was Brian. I could tell, because suddenly his head rolled back with a deep, throaty growl. "Taylor," he called breathlessly, and I moaned into him. "Taylor," he called with more energy, his hold on my head strengthening. "Taylor," he began to chant between pants, my own moans coming higher and stronger for every time he said it. We were both at our limit, I knew. And suddenly, Brian screamed my name, pushing me as far down his cock I could go. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as my choked slightly, and then—

-I screamed as a splash of cold water brought me back to reality. I scrambled to cut off the freezing water, almost slipping down on the wet tiles. Once done, I stood still, shivering and in shock. The heat, both figurative and physical, was gone. I slapped my hand back to my crotch and began rubbing. Nothing. I hummed in disappointment and annoyance. I still felt horny, but the cold numbed every nerve. I grunted in annoyance as I took my towel of the hook and began drying up. I just knew that until I got that orgasm out of my system, I would be one grumpy bitch. Not unlike Bitch, actually. Figured that one out after my dad, walked in on me once. Not that he knew, of course. But he did puzzle over my snappiness that day. I counted it as vengance.

Once I was dry, I wrapped the towel around me. My annoyance only grew when I had to hold the towel in place. I've seen other girls simply tuck a corner in, but that simply did not work for me. Not busty enough, I thought. Even worse, I was still cold, so I could easily make out my nipples through the fabric. Not that there was anybody to see them, but it still annoyed me.

There was still some steam in the shower room, so when I stepped out into the lockers, I began to shiver anew. Holding it down with a grunt, I half walked, half stomped to where I had left my backpack and spare clothes. Nothing special, really. Just my typical loose shirt and jeans, and another set of underwear.

Only that when I reached the bench where I left them, they were missing. All my stuff was missing. Only my glasses -which I didn't take into the shower— were there. Putting them on, the first thing I noticed is that they were clean. Somebody cleaned them. Somebody else was here with me. I could feel the bugs in my range starting to converge, but they were ways out, with little in the way of ingress. I had only the few roaches hanging out in the trash and the harmless spiders under the lockers. Lucy is long gone too. It was just me and whoever stole my clothes. I began, to hyperventilate, only to stop suddenly when I heard her.

"Hi there, Taylor."

Oh god. Please no. Not her. I put on my glasses and turned around as quickly as I could. Oh god, it is her. Standing in front of me, in perfect clarity, was Madison. The first thing I noticed was that she was grinning at me, wide and predatory. The second thing I noticed was that she was holding a camcorder with a little red light blinking in front.

Oh no... Had she... How long was she standing there? Did she record me mas... mas...

"That was quite naughty of you, Taylor," singsonged Madison. Oh god, oh god, she did! I felt my entire face flush, which made her giggle. "I can say that I honestly wasn't expecting it, but I can't say I am surprised. Emma had quite a few interesting stories about you, and this fit's right in." Stories? What stories? There no such stories! I am hyperventilating again. Oh god, she's giggling again.

"See," she said, "we were discussing you, one of these days. Sophia held that nobody would ever be with you, and that you'd die a virgin. However, Emma said that you were such a slut that you could still get laid, even if only with the greatest of losers. Sophia disagreed, claiming that not even the Merchants would take you, but then Emma insisted. And then I had the greatest idea!" Every hair in my body stood up when she said `idea'. "I stood and and pulled this!" she said, denoting the camcorder in her hand. "And then I told the girls that we should do an experiment! I could get some footage of you, and then we could show it to the guys around school, see who got interested! Hell, maybe even sell it online! It would be an easy way to make a few bucks."

Oh my god... They... I... I have no words. They were going to sell me out. Profiting of my body. I felt every inch of my skin crawl then.

"So I came in hoping to get a couple shots of you changing, some tits -not that you have any— and ass, maybe even a crotch shot. But then I found you masturbating in the shower and moaning like a cheap whore." She started giggling again, moving a hand to cover her mouth. "Yeah, that was way better than I expected. That's definitely enough to use on our experiment."

I felt tears of shame bubbling up. I tried my best to hold them down, but some of them still leaked. There wasn't a single moment where I wished I was dead more than now. I thought of dad, of how would he react. Sadness? Disappointment? Anger? I didn't know.

"Ahhh, don't be sad Taylor! We aren't done yet!"

My eyes snapped open and focused back on Madison. Her eyes shone with cruel mischief. "While what I have here is good, I think we can do better!" What!? What was she talking about? Better? She had me masturbating on video! What more could she possibly want!? "So what do you think Taylor? What to help me get some more footage?" She starting stepping towards me, her grin growing deranged.

I spike of fear rose through me just as my heart froze in my chest.


* * *

1.3

"Come on Taylor! I know you want to! I can feel your frustration! Just keep rubbing like you were doing back there! I know you are dying for release!" Madison enthused, pointing at my crotch.

I shook my head in denial, doing my best to keep myself covered. I could do little for the shamed blush that ran all the way down to my collarbone, but I could make sure that she didn't get any more peeks at anything else. Especially not with the way Madison was looking at me. The way her eyes roved over my body with a strange glint I thought was malice. She was blushing too, I noticed. I didn't know why.

"Come on Taylor!" Madison repeated, a little urgency bleeding in. "Just one liiiittle orgasm and done!" I shook my head again, not trusting myself to speak. Her grin drooped for a second before coming back. "Tell you what, if you do what I tell you, I'll tell you where I hid your clothes."

I felt my eyes widen in shock. I had forgotten about them. How would I get home without them?

Madison's grin widened. "I see you figured out the little dilemma. You can't exactly take a bus buck naked. I am pretty sure that a slut of your caliber would enjoy it, but think of that dear daddy of yours. Wouldn't it be a shock!"

A sob escaped me. That had been a low blow. Even worse was that it worked. I could picture dad's grief as he was told that her daughter was arrested, or worse, raped and killed while streaking through town. I closed my eyes shut, trying futilely to hold back the tears. Sobbing and shaking uncontrollably and, I forced my arms to my sides, putting myself on display.

I heard Madison giggle again, more quietly, but I could still feel her attention on my body. My nipples were still hard, contracting almost painfully in the cool air. I could feel a slight breeze against my nethers.

I flinched when I felt something warm touch me. Four points -Madison's fingers, I guessed— applying slight pressure just above my collar bone. "I'm... impressed Taylor," I heard Madison say, her breathing a little harder. I felt her fingers trace the outline of my collarbone, before moving down my sternum and along the bottom of my ribs. A crawling feeling, remained wherever her fingers touched. "Your skin, is... is..." she trailed off as she moved her fingers to trace the bottom of my right breast, before using her whole hand massage and grope at it. "It's so smooth," she finished with a giggle. I shuddered in disgust both at the invasive touch, and at myself, because I actually felt good when Madison said it. More tears fell out of my cheeks.

Heedless of my shame, Madison stopped groping my breast, opting to use her spread hand to caress my stomach all the way down to my pelvis and back again, before using her thumb to run over my mons. I heard her hum appreciatively before saying "and not a single hair anywhere."

I gasped in surprise when she suddenly cupped my pussy, rubbing the outside of the lips. "My my," said Madison, "You might still have some hopes left Taylor, this slim and delicate pussy of yours is a guaranteed hit with guys."

Then then spread my pussy apart and started rubbing circles around my clit, and I felt completely disgusted with myself. Another sob racked my body, because I couldn't hold back it and the moan forming deep within me at the same time. It felt good, I was feeling good.

I was getting turned on. And it made me feel incredibly dirty. It made me feel like maybe they were right, and I was just a slut

I finally broke down when Madison took my clit and began rolling it against her thumb. The moan I was holding escaped my throat. Madison stopped for a second, and then gave another small giggle as she started rubbing my clit again. "Wow, Taylor," she said, "getting turned on by getting your pussy molested by another girl? How incredibly slutty." My heart withered, when she said that, and I hung my head, letting the tears run down my cheeks. "I am sure your mother must be proud that her daughter is following in her steps!"

My head raised to look at Madisson in disbelief. Did she just... Did she just say that my mom was... Was...

"Oh yeah, I know," was Madison's answer. She was grinning as she said "Emma told me of all the little things your mother did to your dad, and what she did behind his back."

It was almost a tangible thing. I could hear it, deep in the back of my mind. Something that strained for far too long under far too much weight, cracked. At that very moment all my suffering, all my shame, all my anger, pooled together in one big ball of hate, and I saw red.

The first slap was sudden and immediate. She yelped as she stepped back, surprise clearly written on her face. "You do not," I grounded out, followed by another slap, causing Madison to take another step back. I continued, "To call. *slap* My mother. *slap* A whore!" I yelled at the end, punctuating every word with another slap. By the end, our positions reversed, with Madison's back against the opposite row of lockers and with me using my full height to single handedly pin her wrists against the lockers. My other hand was under Madison's jaw, using my fingers to keep her head from turning. Madison for her part, looked completely stunned, eyes wide and and shining with unshed tears. The camera lay discarded behind us; She dropped it on the second slap.

"I can stand the insults," I told her, angry tears replacing the shame ones. "I can stand the tripping, I can stand my homework being stolen, hell, I can stand getting bathed in soda. But what I cannot stand is having my mother's memory desecrated like that. Am I clear?"

Apparently I wasn't, because the next thing out of her mouth was a desperate "You can't tell me what to do, you... You s-slut! I'll call your mom whatever the fuck-" Another slap fell, and she yelped. She tried to struggle, but I was taller and fitter, so it was in vain. When she realized that she wasn't going anywhere, she whimpered, but didn't try anything else.

"I don't think you understand your situation here Madison," I told her, anger edging my words. "I am done with your shit. I won't stand for it, not anymore. Now I want you to listen, and listen well."

"I loved my mother like nobody else in the world. She was warm, caring, and loyal. She was an English teacher at the university here. And before that, she was a social activist. She was a great woman, greater than you could ever hope to be. But above that, she was the greatest mom I could ask for. I was always her number one priority. Whenever I was sick, she would skip weeks at work to care for me. She almost lost her job, sometimes. All for me. She would move heaven and earth for my sake, and between her and my dad, I convinced they could actually do it."

Madison was looking at me with weariness, but I could also see curiosity in her too. "Losing my mother was the single, most painful experience in my life. Suddenly not having her warm support, it was like the floor was taken from under us, me and my dad. He retreated into himself, leaving me to deal with my own grief by myself. We haven't had a very close relationship since then. So do you know who do I turned for support? Emma. Yes, the same Emma you are thinking of. She was my best friend back then. It was with her help that I was able to pull through. But then she became the bitch that she is today, and it was like my last rock fell apart, and I plunged into the freezing ocean. My mom's memory is one of the few things that keeps me afloat. The flute you destroyed was part of that. I will not tolerate you taking any more of it away."

"Now," I said, far more calm than when I started. I lowered my head to be leveled with hers. "Do you know why I am telling you this?" She shook her head. "Because I want you to one very important thing. All that shit you three put me through? I had to deal with it by myself. And honestly? I think I am doing a very poor job. I hate your guts, Madison. I want nothing more than rip them out and feed them to the roaches. What you were doing right now? It was rape. You raped me. And right now? I am so very tempted to return the favor." And it was true. I was still horny, both from my aborted orgasm, and Madison's following groping. And for some reason, having Madison immobilized under me at my mercy, my handprint clearly adorning her face, was just stoking the fire. Lucy did say turnabout was fair play, afterall.

"So, why haven't you?" she asked. "Rape me, I mean?"

"Because I am better than you," was my answer, and she blinked incomprehensibly. "Yes, you heard me, I am better human being than you."

"Who are you to say that? What could you possibly do that I can't?" she asked. Oddly, I can see her face getting redder, and I can feel her fidgeting under me, but her question doesn't have any real heat. Is she pretending to resist? What is she getting at?

"It's not what I can do, it's what I don't do," I answered easily. "I don't go out of my way to ruin somebody's day. I don't insult people just because I feel like it. I don't prowl around and torture people for my own gratification like some sort of animal on the hunt. That's why I am a better person than you. Because I actually behave like a human being. You? You are just an animal. All of you really. Like wild animals attacking senselessly."

"Then, what are you going to do to me? Punish me like you would a wild animal?" she asked me breathlessly, which is weird, because I'm not choking her or anything. Her squirming is getting stronger too, like the redness of her face. Is she angry or not? Bah, doesn't matter.

I take a few moments to think my answer, relishing the feeling of Madison's squirming, before answering "No."

She blinked owlishly for a moment, before asking "why?" She almost sounded... Disappointed? I do my best to keep my confusion to myself. Wouldn't do to let Madison know she's getting to me.

"Like I said, I am a better person than you. You treat other people like animals, not me." I shake my head. I already spent too much time for this. My anger is almost gone now. In it's place there is simply a void, emotional exhaustion. Right now, I just want to get dressed and go home. I hope I haven't caught a cold; it's still chilly in here. "I think I got my point across," I said with a sigh. "Why don't you tell me where you hid my clothes so both of us can go home?"

She seemed surprised for a moment, almost disappointed again. Then she seemed to struggle with some sort internal struggle before her expression became resolute, and shook her head.

I think I might have let jaw hang a little bit, but I couldn't quite tell with how fucking flabbergasted I was. Even after the whole spiel I gave, even when it was proven that she could not fucking move, she is still being a stubborn bitch.

"Madison," I called sternly, "where are my clothes?"

She shook her head again, a little harder this time, and I could feel my anger building up again. "Madison," I repeated with more force, "My. Clothes. Where are they?"

Another head shake, and I snap. I slap her. "My clothes." She seemed stunned, but still refused to answer. I slap her and ask again, but she still refused! I tried again and again, but she didn't budge. At some point, don't know when, I gave up on asking, and simply slapped her repeatedly. Her tears were flowing freely now, and her cheeks were probably bruised to hell, but she still didn't say anything. Only yelps left her mouth, and nothing else. It only made my rage grow and grow.

"Do you want me to rape you!? It's that what you want!?" I yelled at her. She flinched, but didn't do anything else. "Ok, fine! You want me to rape you, I'll rape you!" I reached for for the hem of her short skirt, and pulled it up. Looking down, I could see she was wearing plain white panties, with a little blue bow on the elastic. While that was just like Madison, what really caught my attention was the wet spot where the cloth stuck closely to her skin, making it almost see through. That, and the small rivers flowing down Madison's legs from the spot on her crotch. I so surprised I was, that I didn't bother to stop the laugh that bubbled up. "I don't believe it! You are excited!? It's practically a flood down there! If I was a slut for reacting to you, what does this say about you!?" Yes, I am being a bitch. No, I don't care it makes me a hypocrite. I am pissed and missing an orgasm. I will get my revenge.

Madison is reacting much though. Her face is beet red, with what I now recognize to be arousal, but she still refuses to say anything. I frown at that. But then I grin, because I have an idea. Madison shudders a little. Hah, she knows what's coming.

I decide to steal a page of the trio's book. I place my hand just on top of her mons, like she did to me, and I delight in her squirming. I grin wider as I gather the front of Madison's panties in my hand. I see Madison's eyes widen in realization. Yep, that's right, that. Then I wrap my hand around the bunch and

heave.

Madison squeals when I lift her by her panties in a tremendous wedgie. She stands on her tip toes and tilts her hip towards me in an effort to lessen the weight being put on her pussy, but that only works to give me a better view of how her lips are being spread open by the strip of cloth that's holding almost all her body's weight. She squirms and struggles, but that only works her panties deeper into her wet snatch. She's crying again, tears forming tracks on her cheeks. On a whim, I take a lick. I enjoy her shudder just as much as the taste.

"Ready to tell me where my clothes are?" I ask her, grin solidly in place. She is still squeaking in tandem with her struggles, and her breathing is getting pretty labored, but she still manages shake her head. Quite vigorously at that. I didn't care. I expected it, even. Seeing her blush like that, struggling to breath through the pain and pleasure, it is intoxicating. And I definitively want more.

With that thought in mind, I heave again, and Madison squeals yet again, her eyes fluttering. Her panties practically disappear into her pussy, allowing me a good look at her naked lips and the small tuft of smooth brown hair above them. I also see, just as much as I feel, Madison's legs trembling, struggling to find to push her weight up with only her big toes. She was losing that battle, if the increasing weight in both my hands and the number of tears told me anything.

"Ready to talk?" I asked, taking on a sweet tone. I felt anything but. She didn't shake her head this time, just moaned and panted. "I'll take that as a no." I release my hold on Madison's wrists -which flop down to her sides uselessly— , and shift to give her panties a double handed grip. Her eyes open wide again, and she gives me a weak shake. I just answer with a nod and a grin. And then I heave with all my strength. Madison outright screams this time, her feet dangling freely below her. She twitches and shudders and trembles as her clit takes the full weight of her body, held up by a piece of cloth stretched beyond recognition.

The only warning we got was the tearing sound a second before Madison's panties snapped. I was left holding onto the ruined, wet item as Madison fell to the ground with a yelp. She didn't make any effort to stand up again and I drank up the sight before me: She just sat there, trembling and panting like a dog. She was leaning back on the locker, unable to hold her own weight. Her hair was completely tussled out place, and her headband sat crooked to the side. Her face had a wonderful red tint to it, and her eyes were focused on nothing in particular. Her a-little-too-loose blue tank top was was disheveled too, one strap having fallen of her shoulder, giving me a good peek at the matching bra to the panties in my hand. And the piece of resistance, her hiked up denim skirt that allowed me a perfect view of her reddened and swollen pussy. It was a master piece, if I do say myself.

As her breathing evened out, I switched my attention to the busted up panties. They were still wet with Madison's juices. I brought them up to my face and gave them a good whiff. They smelled wonderful too. It was a musky scent: Strong, but not overpowering. I found that with each sniff I took, the smell burned straight towards my lust, fueling it. I moved my free hand towards my own pussy, which was quite wet, and began rubbing.

I did that for a while, heedless of how much time went past. It was like I was getting high on Madison's smell, getting addicted to it. The thought just made me get hornier even faster. A low groan brought my attention back to Madison. She was a little more focused now, her expression still somewhat vapid, but she was observing me. I also noted, to my pleasure, that she was fingering herself. The thought that she found me getting off on her smell exiting also excited me. It was a weird feedback loop, but I didn't care.

"Does this turn you on, Madison?" I asked, not moving her panties from where they were. I got a weak nod in response, and the rhythm of her ministrations sped up. Her eyes darted very quickly between my face, and my crotch. Hmm. That gave me an idea. "Tell you what, Mady." She twitched a little to the nickname, but didn't react otherwise. "If you tell me where I can find my clothes, I'll give you a little reward," I finished with a purr, at the same time sat down on the bench and crossed my legs in such a way that left no doubt as to what the reward was.

There was no hesitation as she rasped out "Locker forty seven, the combination is seventy-four seventy-four."

"Good girl!" I praised her, and she smiled at the same time the tempo of her self-fucking increased again. I giggled at her as I stood up again, flashing her as I go. I walked towards the locker in question, and set the combination into the four discs holding the lock in place. It clicked open without protest. Looking inside, I found my backpack and my clothes, both dirty and clean. Thinking quickly, I grab one of the other plastic bags I had and stuff Madison's musky panties in them. Satisfied my memento would be safe, I took everything out of the locker and carried it back where Madison was waiting for me.

I set everything in the bench and turned back to Madison. The smile I give her is all the confirmation she needs. She got on her knees -legs still too weak to stand— and crawled on all fours towards me. I sat down on the bench again, and spread my legs for her. She kneeled in front of me, hands on my legs to keep her from falling. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly leaned in until I could feel her warm breath on my pussy, causing me to shudder in pleasure. And then, the first lick came, and I about exploded.

Now, the only things I learnt about sex I did through the trashy romance novels my mom sometimes likes to keep around. The little trick I did there to get Madison to tell me what I wanted was something I lifted directly of one of the high fantasy one that was one of my mom's favorites. And one of the things all the books had in common was the act of the cunnilingus. So I was familiar with the concept, but no amount of reading could prepare me for the real thing.

The moment Madison's tongue touched the bottom of my lips, the spike of pleasure made me yelp, and then moan as she slowly licked her way up the folds. The downstroke sent shivers through my spine. And when she hit the bottom, she simply started back up again. A couple repetitions had me trembling in my seat, struggling to hold myself upright. And then she started throwing kisses here and there, and I moaned and groaned with each one. But none of that compared when she finally decided to start playing with my button. The first kiss on it made buck against her, but when she started sucking on it, oh boy, I screamed her name to the heavens. She then proceeded to flick it around with her tongue, and I lost all form of coherence.

Madison settled on a pattern then. She would lick my folds and between them before spending some time kissing and sucking my clit. And I moaned, groaned, and panted as she did so. So it was a great surprise when the first finger plunged into my entrance, so great a surprise in fact, that I came almost immediately. My back arched, my toes curled and my hands found Madison's head and rammed her against my pussy, all while a let out a soundless scream of ecstasy. But even as I thrashed in Madison's face, she didn't let up, if anything, it encouraged her. She kept sucking on my clit even as she pumped her finger into my constricting, convulsing snatch. I can safely say that at that moment, Madison had given me the best orgasm in my life yet.

When I finally petered out, I was slumped on top of Madison. When I straightened out, the first thing I did was grab handful of her hair, and pulled on it, forcing her to get her face out of between my legs look at me in the eye. I regarded her for a moment, admiring the way her face was completely covered in fluids, some of it dripping down her chin and onto her neck and chest. It was fucking sexy. Without further insights, I dipped down, and kissed her.

It wasn't the first time I kissed a girl. Emma and I used to practice quite a bit when we were younger. However, since then I had fallen out of practice for obvious reasons. Madison didn't have that issue, so I let her set the pace as our tongues danced with one another. It let me enjoy the my own, and Madison's taste.

Without breaking the kiss, I nudged Madison to scooch back so I could kneel in front of her. Once I am down on the floor with her, I she wraps her arms around my back. I, in turn, wrapped one of mine around her waist. We caress each other that way, our tongues continuing on their merry dance. Then I sneak my free hand towards Madison's crotch, and without warning, I stick my index right through her entrance.

Her tongue froze just as a gasp ran through her frame and then she moaned into my mouth as I began to feel around her tight, wet, canal. I marvel a little, exploring Madison's insides, noting all the differences between hers and mine. For starters, where my own vagina is smooth on top and heavily corrugated at the bottom, Madison's had light corrugations all over. it made or an interesting experience. It also helped that Madison had regained her bearings and we began to kiss again in earnest, even when Madison moaned again and again.

I knew she was close to her own finish when she started shaking like a leaf. In the good spirit of payback, I decided to surprise her by shifting my hand so I could use my thumb to play with her own clit. Turned out to be the correct move, because not soon after, Madison broke the kiss and came, moaning and panting as she leaned on me for support.

I kissed her again, chastely this time, before helping her up and setting her down on the bench to ride out her afterglow. As I set her down, she took my hand -the one I fingered her with— and sucked the finger clean. I led out another little moan as she did so. When she finished, she let go with a pop. I smiled down at her, and she answered in kind.

I did have somewhere to be though, so I let her rest in peace while I began to dress myself. It doesn't take very long. The hardest part was getting my hair dried up and under control. It gotten even messier than Madison's. I got done however, and I was ready to go. I picked up my backpack slung it over my back, the weight of it forcing me to slouch under it.

On my way out, I take the time to run a hand through Madison's hair, and she practically purrs. "You did well little Mady," I say as I caress her cheek. She snuggles to it, just like a cat would. Looking closely, I see a hand shaped bruise forming. Heh, looks I won't be the only one with a keepsake. I lean down and kiss her one last time.

"Thank you, Mistress," she mumbles. Hmm. Mistress, I like the sound of that. I giggle at the thought.

"You are welcome. See ya later, little Mady," call as I leave the locker room, a spring in my step.

It isn't until I am walking through the school gates that I realize just what the fuck happened.

"I fucked Madison Clements," I whisper in disbelief. "I boned Madison Fucking Clements. Jesus Christ, did I really... Did I really raped her? Or was that consensual? Oh fuck, am I a lesbian? Shit!"

Fuck it. It's too much. I need to speak with Lisa. I pull out my Undersider phone as I speed walk towards the nearest bus stop.

"Taylor?" answered Lisa's voice just as I reached the stop. "What happened to you, you're late."

"Lisa, I need your help. Something happened at school. It's... I might have..."

I heard Lisa sigh on the other end. "I am not going to like any of what I am going to hear am I?"

"Not likely," was my answer.

"Ah fuck. Head over here, doing this over the phone is giving me a headache."

"See you there," I say and hung up, just as the bus rolled to a stop.


* * *

Interlude 1.x

Meanwhile, in an unused classroom...

"Is she there yet?" asked an exasperated Emma Barnes. "I don't want to sit in this dusty place anymore."

"No, she's not," growled an even more annoyed Sophia Hess. "You know the drill. She'll text us and start up the feed when she is there. And I don't like it any better, but this is the only place we won't be discovered. So deal with it."

Emma moaned in desperation. "What is taking her so long?"

"According to Madison, the coach held her back. Something about picking up equipment."

"Huh. Any chance she'll spill about us?"

"Nah. You know how much of a coward Hebert is. She'll probably just do what she's told and then scram like the weak willed doe she is."

"Hmm. I hope so." The redhead then let out an explosive sigh. She dusted one of the desks as best she could, and sat with a huff.

Sophia growled as she sat opposite to her. "Listen," she said testily. "This was your fucking idea. One that I quite honestly think is stupidly bad, so you either suck it up or I'm leaving."

Emma looked affronted. "Bad? How the hell is this bad? We have everything planned! I won't tempt Murphy by saying it's perfect, but it's pretty damn close."

"Urgh," grunted the athlete, her face in her hands. "You went ahead and tempted him anyway."

Emma tapped the desk with her knuckles. "There, fixed. Now answer the question."

Sophia didn't answer for a couple seconds. Then, she raised her head to look at Emma. "Honestly?" she said, in a passive tone that Emma rarely heard from her friend. "I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with this. This is really close to the kind of shit I used to pin dudes to a wall for."

Emma stared at her friend for a moment, before answering "Ok, ok. No, I get you. But really, you shouldn't feel guilty-"

"I'm not guilty!"

"-for this. We are not raping her," finished Emma without skipping a beat. "We aren't recording it and we aren't telling anybody. And you know we've done worse and she still took it without complain like the wimp she is. What's some more humiliation to her? We make her model a bit, make her think we have it on video, and then we rub it in her face for a couple of weeks, maybe blackmail her into a couple other things, and then we tell her there was no video. Then we get to watch her cry tears of shame. Not much different than what we've done before."

Sophia scowled at her friend as she said "Fine. You're right. But I still don't like it."

"You'll turn around," said Emma, smiling sunnily.

At that moment was when Sophia's phone beeped. She pulled it out of her pocket, and hmmed. "Hebert just walked in with the coach. She says that she can't hear what they are talking about." Another beep, and she frowned. "Coach just walked into her office. She's going to wait and see if she leaves."

Emma's frown mirrored Sophia's. "I hope she does. I rather not wait `till next Monday to try again."

"Same."

Silence hung for some time, both friends deep in thought. "Think she'll pull through? Madison I mean."

Sophia shook her head as she said "She has to if she wants to be part of the group. We all know she isn't really doing anything. Her grade-school level shit isn't phasing Hebert anymore. If she wants to be with us, then she's going to have to step up." Emma nodded in agreement.

They waited quietly, staring at Sophia's phone, willing it to beep again. And is if by magic, it did. Sophia looked towards her friend, her grin letting her know all she needed to know. "Show time!" crowed the redhead, grin matching her friend's.

Emma pulled her laptop out her bag, and put it on the teacher's desk, opening it to show a black screen with the words `No transmission' placed in the middle. It wasn't a particularly special laptop. It had a thirteen inch screen, which happened to have horrible viewing angles. Something Emma and Sophia realized would cause problems as they looked at the rather narrow desk chair in front of the desk. They looked at each other in the eyes, and with an unspoken agreement, they stood ready. Stony faced, each set their closed fist in front of them, and shook it two times, and on the third, they sprung.

Emma's cry of victory echoed in the dusty old classroom as her hand enveloped Sophia's fist, and waved her hips side to side in celebration. Sophia, on the other hand, looked like she bit into a lemon. "How do you do that!? That's like the third time in a row!"

"Not telling~" singsonged Emma. "Now sit."

Sophia complied, huffing as she did so. She then grunted when Emma planted her shapely ass on her lap. Sophia scowled at her friend, and she just grinned back at her. Any further comments were cut off when the screen lit up with the image of the locker room's door.

"The things I do for you guys," came Madison's whisper through the speakers, causing the duo to chuckle in unison.

The image showed the door cracking open, and then shifted to show the corridor. It stayed there until the sounds of a shower going started. Then the view shifted back to the now open door as Madison quietly rushed inside. The view shook as Madison huddled against the end of the middle row of lockers, then tilting the camera sideways around the corner.

"What is she doing?" asked Emma.

"She's using the camera's viewfinder to scout around the corner without exposing herself," answered Sophia. "Clever."

They continued to watch as the screen showed the entry to the shower, Taylor's lanky silhouette obvious in the steam. Her back was halfway turned towards them. The view turned upright as Madison moved up, confident she wouldn't be spotted. She grabbed Taylor's stuff, and then quickly backed out, turning the corner again and moving towards her own locker. She cracked it open, and jammed the bags there. Once it was secured, Madison moved along on the hallway created by the locker rows, where she wouldn't be spotted from the showers. She edged along the far wall until she was at the edge of the entryway.

The camera shifted, showing Madison's hesitation, before she finally sucked it up and kneeled around the corner. She fiddled with the focus a bit until Taylor could be clearly made out among the steam, scrubbing mud off her arms.

Both hummed thoughtfully. As much as all of them ragged on Taylor for her figure, they had to admit -privately— that it's advantages. Taylor's back was one of such, as it was smooth and narrow, tapering very slightly towards her hips. And now that she wasn't slouching to allow the warm water to hit her chest, it was obvious that it also had a beautiful curve to it. Emma hated to think so, but she was always jealous of Taylor's back. It was the kind that fashion models had. Madison had zoomed in on it now, showing that it was also blemish free.

The camera panned down, stopping to focus on Taylor's ass, and Sophia had to blink when she realized what she was seeing. "Say," she whispered. "Does it look to you that Hebert's ass is gotten a little bigger?

Emma blinked and leaned towards the screen. "It has," she said with surprise. "Got a lot more tone into it too."

Sophia leaned in, putting her chest against Emma's back and her cheek against hers. "She's exercising," she realized, as the camera panned down again, scanning Taylor's equally toned and shapely legs. "Jogging, if I had to take a guess." Emma hummed in agreement. The camera finally settled on her feet. It was a good pair of feet, despite all that was said and done. One didn't get to be as tall as Taylor with small feet. Sophia's own were roughly the same size.

Then Taylor hummed, and the camera snapped back up. The reason was immediately obvious. Taylor, arms now clean, was massaging her chest and stomach. A little giggle escaped her as she did so.

The duo gaped as they leaned even further. "Is she..." Sophia whispered. And then Taylor's her trailed down. With her back towards the camera, they couldn't see it, but there was no doubt in their minds as to what Taylor was doing.

"Oh my god, she is!" Emma half whispered, half giggled. "She's masturbating, and she has no idea that we are watching her!" They marveled as Taylor kept fingering herself, her moans becoming more frequent and louder.

"You know..." said Sophia. "This is kind of hot."

Emma blinked in surprise. She turned towards her friend and asked "Wait, you're gay?"

Sophia shrugged, eyes never leaving the screen. "Sometimes."

"Oh." She turned her head back to the screen. Her lips pursed, and she asked "Sometimes?"

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Yes, sometimes. I get like, moods where I get just fucking sick of guys and I want something different. It doesn't happen often, and when it does, it's gone in days. That's why I never told you. It simply doesn't matter."

"Oh." Then tentatively, she looked back at her friend. "Do... you find me attractive?"

"Oh for fucks... Yes! Sometimes okay! Never bothered you with it because I knew you're straight."

"...Oh." Emma finally focused back on the screen. She tried to not fidget, distinctly aware of where she was sitting. She didn't know if doing so would be considered teasing Sophia, but she felt awkward enough as it is. No need to make them both awkward. She didn't bother asking if she was in one of her moods. The way she was intently looking at the screen and the contents wherein answered that question. Probably should let Sophia enjoy the show. She tried to relax as much as she could in Sophia's lap, aware of the weight of her breasts pushing against her back.

The image on screen hadn't changed much. The only difference was that now Hebert was moaning a little more wantonly. Sophia was getting somewhat uncomfortable. She didn't lie when she said looking at the tall girl fuck herself in the shower without knowing she was being watched was hot. She never thought herself a voyeur. That was the kind of thing scumbags she hunted did. But she shouldn't be surprised, she thought to herself. She did call herself Shadow Stalker. It was an extension of her usual activities, she realized. Stalking criminals out doing their thing was an emotional high, and stalking someone doing the deed was a sexual high. It grossed her self out a little bit doing that thought process, but she couldn't fault her own logic. `Everybody is a pervert' Dennis had told her once, and she just simply found her own kink. With her excuse out of the way, she continued to enjoy the show.

Silence reigned once again, the only sounds in the room being the spatter of the shower and Taylor's moaning, all distorted by the tiny laptop speakers. They sat together, if rather awkwardly. Emma watched on in bemusement, aware that Sophia's breathing was getting noticeably deeper. And Sophia felt Emma's discomfort in the way she held herself stiffly. She dearly wanted to stick a hand in her panties, but she knew Emma wouldn't be amused. Both were trying the best not to react, or to fidget. They didn't want to make their friend uncomfortable after all. That's what good friends do, right?

Taylor's moans were coming high and thick now, so they both knew she was getting close. Sophia leaned in as close as she could to the screen, forcing Emma to do the same. Both looked on with rapt attention as Taylor's pitch went up and up, and when it looked like she was about to peak, she yelped, and scrambled to cut of the shower. When she did, she was left shivering. She brought her hand towards her muff again and rubbed herself desperately, but then stopped and hung her head with a groan.

Both girls started laughing then, tension broken. They laughed as they watched Taylor dejectedly start drying herself, trembling like a leaf in a windy day. "Oh god!" cried Emma between laughs. "I can't believe... I can't believe she lost it! That's so fucking funny! What happened!?"

"Heater... Heater ran out of hot... water..." Sophia wheezed between her own guffaws. "Fucking... Fucking hate it when... it happens to me."

They leaned back into each other as their laughter petered out, previous awkwardness gone. They watched with amusement as Madison scrambled back to hide from Taylor. The camera focused again once Taylor's back was towards them again. She was looking frantically around for her missing clothes. And then, Madison spoke "Hi there, Taylor."

They broke out laughing again when Taylor turned around so fast she could've given herself whiplash. The look of surprise and fear was priceless. The chuckles took a more malicious tone as Madison kept talking, following the rough script they've given her. She was doing a good job of improvising given the unexpected circumstances. They both enjoyed as the panic became and shame become more and more apparent as Madison went on, if for different reasons. Sophia had to admit that she really liked looking at Hebert's blush drop lower and lower. Emma, on the other hand, felt some satisfaction from watching Taylor cry.

However, their amusement poofed out of existence when Madison next spoke "Ahhh, don't be sad Taylor! We aren't done yet!"

"That..." Emma trailed off.

"Wasn't on the script," finished Sophia with a frown. "Having her masturbating on camera is more than enough. What's Madison playing at?" They watched in bemusement as Madison stepped closer to Hebert, forcing her to back up until she hit the lockers behind her. But all doubts where cleared when Madison asked the girl to start masturbating again, her breathing audibly harsher, even through the speakers.

"You know..." began Sophia, "I always had my suspicions about Madison. This might as well be the confirmation I was looking for."

"Confirmation for what?" asked Emma.

"That she was bi."

"What?! She's bi? How could you even tell?"

"I caught her staring a couple of times. She never looked away though. She just met my eyes every time. Thought she might be jealous or something."

"... Am I the only straight one here? Do I have to go hide in a corner to change or what?"

"Nah. Madison never made a move. She's probably in denial or the like. The worst she's done is stare, which I'm kinda guilty of myself."

"I... I don't even know how to respond to that."

"Then don't Miss Model. If you can stand some forty year old fuckwads ogling you, then you can stand your friends appreciating your figure."

Emma opened her mouth to answer, but it clicked shut when she realized she didn't have one. All the while they argued, they never stopped watching the screen. Not much happened though. Madison had tried in vain to get Taylor to drop the towel and start slicking again. Taylor shook her head time and time again, despite the tears that rolled her cheeks. They were both kind of impressed. That was the most resistance Taylor showed since... Since ever really. It broke down though, when Madison brought up the contingency plan they had in case she didn't comply. Taylor started crying openly, sobbing like a little girl as she finally let the towel drop, arms stiffly at her side. Both Emma and Sophia bogled at what they saw.

"Jesus Christ. She could stab someone with those," swore Sophia.

"They were not that pointy the last time I saw them," answered the redhead.

So fixated where they by Taylor's small, yet incredibly protruding nipples that they didn't notice that Madison had started caressing Taylor until she flinched. They looked on incredulously as Madison's hand trailed around the lanky girls slim collarbone and down her chest. They both gaped when she started groping her breast.

"I never thought I'd ever say this but I am kind of jealous of Madison right now," said Sophia as she played with Taylor's boob, and more importantly, that tantalizing nipple. Madison was right too. Taylor's skin looked deliciously smooth. She kinda wanted to nibble on it.

Emma, for her part, just hummed non-comitantly.

The duo watched on as the groping hand trailed down and explored Taylor's stomach and pelvis, marveling just like Madison at the lack of hair anywhere. They both blinked in surprise when Madison actually had the nerve to move her hand to Taylor's pussy, spreading it open and teasing the area around her clit. Then she actually touched the clit, and they outright jumped from the seat when Taylor moaned.

"Wow. Taylor might actually be a-" Emma began, only to be interrupted when Sophia clapped her hand over her mouth. Emma stared incredulously, but Sophia ignored her, deadly focused on the screen.

Madison had made a joke about Hebert's mom being a slut. At that moment, Sophia noticed the change in Taylor's demeanor. The fear and shame were gone, instead staring a little to the side of the camera -where Madison's face must be— unbelievingly. She'd seen that same face before, in interrogations. It was usually shown by men or women who were just accused of killing their wife or children. It usually precluded something else.

Sophia's suspicions were proven correct when Madison insulted her mother again. She saw the exact moment Taylor's restrain broke, and rage twisted her face into one of a demon.

The camera shifted to point at the floor as a sharp, meaty sound echoed from the speakers. Then Hebert started raging, and the the same noise came again, and the camera clattered to floor, image going noisy for a second before focusing again sideways. The image showed that the meaty sound was actually Hebert slapping Madison to punctuate her rant. Madison kept retreating in the face of the onslaught, until it was her back against the wall. Hebert, for the first time the athlete ever saw, was using her height to her advantage. She pinned the smaller girl's wrist to the lockers, and held her head from beneath to keep her from turning away. She couldn't see it from where the camera had fallen, but judging by the way Madison looked ready to piss her panties, Hebert was using those huge eyes of hers for effect.

It was the most fucking unbelievable thing they'd ever seen.

The two friends proceeded to incredulously watch the epic, ranting lecture given to Madison by the normally oh-so-meek Hebert girl. The petite girl tried to resist at first, but she was put down by Taylor almost immediately. Emma in particular felt a twinge deep inside her when Taylor spoke of how it was because of her that she was able to overcome her mother's death. There was something there she was missing, but she couldn't tell what. Why should she care anyway? She should be able to stand up for herself. She did, after all. Sophia, on the other hand, felt anger rise when Hebert started speaking about being a better person than they were. She called them wild animals, striking out senselessly. It irked her, because she remembered the the speech she gave Emma the day they met. She called had called themselves predators hunting prey. Animals. It irked her, because even if Hebert was entirely wrong -which she was-, she couldn't really dismiss it because she made the same analogy herself.

It also pissed her off that Madison was being so damn meek. She wasn't fighting, nor physically nor with words. She was just there, doing a token effort. It was like... Wait, did she just ask Hebert is she was going to punish her? What the fuck? Did she just ask why she is not being punished? Ugh, worse is that Hebert is doing the whole `higher ground' BS and letting Mads go... Is she resisting now? Right where it would be the most stupid thing?

Both girls' mouth were agape as they watched Madison repeatedly refuse to give Taylor her clothes back. Then the meaty sound was back as Taylor began slapping Madison again. She still refused, and she was slapped again. She refused five more times, each time came with another slap. Even from their not very good viewpoint, they could see Madison's cheeks were beginning to bruise.

"What the fuck is she doing!?" exclaimed Sophia as she watched in horror.

"I don't know!" was Emma's hysterical answer. "Taylor's always been so damn soft and she knows it! She just has to tell her where her clothes are and she's free! But instead she does the stupid thing and says `no'! It's almost like she was... asking... God damn it."

"What!? What's wrong!?"

"She was baiting Taylor into a rage. She wanted her to slap her. Sophia, I think Madison is a masochist."

"What? You sure?"

"Not one hundred percent, but that right there is pretty convincing stuff."

"Ugh. That... makes sense. Fucking hell."

It wasn't a secret that they both hated masochists. People who didn't fight back were despicable in their opinion, but someone who actually wanted to be hurt and controlled? Worse than scum. Which apparently Madison was. And she probably knew that too.

They watched on, judging Madison as she was slapped around. Taylor had long since given into her rage, slapping Madison repeatedly without a word. Then she started screaming about rape, but Madison still didn't cooperate. They both frowned then, but it was immediately inverted when Taylor pushed up Madison's skirt to show the absolute fucking flood running from her crotch.

"Ok, I am convinced. Madison is a fucking masochist," said Sophia.

"Told you-"

Taylor was laughing. It wasn't the laugh Emma remembered. That laugh was warm and bubbly. This one was cruel. She laughed like that many times, most towards Taylor, but hearing it coming from her was utterly wrong. A tingle traveled through both their spines when she started, only to go back up when she called Madison out on her wetness.

Then their faces morphed to show blank terror as Taylor stuck her hand in the leg openings of the white panties, bunching the front up in such a way that they only covered Madison's slit, leaving half her lips out in the air. Then she paused, likely to build up anticipation.

"Is she..." whispered Emma.

"I think she is..." Sophia whispered back.

Their fears were made true when Taylor pulled up, and Madison squealed as she stood on her tip toes. She struggled for real now, but it's even from where the camera was sitting, they could tell it was doing more harm than good, spreading her lips even further apart. They vaguely heard Hebert asking again, but they were distracted by the way that she licked at Madison's tears.

Sophia wouldn't admit it to anybody, but she found it incredibly hot.

Madison refused to speak again, and Taylor pulled even harder. They could see Madison's lips completely exposed now, and how her toes were struggling for traction. Taylor spoke again, but Madison still didn't answer. Both onlookers' eyes widened even more when Taylor let go of Madison's wrists for a double handed grip on the panties. Madison didn't try to fight back, going completely limp instead. She shaked her head weakly, but Taylor ignored it.

Both girls wince in sympathy when Madison screams as she is lifted of the ground by the panties. They wince again when they hear the panties rip and the sound of an ass falling to the floor. They could see Madison sitting listlessly on the ground.

Sophia looked apprehensive. "... That's got to hurt," she said.

"No doubt about it," answered Emma, equally uneasy. "Think we should go there and pull her out?"

"Maybe? I don't know. She's a masochist right? So she must have enjoyed it? And it's not like we're going to... What the fuck is Hebert doing?"

Emma looked at where Taylor was standing, with Madison's ruined panties in front of her face. "Oh... Oh god. She's... She's sniffing them."

"I noticed yeah."

"And now she's fingering herself again. Oh dear God."

"She's... Turned out by all that? What the fuck is going on here?"

"I don't know! Wait... Is Madison fingering herself too!?"

"... She is! This is... shit."

They ran out of words then, simply watching in muted horror as they, their favorite chew toy and their friend masturbated in front of each other, having some weird, fucked up lust feedback loop. The duo got increasingly more uncomfortable as they watched, but for entirely different reasons.

Sophia tried very hard not to fidget as she desperately wished Emma wasn't sitting on top of her.

And then Taylor offered the prostrate girl a reward as she sat down. There was no doubt in their minds as to what the reward was, if the mortification in them was any clue. And that mortification multiplied when Madison didn't even fucking hesitate before spilling. Then Taylor stood up and walked off frame.

"I... Don't know if I can watch this..." Emma said. "I'm getting really grossed out, but... but at the same time I am just so morbidly curious. It's like watching a sex train crash in slow motion. It's really hard to look away.

"... That's as good as an analogy as any. Sex train though? The fuck is that"

"I dunno! Can you give a coherent description for this?"

"... Touche."

Then Taylor came back and sat at the very edge of the frame, in front of Madison, who started to crawl towards the sitting girl. Madison looked up when she finally kneeled in front of Taylor's spread legs, likely holding eye contact. She then began slowly getting closer to Taylor, her head disappearing behind the long, shapely legs. And then Taylor squeaked. Then the squeak became a moan, deep and throaty. She was also beginning to shake quite noticeably.

Emma was aware of the blush on her ears as watched Madison go to town on Taylor's pussy. The way she was moaning and trembling told her that whatever Madison was doing felt damn good. She never had anybody eat her out, as much as she dearly wanted the opposite. She tried dating many guys, but none ever offered her any. It was like foreplay was a foreign concept to them. And it made her wish really hard that somebody would do it to her.

She didn't compare to Sophia though, not even close.

"Oh dear god, I shouldn't be this turned on!" thought Sophia as she wished again Emma wasn't sitting on top of her. She was really tempted to begin touching her. "Those moans are driving me nuts!" She couldn't even rub her thighs together, not without Emma noticing. And that might get really awkward really quick.

And then they were both startled out of their flustering when a very loud "Madison" came through the speakers. It seemed the girl stepped up her game, if the way Taylor moans' volume picked up. It caused to go right back at being flustered as fuck.

That was their situation for a while. They watched quietly, if breathing a little hard, as the couple on screen had their fun, each desperately wanting to be in Taylor's place. They both saw Madison shift her hand from Taylor's leg, moving it underneath her. They knew what she was going to to, and it proved incredibly effective, if Taylor's arching back was anything to judge by.

"Oh christ," mumbled Sophia, as she stared red faced at the way Hebert's back curved. It was fucking beautiful.

"Yeah..." agreed Emma. She wasn't ogling Taylor though, just generally shocked.

They kept watching quietly as Taylor finally came down from her orgasm and slumped on top of Madison. She recovered remarkably quick. She then forced Madison to kiss her. They leaned in as they watched Taylor move Madison back, and returned the favor, so to say.

A shiver went through the both of them as they watched Madison finally orgasm, slumping against Taylor when she finished. Then they were completely befuddled when Taylor kissed Madison again as she moved her to rest on the bench. Then they openly gaped as Madison sucked Taylor's hand clean.

"Ewww..." said Emma as Taylor walked off frame again. "She sucked her own juices."

Sophia didn't say anything, because she did find that exceedingly hot too.

"Sophia?" Emma asked as she turned towards her, curious of her silence. Sophia catched the movement out of the corner of her eye, and turned to meed Emma.

They stared at each other, both red faced and breathing harder than normal. Then they realized that their lips were inches apart, of how pressed together they were. And most damningly, Sophia's arm around Emma's waist.

With a yelp, they scrambled of the chair and rushed to the opposite sides of the room, struggling to keep their breathing under control. "So..." said Sophia once she was under control, pointedly staring at the door.

"So..." answered Emma still somewhat flustered. Her eyes didn't leave the dusty blinds.

"You too, huh?"

"Yeah..."

"... Want to talk about it?"

"No. I'm good."

"You sure?"

"I'm straight, Sophia."

"I know, but..."

"Not talking! Period!"

"Ok, fine! Sheesh..."

They lapsed into silence then, only to be interrupted when Taylor's voice came through the speakers. "You did well little Mady," she said. The duo turned to look at each other then, eyebrows cocked. They rushed back to the computer soon enough to hear the very weak "Thank you, Mistress," from Madison. They stared at each other in shock, before looking back to see Taylor walk out frame again. "See ya later, little Mady" she said, and they heard the door close behind her.

Both friends looked at each other significantly then. Emma sat down again on the desk she cleaned. Sophia sat on teachers desk, facing the redhead.

"So," opened Emma, "Shit went completely fubar."

"That's putting it mildly," answered Sophia as she leaned back on the desk. "What are going to do with Madison? I was expecting her to chicken out and fail the test. But she didn't. Hell, she passed under the exact words of the agreement. But then she went ahead and got dominated like a little bitch. Worst, she liked it. We can't have someone like that with us."

"Ew. No. You are right. Weak willed sluts like that gross me out. She's definitely exiled."

"What about Hebert then? She's always been the wimp, letting us push her around. That though? That was the opposite. She dominated Clements both physically and sexually. That's so out of character for her that it's not even funny. Can we expect it to happen again?"

Emma assumed the classic thinker pose, frowning thoughtfully as she did so. "I... don't know. You heard her. She's done dealing with our BS. But she might be bluffing, and this might be a one time fluke-"

"Or she might have finally snapped and might go after us next."

"-Or that yes. But we can't tell that yet. I really don't know."

Sophia leaned towards Emma, putting her elbows at the knees. "I think we should pull back," she said. "Scale down, leave her be."

"What!?" shouted Emma. "We're just leaving her be? No. I won't give up just because Madison is a fucking-" Sophia raised her hand, quieting her ranting.

"Let me finish," she growled. "We back out, see how she reacts. Depending on that, we start harassing her again. Not like we do now. We start from the beginning. Re-testing her limits, to say it another way. Once we figure out what we can get away with, we work with that."

Emma hummed in thought, before answering "That sounds about right. We can't really afford Taylor to go after us. She's clever, if she wants to have her way with us, she'll find a way. Leaving her alone might give might let her calm down."

"One more thing, Emma."

"Yes?"

"Mocking Hebert's mother is now banned."

Emma snorted in response. "Yeah, no shit."

They lapsed into thoughtful silence then, each processing the events transpired. And maybe having a fantasy or two.

"Do you think we should get Madison?" Emma finally asked.

"... Eh. What the hell. One last act of pity before we kick her out. Sure, let's go."

And with that, they packed up, and went to meet their soon to be ex-friend.


* * *

1.4

I stood in front to the Undersiders' HQ, my shaking hand on the door, but I dare not open it. I'll admit, I was scared as all fuck. I'd just had sex of dubious consent with another girl in the school's locker room. How would Lisa react? Would she be horrified? Disgusted? Both? Would she tell the others so they could beat me up and turn me over to the police? Would they kill me on the spot? Wait, no they wouldn't. Killing rapists isn't their style. Not sure about the police bit though. Oh god, my legs are shaking. I don't know if I can—

The door opened then, Rachel looking at me with a miffed expression. "Lisa says that you need to stop being a wuss and get in," she said, shouldering me aside, her dogs behind her. She disappeared around the corner, without so much a hello or a goodbye. I blinked a couple of times before shrugging. I've only known Rachel for about a week now, but I was beginning to get used to her particular kind of brusqueness. I shook my head, took a deep breath, and stepped into the lair.

Climbing up the spiral staircase, I found Lisa waiting for me. She was sitting on the table, looking at something on the laptop. She turned to me as I approached, smiling as she did so. "Hi Taylor, what's-" her smile dropped, replaced with blank shock. I stopped where I stood, holding my breath. I don't know how long she stared at me, but after a while, she simply stood and began walking towards her room. "Nope. No way. Not dealing with this crap."

I stared, dumbstruck. "L-lisa?" I stuttered. She stumbled, but kept going. I could feel my heart shatter. "Lisa," I pleaded, "please." She stopped then, looking over shoulder, and sighed.

"Ok, fine," she said. "I help with your little," at this she made air quotes, "fuckup." I flinched when she said that. She already knew, and she wasn't happy. I knew she wouldn't be, and she shouldn't, really. I'd be pissed too if my new friend turned out to be a rapist. She sat down, and gestured for me to do the same. I complied, trying to hide behind my hair. "Ok," she said once I was settled. "Tell me exactly how in hell you ended up forcing a guy to have sex with you."

I hesitated for a moment before mumbling "It was a girl."

Lisa blinked. "What?"

"It was a girl. I... forced a girl t-to have sex with me..."

Lisa looked surprised for a moment before she closed her eyes and started massaging her temples. "Ok," she said as she looked at me again. "So a girl, no, one of your bullies. You forced yourself on her. How, and why?"

"I was... taking a shower, at school. I got covered in mud, earlier. So I was getting rid of it. I was distracted with... stuff-" she snorted and I flinched, "-when she went in, so I didn't notice her. When I walked out, my clothes were missing. The only thing there were my glasses. So then Madison walks behind me with... Oh shit!" I stood up suddenly, startling Lisa. The camera! I'd completely forgotten! "Shit shit shit!" Had it recorded the assault too? Oh shit, they could use it to jail me! I'll be going to prison. I'll be jailed and I'll be used like a fucktoy and I... won't be able to see dad anymore. Oh god... Oh dear God...

"Taylor!" Lisa called as she cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look at her in the eye. "Calm down. Breathe. Focus on me." I did as told, focusing on Lisa's pretty green eyes and I could feel my heart rate start to normalize. Lisa smiled faintly. " Thanks. So this girl, Madison, she had a camera?" I nodded. "Ok. Tell me, was it the same girl that pushed you into the mud?" I blinked and nodded again. I saw what Lisa was going with this. "Yep. I see you got it now. Definitely sounds like you were set up. We'll figure the camera business later. For now, just sit back, and keep going where you left off." I sat back down, and waited for her to do the same.

"Ok, so she had a camera. She told me she caught me on camera doing... you know..."

"Masturbating, I know." I gaped at Lisa, and she smiled back softly. I was pretty damn sure my cheeks were red. She shook her head and made go on motions.

"She..." I squeaked. I cleared my throat, trying not to shrink in embarrassment. "She wanted me to... to finish myself, if you know what I mean." She nodded. "When I don't do it, she tells me she won't give me my clothes back unless I do." Lisa frowns. "So it was either masturbating for the girl I hate, or streak through town. I took the option that wouldn't get me raped and killed." Her lips twist into a grimace. "So I drop the towel and show Madison everything. And then... She started..." I couldn't go on. The memory alone made it hard to breathe. Lisa reached across the table squeeze my hand.

"I can guess what she did. You can skip it." I nodded, grateful for her bullshit deduction.

I took a moment to get my breathing back under control. Thinking about the next bit was making me hyperventilate too, for entirely different reasons. I could feel the same bubble of rage forming again. "She insulted my mother." Lisa blinked in surprise at my vehemence. "Called her a slut. And I just... snapped. So I slapped her. More than once. I ranted and raved as I did so. When it was her back against the lockers, I pinned her in place. I might have ranted a little more. I can't quite remember, only that I was really pissed at her."

"Wow. Ok, so this is where you... Had your way with her?" She looked distinctly uncomfortable asking that. I found it a little bit amusing. But I shook my head.

"No. After screaming at her I felt a little better. So I asked her for my clothes, but she wouldn't tell me. I tried slapping her again, but she didn't budge. And that's when... I kinda sorta raped her."

Lisa stared at me askance. "Kinda? Taylor, there's no maybes, ifs or buts with rape. Either it was consensual or... not? Wait, you are not sure? What the fuck Taylor?"

"I don't know!" I cried hysterically. "Does it count as rape if she calls you `Mistress' at the end?"

Lisa blinked owlishly, lips parted. "She called you... Fuck. No, I'm not dealing with this shit," she said as she stood up.

"Lisa!?" I cried, panicking.

"Stay put! I'll be back," she called back as she disappeared into Alec's... Oh no.

My fears came true when five minutes later, Lisa walked back into view, dragging a groggy Alec by the elbow. She plumped him into a seat before retaking hers.

"Alright dork," Alec said testily. "What could be so impossibly important that you had to drag me out of bed?"

I looked at Lisa, who nodded seriously. I turned to Alec and asked "If... you force yourself onto a girl and-and have sex with her, does it count as rape if she calls you `Mistress' after you're done?"

Alec stared unblinkingly between me and Lisa, not saying anything. I was sweating under his scrutiny, waiting for him to say something.

And then he laughed. Laughed until he dropped of the chair. Laughed until he moaned in pain between guffaws. "Oh my sides..." he wheezed as he calmed down. He climbed back into the chair, leaning shakingly on the table. "Ok, spill dork. Tell me everything. Spare no detail; height, hair and eye color, body type, bust size, shape of her lips -and I mean both sets-, how she blushed and how far. Then tell me exactly how you had your way with her. In explicit detail."

I stared unbelievably at Alec, then at Lisa, who mirrored my expression. "What does her looks have to do with anything?"

Alec wagged a finger at me. "No no. I'm the expert here. I get to ask all the questions, not you."

"Alec," Lisa said severely. "I didn't bring you out here for you to-"

"Listen, if you guys don't want my help, then I can just go back to sleep." Lisa pursed her lips, like she was indecisive. She looked at me, as if she was asking me if I was ok with this.

"... Is it really necessary?" I asked the boy.

"Think of it as payment for my services."

"... Ok," I said. I took a deep breath and started describing Madison. Her brown shoulder length hair, her light brown eyes, her button nose, her doll-like lips, her petite frame. Her clothes came next. Then I repeated, with great mortification, the events with as great a detail I could. How Madison had molested me. Then how I slapped her. How I pinned her as I lectured her. How I raged when she wouldn't tell me where my clothes where. How in my rage I hiked up her skirt and mocked her for being so wet.

"Wait," interrupted Lisa. "She was wet?"

I nodded. "Very. Her thighs were almost covered." She groaned and covered her face with her hands. Alec looked like he was having the time of his life.

Without any more comments, I continued to describe the wedgie I gave Madison. Lisa looked downright horrified at that part. Her hands even disappeared under the table. The next bit was a bit difficult. I felt my face heat up again as I described how I sniffed Madison's panties, how she ate me out, and how I fingered her into an orgasm. By the end, I was embarrassed, red faced, and more than a little turned on. My only consolation was that Lisa seemed just as flustered as I was.

"Wow," said Alec when I finished. "I am truly impressed dork. I didn't peg you for the angry dominant type, but I suppose it's always the quiet ones that are the kinkiest." I ducked my head at the comment. I'm not kinky. "You know Lisa," he said, turning towards the blonde. "I am really thankful for you bringing me in. Totally worth losing the beauty sleep. Just your face alone right now is enough."

"Enough Alec. We all know I'm blushing. Just please drop it."

"Ha! Nothing to be ashamed of! I know I'm a little frisky; it's totally understandable if you are too. I mean, l that shit eating grin of yours is kind of annoying; it's nice to see something different. Hell, you even look cute!"

Lisa was scowling pretty hard. "Alec," she warned.

"Hey! I have an idea! Taylor! Why don't you dominate little Lisa here! That should get rid of your problems and hers!"

I felt my face heat up again as I heard Lisa groan, followed by a thump as her face met the table. "I'm not dominating Lisa!" I squeaked. "She's my friend, and I'm straight!" I cringed the moment the words left my mouth. Alec snorted and Lisa looked at me from where she was resting on the table, eyebrow cocked.

"Could've fooled me," snarked Alec.

Lisa shook her head as she lifted it of the table. "You did actually fool me, you know."

"Huh?" both Alec and I said in unison.

"When I first met you, and ever since until today, my powers always said you're straight. I mean, your interest in Brian was very damn obvious. Even now, you still read as straight. Hell, you never even looked at me with any form of sexual interest-" Then it struck me how pretty Lisa's lips were, as they moved. How I wanted to kiss them. "-right until now," Lisa finished lamely.

"So what," said Alec. "She's only gay when somebody points it out to her?"

Lisa blinked at Alec, then she leaned her head on her knuckles, thoughtful look on her face. "You... might actually have something there, Alec."

"He does?" "I do?"

She nodded. "Taylor, when was it that you first noticed you felt this way about a woman?"

"W-what? I've never..." She looked at me, her expression all but screaming `I see your BS, stop it'. I sighed in defeat. "I think... it started with Miss Staker."

"Who?" she asked, and I narrated my encounter with the substitute coach. "Huh," the blonde said as I finished. "So you felt attracted to her the moment you felt she might be flirting with you?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Huh. What does that tell you?"

"That Taylor is incredibly cheap and needy?" interrupted Alec.

"Nobody asked you," snapped Lisa.

"Bite me."

"I d-don't know?" I stuttered, trying to avoid an argument.

Lisa sighed. "Right. Was that the first time you thought of a woman that way?"

"I think so? No, yeah. That's the first time."

"Hmm. Did you ever try looking at a girl that way?"

"Umm, no? I mean, I always was attracted to boys, so I just assumed."

"What made assume then?"

"I... don't know? I mean, boys is the only thing I spoke with Emma so-"

"I got it!" Lisa interrupted, her trademark grin forming. "You only discussed boys, so your attraction naturally leaned that way because that was Emma was expecting of you!" she finished with the air of a master detective solving a hard case.

"So wait, I was straight because I only thought I was?" I finally asked.

"Yep," she said as she nodded. "You didn't have any natural inclinations of your own, so you used your peers as reference. I'm sure if you had an openly gay friend, you would've realized it earlier. You came to realize it now because when your coach came onto you, your subconscious told you it was fine with it, even if your conscious still insisted in being straight."

"So," Alec said, "what you are saying is that the dork couldn't make up it's mind and said `fuck it, why not both?' That's it?"

"Essentially, yes."

I leaned back in the chair, looking at the ceiling as I digested all the information I was given. Was I truly straight only because Emma was too? Did I really never looked at another girl just because I didn't consider it? Was I really bi? I looked at Lisa, scanning her features. Her beautiful bottle green eyes, her slightly curving nose, her pink lips. I moved down to look down at her pert breasts. Did I want to touch them? Touch her?

I did, I realized. "Huh, I... I think you are right."

"Of course I am," Lisa answered haughtily, but deflated a moment later. "Just... Please don't think of me that way?" she pleaded. "It makes me uncomfortable."

I blinked. "Sure. I-I'll try." She smiled, albeit a little weakly. We lapsed into silence then.

It was Lisa who broke the silence when she asked "What do you plan to do tomorrow Taylor?" some time later

... Shit. "I don't know," I answer. "I'm halfway afraid that Madison will report me to the police and that the moment I step into the school I'll be cuffed."

"Nah," said Alec dismissively. "She obviously goaded you into fucking her, which means she wanted it. If anything, she'll probably come back looking for more." Oh. I didn't know what to think about that. "So unless she tells somebody else, you're good."

I blinked as I remembered something. "Shit, the camera."

"I don't think you have to worry much about that," said a thoughtful Lisa. "From what I gather about Madison and the rest of the troupe, they are smart enough to not use the tape against you, if it existed in the first place."

"Huh?" I intelligently asked.

"Think about it," she said. "They've avoided punishment by maintaining perfect deniability, right?" I nodded. "But that deniability goes poof the moment they show the vid, because somebody is going to ask `wait, why did you have a camera in the locker room in the first place?' and that's something they cannot bullshit their way out of. So it's most likely that if they actually filmed anything, they'll delete as soon as possible. They can't risk it being found. That could qualify as child porn, which is another can of worms altogether. So yeah, you're good."

Huh. Hadn't thought of it that way. That meant that I was safe from blackmail too. That's a relief. Still though, if Madison did record something, would she show it to the other two? Did they even know? It's possible that she did it under her own initiative, but it's not her style.

"I'm tempted agree with you," said Lisa, startling me out my thoughts. "Madison is the cute one right? The one who mostly sticks to the childish stuff?" I nodded. "Had she ever gotten physical with you before?" I shook my head. "Right, so it's likely that she was put up to it by the other two. I don't have enough info, but I can guess that it might have been some sort of test or initiation."

"That makes sense," I agreed. "I can see Sophia getting fed up with Madison for not being `tough' enough or some other shit like that. In that case it means the other two probably saw the video." I frowned. "The question is how are they going to react."

Lisa hummed thoughtfully while Alec checked his nails. "Honestly? I think they're going to just fuck off for a while," he said dismissively. "They've been poking a kitten simply because they could. So when the kitten finally bites back, they'll flinch back."

"That's a surprisingly apt analogy," said Lisa appraisingly. "And one that has a pretty good chance to be true. Bullies in general do their thing because they know they can get away with it with impunity. I can't see them doing anything to you after a demonstration like that."

"So... they are just going to leave me alone?"

"For a while at least," answered Lisa. "If you don't do anything, they are likely to start harassing you again. It won't be as bad as it was though. They'll likely start small and go from there. That's of course, if you don't do anything to further scare them off."

"But... what should I do? Force myself on them too? To be honest, the thing with Madison was more of a fluke than anything. I was pissed and frustrated, and Madison is short and not very fit. That's not the case with Emma and Sophia. And quite honestly? I'm not comfortable forcing anybody to have sex with me. Hell, I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of having sex with girls in the first place. The thing with Madison is still freaking me out."

Both Lisa and Alec looked thoughtful. "This is definitely a problem," said Lisa. "You can't really go to the authorities, that already failed. A straight up fight, whether physical or social is out. The other options are way to cut throat for you to actually pull off. The s-sex approach is suspect at best." She shook her head in defeat. "I have too little information."

Alec, while Lisa was speaking, had leaned back on his chair, arms crossed, chin to his chest, the classic brooding pose. He stayed there for a while after Lisa finished. Then in a slow, deliberate movement, he leaned into the table, steepling his fingers and resting his face behind them. Both Lisa and I looked on with interest.

"Taylor," he said with such a sobriety that we both startled. That might have been the first time he called me by my name. "Tell me about these three girls. Their daily behavior: Who they hang out with, how they dress, and how exactly do they bully you. Be as explicit as you can."

I looked at Lisa, but she was just as incredulous as I was; she just shrugged. Tentably, I started describing the trio in a more general fashion. Their tendencies and the like. I went through a brief account of the last year and a half, describing the essentials of all that they've done to me. Well... almost everything. But it seemed to be enough. Alec took everything and didn't comment on anything. And that unnerved me. In the week I've known Alec for, I've come to expect him to be acidic and dismissive. The intensity in his eyes was a complete one-eighty from that. After I finished, he closed his eyes and stayed completely still for minutes.

"I have a proposition for you, Taylor," he said as he opened his eyes. "One that might solve your bully problem permanently."

I blinked and looked at Lisa again. She was looking at Alec with a mix of awe and horror. Turning back to Alec, I tentably, fearfully, said "I'm listening."

He smiled then, and it wasn't a very nice smile. "How does your very own harem sound?"

Picking Up The Pieces

(Автор: Moostache)

"I'm sorry"

Taylor ignored her as best she could. She was lying in bed, curled up in the fetal position facing away from the open door of her room at HQ.

She didn't want to talk to anyone right now. Especially not her.

"I was desperate. I-I thought things would be easier if there as another girl on the team. That w-way, I wouldn't be alone in this hell. I'd have someone to relate t-to."

Taylor resisted the urge to snort. She couldn't believe this bitch. After everything that happened between them at school, was she really expecting sympathy from her?

Of course, if she was doing this fucked up job from the start...

Eyes tightly squeezing shut even more, Taylor banished the thought as a brief shudder passes through her body and hot bile rises to her throat.

Don't think about it.

Don't.

"But then your n-name was called up"-god dammit-"and all I could feel was... was sickness. I felt s-sick to my stomach. And when you came back and I saw the look on your f-face... I... I..."

Shut up. Shoulders shaking and breath coming in short breaths, Taylor fails to keep the tears from slipping through her eyelids. Just shut up and go away you fucking bitch!

"I should have let you leave", Taylors eyes shoot open at this. What?! "I s-should have let you run away the moment you saw me. But I was desperate and selfish, and I didn't really think about how it would end! B-believe me, Taylor, if I could go b-back I wouldn't have begged you to stay-"

Taylor suddenly bolted upright on her bed and turned her body to her open door to look Sophia Hess in the face, meeting her teary eyes with fierce glare that spoke of all the seething hatred she felt toward the dark-skinned girl before her. Taking in the pained look on the other female Ward's face and the pathetic way she held herself in Taylor's abrupt scrutiny, Brockton Bay's newest Ward and glorified PRT prostitute said the first thing that came to mind.

"Fuck you, Sophia."

Sophia's eyes hardend before just as quickly losing their fire as she did her best to maintain eye contact. The shame on her face becoming apparent once more.

Taylor let out a growl as she grit her teeth at the display of the person she hates most at this very moment. How dare she!

"After everything", Taylor hisses. "After everything you and the other bitches put me through, I had to become some rich basterd's fuck toy before I got any sympathy out of you?" Sophia flinches and Taylor can't help but feel a vicious satisfaction. A sick sense of vindication that rolls in her gut. So there is a human being in there after all, huh? Too little, too late.

"Taylor-"

"What makes you think", Taylor cut her off, "that I want to talk to you right now? What makes you think I want to see your face?"

Sophia stares at her for a moment before wiping what few tears remain from her face and speaking as calmly as she can, "W-well, this was your first, um, 'job', and I re-remember my first and how fucked up I was afterward and I thought, since Gallant isn't here, I'd, you know", she looks uncomfortable and a bit emmbarrassed at what she says next, "try and comfort you."

Taylor stares at her for a full five seconds before a small snort makes it past her nose followed closely by a series of giggles that soon devolve into a sort of deranged laughter that honestly scares the shit out of Sophia, especeally as she can hear a low buzzing in the backround.

"Y-you", Taylor manages to get out, tears streaming down her face. "You honestly thought I'd let you anywhere near me? In order to 'comfort' me? How fucking stupid do you think I am? You caused my Trigger, you psycho! What makes you think I'd trust you like that? Because I already made that mistake with Emma."

"Dammit, Taylor this is serious", replies Sophia as she take a few steps forward. "This isn't a trick. I'm trying to hel-"

The buzzing gets louder as Taylor stands up from her bed, "Get back", she growls out, making it clear what will happen if Sophia takes another step forward.

"Tay-"

"I said, "GET BACK!"

"Okay!", Sophia exclaims as she steps back as the swarm she knows is somewhere in the room get lounder. Taking a deep breath, she exhales loudly as she prepares to say her peace.

20.y

(Автор: ZipLopZ)

The thoughts were so sharp they were difficult to distinguish from reality. He shifted his hold on his cane, staring into her eyes. She still stood before him.

With just the fractional movement of his hands, there was a change in her body language. Muscles in her neck and shoulders grew more taut, her breathing changed. She said, "Sir-"

"Shh," he said. She fell silent.

His left hand cupped her chin, his eyes never leaving hers. More of a reaction: her eyes flickered, moving mere milimeters as she strained to maintain eye contact. he could feel the warmth of her breath on his wrist as she exhaled slowly, the faintest of movements against his hand as she shifted her weight to stay absolutely still.

His thumb brushed against her cheek. Soft. He knew she dedicated an hour every morning to caring for her skin, another hour to her hair. Unlike hers, his gaze was unwavering, assured. In his peripheral vision, he could see her chest rise and fall. He wasn't a sexual creature, not in the base, animal sense. The idea of intercourse, it didn't appeal. The mess of it. But she was a thing of beauty, nonetheless. He could appreciate her from an aesthetic standpoint.

Citrine had shifted out of place, though. A square peg, just askew enough that it wouldn't slide into the hole designated for it. It jarred, and it cast a pallor on everything else that was right about her.

As his fingers moved, tracing the line of her jaw, drifting to her chin, the idea of cutting her throat invaded his thoughts. A quick, clean severing of vital flows. He could see the lines of tension in her neck as she stretched it, striving to keep it absolutely still.

Again, though, the disorder, the disruption. Blood was so messy, and as much as he might relish the opportunity to take thirty minutes from his day and clean up back in a more secure area, others would see, and it would throw too many things out of balance.

There wasn't a right answer here, and it bothered him.

Thinking rationally, he knew he was irritated. The location, even this city, they didn't suit him. He couldn't act on that, not yet, and the resulting dissatisfaction affected how he responded to the little things.

His fingers broke contact with her chin, one by one, as he contemplated his options. By the time his index finger had dropped away, he'd decided.

"You're my best ambassador, Citrine," he said.

She was breathing just a bit harder than she had been, as the tension that had drawn her entire body tight was released. A flush touched her cheeks as she responded, "Yes sir."

"I don't want to lose you."

"Yes sir, I'll do my utmost to ensure you don't have cause to."

"Please do," he said. He noted that the flush had spread down to her decolletage. Not the result of fear or anger. Another base emotion. "Citrine?"

She glanced at him.

"Calm yourself."

"Yes sir," she breathed the words.

He glanced at Othello, who wore a black suit and a mask divided between alabaster white and jet black. The man hadn't commented or flinched as Accord addressed Citrine.

Stress Relief

(Автор: kamenhero25)

"Fuck," Amy moaned as she slammed her head into her writing desk.

"What's wrong?" Taylor said as she looked up from her laptop.

"It's just I have to finish my term paper and study for my anatomy final and my biology test is in the morning and then..."

"Whoa, whoa, breathe Amy." Taylor climbed off of her bed. "You're not doing yourself any favors by stressing out all night." She walked across the dorm room and placed a hand on her roommate's shoulder.

"But I have to pass this test. Last time I got bad grades mom was... pissed."

Taylor groaned. "Your mom needs to stop pushing. You know exactly what you're doing. You just need to stop letting her get to you."

Amy sighed and laid her head on her desk. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

Taylor set her hands on Amy's shoulders and slowly began to rub them. "Why don't you just take a break and relax a little. You have plenty of time to study." She began to rub harder, gently massaging Amy's shoulders.

"Not now Taylor," Amy said, shrugging her shoulders and pushing her off slightly. "I don't have time..."

"Easy," Taylor said as she began to massage harder, eliciting a small moan from her roommate. "You're not going to remember anything if you let yourself be stressed all night."

Amy gave another small moan as Taylor's insistent hands began to move down her back, slowly rubbing in smooth comforting circles. "Fuck." She moaned softly. "Alright. Just a little break."

Taylor grinned. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No." Amy moaned again. "Feels good."

Taylor rubbed lower, trailing her hands down Amy's back until she brushed against the bottom hem of her shirt. After a moment of hesitation, she slid her hand under the shirt and ran her hands over the skin at the bottom of Amy's back. Amy moaned again as Taylor's fingers touched her bare skin. "Do you want to move to the bed?" Taylor asked.

Amy nodded. "Yeah." She got out of her chair and stretched before moving over to the bed. After a moment, she pulled of her top, revealing her perky breasts and her simple white bra before lying down on the bed. Taylor practically ripped her own shirt off and climbed onto the bed. She straddled Amy's hips and eagerly resumed her massage. Amy gave a content sigh as Taylor's hand pressed against a knot in her back. "Lower."

Taylor moved her hands slowly down her back, feeling for stiff points and knots of tension as she worked. "You've really been stressing out about this," she said as she pressed her thumbs into a stiff point along Amy's spine. "God, I can feel it."

Amy nodded slightly. "Lower." She squirmed a little as Taylor's hands moved back to her lower back, straying close to her ass. "Mom's been insisting that I get my grades up."

Taylor laughed. "Have you ever gotten lower than a B in your life?"

"Victoria got a 3.8 last semester. Mom wanted me to measure up." Amy buried her face in the covers.

"Victoria is a sports training major. It's a little easier than pre-med." Taylor's hands strayed lower again, tugging at Amy's pants.

Amy shot a look back at Taylor. "Yeah I know." She didn't sound convinced.

Taylor moved down, this time outright running her hand over Amy's ass. "Maybe you need a more intense massage if you're going to be stubborn with me."

Amy moaned again softly. "Just a quick one," she said.

Taylor grinned. "You're entirely too dressed for that dear." She climbed off of Amy and stripped off the rest of her clothes in a heartbeat.

Amy nodded and slid her pants down, but didn't get any further before Taylor jumped on top of her, mashing their lips together in a deep kiss. Heat immediately flooded her body and she pulled her lover in close as Taylor's tongue ravaged her mouth and they both fell back onto the bed. "Eager today, aren't you?" she teased as Taylor finally emerged for air.

"You've been studying nonstop all week. We haven't had any alone time."

Amy giggled. "Well, I guess we need to fix that then." She kissed Taylor again and grabbed Taylor's breasts, massaging the firm B cups. Taylor's nipples were already rock hard and she could feel Taylor's heart pounding in her chest. Taylor unhooked her lover's bra and pulled it out from between their bodies before dropping her lips to Amy's breasts and placing a kiss on her right nipple. Amy moaned softly at the contact. "Fuck, don't tease."

"Can't handle a little foreplay?" Taylor ran two fingers over the front of Amy's panties feeling moisture beginning to soak the front of her underwear. "Damn. Did my little massage get you this excited already? It really has been too long."

Amy moaned again as Taylor's fingers began to rub her pussy through her panties. "Well, we've been busy..."

Taylor kissed her other nipple and nipped at it slightly. "And whose fault was that?" She slid her hand inside Amy's panties. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you." Her fingers firmly rubbed again Amy's pussy, brushing against her clit and teasing her slit. Taylor pulled her fingers out and licked her lover's juices off her hand, running her tongue suggestively along her fingers and sucking her hand.

Amy blushed slightly at Taylor's display, but she felt the heat spike between her legs. She didn't want Taylor to stop touching her. "Let me return the favor." Her hand gripped her lover's hip and pulled her close while her free hand began to rub at Taylor's pussy. She could feel Taylor's arousal dripping from her wet pussy and pushed one finger inside her.

Taylor pulled Amy's panties down. "If you can still talk, I'm not doing my job." One finger slid into Amy's pussy and began to finger her. Amy moaned and threw her head back and Taylor moved her thumb to rub against her clit. "That's better." She grinned and added a second finger while taking one of Amy's nipples in her mouth and beginning to suck. She could feel the heat building inside Amy's slick pussy. "Are you going to cum for me already?"

Amy's back arched, pushing Taylor's fingers deeper inside her. She gripped the sheets hard, feeling heat surging through her body. "Yesss..." she hissed.

Taylor added a third finger and began to rub her clit faster. "Then stop holding back on me."

Amy tried to let out a scream as her pleasure peaked but Taylor caught her mouth in another kiss. Her entire body tensed and her pussy spasmed around her lover's fingers as she hit her climax. Taylor fingered her relentlessly through her climax, keeping their mouths looked together until Amy slumped back on the bed, panting slightly. "Fuck," she moaned.

"Better?" Taylor asked brightly.

"Yes," Amy said, still out of breath. "Yes." She shook her head, forcibly clearing the pleasant post-orgasmic fog. "But I still haven't managed to return the favor."

Taylor grinned and spun around so they were in a 69 position, hanging her wet pussy enticingly above Amy's face. "Then be my guest. I want to taste your pussy before I let you go back to studying."

Warm Sparks

(Автор: Shana the Short)

"In this world, shipmates, sin that pays its way can travel freely and without a passport; whereas Virtue, if a pauper, is stopped at all frontiers."

? Herman Melville, Moby-Dick; or, The Whale


* * *

I typed out my notes in a rapid staccato, jotting down the words almost as fast as they left his mouth. It wasn't nearly as impressive as it might have sounded — Mr. Gladly was a genial man, the kind that liked to connect with his students. That meant he frequently paused after making jokes, or to just look around and smile warmly at the class. He did so now, selecting me as his eye-contact target of the moment. I felt his gaze on me and glanced up, offering a smile of my own.

I made sure to crinkle my eyes a little, even if it did give the expression a shy cast. If Aleph had taught me anything, it was that the illusion of sincerity and vulnerability was priceless. He had actually admitted that he was jealous about how easy it was for me. I didn't have the heart — or, perhaps more fittingly, the time or patience — to explain that I wasn't actually faking anything. He understood when we Collaborated, but outside of that he found it difficult to really grasp some things, like the way the average person dealt with their emotions. Or social mores. Or taboos. Sometimes even things like basic human decency, but that was less and less common these days.

The Canadian breeding protocols were fucked up, in my somewhat biased opinion. I was unspeakably thankful that I was assigned to pair off with Aleph, and not one of his brothers; he told me stories about them, sometimes. I got lucky, with him.

That wasn't to say the American protocols were much better. I dropped my smile and went back to typing as Mr. Gladly moved on and my thoughts drifted into more troubled waters. In retrospect, though it had felt like a raw deal at the time, manifesting really had been one of the best things to happen to me. It certainly hadn't felt like it at the time, however. Back then I had still been 'just Taylor,' equal parts nervous and excited about finally getting my period and catching up to Emma, who had even then been beginning to fill out like her sister. I had been a late bloomer, in both senses, and I certainly hadn't expected to manifest; my mother certainly hadn't, and my father had a weak Architect affinity, but that was all.

One day I was 'just Taylor' and the next — the next I was escorted to Brockton Bay's Purebred Regulation Terminal, for registration. We were all caught off-guard, I think. If my parents had any idea that I would end up coming out a Pure Architect — and more than that, a strong one, one of the strongest recorded in my generation so far — they... well, they probably would have still tried to fight my registration and breeding assignment, but they would have had more time to research the system first. Looked for loopholes. Protested in a way that didn't get them removed as my primary guardians, if nothing else.

They had settled down a little over the years since then, but I knew it still stung that any meetings between us had to be instigated by me, and that I was living with Aleph. I didn't know if it mollified them or not when I told them that the two of us weren't sleeping together yet — outside of actually sleeping, that is — or if they believed me when I said it, but that was the truth. I could sort of understand where their skepticism came from, though being a Carrier somewhat numbed me to the values that reigned in normal humans; Aleph had already been put out to stud a few times, before he had been sent over to Brockton Bay for permanent assignment. He had only been thirteen, when we were slotted together.

Fucking Canadians.

I took a deep breath, shaking free of the cherry-pit of anger still smoldering in my chest. The last class of the day was not the time or place to have a temper tantrum. The point was, American regulations were much more lax; they even encouraged pairs to wait to breed until late into their twenties, so they could grow and enhance themselves through contact with other pairs and crossbreeds before producing a new purebred. Aleph had been fine with taking a break from being a glorified turkey-baster for a while, and I was fine with him 'taking the edge off' however he wanted. And the PRT didn't care one way or the other, as long as we didn't breed outside of our pairing.

We weren't in love, not like how the movies and books sometimes depicted being paired off. But Aleph was one of the few constants left in my life, and I loved him for that if nothing else. And I think he loved me too, in his own sort of way. We were stable, and happy, and when we Collaborated we were a force to be reckoned with. By all indications, we were the type of success story breeding programs dreamed about. Our children might be a vital step closer to being true Architects. To being actual Entities.

The bell rang and my fingers slowed to a stop. I slid my tablet into my bag and stood, nodding goodbye to Gladly as I shuffled out of the classroom. When I slipped out into the bustling hallway, I was prepared for the shoulder that knocked into mine and caught my balance on the edge of a block of lockers before I could crash into a wide-eyed freshman. I smiled apologetically at him and he mumbled an unnecessary apology before scurrying away.

"Oops. Sorry about that, Taylor!" Emma chirped behind me with fake sweetness. My smile dropped as I glanced over my shoulder at her. The pretty face that had once been a comfort to me was tinged with an almost imperceptible tinge of bitterness and resentment. "Oh — no, I meant Taf, obviously. Sorry, I'm all over the place today!"

I suppressed the urge to sigh. Back when the original arguments about my registration erupted, I had expected Emma to be my rock. I had expected her to be in my corner, to commiserate about the strange new rules and abilities I had to scramble to understand, and the boy I suddenly had to integrate into my life. Instead she had become jealous and confrontational. We had pretended that we were Carriers, before then, and had taken turns when it came to who was the crew member and who was the Carrier. But that had been child's play, literally, and Emma...

Emma had wanted to be a part of my crew someday, I was sure. The problem was, she hadn't wanted to be part of Aleph's crew, and he and I were a package deal. I don't think she ever fully forgave me for not taking her side, and in retrospect Aleph hadn't helped matters in the slightest. I could forgive him for that, because I knew I was the first thing — er, person — he could truly call his own, instead of being forced to share or fight over with his ever-growing batch of siblings.

"It's fine," I told her, because I didn't want to start a fight. "It happens to everybody."

Her jaw clenched and an ugly look entered her eye when I didn't rise to the bait. Being called by my birthname instead of my Carrier designation wasn't actually an insult; that was just some weird trope that was used in movies and on TV to try and emphasize the otherness of Carriers. Like anybody actually needed the reminders. Even if it had been insulting, I wouldn't have started something. Though we had drifted apart over the years, I didn't want the last words I might ever say to her to be cruel or angry ones.

"Have a good weekend, Emma," I bid her, almost as an afterthought, and then I dove into the crush of students and allowed them to usher me down the hall and out to the monorail.

The ride back to the apartment felt as though the tram was inching its way through tar, even though I knew it was going as fast as it always did. Brockton Bay may not have been the most advanced or largest colony out there, but it met the bare regulations when it came to standards of living. Still, before today it had felt as though time was spinning too fast — that we wouldn't get done packing in time, that the credit transfers wouldn't go through fast enough, that a million things would be left undone and come back to bite us later.

It felt surreal, when the doors finally slid open at my stop and I shuffled off towards the elevator. The apartment building was right across the street from the station, and surrealism bled into the uncanny when I unlocked the door and found our home as barren as it had been the day the PRT liaison first showed it to us. All that was left was the stock furniture and drapes that had come with the apartment itself, and Aleph, sprawled out over the kitchen counter.

"Don't scuff the corian," I scolded him on reflex, swinging the door shut behind me.

He rolled onto his stomach, stretching out like a cat, and gave me a Cheshire grin. "What do you care?" He folded his arms under his chins and waggled his eyebrows at me pointedly. "We aren't exactly leaving them a forwarding address, and we don't have a deposit to lose. We could set this whole place on fucking fire and they couldn't make us cough up a single credit."

"Remember that talk we had about 'impulse control' and 'terrorism'?" I asked, dropping my backpack next to the open suitcase on the stiff loveseat we had both always hated.

"I do!" He pursed his lips, as if in thought. "Now, which one was the terrible life choice I was supposed to avoid...?"

"Ha ha," I rolled my eyes and plucked up the dress-bag and underwear he had left out for me. "Just don't totally wreck the place while I'm in the shower, okay?"

"I won't move from this spot," he promised, his blue eyes sparkling angelically. Considering he had to get ready as well, I highly doubted that.

"...don't touch the sink or garbage disposal, either," I added as I ducked into our bathroom.

"Oh come on!" He shouted after me. I flicked on the fan to drown out his whining and turned the shower on, hanging my clothes on the back of the door as I waited for the water to heat up.

I gave myself a critical once-over as I stripped down, and I felt as uncertain and nervous as I had the day our crew first cooked up this mad gambit. Aleph and I both had our parts to play, but I was fairly sure he'd be the one doing most of the work. I was tall and slender — like a model, Aleph sometimes told me, when we were in bed late at night, ghosting along the edge of a true Collaboration and just indulging in the pure intimacy of the connection, rubbing his cheek against my throat like some skin-hungry cat. He said, as his other half, there was no way I could be unattractive. And, given the high cheekbones and long, dark curls I got from Mom, I was even inclined to believe him.

But 'not being unattractive' wasn't exactly the same as being alluring.

I sighed and shook my head, stepping into the spray and sliding the glass door shut behind me. If nothing else, I tried to console myself, I was supposed to have biology on my side.

There were four main breeds of Carriers — the Fighter class, which manifested as Protectors or Warriors, like Scion himself; the Planner class, which manifested as Architects or Thinkers; the Infiltrator class, which manifested as Observers or Assassins; and the Creator class, which manifested as Producers or Healers. The reason breeding programs were even necessary was because each class supposedly fell under an 'opposites attract' mentality when it came to more... physical types of Collaboration.

Planners and Fighters, Infiltrators and Creators.

I had no idea, though, if that was true or just another outdated belief. I had never met a Pure Warrior or Protector before; they stayed mostly around the Docks, where fighting was permitted. The closest I'd ever come to one was Brian, an Assassin-Warrior crossbreed who had joined our crew early on, and his sister Aisha, an Observer-Protector mix. They went by 'Grue' and 'Imp' respectively when they interfaced with us, which was more canted towards the Fighter-designation trend of taking on the names of mythological monsters. Bitch — she preferred that to Rachel — was a Protector-Healer crossbreed, but for Aleph and I had never felt as attracted to her as we did the Laborn siblings.

Brian had let me down gently, early on, making it clear that he saw me as a second little sister rather than somebody to... physically collaborate with. He still had to turn down passes from Aleph almost daily, but that was little more than a habit these days. Aleph would leer, Brian would roll his eyes, Aleph would try to cop a feel, Brian would dodge and cuss at him, and then we'd go on with whatever job we were running that day. It was old hat, by now. Aisha had no such restraint, but she was still a little young for my conscience and Aleph had caught her eye first.

I was pretty sure neither one of them would complain if I joined in, and Aleph shared what he got from her with me either way, but...

I slowly lathered in my shampoo, staring hard at the muzzy reflection of myself in the fogged up glass. The fact was, I had very little confidence in myself, as a separate Carrier. When I Collaborated with Aleph, when our fragments manifested and slotted together around us, we felt like a god. When Bitch and Grue and Imp and Lambda-154 were slotted in, I felt as though there was nothing in the world that could hold us back.

That wasn't true, obviously, and if it were anybody other than Lambda-154 asking, I would have balked at the start. I worked in my conditioner, drawing lazy circles against my scalp.

She never asked for anything — mostly because she already knew all the answers, but the point still stood — and if she said that Aleph and I needed more power for the plan to work, then I was sure we did. The other option was losing Lambda-154 for good and that wasn't something either of us — any of us, even if Aisha and Bitch had some issues with showing affection — were prepared to do. Lambda-154 was a top-tier Thinker, but she had masqueraded as a Thinker-Observer crossbreed for years, because she had exactly zero interest in breeding. She had confided that she didn't even have an inclination towards... physical collaboration in general.

So naturally, if the PRT wanted to insist that she pair off with Kappa-011, some rich old Pure Thinker who had outlived five of his breeding partners after they had Collaborated with him enough to significantly enhance his abilities, then the only option was...

Well, Aleph liked to call it 'Operation: Fuck Off'.

I had resolved to do my best, and I renewed that resolve as I turned off the tap and stepped out of the shower. And if my best meant primping, dressing up, and doing my level, awkward best to entice a couple Fighter-mixes into physical collaboration, then that was just what was going to have to happen. There was nothing wrong with giving it the old college try, I was sure. I might not be a... an Emma, figure-wise, but Aisha had said showing enough interest would be a surefire tactic, for the Docks. Given that Brian had made a face like he had just bit into a lemon — a rotten one, at that — but hadn't corrected her, I chose to tentatively believe her.

My fledgeling confidence lasted about as long as it took me to dry my hair and get into The Dress.

It deserved capitalization — I wasn't sure where Lambda-154 had found it, but she had to have paid through the nose for it. The fabric was sinfully soft and smooth against my skin, and my normal pallor actually seemed to be enhanced by the dark red dress instead of making me look even pastier than usual. It draped flatteringly in the front, artfully disguising the rather stark absence of any bust to speak of, arching up round my neck in a halter top. From there, it managed to be almost entirely backless, the lower edge resting just above my tailbone. The heels I was emphatically instructed to wear transformed the normal cant of my hips, resulting in a subtle but surprisingly eye-catching curve.

"Since when do you have an ass?" Aleph wanted to know, leaning in the open doorway as he fiddled with his cufflinks.

"Since we let Lambda-154 do the shopping, apparently." My voice came out a little strangled.

"We'd better let her keep doing that, then," he decided, letting his eyes drag up and down my body. He twirled his finger around pointedly. "Come on, let me see the whole shebang, Taf." I obligingly did a little spin, and he let out an obscenely low whistle when he caught sight of the slit that went all the way to mid-thigh. "Damn." He shook his head, catching his lower lip with his teeth briefly. "If we didn't have a boat to catch..."

"Well, we do." I coughed and waved the crystal-tipped pins in my hand a little desperately. "...help me with my hair?"

"I'm gonna do all the work and some muscle-head Fighter is going to wreck it in two-seconds flat," he complained, but he pushed off from the door and took over for me.

It was a good thing he had; we had just enough time to stuff my backpack in the suitcase and catch the tram headed for the shore. The rest of the crew was already waiting for us when we got there, but aside from Aleph and I the only ones particularly dressed up were Bitch and Lambda-154. The former had somehow been talked into black slacks and a sleeveless dress shirt, and Lambda-154 had found herself a nice, conservative long-sleeved evening gown in lilac and black lace for the night. None of us were sitting together once the ship departed since we had bought our tickets at the last possible moment, just to be on the safe side. So I was left alone again, with my thoughts and worries.

Brockton Bay was an artificially regulated dwarf planet with two main landmasses: the residential city I had spent my entire life in, and the Docks. The Docks were where the larger Carriers and frigates entered and departed, but they also doubled as the pleasure district for the colony. Strip clubs, whore-houses, and casinos filled the seedier streets, but there were also high-class playhouses and theaters. Aleph had spent some time there before being shipped over to meet me, and he still took trips out every now and again.

Still, I had never set foot there, for all I had seen the glittering sprawl of neon and glass below when we went out on jobs to the closest colonies, so it was completely understandable that I had to stop a moment to take it all in when I first stepped off the ship. Lambda-154 hooked her arm through mine and neatly steered me forward, waving at Aleph.

"You go on and have fun," she bade him. "Brian and Aisha will make sure all of our stuff transferred over alright, and Bitch and I will look after your better half while she gets her sealegs."

"Don't have to tell me twice," he beamed and curled his hand around my nape, pulling me in for a peck on the cheek before strolling off with a skip in his step. I thought he might even be humming.

Lambda-154 all but dragged me off in the opposite direction, Bitch prowling along in our wake. Our destination for the night seemed to be a casino, which... well, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't surprised. I thought we would have started at a bar, or perhaps a club; I knew most places in the Docks didn't ask for ID as long as you had the credits for an entrance fee, but this seemed a bit ambitious. Or, a dark, self-deprecating part of me piped up, Lambda-154 had already written my part in the plan off as a failure and wanted to at least recoup the credits she wasted on my outfit.

Said Thinker reached out and pinched my side, hard, without looking away from the craps table she had been eyeing up. "Stop that," she scolded me. "There's a lounge with a bar upstairs. That's usually where the Carriers looking for a fight or other ways to spend the night mill around when they're sick of losing credits. Bitch and I will be down here if you need us."

Bitch grunted in what was probably agreement and stalked off to find a wall to hold up. I couldn't blame her for being irritable, since we had shipped the dogs over earlier this week, but that didn't stop the trill of terrified betrayal I felt about being left on my own. Lambda-154 sighed and wrapped her arm around my waist in a loose hug, pressing her cheek against my arm briefly.

"You're going to be fine," she told me. "And if you go up and don't find anybody you like, then we'll just let Aleph pull an all-nighter. I'm not going to ask you to do anything you don't want to — or anybody, for that matter."

"I know," I said quietly. "I just... what if nobody — "

"In that dress?" she snorted. "Don't be stupid, Taf. You look like you stepped out of a magazine. You'll have your pick of the whole place, mark my words."

"Okay," I murmured, hugging her back briefly before taking a few faltering steps forward. I glanced around, and when nobody seemed to look at me askance just because I had left the safety-bubble that was Lambda-154's side, I kept going. Straight back, past the cashiers, right up to the elevator. There were people already waiting — two young couples, tourists, from what I could gather from the rather posh and dazzled atmosphere they had going on — but the elevator was big enough to fit all of us. One of the men hit the button for the lounge and I shifted back into a corner, trying to choke down the lump in my throat as the glass box glided up.

The doors slid open to — well, I'm certain it fit the dictionary definition of 'lounge', but the bar might as well have been a stage given how it stretched down the far wall, and there was already a crush of people on the dance floor. The lady tourists dragged their significant others off in that direction, while the men cast longing glances at the bar. I stepped out behind them, lingering awkwardly in front of the elevator for a moment as I took everything in. Lambda-154 was right, I admitted to myself. I had just as much chance of finding somebody here as I did at a club.

I took a few more tentative steps in, so that I was actually on the carpet instead of the tile, and forced myself to take a good glance around. She had also said that I would have my pick of the lot and while a part of me was still plagued with self-doubt —

I wanted that one.

I froze when my eyes caught on him. I think I forgot to breath too, but that wasn't really important at the moment, because right then I just wanted so hard my teeth ached. It was a little scary; I didn't know the man from Adam, but he was big and he wasn't even manifested but I could already feel his shards shimmering just out of this dimension like a heat wave in the distance and — and —

And he was looking right back at me. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, as he lazily eyed me up from where he was lounging against a balcony above the bar. I had the primal impression of a predator licking its chops. I was pretty sure that in any other situation, that would have sent me running for the hills but I... I wanted. I wanted him, I wanted to feel those fragments searing across my own, I wanted...

He left the balcony, and I immediately snapped back to my senses, as though I had been doused with ice water.

What the hell was that?

I sucked in a quick breath and retreated back towards the elevator, leaning against a fat pillar and using the cold stone against my bare back as an anchor as I tried to get my thoughts in order. That... that had probably been a Pure Fighter, I rationalized. Apparently the attraction wasn't some bullshit gimmick, like the name thing. Okay. Okay. That was probably a good thing. If I had felt all that, then he had to at least have gotten a little of the same from me, right? Right.

"Miss?"

I snapped out of my little pep-talk and stared at the suited man attempting to get my attention. He was nondescript but projected an air of quiet purpose. I straightened up and smoothed down the front of my dress self-consciously.

"Yes?" I asked, forcing more calm and control into my voice than I was really feeling.

"One of our VIP guests upstairs would like to meet you," he said, and gestured towards a curtained hall directly behind the pillar I had been using to support myself. "If you would permit him the honor...?"

I stared at him for a long moment, before nodding slowly and finally stepping away from the pillar. I folded my hands in front of me as I followed him back towards another elevator to keep myself from fidgeting with my dress or my hair as I watched the numbers climb higher. This was way more success than I had expected, and I was left feeling a bit adrift and confused in the wake of it. I knew — what to do, I wasn't stupid, Aleph usually gave me play-by-plays about his various conquests, whether I wanted to hear it or not. But theoretical knowledge and practical experience were two very, very different things.

The attendant stepped out of the elevator and led me to another door, before giving a short bow and walking away briskly before I even had the chance to thank him. Or at least, try to think about thanking him; The aggressive hum of those fragments had started back up again almost as soon as the elevator doors had slid open, and I was finding it hard to focus on anything other than keeping my own fragments from synching up with his wavelength. Fighter Carriers transferred information and energy much more efficiently if there was a physical connection, hence why there wasn't more of a crackdown in regards to keeping them from fighting each other.

Also, it was pretty rude to do that without permission, even if you were pretty sure that was what they wanted.

I took one last breath to steady myself and reached up to knock. The door slid open as soon as I touched it, dragging cold marble against the back of my knuckles and leaving me standing there like a deer caught in the headlights. Or maybe a cow in a tractor beam, like those pre-colonization tabloid stories, because once my eyes caught his again I ended up stepping inside without even thinking about it. I kept walking even after the door slid shut behind me, feeling that strange, twisting heat worm its way back under my skin.

He was sprawled back against a leather couch, his arms slung over the back, and the first thing I really noticed was that what I had taken from a distance to be a shirt was actually a series tattoos: long, serpentine dragons twisting down from his shoulders to wrap around his arms, curling down from his neck to slide down a broad, hard chest and hug a rib-cage wrapped in pure muscle, their tails tapering off just shy of the v-lines curving up out of his low-slung pants. I was not complaining at all, but I suddenly felt decidedly overdressed, in all sorts of ways. I reached up to tuck a loose curl behind my ear in a nervous tick and nearly jumped when his eyes snapped to the side, practically burning.

Oh, I realized belatedly, as he rose up and closed the distance between us in a few long strides. He hadn't seen the dress from the back until then.

Lambda-154 was right about everything, ever, period, I decided once he was in front of me, one large hand curving over the bared small of my back. But she was especially right about the heels; he was even taller than I was, and they closed enough of the gap that I only had to tilt my head up a little for him to dip down and seal his mouth over mine.

I thought I might have some familiar ground to stand on, given that Aleph and i had at least done that much together, but my Fighter — I was pretty sure he was a Warrior Carrier, but I was too damn caught up in the rush to really know for sure — seemed to take a scorched-earth policy in sharp contrast to Alephs playful give-and-take. My hands slipped up to curl against his biceps, for balance. Mostly balance. Well, partly balance. They were also really, really nice biceps — rock firm.

I was more concerned with his mouth at the moment, at the demanding drag of a hot tongue and the dizzying drag of calloused fingers against my back. I still did my best to keep up, dropping in a nibble and making a few fruitless grabs for dominance here and there. I didn't have much success but again, no complaints. Absolutely none. When he finally let up and moved down to my neck, pulling me closer still, only one in every three breathy little gasps were because I needed air.

My brain felt like putty, and we hadn't even hit the main event yet. Aleph was either going to be unspeakably proud or impossibly jealous.

Perhaps intuiting that my thoughts had drifted towards another man — or perhaps because I had taken advantage of the new position and began mouthing at the sensitive skin beneath his ear — my current partner let out a sound remarkable close to a growl against my neck and wrapped a thick arm around my thighs, heaving me up with an ease that was utterly, primally appealing. The thigh-slit allowed me to hook my legs over his hips and he slid a rough palm up the length of one, giving my ass a squeeze before depositing me on the couch and pinning me there, capturing my mouth once more and reasserting his claim.

I slid my hands back down over his chest, choking off a moan when his hand slid from my ass to the juncture of my legs, rubbing against the thin fabric of my panties. They weren't exactly my normal style, half black lace and thin enough that I had already soaked straight through them. I felt his lips curve smugly against mine when he noticed that, and I nipped at his lower lip to remind him that me being wet and the little hitching jerks my hips made when he rubbed his thumb against my covered clit were not good enough excuses to stop kissing me.

He obligingly continued, albeit at a slower, searingly languid pace as he tugged the small scrap of fabric to one side to touch me directly. I let out a gasping whine and bucked against his hand as he wormed one thick finger into me. I heard him hiss through his teeth when I clamped down and rocked against the digit, and his fragments practically vibrated in anticipation. I still held out though, instead pressing my nails against the skin of his back to keep me grounded. Not yet, I told myself firmly, through the fog of more and please and — oh God, I was actually saying that out loud, wasn't I?

"Yes," he rumbled against my jaw, and then worked in a second finger.

I went limp against the leather of the couch, keening breathlessly. His hand was curved so that each thrust and stretch dragged the side of his finger against my clit, and if he kept up that pace I was either going to go insane or come like a freight train, I was pretty sure. He sped up, stretching his fingers a little, and I realized I had probably said that out loud too. And then I hit that peak and buried my face against his neck, clutching at his shoulder blades for dear life. I could feel my fragments trembling, struggling desperately against the last shreds of my self-control.

Those tenuous little threads nearly snapped when he pulled out his fingers. When he unbuckled his belt, impatiently shoved down his pants and replaced those fingers with something thicker, hotter, and longer, I was utterly undone.

I practically bloomed against him, my fragments snapping onto his wavelength and mingling with his, desperate and as eager as a daisy opening up to the sun. He was so damn big — physically and otherwise — that it was actually a decent metaphor; he practically oozed power and data, caging in my fragments and hiking up one of my knees over his elbow as he began to move in small, slow jerks. I was still reeling from that first orgasm, spasming around him every now and again, still tender and sensitive, but I worked hard to gain back some measure of control over my fragments.

Obviously, I couldn't overpower him — I wasn't sure that was a thing any Architect could even do, with a Fighter of his caliber at least — so I spread them out around his, forming a thin, mesh-like net of fragments as I synchronized with him. I nearly lost my ragged patchwork concentration when he punctuated a thrust with a scrape of teeth against my throat, but somehow managed to finish the configuration.

I angled my hip up to meet his and let my head fall back, eyes glossing over as I looked past the flesh, the bone, the slick friction where we were connected, as I reached out and connected our Carriers. The data-feedback nearly made me lose it again and he went dangerously, unfairly still above me as he too turned his attention outwards, inspecting my fragments in detail. One of his defensive functions flared up, experimentally, and I reigned it back in with as much force as I could spare without getting swept away by the rest of him.

He looked down at me, something flickering in his eyes — too fast for me to interpret it, even as connected as we were — and then he levered a hand under my back and rolled us both upright, leaving me straddling him. For a beat I was motionless, out of pure surprise, but a pointed roll of his hips knocked me out of my momentary stupor and I took the offer for what it was. It was a little difficult, finding purchase for my knees against the leather, but he wrapped his hands around my thighs to keep me steady and I was able to work my way into a decent pace. It was easier for me, as I recovered a little from my first orgasm, but it wasn't long before he was thrusting up into me with a wild fervor, his grip on my legs almost bruising.

One of my hands crept up, lacing into his hair as he crushed me down against him, shuddering as he flooded me with his seed. I was nearly knocked flat by the feedback from his fragments then, but I was slowly adjusting. I was comfortable enough by that point to do a little experimenting. I gently prodded at that defensive function and my eyes widened as I felt his dick — which had, at that point, been beginning to soften — swell back to its former hardness. He sucked in a sharp breath next to my ear and I was unceremoniously tumbled back against the couch again as he began plowing into me.

That set the pace for the next — I don't even know how long. I lost a little time somewhere after my third orgasm, and when I came back to my senses I was on my stomach and he was still rutting into me, like a beast.

I'm pretty sure we might have kept on like that for even longer, except at that point the door slid open and I heard a woman speak up.

"Hey, Boss we — oh, fuck." There was the unmistakable sound of a hand meeting skin, either over her eyes or across her forehead. "...hate to bother you, but it's important."

He grunted in displeasure — or maybe just pleasure, since I felt him finish off inside me again — and sat up, leaving me to collapse against the leather. My hair was a mess, just as Aleph had predicted, and I had no idea where most of the pins had gone. "Go find Lee," he instructed the woman, as I tried to remember how to breathe normally again now that air wasn't being driven out of my lungs in time with merciless thrusts. "I'll meet you in the office."

I heard the door slide shut once more and he finally pulled out again, sending a violent shudder through my body as our fragments finally disengaged. I felt absolutely bloated with power, practically drunk on the sheer number of functions now available to me. I was also feeling utterly exhausted and — I think the closest word available was 'sated'. I felt ruined and glorified and amazing.

"You're welcome," he said, running a hand up the curve of my spine as he stood.

I really had to work on my brain-to-mouth filter if I was going to keep doing thing like this. That was probably Aleph's fault — the thing about Collaboration between Planners, Thinkers and Architects both, was that it didn't have to be physical but it was deep and pervasive enough that any type of privacy was utterly obliterated. My thoughts were his, his eyes were mine, and so on. So, perhaps it was understandable that he had never mentioned my tendency to babble during moments of intimacy. I was still going to blame him, though.

"I'll be back, eventually," he told me, and I heard some rustling before he pulled his pants back up and rebuckled his belt. "Stay as long as you like."

There was a certain undertone to that — a crude promise, a dark humor, a predatory expectation — but all I managed was a sleepy noise of assent as he left.

Not long after that, the door slid back open, and I wasn't sure if I was relieved or crushingly disappointed when I cracked open an eye and saw that it was only Bitch.

"She says it's time to go," Bitch grunted, heaving a large black bag off of her shoulder and opening it up. She pulled out what looked like a squeeze-bottle and a stack of towels, and in that moment I could have kissed her. Or Lambda-154. My dress had been rucked up to basically my ribs, so it was rumpled to hell and back but it was more or less free of the mess spattering my thighs and the couch. I had no earthly idea what had happened to my panties, but they were gone now. Bitch helped me peel myself off of the couch and clean myself up, using the gentle, brisk motions she usually reserved for her dogs.

When I was as clean and dry as I was going to get, she let me use her as a crutch, one arm slung over her shoulder as I levered myself to my feet. I took one step and nearly face-planted.

"Shoes off," Bitch suggested.

"Shoes off," I agreed, finally toeing out of the heels. I tried to hide how I winced at the way that tugged at the thoroughly abused muscles in my thighs and abdomen. I was unsuccessful and Bitch hauled me up, apparently more than capable of hefting my deadweight to speed things along.

We made our way down to the ground floor without being stopped by anybody, keeping away from the other patrons and the entire lounge floor. Instead of going back out the way we first came in we took a different turn, going down a short hallway for the staff and ducking out a door that opened into an alley, empty except for one very familiar dog.

"Hi, Angelica," I called out, even as Bitch activated her basic function and her dog began to grow and warp until it was a massive, monstrous creature only vaguely recognizable as the puppy she had first brought back with her a week after joining our crew. Bitch helped me up before she climbed on and then we were gone, darting down the alley and onto a deserted backstreet. She wasn't much of a conversationalist normally and seemed more focused on remembering whatever directions Lambda-154 had given her, so I took the opportunity to lean back against her and rest my eyes a little.

It was impossible to fall asleep while riding a giant dog — heaven knows Aleph had tried, time and again — but I felt a little better when we finally stopped in front of a slightly rundown warehouse.

We were the last to arrive, and Aleph stepped forward to help me down. He had lost his jacket at some point and his shirt was untucked, with half the buttons in the wrong holes and half left completely undone. There was a mess of bruises and hickeys on his neck, and he was radiating a pulsing smugness that tickled the edges of my over-stimulated fragments.

"What happened to you?" I asked, fighting off a yawn as I leaned heavily against him.

He didn't complain for once, curling his arms around my waist to help me shuffle inside. "Size-shifting twins," he said with faux-modesty. "Not a big deal — well, except when they were. But more importantly," he diverted me as Brian and Bitch heaved the heavy doors behind us. "What the hell happened to you?" His eyebrows furrowed. "And where's your other shoe?"

"What?" I blinked and looked at the fingers I had hooked into the ankle-straps of my heels. Sure enough, one was missing. "Damn it. I must have dropped it somewhere on the way out."

"You pulled a Cinderella on Lung?" Lambda-154 cut in as we hobbled over, looking honestly impressed for once.

"Lung?!" Aleph echoed, looking either delighted or jealous. Maybe both, knowing him.

"Who's this?" I asked, more concerned about the small brunette next to our Thinker friend than the fact that I had apparently pulled a runner on an intergalactic crime lord. For the moment, at least.

"Uh," Lambda-154 grimaced. "Okay, I know this is going to sound bad, but we need to take her with us. Her name is Dinah, and — "

"Ninety-eight point three three repeating chance that I'll be assigned to breed with Kappa-011 if you leave me behind," the girl said, and I sucked in a breath. She was young, which meant she had to be newly manifested, but to have that sort of precise precognition... It was rare, and powerful. And given what we had dug up on Kappa-011, 'rare and powerful' was definitely to his taste, and he didn't seem to mind if his partners were young.

I bit my lip, torn.

"Come on, Taf," Aisha wheedled, throwing an arm around me and Aleph. "We're already going off the grid and flipping the PRT the bird; what's one more crime for a good cause?"

Dinah worried her lower lip, staring up at me pleadingly. "Ninety-five point seven two nine nine percent chance I'll be dead within four years if you leave me behind," she said, and then winced and staggered a little. I knew firsthand just how terrible it felt to push your major function just after initially manifesting and sighed, reluctantly making my choice.

"...okay," I said. "She can come. When are we leaving?"

"Now!" Lambda-154 chirped, beaming at me.

"...if you weren't the best damn navigator we've ever had, I swear to God," I started, before shaking my head and cutting myself off. "Whatever. Fine. Get clear so we can do this, then."

She didn't need to be told twice, ushering Dinah off towards one of the walls, and the rest of the crew already knew the drill. I leaned into Aleph, sighing, and reached out for his familiar cluster of fragments. He had gained quite a few in the time we were apart, but then again, so had I. He shifted his grip on me, drawing me close and beginning to rub firm, soothing circles low on my back. And then he reached back.

If I bloomed like a daisy, eager and open, then Aleph was a rose. He loosened slowly but never fully, an inviting slide of satin-softness that tantalized and drew me in as our fragments mingled and connected. Our Collaboration flared to life as our conjoined Carrier congealed around us in a sudden explosion of iridescence and crystalline forms.

The resulting ship was bigger than any we had ever formed, from what we could feel, and there was a definite well of power that we had never had at our disposal before. We would definitely be able to get out of the system, maybe even a couple over before we got tired enough to need to rest. The control deck even looked more sophisticated than usual from what we could see from where we were suspended in the core, and I could feel Aleph practically purring with vanity, felt the skin of my neck beneath his cheek, felt him sigh asI rubbed away at where I could feel stinging scratch-marks and his hands kept working, easing the ache away from my hips little by little.

"Fucking wrecked you," one of us murmured, or thought, or meant to say.

"It was awesome," one of us commented, or answered.

I got flashes of blonde women, practically mirror images of each other, twining around him, but was distracted by the familiar sensation of being boarded. Aisha let out a low, impressed whistle as she, Brian and Bitch hauled in our trunks and provisions.

"Hot damn," she said. "Hey Lambda-154, get in here, you gotta check out the new digs!"

"You know," our navigator said thoughtfully as she got Dinah situated, "since we're going off the grid, we don't need to use PRT designations any more."

"You want to go back to Sarah then?" Brian asked.

"I hated being Sarah," she said, a cold look flitting through her eyes. "You can call me..." She thought for a moment. "Call me 'Lisa'."

"Well, being Jean-Paul blew chunks," Aleph cut in, nuzzling against my collarbone. "So I'm going with Alec."

I was fine with going back to Taylor, so I stayed quiet. The warehouse roof slid open with an agonizing creak that killed any more conversation, and all too soon there was nothing but the night air between us and freedom. Aleph — Alec now — and I took the opportunity to connect with our crew. Lisa was first, plugging in with a flurry of calculations and data that was never anything short of dazzling. Next came Bitch, and spikes and protective armored plates sprouted over the ship, leaving only a thin strip open for the control deck. Last were Grue and Imp, kept on a shallow connection just in case we needed to go into stealth mode.

We were ready.

Destination? We asked out to Lisa.

She sent back to coordinates and flight-plan to a large asteroid a couple systems over called 'Somer's Rock'.

Agreement, was our verdict, after a split second of cross-crew collaboration.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand," said Alec.

So we did.


* * *

The inspiration for this is one part Outlaw Star, one part Tenchi Muyo, a dash of canon, and a pinch of Simoun, shaken up with a nice dollop of the ridiculous, gorgeous space opera aesthetic still stuck in my head from watching Jupiter Ascending. And garnished with porn, because this site is a cancer against morality and self-restraint. This is either 1/? or a standalone oneshot. Probably the latter, given that somehow sprawled out into more or less 8,000 words

Sensible Ears

(Автор: Sol Mark-1)

Unknown location, Brockton Bay.

Taylor Hebert was having a good day, if she ignored all of her creepy fans, and that man that was always pestering her, Sabah told her experience with her stalker, Taylor suspected that it was the same man, she managed to scare off the other but he always tries to "find" her by accident, she could just kill him, but she already promised Amy, and Victoria that she would not kill more people, she was really happy with the friendships (some with benefits.) she had.

If somebody told her she would be the target of lust from a lot people, she would have laughed, she must thank Luna for her Exaltation, and rescuing her from....that, the only bad thing was that she have white rabbits ears, but the good thing is that everyone else could not see the ears, maybe her Exaltation gave her a stranger effect.

Then her ears twitched, when she heard some footsteps nearing to her, she knew who walked with that rythm, Taylor smiled, and some hands covered her eyes.

"Guess who?, Taylor." the voice spoke in a playfull tone.

"Mmm... by the softness of your hands, and your voice, mmm... Sabah?"

"I knew you would get at the first try, Taylor." Sabah said with a smile on her face, then Sabah got an idea, and gently she began to touch Taylor ears.

"Sabah what are you doi — aah, Sabah sto — -aah"

"Taylor, I know you love this."

"Ok you convinced me, lets go to a more private place, Sabah"

Taylor and Sabah went to a more private place, but what they did not noticed, is that Aisha was hiden, and was taking notes about Taylor specially the ears.

Worm AU/Exalted Crossover.

On A Lonely String

(Автор: NaughtyBanette)

My Sasori-tinker idea


* * *

If you knew you were psychopath, what would you do?

Realistically, I'm sure a lot of people would seek help. Turn themselves in to the authorities, for the safety of those around them. The problem is, I don't care about those around me. I am, at my core, a selfish individual, and I enjoy my life and freedom too much to submit myself to the law, or the whims of a therapist.

When I was younger, when I was just beginning to hear the term tossed about in whispers among my family and their friends, I made a different decision. Wondering what the words meant, I researched the condition. What I found, disturbingly, fit me almost perfectly.

Antisocial behavior, diminished empathy, a lack of remorse. All of these, I felt, and continue to feel, are good qualities. There are times I feel I see the world with more clarity than those around me, for exactly those reasons. But I was an admittedly bright child and knew immediately that such words carried a stigma I'd never be rid of, should my own little monstrous nature come to light.

So instead I researched all I could in order to construct a mask. A web of lies to hide my true nature, to blend among the normal children and succeed at life. I learned when to smile, when to laugh, and when to cry. I went along with activities I didn't quite understand. Sleepovers, sporting events, trips to the mall where no one purchased anything meaningful. I was merely a puppet, dancing for the entertainment and comfort of others.

I learned to clamp down on my own desires. When I was eight I found a dog, dead at the side of the road. It was fascinating, in a morbid sort of way. The desire to experiment with it, to inspect the creature, to learn more about it, was strong. Almost strong enough to make me forget myself, to find a stick to prod it with. I pushed those thoughts aside, and opted instead to study anatomy in my spare time.

When I was picked on at school, a perfectly average amount of teasing by most standards, I resisted the urge to fight back. I could, it would be appropriate for a boy to respond with violence, but I doubted my ability to keep it to 'angry child' levels. I feared my revenge would be cruel and calculated, too cold for a normal child to perpetrate.

In the end I wound up with a whole persona that fit me so well it was sometimes hard for myself to know where it ended and I began. The simplest lies, after all, were partly true, so even public 'me' was a dry, sarcastic, antisocial person. Boring enough for people to pass me by, yet not so obviously boring as to draw attention. A veritable castle of little lies, all centered around a single foundation.

Madison Clemens.

We first met when I moved into Brockton Bay at the age of five. She was my next door neighbor, and so excited to have another child her age to play with that I had absolutely no say in becoming her best friend.

My earliest memories of her involve bandaids on her knees, and lopsided pigtails. She was a boundless font of energy, always in motion on some larger than life adventure. The way she spoke, the way she acted, a simple trip to the corner store was an epic quest, requiring both a stern will and unfailing determination. Her head was so often up in the clouds that I often wondered how much of reality passed beneath her, unnoticed entirely.

She was never cruel, at least back then, but often careless. Her words had meanings that took me years to decode, often meaning completely different things than what a regular person would gather. She could say the nicest things with such cruelty, or brighten a stranger's day with an insult, and leave the conversation oblivious to the outcome.

In the end, she became my foundation. The keystone lie that held up all of the others.

I care about Madison Clemens.

That lie I've told myself so often that I often believe it to be true. She matters to me, because she matters to me, a circular argument that has no end or beginning. It's the one lie that I am confident could beat the best lie detectors in the world, and the thing that keeps me grounded.

Her friendship is important to me on a level that I doubt anyone else would ever understand. Not having her in my life, filling that role of 'best friend' terrifies me to the very core. In a sense, she has become my morality chain. Whenever I come across an option in daily life that I've never considered a plan for, I simply recall rule #1. I must not damage my friendship with Madison.

It is, for this reason, that I peering out of my front door at 9pm on a Wednesday. "You want to do what?" I mumble, staring into the eyes of my best friend. She gives a huff, stomping he foot again and crossing her arms. She's 'explained' herself a few times now, not that it makes any sense to me, but I'm hoping that forcing her to repeat herself makes her explanation make sense eventually.

"Hello~! Are you in there Sam?" She laughs, leaning forwards. "You." She points. "Me. Movie." She explains slowly. "Everyone else is busy. I've got your ticket already, so you've got to go."

"Which movie?" I narrow my eyes, finally relenting a little. If everyone else really doesn't want to go—

"Saw." She grins widely. "That new horror movie. I hear it's supposed to be wicked scary."

I make a face at that. "Saw isn't a horror movie. It's a bunch of hacks trying to use senseless gore to get a rise out of people. There's nothing scary about that." Save, perhaps, that there are documented cases of monsters out there that pull crap like that for fun.

She makes that noise I'm oh so familiar with, when I've said or done something wrong but rather than pointing out what she decides instead to 'correct' me physically. Stepping forwards, she reaches over my shoulder to grab the hood of my sweatshirt, pulling it up and over my messy red hair. Without a single backwards look, she turns and steps forwards, dragging me along behind her. "Come on, if it's really that bad you can spend the entire time making dumb jokes about it."

She knows me too well. "You know, this right here? I'm fairly certain this qualifies as an abusive relationship."

"I know." She shrugs, letting go once we hit the end of the driveway. "You're lucky I like you enough to put up with it."


* * *

"I'm glad it's just us for once." Madison mentions as we enter a convenience store near the theater. I am too, but probably for different reasons. Myself included, she has rather poor taste in friends.

Emma is useful, at least. Her looks, her money and her reputation are all a tremendous boon in navigating the social mire that is Winslow high. Her personality leaves a lot to be desired, but she is a teenage girl. Lately she's been on some kind of power trip, firmly establishing herself as 'queen bitch'. It's a pain, and if not for my friend's help I'd probably be on the outs for missing the occasional social cue.

Sophia... Well, we have an unspoken truce, at best. I think we could both tell on sight that something was off about the other. Two puppets recognizing the strings and masks of the other, opting not to say anything to keep the production going. She is a bit of a disappointment though, rather than my own carefully crafted disguise, she seems to embrace her own insanity, reveling in the pain and violence she causes.

There's times I envy her. Times where I sorely wish I could inflict that kind of violence on the inconveniences in my life. I've slipped occasionally, done reckless things in as careful and meticulous ways as possible.

Madison had a boyfriend once, a few months ago. She'd told me how he pressured her for sex, when she wasn't sure she was ready. How he hit her when she had said no. I'd played my role as her best friend, comforting her with partially rehearsed words. I did not like the idea of anyone hurting my friend, but what had happened next was what bothered me.

Her boyfriend, and I don't even remember his name now amusingly enough, had grown jealous of our alleged relationship. He'd demanded she stop seeing me, and struck her again when she refused.

Say what you will about the scum that walk the halls of Winslow, you get what you pay for from them. Five hundred dollars to a trio of 'student's and the boy spent a month in the hospital. I was actually disappointed at that. I'd deliberately chosen those thugs on the hopes that they'd go overboard.

Regardless, Madison was happily away from that relationship, and we remained close friends. "It is nice, just hanging out again." I reply after a lull, noting how she continues to grip my hand, pulling me over to the snack aisle. Sneaking candy and soda into the theater is one of our traditions, one of the few outright 'bad' things Madison does on a regular basis.

"'Hanging out', huh?" She turns, giving me a knowing smile. What, exactly, she 'knows' is lost to me. "I was thinking... If everything goes well tonight, maybe we could-"

Her words are lost to me as a dull roar fills the street outside. The store, busy but not crowded, turns as one to look at the floodlights pouring in from the windows. Some kind of metal monstrosity of a vehicle, like a tank mixed with a train mixed with a school bus, pulls up out front of the store.

"Madison, get on the-" There's a muffled boom as the abomination fires its main gun through the window. I've only a moment to watch in dull shock as the shell detonates.


* * *

I pull myself to my hands and knees, vomiting uncontrollably at the sight of my former friend. Why? I shouldn't care. I should be immune to the gore and the blood. I've seen pictures before without flinching, walked through emergency rooms with only casual interest. Why am I freaking out like this?

Why, am I wasting time?

I can save her. I know how. I don't know how I know, but I can and I know it. Laying here, pretending to be human serves no one. I tear my eyes away from the pulped arm and burned flesh. I blink and shudder at the bits of metal piercing her torso and neck. She's dead, on every level but the technical, and that won't last to a hospital. Even if Panacea were magically next door, she'd likely die.

I need to stabilize her, protect her brain and heart. Those are the only two organs that matter, the brain and the heart. There's a fire inside of me, a warmth I've never felt before, powers maybe? Am I a cape now? Is that where this information is coming from?

Anything is better than losing Madison. I don't know how to pretend to grieve. I don't want to start over. Everything hinges on her, I cannot lose her.

I step over her, nearly stumbling over another body. A quick glance shows me the girl will be fine, just a few burns and a concussion. I wish she'd stop sobbing and get out of the way, she's wasting my time.

Cleaning supplies, those will have the chemicals I need. I quickly drop to my knees and start rummaging through them. A hand grips my ankle, and I turn my cold gaze upon the store owner. He's hurt badly, quite likely he won't survive until paramedics arrive. A bit of first aid would stabilize him though.

"P-please." He gurgles, squeezing hard on my ankle. A kick to the face makes him let go.

I open a coke and pour it out, replacing the contents with a precise mixture of chemicals. Holding it away from my face, I feel it heat up and let off a toxic vapor. Once it stops fizzing, I look around for the next thing I need.

Aluminum foil, torn into pieces and shoved in the bottle. The flakes blacken immediately, pulling out the chemicals I don't need into a solid state. Finished, I pull one of my own socks off, dousing it in the mixture. Like chloroform, I hold it against Madison's mouth and nose, encouraging her to breathe deeply. It will slow the bloodflow to her brain, preserving it until I can get her somewhere safe to operate.

She'll wake with a killer hangover, but at least she'll be awake.


* * *

Days.

It takes me days.

For the first two I'm terrified that someone noticed me piggybacking a mostly dead girl back home, but apparently no one cares in Brockton Bay. That collective apathy did me wonders.

A modified aquarium from my basement serves as the life support system, running oxygen to her brain and keeping her heart healthy in a broth of my own creation. It's crude, but I can't build anything better at the moment.

The rest of her body is propped up at the side of the room. It should bother me more, but for now it's just like a piece of furniture. "H-hey mom... Dad... It's me." I frown at the computer screen in front of me, using a voice synthesizer to try and get Madison's voice right. It's been days, and people are going to start asking questions. It's a small miracle no one's busted in here yet, due in small part to me preserving Madison's corpse well.

What I need is a distraction. A reason for Madison to disappear for a week or two, then reappear without too many questions asked. If the PRT or Police get involved, hiding what I've done will be next to impossible.

What I need, is a staged kidnapping. The Merchants will do as stooges, since this is all their fault anyways. Just something to convince the parents to be patient. All I need is time.


* * *

"Madison?" I look across at the dummy in front of me. It looks almost like a store mannequin, but more articulated. There's enough detail in just the face and torso to be considered a work of art by some. I can do better, but I need to work quickly. "Can you hear me?"

I need to make sure the wiring is properly in place. The containment unit, which houses all of her important organs, is a bulky thing on the table behind us. It's powered by some kind of energy drawn from her heart, like a battery, which runs through her brain and into the dummy. Like some kind of prosthetic body.

Right now I'm testing the audio interface, ensuring she can hear and speak. It's been five days, she must be terrified. "S-Sam?" Her voice crackles to life, sounding almost mechanical. "Where are you? Why can't I see? Why do I sound autotuned?"

"There was an accident. Do you remember?" I move over to inspect the connections, making sure everything is lit up and in working order. Maybe I can hook up the visual segment next?

"We were on a date." I give the doll a curious look at that, was it really? "Then... Oh god. I died."

"Only for a moment." I insist firmly. "You're alive now. I saved you, and I'm going to give you back a proper life."

"Where am I?"

"You're in a life support system right now. You'll need it, to stay alive. Can you see me?" I change the subject, flipping on the visual segment of the doll.

"I... Yes. It's blurry, and the colors are off though. It's like looking at a bad webcam." She replies, panic still in her voice. "Where am I Sam?"

I cringe, taking a deep breath and grabbing the doll's torso. "Don't freak out, please. I'll fix you, Madison, I promise." Turning the doll around, I let her look at the cylindrical object that holds her brain and heart. I have to turn the audio down, to make sure her screaming doesn't wake my parents.


* * *

Folding space.

I don't know where that concept fits into my 'tinker specialty', but it's there. The right lines, the right metals, the right amount of power and 'boom', pocket dimension.

It's a fascinating enough concept that I spend almost a day poking at it, trying to figure out not only the 'how', but where it would be useful. I let Madison have her freak out, getting it out of her system. I try to be supportive, but that sort of emotional thing is a little out of my depth.

The most obvious use is storage, placing one object inside of another. Holding all of my tools in a simple belt, holding more things inside of Madison's new body, even hiding away my workshop when I'm not using it. The sheer utility of it is staggering.

The major breakthrough comes when I realize that things inside of a pocket space can influence things outside of one, if the space is designed properly. A bit more tinkering allows me to seal the entirety of Madison's containment unit into a small golden disk, no larger than a silver dollar. Simply placing that inside of a reinforced segment of a puppet is much easier than trying to haul around the entire thing.


* * *

I watch as the skeletal form of Madison's new body carefully reaches out and attempts to grasp the pencil in front of her. Part of it is improving the interface, working on improving the finesse and responsiveness of each join. The other part is practice on her end, as the puppet isn't the same as her old body, despite what we'd both wish.

"Damn it." Her voice sounds better now, at least. We'd spent hours working out the kinks once she calmed down, perfecting the tone and pitch.

"Keep practicing, you've already improved quite a bit." Her gross motions were fine, she could walk, run, and even cartwheel across the basement with ease. Thanks, in part, to some of the simpler improvements on her new body. I had ideas, so many ideas. Hidden compartments, weapon emplacements, ideas to reinforce the structure and improve the strength of each joint.

I could make her body be able to fight on par with many of the super villains of the Bay, if I wanted to. If she wanted to, rather. I had no interest in drawing more attention to myself. If I got away with what I was doing, I would be content to just tinker in my workshop for the rest of my natural life.

Or unnatural life, as the case may be.

Personally, I think the only reason Madison was going along with this was for the opportunity to escape from my basement. I'll admit, what I was doing was a necessary cruelty. That, combined with the looming idea that only I would be able to maintain her new body...

I was now a necessity in Madison's life, like it or not. I don't really trust myself with that much power over someone.

"Come dance with me." She calls, standing up and stepping away from the table. She still insists on wearing clothing, despite being made almost entirely of reinforced wood. Already I have plans in motion to make her look human again.

Turning in my chair, I gesture at the spare dummy across the room. That same warm power flows through me, and I visualize strings attaching to key locations. With tremendous focus the puppet steps forwards with a human-like grace, bowing and offering a hand to my friend. She giggles and accepts it, spinning into a fast swing dance.

Little things like this are a distraction, but a necessary one. I'm infinitely grateful that Madison's mind seems elastic enough to snap back from this trauma, though I doubt it's as easy as it seems. Inwardly, I wonder if she would leave me, given the chance. If she could survive without me, or get her original body back, would she think I was a monster?

I like to think she's smart enough to do so.


* * *

"Hold still or I'll turn off your motor functions." I snap, watching her face regain its perfect stillness. Applying the synthetic flesh and skin is a tricky business, doubly so when Madison insists on being awake and aware through the process.

Each artificial muscle is designed to contract when the skeleton moves, just for the sake of appearances. They provide nothing but cosmetic benefit, but in a world of Thinkers, they are a necessity. The 'flesh' is similar, simply a compound used to mimic the texture and feeling of a normal human body.

There's probably something intimate about sculpting prefect replicas of your friend's bare breasts, checking for texture and firmness. Once you've been up to your shoulder in her corpse, I can honestly say any sort of embarrassment goes right out the window.

"I still can't feel any of that." She complains, closing her eyes as I spray the fake skin over the finished product. It really is a work of art.

"I can set up a system that lets you know when you're being touched, and where, but actual tactile sensation could take a lot of work." I explain, not looking up.

"Hmm... I want you to do it anyways. What's the point of being alive if you can't enjoy it." She grumbles. "Oh, and taste. Taste too."

"You don't need to eat." I point out halfheartedly. I'm in control of her life, yet she's my boss in the end.

"Sure I do. People will notice if I don't." Point. I'll need to place a disposal unit in her chest cavity then. More wasted space. "I want to be fully functional. Don't tell me you can't do it, I know you can."

"Fine. It'll take a lot of work, and rigorous testing, but I'll do my best." I sigh, watching as her face lights up in an almost evil smile. It's the kind of smile she gives me when she tricks me into saying something I didn't mean to say. Usually it'd fill me with dread. Now?

Watching her face, which looks almost completely human save for some necessary touch-ups to her complexion, make that familiar expression fills me with pride. I've done it. I've given her back her body, and her life. I've technically revived the dead, and made her so much better.

I'm not out of the woods yet, of course, it'll be an ongoing thing. But for now?

"Alright, let's finish your make up, and you can go see your parents. They must be worried sick."

Eruption

(Автор: Mr_John)

Fuck!

I covered my head as best I could, futilely trying to protect my hair. The rain of juice continued, soaking into my clothes, the sound of liquid splashing across the tiles combining with the giggles and outright laughter. It only took seconds for the downpour to end, but in that time all of my clothes and a large part of my backpack were ruined. The empty carton dropped down and bounced off my head with a dull thunk, adding injury to insult. The giggles faded as my tormentors left the bathroom. I had to fight the insane urge to run after them, tackle one and just punch until my hands were red with blood.

It took a long couple of minutes before the rage subsided. These days, I was hiding from the trio more to avoid the slowly growing chance that I'd strangle one to death than to escape the taunts and pranks. After the locker, after the hour I spent in hell and the complete lack of vengeance that followed, something broke. I had lived an eternity in the filth and trash, every moment killing a little more of my faith in humanity. It wasn't enough. I was tough. I was stubborn. I was a mountain in the face of a temporary thunderstorm. I was going to survive the a trio, I was going to college, I was going to become an English teacher like mom, and no amount of bullying was going to stop me. What I hadn't realized was that people were, as a rule, disgusting animals.

Even a mountain wears away. As disgusting as the locker was, it didn't break me. That came after. That came from the uncaring nurses who would rather hit me with another dose of drugs than spend a minute to talk. That came from the fake sympathy handed out by the principal. That came from the look on my father's face when he realized that the school was paying him hush money for my injuries.

People were beasts. Looking out for themselves, uncaring for others except as tools and toys. There were exceptions. My father ground himself to the bone for his people at the docks— and what came of it? Upper management denied him funds, jobs, any hope at all. The people he worked until four in the morning for went to the gangs. My mother loved dad and I so much— and some asshole who couldn't look where he was driving took her from us.

With the realization came a choice. I could fall apart. I could die— suicide, or maybe go out with a gun and start killing Merchants until I was shot in return. I could become a comatose little girl, unable to handle the truth. Spend my time on a hospital bed, or inside a straitjacket. I could take vengeance for myself, beat Emma to death with my bare hands.

Of course, I wouldn't do any of these things. With the clarity that I gained came power, and not just the clear sight that came with the ability to see past the bullshit humans pasted over everything— laws, innate morality, the social contract.

As I reflected on the past, the ground rumbled faintly, barely enough to vibrate. My clothes began to steam, the juice evaporating. Little flashes of red seemed to flicker around my clenched hands, and I could barely repress the desire to explode.

The mountain could've worn away, crumbled into sand and mud. It could've succumbed to the storm, blowing away as salt in the wind. But it didn't.

I didn't.

Instead, I erupted.

I'm Halping

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

God Mode

Powers

Twins:Null/Zero(JailBroken)1

Twins: Two(JailBroken)2

Twins: Panacea

Twins: Echidna(JailBroken)3

Twins: Blasto

Twins: Cranial

Advantages:

Comic Book Pretty

Disadvantages:

Case 53[0]

Pint Sized

Wanted: S9

Wanted: Yangban

Wanted : Gesellschaft


* * *

1: Sharing powers between people does not reduce the power.

2 Not limited to doubling powers in strength.

3: Does not cause insanity, clones are fully controlled, clones stored in a pocket dimension.


* * *

The girl lays in the hospital bed, her chocolate hair covers her face. She twitches occasionally, swatting at imaginary foes.

I know it is being caused by sensory overload from the bug control ability, the human brain didn't evolve to handle that level of input. It will recover in time, the plasticity of the human mind is astounding. I also know the girl is named Taylor, but I can't remember why I know it.

That brings to mind another important question. Who am I? Compared to hospital bed, I'm only around the size of a large cat or medium sized dog. Twisting my head around, I see a large fluffy tail coated in white fur. The rest of my body is coated in kind.

So, I am not human looking at all, and my memory is full of holes. What a wonderful way to start the day.

The coldness of the floors is starting to agitate my paws, so I brace my hind-legs and try to jump onto the bed. With a soft plop, I land onto the thin sheets of that cover the girl. The sheets pull as turns her in sleep.

Crawling forward my paw touched her hand, and my perceptions unfolded as senses I had no clue existed forced themselves to the forefront of my mind.

Every cell of Taylor's body was mapped in my mind, each muscle, each bone, each neuron was known to me. Yet, inside of me a copy of genetic material was also forming. It started with but a single cell, splinting and divining. Growing and multiplying. As the first neuron formed, I tried to will the growth to stop, and luckily it heeded my command. The blob of biomass was already larger than my body, yet I hadn't changed in size at all. Where was the mass being stored?

I recognized the powers as the ones that Panacea and Echidna had. That was a powerful combination. How much more could I do?

A subtle glow was centered in Taylor's head. I mentally pulled on it, as suddenly I was able to sense nearby bugs. By general estimates it was only a few dozen feet, as the copied power was weakened. The bio-sense power, told me that Taylor was still alive. That was fucking stupid of me, it could of be the Fairy Queen's power and I could of accidentally killed the girl.

Activity in Taylor's Corona Pollentia was still being registered by the bio-sense.

Panic of suddenly being made aware of powers subsidized.

Despite being only awake for a few minutes I was extremely exhausted, and curled up on Taylor's flat chest.


* * *

A set of large breast made up the pillows I was laying on when I finally woke. The bio-mass that was created for the original clone was also missing.

Apparently my version of Panacea's power continues working while asleep.

Taylor started to stir, and was greeted by a pair of large mounds that she didn't have the day before.

"Hi, I'm Kyubey."


* * *

"Hi, I'm Kyubey."

Why did I say that? My voice is high-pitched and child-like. It is a result of this strange body or was I really that young before? Was I even human before?

A new clone had started growing the Elsewhere, as I woke.

From the bio-sensing, I could tell that the cantaloupe sized breasts aren't the only thing my power did while sleeping. She was a few inches taller, so the growth spurt she would of had in the coming year had already happened. Calves and abs were now well developed, along with several others muscles. Her waist tapered inward then slopped downward into wide hips. Taylor's curly hair had grown further, swaying against the mid of her back.

"What did you to my body!" screamed Taylor.

"I granted one of your wishes. You hated that you had no curves, and being a stick figure, did you not? So I helped."

I had hoped to be able to get us both out of this hospital unnoticed. Then I was going to try and steal the Undersiders out from Coil. Taylor's scream probably alerted the nurses.

Time for plan B. Play cute and dumb.

I curl up and pretend to be asleep,

The gnats and flies under my control were being pushed by away by an a person-sized object.

The window is closed, and I have no thumbs to open it. This must be how a cat feels. I don't have enough time to use the Panacea's power to make a glass cutter bug.

And, I was suddenly thrown off the bed as Taylor kicked me off. The landing on the floor surprisingly didn't hurt at all. But, unlike a cat, I landed on my sides instead of all fours.

A nurse with security guards on each of her sides.

"That perverted thing changed my body!"

More yelling.

"I'm not a thing, I'm Kyubey," as I said from my undefined position of laying on the floor.


* * *

Have you ever been carried out of a hospital in a pet carrier? I'm pretty sure even with large sections of my memories missing, that it was my first time.

I had tried to keep a fly on each of the PRT officers that meet the hospital security staff, and one on Taylor as she was also escorted out of the hospital. If she had any understanding of her powers at this point, her bug control would probably override mine.

Taylor was taken out of my range and to another section of the building, while I was carried into the holding cells.

Now I was waiting in my cell until someone came in for questioning. Newly awakened case 53, child-like behavior. One count of Assault with a parahuman ability, no prior record. I would likely get a probationary deal If I can keep the act going. The question is how well does Armsmaster lie detector works against an inhuman body.


* * *

The second Taylor clone had finished growing, but was still stored in the Elsewhere. I still haven't figured out where that was or how it was connected to me.

I had two flies sit on the hands of an analogue clock, that was in what I could only assume was an office about thirty feet behind the cell. From the positions of the hands it was near eight thirty. Given that there was light outside when I was brought in, and I've only been here about an hour; I can guess it is still early morning.

Well, since I couldn't do much at the moment, I moved one of the flies into the gaps of the cell. It landed on my furry ears, and then in the Elsewhere a copy of it started to generate. It took only a few seconds for the copy to complete, and a another copy started forming as soon as the first one was done. A second true fly then was controlled to land on me, as it and the first where duplicated at the same time. The first fly was then moved off. The copy of the first completed, but no new clones were being made of it.

From the quick little experiment, I've learned two rules on how my version of Echidna's power worked. I cannot create a new clone of something while the a clone of the organism is still being created. I do not need to maintain contact once the clone has started growing. I need to touch the target again to make a new clone, even if I already a copy stored in the Elsewhere.

I still don't know where the clones are being stored at, or how to get them out. But, that might be a good thing for now. Echidna's clones where highly insane and uncontrolled. That could easily be the case with mine as well. If that turned out to be true, I would need Panacea's power just to mindrape them into loyalty. A PRT holding cell would be a good place to test it, in case the clones were totally nutso, but said cell also has a camera pointed at me. Revealing that I am Nilbog plus, while containment foam dispensers are pointed at me doesn't seem to be a good idea.

It has been over an hour as clone!flies have been creating spare bio-mass for me, and I am starting to get really bored. Time to express said boredom as I start singing, "I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves and this is how it goes. I know a song that gets on everybody's nerves,l everybody's nerves and this is how it goes. I know—

"Hello, I'm Miss Militia. We have some questions for you," said the women with the American flag bandana mark.

"Hi, I'm Kyubey", I said as I tilted my head.

"What are your earliest memories?"

"I woke up in hospital room, that Taylor was in."

"Taylor, did you know the girl?"

"I know of her, but I never met her before"

"What did you know of Taylor."

"She had a trigger event when she was locked in a locker that was filled with vile waste by Sophia Hess, Emma Barnes, and Madison Clements."

She didn't even flinch as I mentioned Shadow Stalker's name.

"That is fairly serious claim, have you met these girls before?"

"No."

"It is possible you have a Thinker power, so we will look into it. But, back to more immediate matters. Can you undone what you did to her? If there is no lasting harm, the PRT is willing to show greater leniency."

"I can change her body back to one closer to how it was. I only wanted to help her. But, then she got all mad and started yelling.

Talking With The Bee

(Автор: CptTagon)

"Oh, that feels wonderful, Taylor," Lisa murmured as I massaged her shoulders. I swept her hair out of the way, and moved to her neck. Even after two months of dating, it still felt kind of weird to be touching another girl in this way. Obviously, nothing of the kind had happened with my mom, and Emma and I were both too young to have been interested in such things before she betrayed me. So there was still a sense of wonder in running my hands over Lisa's back, and feeling the muscles relax underneath her skin. This was the most daring thing we had done yet, with Lisa pushing me on.

Lisa groaned as I worked a knot out of the base of her left shoulder. I was feeling very limber, since she had already spent half an hour working me over, back, neck, limbs and all. The tease had left me feeling a bit hot underneath my non-existent skirt, with her fingers just dipping underneath the towel I had worn, and ghosting over my breasts. Now it was time for me to return the favor.

Over the next ten minutes, I worked my way down Lisa's back, until I arrived at her hips, and the towel that was covering her butt. Lisa moaned her appreciation. As I stared down at my girlfriend's

rump, I worked up my nerve. I'd already touched her down there, but we had both been clothed, and it was a lot more spontaneous then it was now.

"Taylor, if you don't feel comfortable-" Lisa raised her head to look at me from the corner of her eye.

"No, no, I'm fine. You did the same for me, so it's only right I do it too." Matching deeds to words, I started massaging Lisa's rear, though I kept my hands above the towel. After a few minutes, my hands drifted to her sides, and started working their way back up. As I reached her chest, I slipped my hands to her front, and palmed her breasts. Bigger than mine, but still on the smaller side.

"Oh, not much muscle there to relax, Tay. Still feels nice though." Encouraged by Lisa, I kept on playing with her breasts. With a thrill of delight, I noticed that her breathing was getting heavier. As I caught a nipple in between two fingers, she moaned, and flipped herself over. Her face was flushed, but mine was redder, since the movement had knocked the towel away, and for the first time I saw my girlfriend naked.

I already knew her body was better than mine, but seeing her in all her glory really emphasized it. Her lovely breasts, her lightly tanned skin, and an upside down triangle of blond hair pointing to her crotch were all a sight I had never seriously thought I would see. Seeing my eyes glance over her, Lisa smiled and stretched her arms, doing interesting things to her breasts.

"Like what you see? Got to say, I'm interested in you returning the favor." After Lisa had finished her massage of me, I had just slipped into a t-shirt and shorts, perfect for the September weather in Brockton Bay. Hesitating for a moment, I reached down and lifted my t-shirt up and dropped it at my feet. Hearing Lisa whistle, I looked back at her, frowning, but there wasn't any scorn on her face. Just a pleased look, as she looked me up and down.

"Well, it seems I lucked out on my girlfriend. Always did like the slender type." She stood up, stretched, and stalked over to me. Even as I took a step back, Lisa grabbed my shoulders and pulled my head down for a soul-searing kiss, with her tongue bursting into my mouth. My eyes fluttered as I stared down into Lisa's green eyes.

Finally, she pulled back, leaving me to try and catch my breath. We'd kissed before, but nothing like that. Wow! As I focused on Lisa, she moved forward, pushing me down to the chair behind us. Her grin was as big as when she got the upper hand on someone in a fight. As she started running her hands up and down my arms, I managed to blurt out an objection.

"Wai-, wait, you said you weren't able to have sex! Your power, it told you a bunch of nasty shit about me." Lisa moved her arms up around my neck, and rested her head on my shoulder.

"Well, there are two reasons for that. I've had four months to figure out all your little secrets, and accept them. Second, I'm horny and you're hot. Now kiss me back."

As I leaned in to give Lisa a distracted kiss, I was mentally reeling. Someone could see everything I'd thought and done, all the people I'd sacrificed and turned my back on, and still want me? Not just as a friend or teammate, but as a lover? It wasn't poss—

Sensing my thoughts, Lisa broke our kiss and smiled at me, while one arm worked its way up to rub against the back of my head.

"It is real, Taylor. I do love you, and I do accept what you've done. You need to stop only seeing the bad in you, and accept the good parts too. Your drive to help others, the way you care so much, those are all things I see and really like."

I could barely think, so I just grabbed Lisa in a hug, and held her close to me. Maybe she was right, and even if she wasn't, at least she still wanted to spend time with me. Lisa chuckled, and gave me a hug of her own.

"I do love you Taylor. Honest to God. But if we're not going to have sex, then I'd like to get my clothes back on. It's a bit chilly in here to be naked." As my face flushed again, Lisa hopped off my lap, and started grabbing her clothes from the pile at the foot of the bed, pausing to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. As I stood up to grab my shirt and underwear, I snuck a quick glance at Lisa as she wiggled into her panties. Soon, very soon, I'd be ready to go all the way with her.

God, I hoped it would be as nice as the stories said.

I Just Wanted To Know

(Автор: SamPardi)

He didn't have any particular reason for doing what he did. They'd all been standing around on the boat and he'd looked off the side. Most people, they would have mimed a shudder at how cold it must be and looked away. He didn't.

The water was there. Air cooling the top, and cold North Atlantic Currents cooling the bottom. Then he realized he'd forgotten what that meant. Temperature data, tidal patters, it all came easily. Felt? Not so much.

For some reason nobody ever took him seriously when he said that the only reason he'd walked into the freezing water of the bay was because he just wanted to know what it would feel like.

He wasn't sure why they didn't send him to the Asylum. Since he'd triggered he was now a member of the wards but he felt no more a part of their team than he did the baseball team at school. Then again, this wasn't baseball. The numbers didn't really seem to make sense. Maybe that was why he never told them that his biokinesis enhanced his senses as well. It just seemed like more curse to him, but at least a more personal one this time.

Yesterday the numbers made even less sense than usual. All other considerations aside, they should have over-powered the Undersiders easily. They were something he couldn't make sense of in his numbers, even after they'd discussed what happened. Perhaps they had failed for the same reason he wasn't really part of the team? It seemed related in his mind.

As he walked past a store something caught his eye. It was a black long coat with a hood and a high collar, in a few areas it allowed the intricately patterned grey and black lining show on purpose. It reminded him of a witch for whatever reason. Just like jumping into the water he wasn't completely aware of the decision being made before he was into the store. The coat came first, but it was hardly the last. Underwear, stockings, boots, the much shorter under-dress, it all needed to be perfect. If he got any strange looks during this process they were entirely lost on him.

When he was finally satisfied with his selection he marched straight to the changing booths and entered the first opening he saw. Striping was merely a mechanical process, a necessity to achieve his current desire. His focus was on the floor-length mirror on the wall as he very carefully began to manipulate his physical form. Big was easy, smaller was hard and to fit what he'd picked he'd need to be much smaller. The feeling of compression was strange and tingly, but also came with an unexpected feeling of strength. Bigger was stronger, wasn't that right? However he couldn't deny that his shrinking form hummed with contained energy and nearly shook with constrained strength.

Getting dressed was an entirely different process. He had to focus so carefully not to damage anything. The feelings were also different, with the material. Sometimes he felt constrained, and other times he felt something bubbling just beneath the surface of his skin. It was... Novel.

When he was finally completely dressed he threw his old clothes over his arm and walked up to the purchasing counter. He dropped the tags for what he'd grabbed and then extracted a couple hundred dollars from his wallet. "These are the tags for what I'm wearing. I'd like to wear it out."

The cashier, a middle aged woman, looked at his mostly covered face, then at the cash. She paused for a moment as though she were going to say something, then shook her head and clearly changed to another tact, "Will you need a bag for your other clothes?"

"Yes please." He replied.

He'd just made it out of the store when he heard the first bomb going off. His eyes narrowed as he looked in the direction of the explosion. The way everyone else around him was mostly oblivious told him this was a case of his advanced senses acting up. A tilt of the head was his only signal of thinking things over, and it ended quickly as he set off at a run that would make Olympic medalists green with envy. Already he could feel his telekinesis becoming more responsive. Flight may be impossible, but an extra kinetic push in every stride of his run was nearly as good a mover power all on its own.


* * *

"Not that you were hard to find," Bakuda was saying. Lisa grimaced in pain as she looked at the mad bomber. That last bomb had burnt her, badly. There were several thugs behind her, but they were wrong. Not ABB, Not thugs. Armed. Why? Blackmail. Held hostage, probably with bombs. "And if you think this only gets ten times harde-"

A blast of darkness interrupted her and they moved to run away. Instead there was a loud sound behind them, like the crack of a whip. 'Shouldn't be audible through Grue's darkness.' Suddenly they were all being pulled backwards. Grue's darkness was eaten by something even darker. Skitter failed to grab her first couple doorways but pulled out her knife and managed to dig it into a wall as a temporary anchor. With another short trip to a door handle she managed to hold on until the miniature black hole ended.

Just as they were catching our breath a canister was shot into the air above them. Before they could even react one of the lockers flew through the air intercepting the bomb and taking back towards its point of origin. "Fuck!" Bakuda shouted, clearly as surprised by the event as they were. There was another explosion, but it created distorted sounds that made a shiver run down Lisa's spine. Whatever that bomb was it would have been bad to get caught in it.

Her eyes tracked to the other side to get a look at their mysterious savior. The girl she saw was tall with hints of an hourglass figure but no real bust and barely any hips. Not female. They were wearing knee-high black boots with far too many buckles over red and black stripped socks that disappeared under their long black hooded coat. 'Crossdresser?' She wondered, but her power didn't confirm or deny. Just returned not female.

"Hey, bitch! The hell do you think you are?" Bakuda shouted from the top of a locker a few units down the way. The mystery girl just kicked the locker in front of her causing the entire row slide together. There was a muffled explosion as the act set off some sort of trap Bakuda had hidden for them between the lockers.

"Predictable. Your numbers are static. You fancy yourself smart and powerful but you ultimately lack confidence. Traps are safer than fighting yourself, and bombs are complicated enough to be pretty things in your aesthetic sense." The newcomer said blandly in a deep but not unfeminine voice. Thinker? No, doesn't think like normal people. Sees Bakuda as a construct, but her psychosis forces her to fit their model. "I still want to know. I won't let you get in the way of that."


* * *

Spoiler: summary

Browbeat gets stuck on a tangent after the bank robbery and winds up turning himself into a trap and joining the Undersiders... Strangely his powers work much more easily when he's condensing himself into something smaller.

Carol

(Автор: hobonisuru)

You're an awful mother.

A small part of me whispers, before I ruthlessly squash it like a bug. It's no more than she deserves no more than how she should be treated — by everyone. But I still feel pity, despite how much I know — I know — it's true, I still can't help but feel ill at ease as her expression wilts, just slightly, and for one insane moment I consider apologizing. I consider crushing her with a hug as I swear to make up for everything.

The moment passes. I see a flash, a memory, and even as I scrutinize her expression further, I can't help but notice the similarities. They're ever slight, but still present. I remember seeing him without his mask — without his physical mask — and the little things stand out.

How much does she hide under that lying little faГade of hers?

A much larger part of me hisses, and I clench my jaw and turn away before I do something I regret. I may not trust her, but there are lines I won't cross. I can't cross them lest I become just like him, a fraud of a gentleman. Many older fools who still remember him reminisce that he wasn't so bad compared today's criminals. Sure, they'd say, he had people killed — deceived, tortured, and murdered — but at least he had class. He never harmed woman and children, they said — utter lies, of course — and even if he still dealt with all the usual foibles of drugs and whoring, at least he's not... well, you know. As if blatant racism, be it white supremacy or Asian supremacy, was some sort of devilry. As if the easily identified brutes were somehow better than the slimy deception of 'style'.

I shook myself, and let it go.

I let it go. I had no other choice, after all. Let the lies continue, or become some sort of a joke of a woman, a joke of a hero.

You're still an awful mother, an awful woman, an awful girl.

It whispered again, and I squashed it just as before.

But I couldn't help the painful ache in my stomach.

Even as I walked to my car and drove to work, I still felt it.

I always felt it.


* * *

"Alan, you know we really can't excuse this kind of behavior." To be entirely honest, I was shocked. Alan Barnes never struck me as the kind of person to get into a brawl, let alone in the middle of the firm. He certainly wasn't the best type of person, but he didn't look it with his ripped collar and black eye. It looked worse than it was, but Alan only added to the image by nursing the icepack I'd given him. The other man had gotten in a number of good hits.

"Carol, I... he just..." Alan stammered for a moment, apparently at a loss, before coming back together. "It was just very personal. Believe me, it won't happen again."

In another happenstance, Alan probably would have been chomping at the bit to start a lawsuit, but with over a dozen witnesses that he was the main instigator, many of whom were coworkers that didn't particularly like him, on top of security footage, he wasn't exactly on steady ground.

"What was even the problem?" I was only mildly curious. It wasn't even really my place to scold him, but I could definitely smooth things over with the partners who would doubtlessly be looking to criticize his actions. Alan's next words caught me off guard, however.

"He, uh..." Alan licked his lips. "He's the father of that one girl. The uh, the super villain, Skitter."

I froze momentarily. Everybody in Brockton Bay had heard of Skitter — or rather, Taylor Hebert. It was a particularly interesting fuck up by the PRT that nobody really expected, especially with how bad it made the local heroes look, but they still had the girl in custody. I'd never had too much faith in Armsmaster, but even then I hadn't expected him to explode quite so spectacularly — at least in a public setting.

"And," I drew out the word slightly as I tried to connect things. "What exactly did he want with you?"

"He, we, uh, are — were, that is, former friends." Alan stammered again. "He wanted me to help his daughter, but I... um, I didn't..."

"I think I understand." I gave a short nod to stave off more. Normally I might have needled Alan a bit for his loss of composure, but my mind was already racing despite myself. I barely even noticed Alan beating a quick retreat out of my office.

I'd seen the girl myself, briefly, once in costume, and another out of it. Barely even a glance the second time. I didn't really know her at all, besides that my daughter hated her, but I could also read between the lines. I'd heard enough about her from others to grasp a picture — almost certainly a flawed picture, but a picture nonetheless — and I couldn't help but feel it.

Almost unconsciously, I started drafting the paperwork.


* * *

I'd actually tried going to a therapist once upon a time. It was on Sarah's suggestion, of course, and I could still remember the blowup we'd had from it, but she won that argument in the end. So I went.

I only lasted three sessions. The man had been highly educated from the degrees proudly displayed on his wall, and perhaps that should have been a sign, but I had never been particularly enthused by the thought of telling anyone, let alone a stranger, about myself anyway. I still tried to explain myself, explain the insane thoughts that sometimes spilled out of me, however.

After he smugly declared he knew what was wrong with me — a persecution complex on top of other 'minor neuroses' — I left and never looked back besides to threaten him with a lawsuit just for good measure. I'd only been an intern at the time, and I would never have actually wanted my therapy sessions to be public in any manner, but seeing his expression had been worth it.

In the end, I knew I had a problem. I had known for quite some time, and I also knew what it wasn't, so I wasn't going to watch some drummed up fool choke from sucking on his own dick while pretending to help me. I could have gone to another, but I'd refused. I refused to bare myself like that again. Most of all, I refused to give in.

I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul.

I shouted to myself, quoting Invictus like it had some sort of meaning to me. Even so, that conviction led to arguably what might have been the best time of my life. I built up a firm, I married Mark, and the Brigade eventually took down one of the leading criminal powers in the city near singlehandedly.

Sometimes I still look back with nostalgia to the height of the Brockton Bay Brigade's popularity. Back before Fleur died and Lightstar left. It wasn't without its downs, but the ups were wonderful. That was probably why it failed so miserably. I got caught up with our own hype, so much so that when the idea of New Wave came into being I could only love every bit of it. The lies of a superhero always bothered me — yet another layer of deceit — and what better way was there to rip away those lies than to lead by example? The practical reasons for New Wave were all well and fine, and would have been useful with my job, but peeling away that layer was always my main desire.

But I still felt it, no matter what I did. I hissed and spat curses to myself, squashing it down, but like prophecy, it all came crashing down. Everything I'd built up fell apart. Even for what I still held up, I could only wait for it too to tumble down.

"Ma'am, the prisoner's inside here." The PRT agent briskly broke me out of my musings, and I gave a short nod to him — dismissing him. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, no doubt wanting to be present for my conversation because PRT agents were never well versed in law, only interested in keeping danger elements contained, or PR. I glanced at his pips briefly even as I preempted him.

"Yes, thank you, sergeant." I shifted my posture to be less open. "I'll call you when I'm finished with my conversation with my client."

Potential client, really, and not one the firm would normally take on. This was more of my own prerogative than anything, but I doubt any of my coworkers would want to make waves by going against me.

Why are you even doing this? She's a villain! She deserves to be thrown in jail!

A part of me spat, angry, but not at the girl. I could feel that anger — that indignity — but it was so very small.

"Ms. Hebert?" I wasn't entirely certain of the pronunciation, but she didn't twitch or correct me as I entered the room. Sitting in one of the two chairs in the room, she glanced at me when I spoke. She didn't quite glare, but her body language radiated anger — no, not quite anger, distrust. She felt trapped, and my presence didn't assure her. For a moment, I paused as I felt disappointed, but brushed the feeling aside.

"What do you want?" Despite the clear emotions practically spilling out of her, her voice was flat.

"Ideally, I want to represent you in court." I said as I sat down opposite of her. At that, she seemed to freeze for a single, her eyes widening and then —

Nothing.

All the emotions slipped away. Nothing from her body language at all, a blank. I felt a sharp thrill shoot through my body, but quickly clamped down on the feeling.

"You're... Carol Dallon." Strangely, her voice was less flat than before. Still... blank, but not in a flat manner, merely calm. I was outright fascinated, but shook off that feeling too.

"I am." I nodded. "Since you jumped right down to the point, I won't bother with any pleasantries. You're a villain with an already bad reputation given the brutality of Lung's takedown, and how many people got injured at the gala incident, and the PRT's been doing its best to vilify you as much as possible to make themselves look good."

I didn't see any shift in expression as I talked. Was it... a thinker power? The PRT had rated her as a master, but was there something more there, or just some sort of discipline?

"That said, they're doing all they can because they know they're in a bad position. Armsmaster especially is in trouble both in the media and the cape community, and if you hire me I'm fairly confident I can win a pardon and some reparations, although perhaps not without some concessions."

"Why?" She immediately asked as soon as I finished my spiel. "Why do you want to help me?"

Always to the point. I felt a smidge of comradery before I crushed that too. While I wished more people could be as direct as this girl, now wasn't the time.

"I..." I hesitated. A surge of panic threatened to overwhelm me even as I contemplated it — I could barely believe I'd even entertained the thought, I should just throw it all away —

No.

No.

"I have a request for you." I murmured, almost too quiet to be heard, but she didn't lean closer, or ask me to speak up. She simply looked at me for a moment, scrutinizing me.

"What?" What did I want, indeed? But I couldn't say it, not here. I could barely say it within the privacy of my own head.

"Not here," I shook my head. "Not now. Later. I'll tell you what I want later, after I've won the case."

She frowned then, the first expression I'd seen on her since she'd become blank, and I felt my heart freeze.

"I don't like to leave things open like that." She shook her head. "And I don't exactly have the money to hire you, either. No deal."

She had a point, really. A blank check was dangerous, but still, I couldn't help the emotions that surged out from her blunt refusal.

"Wait!" I nearly shouted, like she was about to stand and leave — she couldn't, could she? She shouldn't be able to, but it felt like she could — and held up my hand. "You can still refuse. If you don't agree to my request when I tell it to you, after I've won the case, you can refuse."

At this, a film of confusion seemed to slide across her face, before it was once again blanked. No... ignored. She felt it, but put it to the side.

"That's it?" She pressed me. "You want one request, one I can refuse if I want to, and you'll win?"

"Yes, that's it." My emotions were almost crushing, but I did my best to steady them, to convince the woman across from me. "This is a personal request."

"Is it..." She paused, before slowly shaking her head. "No, I guess it doesn't matter. All right, I guess I'm sold."

It was with a hasty mixture of relief and guilt that I nearly fled the room after setting up another time to go over the details more thoroughly. The relief from her agreement was so stark in its intensity, but the guilt from feeling like I tricked her was just as strong in its own way.

You're an awful person.

I don't even know what part of me whispered it, and no matter how many excuses I could bring up to counter it, I couldn't help but agree.


* * *

It was eventually all settled out of court, of course. It would have been quite viscerally satisfying to rake some of those idiots over the coals, but from a practical standpoint I didn't want to piss the PRT off too much. Both the case and my cape life would be placed on unsteady ground if I did. The threat of a public trial, however, was not only fair game, but a useful piece in getting what I wanted.

What I wanted was very simple, but getting what my client wanted was somewhat more difficult. The PRT hated letting capes go independent, absolutely hated it, and Ms. Hebert wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Wards. In her own words, she'd rather face the Birdcage than join up with them, and didn't elaborate on it. It was only when she told me the reason why that I was able to ruthlessly throw that concession forever off the table.

In the end, after nearly four weeks of work, it was done. It was an incredibly speedy dealing, all things told, mostly because the PRT wanted to get it done and over with as fast as possible. I was able to win a pardon for Ms. Hebert's crimes, nearly half a million dollars for reparations of her revealed identity, and the best thing of all was the victory that the PRT thought they'd pulled over me. Their only concession was requiring probation of sorts for Ms. Hebert, needing a group of parahuman minders to watch over her. The PRT seemed to believe they were to be that group, but in the end they'd apparently forgotten that the Brockton Bay Brigade was technically still its own parahuman organization.

The only problem, of course, was that my client had realized from that victory what my game was. A tight, frustrated expression had filtered on to, and off of her face so quickly I barely caught it, but it had been there nonetheless. A feeling of being trapped, no doubt, and one I could sympathize with, in a way. I don't have quite the reaction she does to being cornered, despite myself.

Yes, despite myself... I sometimes reminisce about that basement. It always ends with me just frustrating myself — angering myself — but I still do so. I still feel it. Sarah likes to think I just developed Stockholm syndrome from our time in captivity, but the truth was I was trained to respond to their whims. We were fed so little, but the food we were given was drugged. And for some reason, Sarah always took a lot longer to wake up. Enough that they were finished by the time she woke up.

It didn't mean anything.

That's what part of me tells myself, but I can't help but feel it's wrong, no matter how much I try to shake it. I don't know why, and I'll never know why, but I eventually decided the why was unimportant. Knowing why still wouldn't change what I feel, after all. Time stretched oddly, down in that basement. I know objectively how long we were there, but to my personal time, it was an eternity. No, rather, I can't help but feel I might still be down there.

I blinked away the memories as I show Ms. Hebert — Taylor — to her room. It's somewhat bare, normally not used as much more than an extra bedroom when Sarah or her kids stayed for a night, but now it was going to be her room. Her room, I looked around it, suddenly feeling the grasp of unease begin to tighten its hold. I could feel it. I could feel the coming moment that had been building since I'd first talked to Alan — no, maybe even further back.

I'd tricked and wheedled myself here. Tricked myself, tricked my loved ones —

Could they truly be loved ones when it's all lies?

I had never escaped. I killed my captor, and I only felt like I'd destroyed the only thing that came my life meaning. I married Mark, had a child with him, but only did so because he could never betray me. I cared for Victoria, but only because she could never lie to me. I listened to Sarah, but only because she was there with me, she was in the dark basement too, in her own way.

You're awful.

That small part of me whispers again, the part of me that never left that basement, that's still waiting there like a good girl because it still trusts for them to come back.

And I know it's true, even as I squash it down yet again.

I'm my own master!

The part of me reveled in cape business screams, lying. Painfully, painfully lying. I can trust again if I want to, it shouts, pointing to my family, and closing my eyes to the truth.

But here — here — maybe there is a hope. I briefly see a look of surprise from Taylor as I kneel down, my nose buried in the carpet. I feel a surge of panic from that glimpse, but even as it thrills through my body I can already imagine the emotion sliding off her face. The emotion, ignored. Unimportant. So that when she speaks...

"What do you want?" She speaks with an utter calm, an absolute control. I feel another surge of emotion, far more heady.

"Please," I nearly choked, forcing the words out. "I'm awful. Please... punish me."

And she pulls it out of me. Even as she asks — commands — me to explain why I need to be punished, I can feel it. She pulls it all out of me, disjointed, starting first with only my cruel deeds, to my trickery, but soon to others, to Marquis, and eventually, ever so slowly, to that basement. I never look up. Even as my body begins to throb from my position, I never waver in pressing myself to the floor.

And then my confession is done. I feel no sense of unburdening, no alleviation of loathing — I just wait, emotions trembling my body.

She says nothing for a time; I can't even begin to guess how long. It stretched, however long it was, into the longest moment of my life. And then, finally, she passed judgment.

And I wept. My tears dripped into the carpet as I felt wave after wave of pure and utter relief.

Finally.

I whispered to myself, I didn't have to feel it anymore. I didn't have to be lost anymore. I didn't have to hate or love that basement anymore. I could stay there, or leave it, if the leash around my neck led me that way.

I don't have to be awful anymore.

My quiet cries of gratitude were interrupted by her bare foot pressing down on the back of my head. My nose, already buried in the carpet, throbbed painfully from the extra pressure.

And she commands me. Laying down rules — laws — that I have so desperately yearned for.

It's dark. There's no lighting in the room as I memorize everything she says, burn the words into my mind, and I don't feel the ache. I'm finally home.

Worm Abridged

(Автор: NaughtyBanette)

Attempt One

There are some days that I think the world can't really be as bad as people make it out to be. Sure, there's a lot of gangs in this city. Sure, I go to one of the worst schools in the city. Sure, the adults here are absolutely useless and those in authority are probably hand-picked to be the absolute worst they could possibly be. But my problems?

My problems don't stem from white supremacists or horrifying rage dragons. They don't even really stem from incompetent bosses or giant city-killing-god-monsters. All I've got to deal with is a trio of bullies.

"Well... At least they haven't found me here yet." Say what you will about eating lunch in a public school bathroom, it's still better than the alternative.

"Hey Taylor." Shit. "I found you."

"Then again..." I sigh, looking up at my trio of tormentors with a conditioned look of apathy. 'Some days I think can only be made better by liberal applications of bees.'

Looking down at my lunch, I continue to try and enjoy it as the girls pour several bottles of juice down on me. Incidentally, my sandwich tastes better when soggy with fruit punch. Silver linings right? "Hahahaha! I'm pouring juice on you! It's hilarious!" Madison giggles down at me.

"Not really." I shrug, holding out my lunch to better soak it.

"It's adorable?" She ventures, frowning slightly.

"Nope." I take a bite. Mmm, tastes like teenage insecurity and angst.

"It's amusing?" She whimpers as I look up at her.

"Not at all." I sigh, causing her to burst into tears.

"My life is a lie!" She cries, rushing out of the room.

"Madison! Get back here and be a mountain lion! Stop being an adorable kitten!" Emma shouts, rushing after her friend.

"But I am an adorable kitten!" Comes her distant reply.

Cold, wet, and sticky, I rise from my seat and step out into the bathroom proper. Sophia's there, as expected, and we take a long moment to stare one another down. Her own brand of completely undeserved superiority vs my professionally refined apathy. "Don't suppose you're planning on explaining why you're an unlikable bitch yet?"

"Nope. Actually, I'm going to hit you now." She states in almost perfect monotone.

"Fair enough." I shrug, bracing myself for the hit that doubles me over. "You know..." I gasp, falling to my knees. "Always aiming for my stomach shows a surprising lack of creativity."

"I know." She shrugs, turning around to leave. "Makes you paranoid for the day I change things up."

"Touche." I grumble, pulling myself up to my feet. Yeah... Today is one of those 'bees' days.


* * *

Episode 2

My costume is awesome.

There's really no way around it, in the world of spandex and travesties stitched together from goodwill, my costume rules supreme as the god-empress of costume-kind, heir to the golden throne of costumes, suitable for the glory of Sion himself.

Probably.

I mean, maybe some tinkertech bullshit has a chance of beating it, but that's flat out cheating. Everyone agrees tinkertech is cheating. Google it.

Granted, this is something like the third iteration of the design, but I had to make sure it was perfect for my debut. Sure, it took me three months, but you try figuring out the logistics of turning 'giant swarm of creepy-crawly doom' into something PR friendly. Not to mention the first design?

Well, I was honestly considering going by 'Captain Camel-toe' after that one. Yeesh.


* * *

"Swarm of Bees!"

There's something to be said for calling your attacks. That something, apparently, is 'Don't!'. Really, I should probably not have picked Lung as my first target as a hero, but go big or go home I always say. And always go home. It's times like these that I thank past-Taylor for having the foresight to never, ever go big.

Pokemon, apparently, is entirely correct. Fire beats bug, every time. Also, shouting from the rooftops what you're going to do just makes the angry rage-dragon even more annoyed. It probably doesn't help that I really only have one attack to shout, two if you count 'Larger Swarm of Bees!'. Which totally counts, and tends to be a catch-all term for just about everything I'm doing in this fight.

"Alright, look, I know we've had our differences. We've both crossed a few lines tonight." Is it bad I can't see where the fire ends and Lung begins? I think that's bad. "I mean, you were going to shoot up a bunch of kids, which I can appreciate as a villainous thing that villains totally do. I'm not going to tell you how to do your job, that would be rude."

Almost as rude as getting back-handed across the rooftop. Ow. "Really? I'm trying to speak here."

"Talking isn't a free action." Lung growls back. At least, that's what I'm assuming he's saying. He's really incoherent at this point, so I'm just going to put little caption boxes underneath him when he growls. How hard did he hit me?

"Right. So you've hit me a few times, and I'm pretty sure I've got some burns. I stung you a few hundred times, mostly in the genitals. We've both crossed a few lines, and I think it'd be best if we both part ways and cool down. If you still want to kill me in the morning-" I'm blessedly cut off by a speeding van-sized dog knocking the super villain clear off the roof.

"Oh sweet convenient comedic timing." I sigh, sitting upright.

"Hey, thanks for the save, because of you we only had to deal with a few thugs... You're not a villain." The first one off the dog turns to face me, brushing blonde hair from her face.

"Why in the world would you think I'm a villain?" I frown, looking over the assembled group.

"Well... You're wearing black." She states. I open my mouth to reply but—

"And spikes. Don't forget the spikes." The masked boy beside her points out.

"Plenty of heroes wear spiky black costumes." I reply, crossing my arms defensively.

"Like who? And don't say batman."

"Bat-damnit." There goes that avenue of defense. "Alright, so my costume is a little edgy."

"Very edgy." The girl smirks.

"A little edgy." I maintain. "That doesn't mean I should be judged by how I look. I did heroic stuff tonight, therefore I'm a hero."

"Right. Well... If you want to not be a hero, you could come with us." The girl smirks.

"Is... That a recruitment pitch?" I blink.

"Well-"

"Because it's the worst recruitment pitch I've ever heard." She blinks. "Seriously, 'Hey, you can come hang with us if you want to be a villain. It'll be great!'" I mock, causing her to frown. "'We can totally do evil stuff together, like stealing puppies-'"

The girl in the back with the crappy wolf-mask growls at me, literally growls at me. "Oooor, robbing banks? I mean, villains rob banks right? That's villainous."

"We're not the same as the other villains in town." The helmeted guy steps forwards. "We don't go around committing hate crimes, or dealing drugs, we just steal from the rich."

"And give to...?"

"Ourselves?" He supplies, shrugging his shoulders. "Look, do you want to get on the dog or not?"

"Ah, no. Good luck being small time crooks or whatever. I'll be sure to let everyone know I totally could have captured you if I wanted to." I wave cheerfully. "Trust me, I will never, ever, ever be a villain."

"That's fine. I don't think we could take you with us, your costume is so edgy it may cause injury." The blonde girl smirks.

"Oh... Yeah?" I reply weakly as they climb aboard and dash out of sight "Damnit!"


* * *

"You should be a villain." Armsmaster states, looking down at the unconscious Lung.

"What." That... I don't know what I expected, really, maybe a more heroic statement? "No 'good job kid'? No, 'you should join the Wards'? Not even a 'We'll make you team leader for soloing Lung'?"

Really, the last option was the minimum I'd accept as a concession.

"Good job kid." He grunts, turning to face me. "Your costume is-"

"Edgy. I know." I don't think I'll ever hear the end of it.

"A PR nightmare. Your powers are a PR nightmare. Do you have a name?" I shake my head, and I can see the disappointment on his face. "You said there were other villains here tonight."

"Yeah, they showed up at the last minute to ruin my dramatic speech, knocked out Lung, gave me a job offer and bolted." I pause for a moment. "I'm reasonably sure they thought I was a villain."

He stares. Long enough for it to be awkward. "Probably the edgy costume. Sir."

"The Undersiders are a relative mystery to us. They typically just resort to theft, snatch and grab missions and the like. Somehow, they continue to evade arrest with ease. I think they have someone powerful backing them." He states.

"Oh! Like some super secret shadow organization, working to pull the strings of every major government from behind the scenes? Plotting the eventual downfall of society and their eventual place as rules of a cape-based feudalistic society?" My eyes widen at the implications.

"That would be retarded." Armsmaster replies coldly. "It's likely just some other super villain using them to get ahead."

"And you want me to infiltrate them and see what I can dig up?" I ponder for a moment, considering the costs and benefits. On the one hand, I'd be doing dangerous, possibly illegal stuff. On the other... I'd have an excuse to be doing dangerous, possibly illegal stuff. "I would be honored to make this sacrifice sir."

He gives me a stiff nod, turning back to his bike. "You should go. Try and arrange a meeting with the Undersiders. Do your best not to get caught. If the PRT catches you-"

"Of course. You can count on me." I smile, turning towards one of the nearby alleyways. Got to make my exit in style, after all.

"Also. I'm taking credit for Lung's capture." He mutters quietly.

"What was that?" I blink, turning around.

"I said I'm confident you'll succeed." He grunts.


* * *

Episode 3

"Madison." I stare at the girl in front of me, who ambushed me outside of class. She stares back at me for a good long moment, looking progressively more nervous. "You forgot what you were supposed to say, didn't you?"

"Yeah..." She sighs, looking down.

"And your cue cards?"

"Lost 'em." She mumbles.

"So..." Man, now I feel awkward.

"I could shove you a bit?" She shrugs, looking hopeful.

"That's really more Sophia's thing." I point out.

"I could... Take your pencil?" She tries, smiling a bit. I sigh, and nod. "Can I take your pencil?"

"Are you asking me if you can steal my pencil?" I suppress a laugh. She's really too bad at this to really hate.

"No... I'm taking your pencil. Give it to me?" She tries, still not managing to be assertive at all.

"But it's my last one, and I have a test!" I feign dramatics, nearly swooning back against the bank of lockers.

"Oh..." She relents, going back to her starting position.

Damn it Madison, I have things to do today. "Look, how about I act really sad, and if anyone asks you can tell them you said something mean, but forgot what it was."

"Okay!" She beams. "You're the best Taylor! We should hang out some time!"

Too dumb to hate.


* * *

"Yo. Villains. It's me, that villain from the other night who totally soloed Lung. We should hang out, and do villain stuff." I'm really not that good at this sort of thing. Thankfully, it seems the Undersiders are willing enough to send me an open invitation on the forums anyways, so maybe it'll work?

"Really?" I can almost taste the sarcasm of the response.

"Really." "Really?" "Really." "Realllllly?" "Really." "... Fugly Bob's. No masks." Fuck.


* * *

"I'm Lisa. This is Alec, and that's Brian." The blonde girl points out, sitting down at the table across from me. I do my most serious pose, with my hands steepled in front of me, and lean forwards.

"You're the Cheshire Cat, you're Renaissance Man, and you're Darth Helmet." I gesture at each in turn, causing them to sigh and snicker in mixed amounts.

"Did you even research us before agreeing to this meeting?" Lisa groans, leaning forwards.

"I skimmed it." I got distracted, sue me. The internet is an interesting place. There are Case 53's doing all sorts of things that shouldn't be viewed on the school internet.

"I'm Tattletale." A reassuring name. "This is Grue." Must, resist, 'eat me' joke. "And Regent."

"Well I didn't vote for you." I snark reflexively, getting a smile from the boy. "So yeah, I'm totally on board with this whole villain thing."

"Really because you seemed reluctant last time." Alec smirks.

"Reluctant?" I feign ignorance.

"I believe your exact words were 'I will never, ever, ever be a villain'." Lisa supplies.

"You're quoting me out of context." I insist, smiling widely. "Seriously, I'm on board, let's go... Beat up homeless people, or rob a cancer ward or meet your mysterious boss."

"I'm not even going to get into this. Lisa, is she alright?" Brian turns to the blonde girl.

"Listen up. I can read minds. I know what you're thinking and all of your— Fuck, that song's going to be in my head all day." Lisa groans, resting her head on the table.

"Holy shit, you can read minds!" I gasp, sitting upright.

"No she can't. No one can read minds." Alec remarks, smiling as the girl gives him the finger. "She's just got inhibitions."

"Intuition. Super intuition. I can tell lots of things by body language and inferences." Lisa explains.

"Those too." The boy shrugs. "Anyways, is she clean?"

Lisa stares at me for a good long moment... "She's fine. Let's just go already."


* * *

"So... Super influenza huh?" Lisa twitches as we fall back from the others.

"You're doing that to annoy me. Stop." She snaps,

"What's your super senses tell you about me, Sherlock?" I grin.

"That you're a hero that's going to betray us." Huh. She's good. "I'm okay with you joining, because I don't like my boss either."

"Chronic backstabbing disorder?"

"I'm a villain, it's a legitimate strategy." She shrugs.

"Useful... Hey, you're just trying to seduce me to the dark side. Well, good luck with that. I'll be the one doing the seducing in this relationship." Yeah, poor choice of words. Neither of us comment on it.

"I'm not worried. There's not a single villainous bone in your body." Lisa smirks.

"Hey! I can totally be a villain! It's not that hard. I just have to gloat a lot, and pose, and make speeches... I'm not that great at public speaking but-"

"That would be a Ham, not a villain. There's a difference." She waves it off. "Alright, we're almost there. Rachel's probably going to try to murder you, just so you know."

"That's... I don't know how to feel about that." Really, who does that? 'Murder the new girl'.

"Just fight her off, show your strength and she'll respect you." Brian suggests, falling back to join up with us.

"Permission to use excessive violence to solve problems?" Hey, being a villain isn't that bad at all!


* * *

"Wow..." Lisa stares, blinking a few times to check her vision. "She's certainly... Creative."

"Heh, haven't seen that move used in ages. Told you it's viable in combat Brian." Alec snickers.

"That? That is not 'viable'. That is not even loosely defined as 'combat'." Brian replies. "But if she keeps this up, she may actually earn Rachel's respect."

"Sit! Stay!" I snap, stepping away from my opponent.

"Aaaaand it's gone." Brian sighs.

"Bark like a dog woman!" I order, dodging as Rachel lunges once more.

"Fifty bucks on 'dead by the end of the week'?" Alec asks, turning to his boss.

"Sucker's bet." Brian sighs.

What If

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

Start

"Good news, everyone!" Emma declared with a grand wave at a strange device at her side. It looked a bit like a TV that was cutting edge 60 years ago. "I have created something marvelous!"

"Emma," Lisa said, "I'm afraid that someone beat you to the punch on this particular invention. If you want, we can go to a RadioShack and get you caught up on modern tech."

"Fuck you too, Lisa."

"Girls, girls!" Napp— I mean Zach made to placate the two. "Only if I get to watch."

Lisa glared at Emma. "You set that up on purpose." She accused.

Lily snorted in amusement. "Did you need your power to figure that out? They've been doing that ever since they started dating."

"Your sickeningly cute couple activities are supposed to be things like wearing matching, terrible outfits, not setting up terrible jokes." Lisa whined.

"Does that mean you and Alexandria are going to show up to the next Endbringer fight in tacky sweaters?" Riley chimed in innocently.

Lisa placed her forehead in her hands. "Can you just explain the damn machine already?"

"Well," Victoria started, "You interrupted her, so this is all your fault."

Lisa huffed in exasperation. "Is it pick on Lisa day and no one told me?"

"Oh! I want in on that!" Missy exclaimed from her place on a very embarrassed Theo's lap. "The real reason you were a villain was that the government misread the 'u' as an 'o' and tried to shut you down for producing to much smog."

Sabah threw in her two cents. "The PRT uprated Hellhound's power because they thought that she made you from nothing. There was a collective sigh of relief when they realized her power was to make bitches massive, not to make massive bitches."

"Um... That Alexandria thinks of you as a friend makes me question my previous hero worship of her?" Everyone stared at Taylor. She fidgeted self-consciously at the attention. "What?"

"Taylor being adorkable aside, this is the 'What If Machine'! You ask it a what if question and it answers you! Or it should, anyways. Whenever I ask it about a scenario where I'm present, all that shows up is a dark room, what looks like a toppled chair and the sound of a rope creaking." Everyone in the room stiffened in horror. "Not sure what that means, so I thought you guys might have some ideas for questions to ask."

The mood lightened as people began to contemplate which questions to ask. Finally, someone spoke up.

"I have a question..."

Cut These Strings

(Автор: (Mr_John)

It was over.

And just like that, my strings were cut.

I collapsed on the ground, limbs twitching slightly. It took several minutes to get them under control. I didn't dare try to stand— there was no way I'd be able to walk, at this point.

Instead, I just stared at the stars.

This always happened when I completed a Path. I would regain control of my body. After so long, just riding as a passenger in my own head, it's hard to remember how to move correctly. I usually get it down in a couple of minutes, if I really work at it.

I didn't feel like working at it.

...So this was the end. Khepri was lying unconscious not twenty feet away from me— I had to repress a small shiver at that thought— and Scion was dead.

We won.

So why didn't it feel like winning?

A lot of people were dead. Much less than Cauldron projected, though.

All of us had expected to die, on the end. Instead, only Eidolon and Alexandria had. Except Alexandria had died to Skitter. I felt a brief surge of anger at the teen lying not too far away from me. It died quickly. Alexandria had pushed the envelope. She'd always gone too fast, too hard with villains, and it had gotten her killed. I couldn't even really blame Skitter. She'd been trying to protect her friends.

Just like I had.

There was wetness, dripping from my eyes. It'd been a long time since I last cried. The Path— Contessa— never needed it. I was never in control long enough to do it myself.

David... Alex...

I didn't deserve to cry for them. I wasn't their friend. Contessa was, and she wasn't even a real person, just the steps along the Path. Even Doctor Mother, the psychotic woman, hadn't seen me— the real one, Fortuna— in years. Every moment they'd had with Contessa, every activity, was fake. A step my body took.

I wanted them to be happy. Instead, they're dead.

...I guess that crush on David was never going anywhere. Not like it could in the first place, though.

....That... Was enough. I had taken enough time to myself. Time when I was me just meant that Contessa wasn't following he Path, wasn't working towards the goal. It was selfish... And I just wanted to retreat, now.

I chose a Path.

Contessa rose easily, efficient wiping away the residue from the tears. She strode towards Khepri without hesitation, slinging her over her shoulder, and started working towards an unknown point on this empty planet. Presumably, the one that would get her off of it.

Fortuna sunk down into the quiet, lonely depths of her mind.

Game on CYOA

(Автор: NaughtyBanette)

Interesting Idea I had for what a totally amoral pervert could do with the CYOA style powers.

-Game On—

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Taylor Hebert awoke with a start, suppressing a small panic attack at the confined space she found herself inside. It wasn't a locker, but the close confines and stuffy atmosphere made it almost as bad, in her opinion. The voice was loud, booming, and seemed to come from all over. "Welcome, to another edition of 'You Bet Your Ass!'"

Dread immediately pooled in the teenager's stomach, as she drew on her powers and found them absent. She'd heard about this game, everyone had. Some cape had shown up a few months ago with a variety of bullshit-tier powers and had proceeded to seriously fuck with the status-quo. The biggest aspect? Power altering.

Apparently the individual could grant, change, or remove powers entirely at will. But did he use this power for good? No. Instead he, or she, the individual had a habit of swapping genders like clothing, simply went out and did seemingly random things for its own amusement. This game being only one of them.

Taylor knew the rules, at least. A selection of people, usually girls, though occasionally a particularly heinous boy was selected and turned female, would be placed into a 'game' and streamed online for the world to see. Any attempts at bringing down the site failed miserably, and despite all efforts the game itself became quite popular to watch. There were people who even volunteered for the games, despite the risks of death or extreme humiliation, purely for the rewards.

Powers.

As part of the game, each contestant would be given powers. They started at low level, but could be 'bought up' with experience earned by completing tasks within the game. Some of the previous victors had escaped back into the real world with triumvirate-tier power sets, enough to make even existing capes drool. Of course, the vast majority failed miserably and were dumped shamed and broken back into their old lives.

Worse, a few villains had been selected and failed, and didn't even regain their old powers. They were rendered completely helpless when the Protectorate eventually tracked them down. It was enough to make Taylor shudder at the thought.

"Today we have a special treat for you! We've selected six beauties from the same city for a special teamwork based game! Will they be able to overcome their childish drama and face down the dreaded dungeon? Or will they meet a sticky, messy, sexy end? I can't wait to find out!" The voice was overly cheerful, like an announcer playing to a crowd. In fact, she could even hear the applause and cheering of those tuned in to watch the fireworks.

Taking a deep breath, Taylor remained calm and examined the menu before her. It was something similar to a character sheet from a table top game, though she'd only ever seen one from an outside perspective. Her circle of friends, back when she had a circle of friends, was never interested in things like that. Still, there were help icons and sundry other references that helped her figure things out.

Her stats seemed to be baseline for a human, though her constitution and dexterity were above average, and her mental stats, save charisma, were woefully depressing. Sure, looking back she'd made some unwise and just plain dumb decisions, but she didn't think she was stupid.

"Hey!" A familiar voice, one she was dimly certain she should recognize, shouted from somewhere out of sight. "Our powers are already chosen! How's that fair!"

"As I said, this will be a special game." The voice in charge lectured, and Taylor could almost hear the grin in his voice. "Cooperation is the name of the game, but you can pick a minor power to augment your abilities."

Sure enough, Taylor's power sheet already had a power selected, and it wasn't her precious bug control. Joke all you like about the power, she had grown quite fond of it over the past month or so. Instead, 'Complete Hydrokinesis: Rank 1' was selected. A quick inspection revealed her level of control and the amount of water she could manipulate were both limited, but it seemed like an incredibly versatile power.

She could work with that.

She passed over the Tinker powers. They were tempting, able to do truly bullshit things if given time to set up, but she'd heard in the past about all the failures that had quickly discovered what a lack of prep-time could do. Instead, she quickly flipped through the list of Thinker powers.

Battle Clarity stood out at the forefront of the options. It was just cheap enough for her to purchase, and should be quite effective in the coming battles. It worked similar to Lung's powers, an escalating level of thinking depending on the relative hazard of the situation. It was designed for those wishing to keep a level head in combat situations, and for those looking to maximize options on the fly.

Without even bothering to really look at the others, she selected and locked in the power. It would be another tool to help ensure she survived this nightmare unscathed. Then came the arduous process of waiting for whoever else was chosen to make their own choices.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen, looks like our team of heroines are ready to roll! Without further ado, allow me to introduce our lovely ladies!" A flash of light washed over Taylor's body as the pod opened, jettisoning her out into an awkward standing position. Her outfit changed in the flash, covering her in some sort of white and blue dress that flattered her gangly figure.

"I look like a magical girl." The unamused statement drew her attention to the left, and Taylor felt her heart lurch into her throat. Directly beside her stood Sophia Hess, bully of her nightmares, wearing a similar style dress in dark purple and black highlights. Hers had a long overcoat that stretched down to her ankles, complimenting the rather short skirt and tanktop that generously hugged her curves.

If Taylor's outfit was long and regal, with too many layers and ruffles, Sophia's was a seductive piece designed to coax drool from the masses. Keeping quiet, Taylor turned to regard the rest of the room and felt her stomach drop down to her feet.

On her right stood Madison, clad in a tunic and shorts done in light and dark green. A long green cloak flowed down her back, and her torso seemed almost covered with an excess of belts and ribbons that crisscrossed her form. A relatively simple affair, compared to Taylor's, but still well-crafted and easy to move in. It fit the girl's short and cute look to a tee, making her look even more youthful than she usually did.

To Sophia's left stood Emma herself, clad in, of all things, a set of metal-plated clothing in reds and oranges. The top, a shirt that flared out at the waist into some kind of overcoat, looked to be almost scaled with interlocking plates of durable metal. The skirt, in turn, fell down around the gorgeous girl's legs with only a single slit revealing her creamy thighs. Somehow, despite how effective it all looked, a generous amount of the girl's ample cleavage shone through the top and seemed to draw the eye even with the shiny metal bits clinging elsewhere.

The last two were familiar only from Taylor's previous experience as a villain. Directly across from Taylor, standing with all the confidence she could muster, Victoria Dallon gazed around the room herself. Her outfit was almost as regal as Taylor's herself, the dress was long at the back, like a cloak, and high and tight near the front to provide mobility. The top was narrow and nearly form-fitting to accentuate her ample breasts. The whites and golds seemed to shine with light, illuminating the room and drawing attention to her confident posture. Most importantly, the entire outfit seemed covered in thin metal plates designed to disperse impacts across it. It was, strangely enough, a dress designed for battle.

Last, and certainly not least, Amy Dallon stood near her sister. Unlike everyone else, her outfit seemed excessively plain. Browns and greens mixed in a seemingly natural harmony into a rather homely set of traditional robes. The long overcoat barely covered the simple tunic shirt and shorts beneath, giving her usually mousy look an almost boyish appearance.

A flash of light drew their attentions upwards, to writing that suddenly appeared over each of their heads. Immediately the room burst into a series of emotional sounds as each unwilling combatant took in the names and titles of their impromptu allies.

"Sophia Hess: The Anti-Anti-Anti-Hero!"

"Emma Barnes: The Chronically Backstabbing Beauty Queen!"

"Victoria Dallon: The Collateral Damage Barbie!"

"Amy Dallon: The Overworked Deviant!"

"Madison Clements: Ascended Fangirl Princess!"

"Taylor Hebert: Dominatrix Queen of Escalation!"

And then the shouting started.


* * *

-Game on—

"Oh great, dead weight-" "I have Powers!" "You alright to-" "What do you think-" "Can't believe he'd say something like that-" "-least we have a healer-" "-So cool!"

"Quiet!" Taylor snapped, her voice actually rising over the commotion and drawing attention to herself. "Uh... L-look," Her charisma was supposed to be good, wasn't it? Where was it now, speaking up in the face of all these people with a reason (as poor as it was for some) to hate her. "This is a team game right? We should try to get along."

Emma snorted, an actual puff of smoke wafting from her nose as she strode forwards. Her hips swayed, her metal scales jingled, and the 'crowd' seemed to go silent in appreciation. "You've got powers now, don't you?" Rather than seem scared, as Taylor would have expected, the beauty seemed... Amused. "I guess you're not the useless little prey anymore."

"Please." Sophia scoffed, striding up and leering dangerously at Taylor. "Even if she has power, she doesn't have the will to use it. That's why she never fought back."

"Fought back?" It was Victoria, of all people, who spoke up. She moved from her side of the room to interpose between herself and her sister, and her glare was anything but kind. Even without her ever present aura, the room's occupants couldn't help but cringe under her tone. "I know you, Sophia. I don't like you, but I think we can work together on this. If anything, your title suits you. You're not a hero, you've done some shady stuff, but I'm willing to overlook a bit of excessive force if it gets us out of here."

"You're one to talk." Sophia shot back, turning to glare at the blonde. "Excessive force? Wasn't there one time you hit a mugger with a dumpster? Your title suits you just fine."

"It's her, I'm concerned about." Vicky continued, ignoring the jibe and rounding on Emma. "What, exactly, did you do to earn something like that?"

"You want to go digging?" Emma snapped, rounding on the more athletic girl and positively radiating heat. "Why don't we bring up the 'deviant' behind you?"

Amy cringed, seeming to shrink even further in on herself at the attention. "She used to be my best friend." Taylor spoke up, spotting a chance to get a little sympathy and clear the air. Bank job or not, having Vicky, and by proxy, Amy, on her side would be a boon. "Then she became my worst enemy on a whim, and spent a few years bullying me with the other two."

"I was trying to toughen you up." Emma replied, huffing a cloud of smoke and waving off the accusation. "Life is tough, Taylor, the strong survive. Just like the strong are going to survive this little game."

"Enough about that, we've got powers!" Madison interrupted, practically springing into the middle of the group. "I mean, sure, some of you-" She shot Vicky and Amy an envious look, "may have had powers for years, but for some of us this is huge! What can you all do? I can control the wind!"

A gust picked up, ruffling through the clothing of those in the room and cooling heads a little bit. "I'm still working on it." The brunette added with a small blush. "That, and I took mass control. Watch!" With a graceful motion, the petite girl stepped forwards and smoothly lifted herself into a handstand on Emma's shoulders. "Tada! Who knew all those gymnastics lessons would pay off?"

"Air-head's got a point." Vicky pointed out, backing down begrudgingly. "What did everyone get given, and what did you pick to supplement it? I've got some kind of light control, maybe like Legend's if I work at it, and I took an aura that should make everyone around me a little bit stronger. It's not the same as my old aura..."

"Must be tragic, having to rely on actual personality to make people like you." Sophia snarked, turning her head to the side and crossing her arms.

"I," Amy stepped up, suddenly gaining confidence in defense of her sister. "Have a low-grade geokinesis. Earth, dirt, mud... Stones too, I think. I've been toying with it, but it's pretty clunky so far. Like Vicky said, I think it'll get stronger as we uh... Play. I took a low-grade healing power. They didn't have anything like my old one, but this one lets me draw nutrients from the ground through my feet, like a plant, and rapidly heal. It's self-only right now..."

"Well... No more being the best healer on the east coast." Vicky sighed, and Amy frowned as well. No one really noticed that Amy's heart wasn't quite in her sorrow.

"Water control." Taylor admitted, seeing no one else step forwards to volunteer. "I'm sensing a theme here. Small scale stuff for now, it'll take some practice for it to be useful." Already she'd noted several limitations. Limited quantity, intense focus to get it to do anything precise, inability to draw it from nowhere, and inability to affect the liquids inside of people. Lots of limitations, but that was how the game worked. Improvements would come with time. "I took a Thinker power too, it's a combat based one, should give me inspiration in a fight."

"I guess I'm fire then," Emma shrugged, "as if it weren't obvious. I took a brute power, general increase to physical 'stats' based on danger, until I'm strong enough that the dangerous stuff isn't dangerous any more. A bit like Lung's but without the transformation or regeneration." Spotting the looks, she gave an indignant huff. "After what his gang did? I intend to get out of here strong enough to kick his ass."

"Darkness." Sophia sighed. "Or Shadow, or something. I can move shadows around, make them solid and stuff. I don't know, the description says it'll involve other things eventually, but I miss my-" She stopped, clicking her teeth together audibly. "I took a striker power too. I can draw matter from people I touch to heal myself."

"Sounds pretty balanced then." Vicky nodded. "Let's get on with the game then, what are the rules?"

"Who made you the-" Sophia began, before the game master suddenly returned.

"Excellent decision! Wouldn't want to keep the viewers waiting, after all! The rules are relatively simple. You'll be given one dungeon a day to complete, these can range from vast treks across untamed wilderness filled with dangerous monsters, to exploring ancient tombs filled with esoteric traps. From slaying dragons to pulling off the perfect heist on a modern day office building." The voice explained. "Each task will have clearly defined rules, as well as bonus objectives, some visible some hidden. Achieving these tasks will allow you to move on with the game, achieving bonus objectives will grant you extra rewards."

"The main thing you need to keep in mind, is that I don't decide who gets experience, beyond the rewards at the end of each task. It's the viewers who decide who gets what. Maybe they think you did a great job, maybe they take pity on you, maybe they think you're the sexiest one of the bunch. I don't control the criteria. If you get more fans, you'll get more power." The grin is audible as the voice continues. "If they don't like you? Well, viewers can give up their daily vote to punish you instead. It may be a spot of bad luck at an inappropriate time, or even a buff to a particularly dangerous challenge, so try not to offend too many people."

Emma visibly blanched at that, holding her lips shut and forcing a thin smile on her face. "Finally, you'll notice a little health bar at the corner of your vision, just down to the right." Sure enough, each contestant glanced down and found the little green bar. "This represents your hit points. It's not an absolute, you can keep fighting while empty, but..." The tone could only be described as 'ominous'. "Every time you would take damage, your clothing receives the hit instead, so long as you have clothing left to sacrifice. Once the bar is empty, and your clothing is all gone, you're on your own. Better let go of your shame, or it'll get you killed."

"Son of a-" "Pervert." "You've got to be kidding me." Emma, Sophia, and Vicky protested weakly.

"So, let's start off with something fun, to warm you all up!" The voice continued merrily on, and the room began to rumble and shake. "This'll be a dungeon run. Get your whole team to the exit and you win! Careful though, slow and steady may win the race here! Oh, I almost forgot. On the wall behind you are some weapons. You might want to grab one of those. Things are going to get messy."

With a nearly deafening 'boom' the wall before the assembled group dropped into the ground, revealing a dimly-lit stone hallway beyond. At first, it seemed like nothing was there, leaving the group to turn and inspect the medieval weaponry. "Why can't they give us a grenade launcher." Vicky joked, picking a spear off of the wall.

"Oh hey! Monsters!" Madison called, drawing attention back to the hallway. Sure enough, a trio of strange slime-like creatures slid their way slowly towards the group, taking vaguely humanoid forms as they did so. "Aww, they look kind of cu-" SPLAT!

With a muffled squeak of surprise, Madison toppled backwards onto the ground clutching at her face, desperate to peel the green gunk off as she rolled around on the ground.

"Begin!"

The Best Has No Limits

(Автор: SamPardi)

"You know, I've been looking a long time for an individual such as yourself." Jack Slash said conversationally.

The man he was talking to took a quick step to one side and easily avoided a veritable tornado of glass. His arm flicked out and there was a solid thump of knife meeting flesh. The tornado fell under the weight of gravity as its owner clasped already bloodied hands around her throat, unable to stop the bleeding. "You have? I must say that I find that statement remarkable. Very few people have ever chosen to seek me out beyond those that I would call my brothers. Among those others there is a certain propensity towards wishing to do violence to my person."

"Remarkable, such class. And yet you throw off the rules of the world around you without a second thought." Jack said.

"The rules of the world? I admit I have no use for such a concept," The man agreed.

"Then why not come with me? Flaunt those rules on a grand stage! Let everyone see how pointless their playing pretend really is!" Jack enthused.

"Why? I already know why I don't need such rules. It seems to me that the figures around me have great need of them. I can't blame them. They're just figures of my imagination and I guess my imagination just isn't that good," The man replied.

Jack blinked, trying to regather himself in the face of this unexpected worldview. "Well — "

"Like I imagined there was this dame who was the spitting image of my Chane. I knew it wasn't her, Chane's too easy to read, but I figure my imagination needed me to have a reminder so I wouldn't get confused between this dream and the last one. As I was saying this dame was innocent in a way my Chane isn't, hasn't been in a long time, and I have to admit I kind of like that. Not enough to give up on quest to return to the previous incarnation of my mind's creation, but I find it enjoyable. Only some guys were hanging around her neighborhood making trouble. So I took care of them. I would have to guess all the other crazy guys and dames I've had to take care of since I got here sprung from that incident. Still, even when things seemed to be going badly I didn't see her cry, not even when that monster came from the bay. Not until she heard you and your family were in town anyway, then she really cried and looked terrified." The man told Jack.

"I see." Jack said subtly moving into a more combative stance. "I didn't really take you for the sentimental type."

"I'm not. But seeing her reminded me of what my Chane would do. But seeing as she wasn't here to kill you all, I figured I'd do it in her stead. If I ever get back, the story may even earn me a small smile." The man replied with the look of someone remembering the best spring day of their life.

Jack sighed, "And I was so hopping I wouldn't have to kill you."

The man barked out a laugh and grinned through the blood coating his face. "Kill me? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I can't die. Like I told my Chane, I'm a man who'll never die."

Jack sent out a flurry of strikes but his foe dodged with inhuman agility while still eating up the ground between them. "And what should I call you, man who'll never die?"

There was a short tussle at point blank range almost too fast for even Jack to keep up with. When they separated Jack had a deep cut on his left arm and a series of nicks on his face and shoulders. His opponent was entirely unharmed except for the bottom half of his tie that was slowly fluttering to the ground.

"Around here most call me The Hunter, but I prefer the name Claire Stanfield," The redhead grinned as he once again closed the distance between them.

(Worm/Bacanno)

A Grimm New World (RWBY)

(Автор: NaughtyBanette)

(Don't know where I'm going with this, really. The idea popped into my head from the CYOA, where Aura from RWBY was one of the options. The premise is that something goes wrong with Taylor's trigger event. Probably the S9 getting involved because 'reasons'. Rather than controlling anything, she instead winds up killing almost everyone in Brockton Bay.

Of those that survive, they are either resilient enough to endure it, trigger with something to resist it (Which is where Aura comes in), or get turned into monsters. Existing parahumans become twisted monsters with mockeries of their powers. Those with the potential that aren't resilient enough to trigger instead become lesser monsters with horrible physical mutations. Basically, Worm-Resident Evil style, with RWBY splashed in.)


* * *

Cold.

Nothing but biting, sickening cold.

It clings to me, a cloying mist that ensnares my very being, capturing my heart and soul and dragging me surely downwards.

I'm falling. Sinking. Drowning in the pervasive cold that has neither beginning nor ending. It is infinite in breadth, and unlimited in its callous disregard for human life.

There is nothing there, only death.

For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all, infinite in distance and unbound by death.

The cold fades to the background. It become distant, bearable, tolerable even. Something stirs within me to push it away.

I release your soul, and by my shoulder protect thee.

I wake shivering, desperate to cast off the last of the oppressive weight of my own mortality. That feeling, that awful lingering feeling of the icy touch of death, remains with me even now. It fades, slowly, in the face of an inner warmth that struggles from my very core to the surface of my skin.

I'm alive.

I'm alone, in that regard.

The bus I was travelling on is lodged in the side of a building, the driver slumped across the wheel. The passengers are sprawled about, their skin pale and drawn. There's blood. A lot of blood.

The nice old lady beside me, who spoke at obnoxious lengths about her grandchildren during the trip, is only halfway on her seat. Her skin is pale, her lips are blue, and she isn't breathing.

I want to be sad for her. I want to feel sorrow for all the death around me. I want to cry for all the senseless loss, but there's oh so much of it. On the street I can see several more bodies, laying in the evening sun. Whatever happened, it must have been wide-spread. City-wide? World-wide? Surely someone else must have lived through the destruction.

Numbly, I climb to my feet and begin picking my way gingerly towards the front of the bus. The cold creeps into me, but I fend it off by flaring the warmth inside. It's like a light, a torch, a bonfire of life itself that wards off any influence that isn't 'me'.

It is my soul. No. Not quite. I am my soul, and I protect my body.

There are cars all over the road. Many crashed against one another or slammed into buildings. Such a sudden wave of death has devastated the area, and it takes time to move around the debris. I don't even know where I'm moving to, really.

The goal had been to take the bus to Brockton Bay, and then move on to Boston. I doubt there's anyone alive to drive a bus to Boston now.

It seems like hours, walking through the devastated streets. There's the occasional flicker of fire, both among the cars and up in the windows of a few apartment buildings. In the distance, the occasional explosion fills the night. I don't understand, even now, what caused such a thing to happen, but I know my own powers are all that spared my life.

Powers.

I never wanted powers. Everyone else, growing up, would brag and boast, fantasize and hypothesize about powers. 'If you could have any power...' They'd say, and then argue about invincibility and time travel, of teleportation or shapeshifting. They always acted like powers brought freedom.

I always disagreed.

Powers brought nothing but burdens. Chains, which held heroes down, restricted them until they were puppets for the people below them. Chains that held deadly ultimatums over the heads of villains. 'Step out of line...' a constant threat that always loomed over those with powers.

People with powers could never be normal. It was a death sentence. A curse. 'May you live in interesting times'.

Powers were the reason everyone in the city, save me, was dead.

What was that saying? A million is a statistic? How fitting, that after the umpteenth dead body, of seeing small children laying dead on the streets on their way home from school, I stopped feeling that gut-wrenching horror. I stopped feeling much of anything at all, really. Just focusing on fending off that cold feeling of death still clinging to my body.

A crash to my left, the sound of garbage being kicked down an alleyway. A haunting, creepy sound that none-the-less filled me with hope. Could there be other survivors? Am I not the only one?

In a city this big, surely someone else had the power to survive.

There was, and there wasn't. A mixed bag meets me in the alleyway. There is a girl, younger than me and dressed in nothing but filth-covered rags, alive and fighting. There is also... Something else.

It lurches and shambles, like something out of a zombie movie, made of flesh and bone that fit no real structure of a living thing. Like someone had picked up the pieces of a human, fashioned them into something human shaped, and sent it out to stalk the nightmares of the living.

The girl lets out a muffled squeak as it pushes its entire mass against her, pinning her to the wall with its bulk, even as a single hand-a gnarled mass of hooked claws pushes her neck to the bricks behind her. Even from here I can smell the raw, meaty stench that wafts off the creature as the girl kicks and pushes at it in vain.

The way she fights, the way she struggles, kicking and punching at the bulk of misshapen flesh that pins her... The way her body practically glows with that same power that keeps me alive. It stirs me to action, and somehow within a few quick steps I am upon the wretched creature.

A quick right punch to the thing's head, flowing into an elbow that becomes a shoulder check. It lurches back, dropping the girl and digging in the hooked claws of its feet. Turning, it lashes out at me and I dance back, catching a raking claw to my sweatshirt as I do so. The girl scrambles to her feet, panicked to the point where I expect her to flee.

Instead, she stands on trembling legs, muttering to herself as she draws ragged gasps of air. The creature roars, its inhuman face opening and unfolding into some mangled mockery of a mouth. Too many teeth, rows and rows of them, hooked and moving to devour flesh like a meat grinder. I ignore the savage terror and rush forwards, throwing a punch below the creature's open mouth, following it up with two more before kicking it back as it tried to lunge.

"For it is in passing we achieve immortality." The girl beside me mutters, picking up a jagged plank of wood from the dumpster nearby. The words resonate with me, reminding me of... Something. With a dash the girl, slight and unhealthily thin against the twisted bulk of flesh that is the monstrosity, closed in and swings with her weapon.

There's a muted boom as it connects, snapping the arm of the creature rather than the plank as I'd expected. The creature roars, stepping backwards as the girl swings the same plank with equal brutality, driving it into the knee of the beast and the heel of her foot into its crotch. The creature falls backwards with a roar as she steps forwards, bringing the jagged edge of the weapon down and nailing the aberration to the ground.

"Wow... You-" My words are cut of as she wobbles in place and begins to fall backwards. I step forwards, catching her and cradling her gently in my arms. "Easy there..." I mutter softly as she struggles briefly, her eyes widening in panic. "You're safe now."

A shuffling roar from behind me quickly proves me a liar. Two more, one short and squat, with long barbed quills coating its back, the other broad and top-heavy, with arms that taper into long hooked tentacles, shamble into the alleyway. "Right then..." I do the only thing I can, at this point. I run.

It takes almost an hour of running ,with the girl in my arms, to find somewhere safe and away from the monsters. It's way more than I could have done before, without this burning aura fueling my movements. It's amazing, and versatile, this power of mine, but I can feel it dwindle ever dimmer as I push myself away from the things that roam the streets of Brockton Bay, picking through the bodies for survivors.

I want to know where the heroes are. Or the villains, even. Where are the ones with powers, among all the horrifying abominations and the myriad bodies?

There's so many things I need, now that the world has gone dark. I need a safe place to hide, away from the lurking terror. I need warmth, a fire, more clothing will do. I need food, a desperate need that I haven't felt in years. I need safety and shelter and comfort, and the city has so little to offer.

In the end I find an old house in a poorer area of town. The last monster I saw was ten minutes back, and I don't think I'm being followed any more. Even still, I enter the house carefully, checking each room for danger, before retreating to the basement.

I don't dare light a fire, or turn the lights on. My eyes have adjusted alright to the dark, as I lay my companion down in the corner of the room. The blankets from both bedrooms are stripped down and brought to the basement, along with whatever food I could find that doesn't need to be heated.

Cold food only makes the misery hanging over the city even bleaker, but at least it's filling.

Gingerly I wake my companion, wary of how dim her aura seems even now. Reaching out, I try to push some of mine into her, and she groans softly.

It's not a groan of pain, either. I dimly remember hearing that groan once or twice in a dark movie theater, back when... It seems so long ago, like another lifetime. "Hey... Are you awake?" No matter how quiet I try to be, my voice still sounds too loud for hiding. It's rough, pinched from the stress and from my own exhaustion.

She wakes, her eyes opening wide with the faint color of red spreading across her dirt-covered cheeks. Beneath the grime her skin must be well tanned, and her hair, a short messy mass of dirty blond, clings to her forehead with sweat. "W-what-" She squeaks in surprise, her voice tiny and timid as she woozily tries to sit upright.

"Careful... You seem exhausted." I soothe, helping her sit upright on the blankets. It's getting even colder as the last warmth of the sun fades away. "We should be safe here, for the night. Eat something and we'll get some rest."

She looks down at the pile of food and her eyes widen. With trembling fingers she gently reaches out and picks up a ripe tomato. We eat in silence, me from my own exhaustion, her from the sheer reverence she treats the food with. I imagine she's gone hungry more nights than not, in the past.

"I'm Ethan, by the way." She turns to glance at me, still eyeing me with a bit of caution, before her eyes drop to the tear in my clothing.

"You saved my life." She mutters, putting her food down for a moment. "I'm... Tina."

"It's nice to meet you Tina." I put on a weak smile, holding out one of the cans of Soda I procured. I think tomorrow we should probably loot some basic supplies, but for tonight this is really all we have. "I think we have the same powers."

"For it is in passing we achieve immortality." She mutters, almost by reflex, and her dim aura flares for a brief moment.

"Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all." I smile back at her.

"It's gone, now. When they hit me, I felt it weaken." She frowns, sipping gingerly at her drink.

"It's still there. It'll come back. It's recovering, slowly." That's interesting though. Does it work as some kind of force field too? What can't it do?

"So what now? We have to get out of the city, don't we?" She sighs, looking even younger than she must really be. I'm only seventeen, but I feel like an old man at this point.

"If this is like Nilbog all over again, they'll wall off the city. Escaping will be tough." I sigh, it's tough to stay optimistic like this. "Maybe there's other people with this power, though? We can look for them, as we try to find a way out."

She frowns at that. "Why? If they have power, they can look after themselves. If not, they're already dead."

"We'd be stronger, fighting as a group. More people to look after us when we need it." I point out.

"No one ever looked out for me when I needed it. Not before I got powers." She grumbles, poking at her food.

"I-" I pause, trying to think of the right words. It's true, in a bitter sort of way. "I'm sorry, for that." She looks up at me, and we lock eyes for a moment. "I can't apologize for everyone else, but I'm personally sorry. I vow, from now on, to protect you however I can."

I extend my hand, and she looks at it for a good long moment, weighing my words and my earlier actions, no doubt. She takes it, gingerly, and shakes it. "Fine. I... Don't expect me to save you, if you do something stupid though."

"I'll trust you to keep me in line." I joke. The next hour or so is spent discussing strategies for tomorrow. She knows the city better than I do, and is used to scavenging. Despite that, she overlooks a few things that I help out with. As we sit, cold and alone in the dark, a plan comes together. Weapons, food, medical supplies. A radio, to contact other possible survivors. Just knowing what tomorrow has in store gives a sort of comfort as we separate to get some sleep.

Sleep doesn't come easily. Wrapped in blankets, huddled against the cold concrete floor, the cold still finds a way to seep in. As I lay there, watching my breath fog up the air, I can't help but hear the soft shuddering breaths of Tina a few feet away.

After a few minutes I give up sleeping, instead standing and grabbing my blankets.

Tina's breathing stops the moment she hears me move. There's a brief moment of silence as I throw the blankets over her body, adding mine to hers and sliding under the covers. Her body is tense and rigid as I throw an arm around her. She's strong now, so am I, and if it came down to a fight I'm not sure who'd win.

Well. That's not true. I'm a wimp, really, and if it came to a fight I'd sit there and take it, letting her mug me for all of the blankets. But she doesn't know that.

She must be terrified of being left alone. Of being forced to flee into a night filled with monsters. It's an unfair position I've put her in, but surviving the night takes priority.

Minutes pass, and she takes short panicked breaths as we huddle together. Our combined warmth slowly fills the blankets, making things more bearable as we lay in the darkness. I close my eyes and try to ignore it, to remain still and not startle her. If I fall asleep, maybe she'll finally realize I'm harmless.

Eventually, my mind clears and all I can feel is my own soul, and hers. That little ball of light compared to her even smaller one. It grows slowly, picking up speed all the time as it grows. Larger pools refilling faster as aura creates aura. Slowly I begin to push some of mine into hers, little trickles at a time to speed her own recovery.

Like before she gives a small groan, tensing again at the feeling. "What are you doing?" She hisses, going completely rigid.

"Keeping us both warm." I reply calmly, not moving a muscle.

"Not that... That feeling. Why are you doing that?" Her voice is tense, like a taut line ready to snap.

"I'm giving you some of my aura, so you recover faster. I can't control how it feels. Sorry." I try to sound as sincere as possible, I really don't have any alternate intentions. Sure she's cute, in a way, but she's young and thin and dirty. This close, as rude as it is to say, the smell of her is unappetizing to put it lightly. I doubt I'll be much better off in a few days, though.

She shudders, eventually relaxing just slightly as her aura reserves begin to recover. It must make her feel safer, I suppose, despite the embarrassment and anxiety. Her breathing remains ragged, though, and I can hear the soft pants and moans as she lays just a few inches in front of me. It... Does things to me, and she scoots a bit forwards at the realization.

"Sorry... Can't help it." I mutter, feeling my own cheeks color at the sensation.

"Don't." She mutters quietly, almost pleading. "Don't put it in me." The raw helplessness in her voice actually breaks my heart to hear.

"Okay." I mutter back, pulling back a bit further now that the blankets are warmed up enough.

"O-okay?" She murmurs, caution tingeing her voice. She's almost done, her own aura reserves reaching nearly the same level as mine. I've been careful not to reduce mine too much, noting how the more aura I have the faster it recovers, so we're both in fairy good shape.

"Never, unless we both want it." I was raised with morals, after all. "I promise."

"Just like you promise to protect me?" She states with some skepticism, turning slightly in my arms.

"Just like that." I nod, feeling sleep start to claim me.

Silencio Crack (Script)

(Автор: Sol Mark-1)

I will try to writte some crack for Silencio.

For adoption if somebody else would like to make it better.


* * *

Marceau wakes up in a dark room, and notices that she is not alone, there is another person with her dressed like a Jester, and black mask with a smile, but the person looked like it tried to hard to pass as a person.

Marceau: (Where I am?)

Kidnapper: Ok now that you are here Marceau, lets try how efective you for tricking persons about your real gender.

M: (What!)

Then they disappear in a white light and appear in front of a street.

M: (Where are we!?, are you a cape?)

K: No, I used magic, space whale magic.

M: (sigh, you are one of those crazy capes.)

K: Silence would you have prefered Fairy bullshit, or space whale quantum physics bullshit; oh, here comes your target.

Then a very Campy Gay man appeared near Taylor.

CG: Oh my, what a handsome young man, you must be Marceau, that has been really popular these days in the internet, oh see the hour I am going to be late for my "class", bye.

M: (What the fuck!)

K: Mission complete, now bye.

M: (HEY! you idiot return me to Brockton Bay, this moment.)

K: Atch, You should ask nicer "boy", I should punish you.

M: (Fuck you.)

— Then Taylor disappeared in a white light, she returned to Brockton Bay, but..

"Splash"

Taylor was on a bathtub full of water, and heard a yell.

????: Kyaa!, uh Taylor?

Taylor recoignised that voice, turned around, and saw Amy completely naked in front of her with a blush in her face, and a smile; Taylor could not hide her blush, and her smile; then she noticed that she was also naked, meanwhile she was distracted, Amy took the oportunity to get inside of the bathtub, and kiss Taylor on her lips, Taylor returned the kiss, but then the door of the bathroom, Brandish was there, she saw the situation, and hastly closed the door, after she locked the door, Amy began to laugh, and soon Taylor also began to laugh; then Taylor began to kiss Amy again, both of them where happy with each other.

-Meanwhile somewhere in Couldron base.

Contesa acitivated PTV by instict, and told her when to shoot with her handgun, to specific place.

K: Hello how are you — —

PTV interruption: Shoot.

"Bang"

After Contesa got rid of the body, she felt relief she did not want to know.

Shadowing Shadow Stalker

(Автор: Cambrian)

There was a large amount of parahuman porn on the internet, if one knew what places to look in. Even larger than the supply of porn one could find for comic book characters on Earth Aleph, if only because on Earth Bet, super powers were a part of reality.

This in mind, an average looking man settling down for a session of stress relief began to browse the web looking for something new and exciting, but most certainly parahuman in nature. After several minutes of searching, he found a new video entry on one of the easier to navigate websites. Tagged with just what he wanted. Heroine, Captured, Noncon. Smiling he went ahead and got the video up, before clicking the start button.

The video opened, and he almost immediately closed it again. It was rather poor quality of an alleyway and clearly done by an amateur. Still, he always tried to give every new piece a chance, so he settled in and let the scene play out.

A man ran down the alley, panicked and scared. He sported E88 colors, and had the shaven head that so proudly showed off the white complexation of his skin. Behind him came a shadow which coalesced into the Ward known as Shadow Stalker. With an almost contemptuous ease she followed after the thug, almost looking like a predator on the hunt.

She shifted in and out of her shadow form as the thug made use of a gun not visible until now to try to bring her down. As his gun clicked empty and he stared at in horror, she finally brought up one of her crossbows, and put a tranquilizer bolt right through his shoulder. The fight couldn't even really be called a fight, as she snorted and moved in. The thug fell back and moments later was unconscious from whatever concoction she'd gotten him with.

After restraining him with zip ties, she pulled out a cheap looking cell phone and called the police. After refusing to wait for their arrival, she hung up and looked to be thinking about jumping for the nearest roof using her shadow form. That was when the shadows around her seemed to come unnaturally alive, reaching up and grabbing onto her, pulling her down even as she let out an angry shocked scream and struggled, shifting in and out of her shadow form to no effect. A moment later she was gone, pulled away into the shadows. After that, something walked up to where ever the camera was placed, reached for it, and the video went dark.

A moment later the video was back, but showing a different, far darker place. Yet Shadow Stalker was quite visible, struggling against the shadows that held her in place. She was screaming out curse words like they were going out of style, even as the shadows seemed to recognize that they were now being recorded, and began to get more active.

The young heroine was rather helpless as she was stripped of her costume by the Darkness itself, her mask the only thing left to her even as her young nubile dark-skinned body was explored vigorously by the shadows holding onto her. Out of the shadows came more distinct shapes, still colored by black, but suddenly more humanoid. Fingers attached to hands were suddenly on her small breasts, massaging the sensitive flesh and tweaking the nipples in a way that made her body spasm.

A third arm moved along her leg, from the knee up to her hip, trailing across until it suddenly moved to the inside of her thighs, and two fingers began to slowly rub against the weakening teen's cunt. The fight was slowly going out of the girl, though not quite yet, she still put up a token resistance. She only started struggling heatedly again when a distorted voice suddenly spoke out of the darkness and told her she was weak. It elaborated by saying she was the easiest prey it had ever hunted, made to be turned into a fuck toy for the shadows that held her.

That got a definite rise from the girl, as she began screaming angrily again, but her situation was just as hopeless as ever. She didn't even seem capable of shifting in and out of her shadow state anymore, or had already learned it didn't help. As she raged against her hidden attacker, a shadowy appendage very much shaped like a cock replaced the hand on her slit and a moment later she went rigid, her words cut off as the sizable phallus slammed up into her moistened depths.

There wasn't much she could do as the shadows screwed her thoroughly. Her body bounced up and down on the length of shadow plunging in and out of her even as the camera gave an excellent view of her entire front. Her nipples continued to be abused by two of the shadow hands, and the third that had been rubbing her lower lips now focused solely on her clit.

It didn't seem the girl had much sexual endurance, because it was only minutes later that she let out a reluctant shudder, the first of many seemingly forced orgasms. The video itself moved along a bit faster at that point, as she was shown in position after position, every time being relentlessly fucked by the shadows she was restrained by.

Until eventually things came to a close. A spotlight of energy shown down on Shadow Stalker's naked form, even as the shadows retreated from her body, leaving her slick and shivering in a puddle of her own juices. The darkness continued to recede as more and more lights turned on, revealing the young female heroine was lying in the center of an abandoned warehouse. Soon enough there wasn't a shred of darkness to be seen.

That was when the PRT and Protectorate rushed in, Uniformed Grunts and Parahumans before entering the Warehouse from all directions. Armsmaster himself moved slowly to Shadow Stalker's body, even as the heroine herself showed she still had life in her, as she curled in on herself, her body moving into the fetal position. The video ended.

The average man had both eyebrows raised at that point. He'd been so entranced by the whole thing, that he'd even forgotten why he'd been watching it in the first place, tissues forgotten on his deck. Damn, that'd been way better than he was expecting. Almost looked real, the emotion from the main African American actress had really seemed genuine, even if he didn't get a look at her face, and the armor they'd dressed that male actor playing Armsmaster in was amazingly realistic at first glance.

Shaking his head, he shut the web window and then turned off his computer. For some reason he'd just lost the urge for the night, after seeing that.

Inside The Party

(Автор: Reece)

Armsmaster didn't glare. Glaring would be unprofessional, and he was anything but unprofessional. He most certainly didn't glare jealously, because really why would he be jealous of his alternate reality self? The muscles were ridiculous, far too bulky, and the hair? Bah he clearly spent too much time conditioning and not enough time tinkering. If he had spent more time in the lab he might have been wearing something more substantial than the absurd looking codpiece and shoulder pad combo.

So no, Armsmaster didn't glare, because he wasn't jealous. However he would indulge in an aggravated sigh when the his insidiously inefficient alter ego would waggle his eyebrows at Miss Militia and make some off colour pun.

He would sigh even harder when she'd wink at him and make an equally twisted pun right back at him.

But he was letting his thoughts wander too much, instead of focusing on what he wasn't doing, he should be focused on what he was going to be doing: Ramming a giant nano tech spear right up Leviathans big grey arse, claiming eternal dominance in the annals of history as the man who finally put down the Endbringer with the awesome power of technology.

"Good news everyone, I've gotten rid of Leviathan!"

Urgh.

The room exploded into chaos at that particular capes arrival. Though the chaos wasn't really as angry as it should have been considering that the cape had erased the only chance any of them had at proving the inherent superiority of technology over all others and allowing the ascension of the Halberd into annals of the single greatest fucking weapon ever invented by mankind!

No instead the chaos was relieved. You would normally expect people to be dubious about such a bold claim, but ever since the Cape had used a giant golden dildo to turn Scion into Scionette and then use said Dildo on her people had begun to expect the impossible from the Cape.

So instead of the usual grim faced determination that heralded the approach of an Endbringer, it was all smiles, joy and copious booze.

It made him sick. The point of being a Hero was to stand against villainy, to stand against tyranny, to stand against something dammit. How can Heroes be taken seriously if all they're going to stand against is the bargain bin powers wielding by sub-par villains that the new Cape hadn't gotten around to cloning into raging perverts.

"Hey there tall blue and sexy. Wanna help me celebrate over Leviathan being iced?"

Speaking of perverts it would seem Alexandria's clone had found him. Again. The woman was insane, insatiable, and looked about ten years old. What was even more disturbing was her disgusting perverted fetishes. He wouldn't have minded if all she wanted was some normal sex, instead she seemed determined to goad him into the most depraved things she could think of.

"Come on Beardy, come slip off with me and I'll let you skull fuck me."

She rubbed the edge of the empty socket of her left eye (taken violently by Futa-tiger) in what she probably thought was an enticing manner. Armsmaster just felt sick. His gorge began to rise when she started sliding her finger into the gaping hole and moan throatily.

"I can't...I need to wash my hair" Tinker brain to the rescue, The Alexandria clone was far too extreme to find simple shower sex enticing, there's no way in hell she'd carry on if that's all she thought he wanted.

"Ooohhh, you can drown me and fuck me at the same time!" She Squealed. The real Alexandria was far more reserved than this nymphomaniac monstrosity.

"Sorry I just remembered I'm...out of water?" Fuck you Tinker brain. She didn't buy it, but he was thankfully saved from further advances when she spotted alt-Panacea (He refused to call her by that moronic name she had chosen), or rather she spotted the writhing mass of vaguely phallic shaped tentacles and pseudopods that she was sporting as an outfit and flew off to go molest her.

He was left alone to Sul-brood in peace, simply taking in the party going on around him without being disturbed, a rock in the heart of a storm.

"So I was pounding her in her ass, and then all of a sudden her entire back splits open and all these tentacles come out and start pounding me in my ass, at that point I was like 'woah, maybe this isn't some normal fifth grader! Maybe I shouldn't be doing this in the middle of an assembly. '"

On the other hand rocks get moved around all the time, there's even a desert famous for the moving rocks in it. He made like a rock and left Alt Jack Slash to his part fascinated part horrified audience. Outside the air was much cooler and far less hormone soaked, It disturbed him how easily capes gave into temptation and just did what their whims demanded of them, instead of acting responsibly.

"H-Hey you!"

The young ones were the worst, always going on about how they need sleep, they want to see their friends, they haven't seen sunlight in a week. Whine, whine, whine. You try and impart some Tinker wisdom to them and all they do is cry and vomit all over the place. He blamed the lack of home discipline.

"Stop ignoring me!"

Like this brat trying to annoy him, she didn't look older than thirteen with her absurd looking skirt and shirt combo. Who let their child dye their hair grey, or wear solid contacts...or have three eyes.

No.

No he wouldn't have.

"S-stupid sharbearer! Not listening to Leviathan, making her wait to be acknowledged. I didn't want to be in some new body! All I wanted to was to sink this place. N-now I have to party with weak shardbearers when I should be S-smushing you!"

He did. That son of a bitch turned Leviathan into a sick little pervert.

"And now filthy shardbearers are ignoring me!"

He was going to kill that bastard, ram his nano-halberd right down his cunt throat, making his one true opponent into some degenerate, twisted, mockery!

"At least my power still work."

On the other hand there's more prestige in fighting something as strong as leviathan but much harder to hit. He thumped his nano-halberd on.

"A-ah what are you doing with that hard rod!"

Oh yes, lots of prestige. Accolades to be had, they'd throw him a fucking parade

"I'll soak everything if you come near me!"

"I'm gonna ram this down your throat you bitch!"

He leapt.


* * *

Alt Jack Slash slyly made his way over to the rake thin bug girl.

"You know I've never fucked a bug before, Crawler used to be one but we never really got the chance before he became a giant cunt."

The bug girl didn't react, simply staring out the window, Jack took a peak out the corner of his eye. Huh, Armsmaster's finally cut loose, kinky bastard trying to fit such a big tool in such a little girl, he might take a swing at him later if he can't find Sex-Doll. Until then he wanted to hit some Thorax.

"I don't mean he was a bad guy, he literally turned into a giant walk in vagina. Settled down in Boston, has a gang called the 'Cult of the Leaky lips' following his every action, they live in him."

He threw his arm around her shoulders and she stiffened.

"So, do you want to lay the eggs, or are you going to make me do it." He growled huskily.

Her body twitched once, then went still again. Was she offended? He didn't know much about bug anatomy and he was pretty high right know so he may have got some body parts mixed up.

"I'm not actually a bug..."

It was a whisper, but it killed the mood instantly. She was just a girl in a costume, boring and way too Vanilla.

"But I can make a swarm of them lay eggs inside of you and me."

And he was hard again.

Meanwhile Armsmaster had pinned the young girl and was forcing his tool down her throat, much to their mutual delight.

Shubbery

(Автор: Master of Squirrel-fu)

This is my rock, my only anchor. I know it won't last forever, or even very long I know how this song and dance goes. I've done the research, I've read the books, seen the specials, no mater the media for this story there has never been anything that can really be considered a "Happy Ending" for someone in my position. I know exactly what is in store for me soon, and that knowledge doesn't change what will happen in the slightest. Still I don't feel quite so burdened now as I had before.

I had only wanted a bit of relief, just something in my petty little life that I could smile about. True happiness, or salvation was just a pipe dream really, I had wanted it but only in the same way someone might 'want' to become a win the lotto and move to fiji, a meaningless distraction that you don't put much thought into and quickly dismiss, just something you figured you'd enjoy but don't believe you'd ever really get to experience. And when others no longer care about you you start to do the same. That little horrible voice of doubt whispering with every cruelty "Maybe I deserve this." After all, if you didn't wouldn't someone have helped by now? Just some wounded little gazelle waiting to be eaten by a pack of lions, what's the point of struggling?

I just wanted someone to care. Just... something. Anything.

God.

I promised I wouldn't be like them. The... trash of society. Hypocritical probably to lay such judgement on them, but we all have our prejudices, for me it is ironically enough weaklings. Those who've truly given up, who no longer care at all, merely existing and consuming nothing but balls of ugly meat that just fuck, eat, shit, and shove anything they can find into a syringe to inject themselves for their next fix. I didn't want to be like them, looking back I think I already was. I probably still am.

I still have my pride, but what is it worth when it's all I have left?

I wanted something that was mine. Something to give me worth. Anything at all.

I wanted someone to love me. I didn't care who.

He was the first, I had known he didn't care. Known that the only thing he wanted was just a night of satisfaction and nothing more. I'd let him have it, As much as I had known I had hoped so much harder. I can really see why it is considered the greatest evil released from that damned box. A single moment of weakness, a single desperate wish I had sold the last of myself for. And everything just goes crashing down. He had rather nasty when I'd told him, I don't think words had ever cut so deep than in that moment, the physical pain that soon followed didn't really compare. I just remember white and then red, then he was gone for good. I don't miss him.

He was just the first.

The scene had repeated itself a few more times. Men, women, who ever would give me even a second glace was as good as anyone. It was meaningless, it was horrible and disgusting, but it was the only thing I could say I enjoyed anymore. But in the end they all ended, gone for good. I want to think they regret it, that somewhere out there they wished for even a moment they could have chosen me. But that's impossible.

Because they're all dead.

Every. Single. One.

I felt my vindication disturbed by a soft tugging on my pantleg, my youngest trying to gain my attention. I was loath to deny him anything. With a genuine smile, so rare as to be nonexistent away from them, I lifted my little angel up into a hug. He giggles into my bust and returns my affections before I place him back down.

"Did you need something Maxy?" I cooed while ruffling his blonde hair. He looked so much like his father, not surprising really, but that man had been quite a man despite his objectionable beliefs. One of the better ones really, classy if nothing else. Great lay too.

I licked my lips at the memories. Oh yes, Max would be making a certain girl very happy in the future.

Rather than answer he held up his hands to me in presentation, in them laid a crude lumpy mess of metal, oblong and misshapen it bared only a passing similarity to a bird. With a great big grin I gently took it from his hands. The look on his face made my heart soar.

"Thank you, honey it's beautiful," I gave him another hug, "You've made your mother very happy, I'm so proud of you. In fact I think this is so good you deserve a prize!"

Precious moments like this need to be treasured, they'll be gone all to shortly.


* * *

Less then an hour later I tucked the poor dear into his bed for his nap. It was while taking care of a dinner that could probably be counted as a feast that I felt arms wrap themselves around me from behind. I soon found myself lifted up bodily in a crushing embrace and all my hard work nearly ruined. A quick elbow strike had me landing, and I was able to save the food. I'd turned to find a bashful Asian boy, no he was a man by now, standing tall behind me. Kenji, my second was such a dear, as much as he looked like his father his personality was so different, a boisterous little braggart one moment and a shy defensive and easily teased boy the next. What did they call this? Sun Dared or something?

His bashfulness soon turned to fear when I smiled at him. It must make for an odd sight, for as tall as I am I barely reach his shoulders and what broad shoulders they were. And here this giant Asian Herakles stood cowering before a rail thin woman armed only with a wooden spoon smiling at him. Good, he was smart.

I was sure not to chew him out too much, after all nothing had been ruined but he still needed to know when things should and should not be done. Still such a boy...

I gave him a kiss and a hug so he knew he wasn't really in trouble. Only to squeek when he lifted me up in his arms.

"Ah! Honey I still need to finish dinner," I pleaded.

"I think I'd rather have desert first."

With a sigh I gave him another kiss, one he returned greedily his large hands searching a groping my much smaller body. After so long we broke apart.

"Fine, fine, you really act spoiled sometimes," I said. It wouldn't hurt, the stew needed to simmer after all. The thought of denying him anything didn't even register.

No sooner had I turned around to adjust the heat had his hands began roaming again, quickly coming to rest on their favorite location. I thrust my hips out and shoot him an encouraging look over my shoulder. Unneeded it seemed as he was more than eager to please and be pleased, my oldest began to have his way with my body. Hands, so large but so gentle began to kneed my ass and his fingers and tongue playing with my sensitive asshole. I couldn't help the moaning, or really even try to reign it in. I didn't hold back a bit when he entered me fully with just a single thrust.

"So... Impatient," I gasped even as he rutted hard. I couldn't form anymore words after that, both from the breathlessness from his powerful thrusts and from the overwhelming feeling of fulfillment that came from the act. Bent over the the kitchen counter my son was roughly shoving himself into me like a machine piston, holding me down with his weight. It almost felt like I was being taken against my will, and the thought made me come. I could hardly even breath. Every single rut painful but so very very pleasurable. He didn't stop even when plunged himself deeper than any normal thrust to release his hot seed into me, pausing only for a moment before resuming just as hard.

Time seemed to blur, and I returned to reality riding him on the couch with his hands on my hips guiding my grinding hips. I smiled at the adorably looked on his face, completely lost to the pleasure. And with a few last deep grinds I milked him of the last of his not so limitless as he claimed stamina, with a sigh. I still kept grinding a little even as finally began to soften inside me.

The soup was probably ruined by now.

"Gah!"

I jerked away as a felt something cold ride down my spine. On instinct I leaped off Kenta, climbing over him without heed to duck over the opposite side of the couch. At the snickering I rose my head to see what it could have been only to find a black girl holding out a frosty looking bottle of water.

"I thought you might be thirsty," she offered. I eagerly accepted, "I finished dinner too, since you seemed rather preoccupied."

I gave her a hug in gratitude, but when I tried to give her a kiss I found myself blocked off by her hand in my face.

"Nope, dinners about finished so you and the giant need to take a bath," She must have seen something in your face as she quickly continued with, "Separately. From each other, and everyone else."

Taking Glory From Glory Girl

(Автор: Cambrian)

Glory Girl flew at a leisurely pace while her eyes roamed the streets and alleys below her, moving over buildings and looking for some criminal activity to hopefully take the day's frustrations out on. School hadn't been fun today. While she was a smart girl, that didn't mean she was always happy to sit through hours of lecture on things she already knew from her own self-study. It was a relief to get away, don her costume and find some criminal scum to put in their place.

A moment later it seemed she found what she was looking for down a one-way alley, a drug deal in progress that she could interrupt violently. With a grin on her face she landed behind the two as they were negotiating the sale and cleared her throat pointedly. The drug dealer's eyes widened as he took her in and the druggie turned as well, both of them growing terrified quickly, partially from her reputation, partially from the aura that she was purposefully exuding.

She grinned widely and began to speak, only to stop as she saw the eyes of both of the criminals move to behind her. Her instincts screamed at her and she spun around, fists raised defensively as she took in the man slowly walking down the alley. He was in every way plain and non-descript. His clothes were bland, he was muscular but not overly much and he had the sort of face one would forget easily if they didn't know him on a personal level.

"Hello Glory Girl." Even the man's voice sounded bland as he approached. His eyes flicked to the drug dealer and his customer for a moment and this time he spoke to them, "Leave."

Glory Girl bristled at that and turned back to her first targets, "Oh no you don't, you aren't going anywhere you sc-" Her words were cut off abruptly, as a violent force sent her careening head first into a nearby wall and halfway through it. Even as she struggled to right herself she could hear the sounds of feet hitting pavement as the damn criminals took the chance to run. With a growl, she flew up and out of the hole the man created, only to find him floating before her, blocking her path.

She was immediately on the defensive, given the fact that it was now quite clear he had powers. Her fists clenched as she prepared herself for a fight, but that was when he began speaking again.

"I've been looking for you Glory Girl. You'll probably be one of my favorites, once we're done here. Your powers certainly interest me." That was when her aura was suddenly suppressed, and she found herself crashing to the ground under the crushing feeling of awe and fear the man was suddenly exuding. She found herself gasping for breath as he moved closer to her, floating down until he was only a foot or so from her kneeling form.

She took that chance to act, bringing all of the willpower she had to bear to surge to her feet and send a punishing blow to his face with her closed fist. Unfortunately, she found her arm rebounding violently, a jarring feeling that left her feeling like she'd just tried to punch a cement stone... before she got her powers. The man simply grinned at her, catching her arm even as it rebounded and pulling her closer to him.

Then he kissed her, hard on the lips as both of the invisible invincible shields they had disappeared with a pop. She struggled as best she could, but his aura continued its work on her and her defiance began to slip away. The impromptu make out session continued for several minutes before he released her and let her catch her breath. She was dazed and unfocused, panting through abused lips as she tried to collect herself for another attempt at struggling against her attacker.

The man holding her simply chuckled before speaking again, "There's no need to struggle Victoria. There's nothing you can do to stop me. Nor should you want to stop me. After all, what if I went after your family next? Your sister perhaps? With your powers, there's not much she could do to stop me."

Glory Girl shivered violently and only struggled harder before he spoke again, "Or perhaps I let someone of import know about what you've been up to on your patrols. So many near deaths, so many messes cleaned up by Amy on your behalf. I wouldn't even have to screw her, to screw her."

That was when the fight went out of the blonde heroine. She slumped down and the man let her go, once again she was brought to her knees, her head down and voice quiet as she finally responded.

"W-what do you want?" The man grinned at her words even as he began to unbuckle his belt, "I would think that is obvious. Do as I say when I say it, and your family will not suffer for your failings."

It was obvious that Victoria was struggling with herself, but eventually she nodded hesitantly and looked up, only to find a cock inches from her face. One of the man's hands came down to rest partially on her tiara, partially on her hair as he guided her in.

"Suck." He commanded, and she slowly engulfed the head of his length with her mouth. She was inexperienced and not at all eager, but there was something to be said for the situation, as she'd find him easily growing hard in her mouth, his dick growing in girth and size even as she sucked.

"More tongue my dear." He said pleasantly, sighing happily as he felt her swirl her tongue around the tip of his cock, even as he pushed forward and slowly fed more and more of his cock into her willing mouth. As he did so he continued giving her instructions, "Now, place a hand under that cute little skirt of yours and play with yourself. You're going to want to be as wet as possible for what comes next Victoria."

The superheroine shuddered in humiliation but did as he said, a hand slipping under her skirt and beneath the shorts she wore to protect her modesty, rubbing two fingers slowly against her slit. To her utter shame she found herself growing wet easily, the man's awe aura and her own ministrations working together in this instance.

His hand in her hair was stroking it now, petting her as she worked on his cock with her mouth, making her whimper a bit around his member. It wasn't long before he was pushing in and out of her mouth though, and a few minutes after that he pulled back, letting her get a breath of fresh air, even as he suddenly coated her face with his release, forcing her to flinch away and close her eyes.

Still holding onto her hair, he pulled her up from the ground, and a moment later they were both floating as he directed her towards a nearby wall and pushed her up against it face first, smirking as she groaned, her shield still not active as he pressed her up against the unforgiving bricks. A moment later his free hand moved down to her shapely ass and under her short skirt, before easily tearing away the shorts and panties that protected her privates. He felt along her slit, smirking as he found more secretions than he expected.

Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, "Slut. Enjoying this aren't you?" She shook her head as much as she could, even as he pushed two of his fingers into her ready cunt. "Oh yes you are... there's no need to lie to me." Shivering with a combination of disgust and pleasure, she let out another whimper as his fingers pulled free and were replaced by the tip of his cock, still quite hard despite the amount of cum on her face.

Even as he pushed slowly in, the fingers that had just been inside her moved up to her mouth, pushing against her lips until she opened her mouth, forced to suck her own juices off. With that he began to fuck her in long slow strokes, grunting in pleasure as they both floated ten feet off the ground. Soon enough she found herself moaning in response, his cock felt more than amazing, and the sex while rough, was gentler than she'd ever expected from rape.

He seemed to enjoy her confusion and her distress, even as he pulled her head to the side using the grip he head on her hair, only to plant light kisses up and down her neck. His other hand moved to circle her waist, giving him a better position to thrust up into her delicious young body. By the time she realized what he was doing, why he was going so slow, it was too late as she found herself releasing a throaty cry and climaxing hard on his thick cock.

A chuckle was all she heard in response, only serving to further her humiliation. This continued on, his mouth on her exposed skin, his hands holding her in place, and his cock forcing its way into her in a way that seemed to hit all of her buttons, leaving her moaning like a wanton whore, until finally with a growl and a grunt he pushed deeper into her, and she felt his seed splash against the inside of her womb. She let out a defeated sob at that, even as he pulled her from the wall and floated them both to the ground.

He pulled out of her and let go of her hair and waist, letting her sink to the ground in a crumpled pile. With a satisified smirk, he zipped himself up and took a burner phone from his pocket, only to reach down and place it in her hand.

"Thank you for your cooperation Victoria Dallon. I can only hope your sister proves to be as delectable."

With that he was gone, leaving Victoria to shudder as she lay on the unforgiving ground. With shaking fingers she punched in a phone number that she knew well and waited as the dial tone played. Eventually, someone picked up and she spoke before they could, knowing exactly who it was.

"D-dean... I need you."


* * *

A/N 2: This was my attempt at incorporating the whole blackmail aspect that was suggested. He could have just forced himself on her, but there's something to be said about forcing her to help in her own humiliation.

Squealer isn't flowing well at all. I was thinking about using her in some sort of story involving prostitution, but when I went and researched her, I just couldn't figure out WHY the Trump I'm using as my main character would want to go for her. She's described as trashy dressing as trashy... which isn't appealing to anyone not on the cocktail of drugs I'm sure Skidmark was on constantly. So suggestions are welcome regarding Squealer, because I do still want to write something with her, but don't really know what to do with her.

Bakuda on the other hand, I'm very confident about the plot I have for her. Considering writing her next, dunno if that'll happen later tonight or tomorrow though. We'll see.

As always, criticism is welcome, any corrections on my grammar or spelling are welcome, and I'm always happy to hear your guys' thoughts and suggestions.

EDIT: Actually Amy might be next. Trump is gonna need her power for my plans involving Bakuda.

Danny The Pimp vs. Victoria Dallon

(Автор: Reece)

Danny Hebert is a nice guy. He should get some reward, so here's him fucking Victoria Dallon.


* * *

Danny smiled thinly at the headline sitting on his desk. "Winslow slammed by victims" The article inside was two pages long, with quotes from bullied victims, pictures of the hell his daughter had been forced into and the names of the teachers that had done nothing to stop and had subsequently been sacked. Forty grand from a lucky dip card certainly went a long way towards paying for lawyer expenses, but the money they had spent was nothing compared to what their lawyer — Carol Dallon — had let loose on Winslow.

She had taken their case when someone had tipped him off that Taylor was being bullied, and that the person doing it was a Ward of all people, while he couldn't reveal the exact identity to her without breaking enough laws to see him behind bars for a long time, he did give enough info to set her on a path that forced the PRT itself to admit that Sophia Hess was a nasty little psychopath; the out of court settlement to not implicate a Ward in what had been going on at Winslow was significantly more than forty grand; and the satisfaction he gleaned from finally being able to tell Taylor that the bullying was over infinitely more than the money.

She had even made some new friends, getting along well with Glory Girl of all people, they had bonded over what he assumed was a mutual hatred of Sophia, Glory Girl from knowing her in costume, and Taylor from knowing her outside of costume.

Since the school was closed down from the sheer weight of students admitting to being bullied or attacked at one point in the school, either by Sophia's little clique or by other nastier groups; Taylor was either spending her time around the office or at home. Today she was in his office, Glory Girl sat next to her, draped across the sofa in a sort of half lying down, half sitting position. Taylor was cross legged and they were chatting about boys.

'It's nice to see her acting like a girl her age should' he thought happily, and it truly was, ever since she had been pulled from the school Taylor had regained some of her previous life, she was even wearing one of her old summer skirts rather than the faded jeans she normally went with. The hoody was still on but Danny suspected that was more of a teenager thing than anything else.

"...No don't!" Taylor shouted, laughing as she did so. Danny looked away from the paper to the two girls, both of which were looking at him and grinning.

"Er...yes?" He asked. Glory Girl grinned wider.

"You're a guy right Mr. Hebert?" She asked rhetorically, he was nearly tempted to tell he no just to see how she'd react.

"Yeah." He drawled in a 'duh' tone of voice.

"Then do you think what Dean did is normal?" She asked.

'Oh god girl talk' He thought grumpily. 'Still it beats paperwork'

"I dunno, what did he do?" he asked, wondering if he was heading into dangerous territory.

"He broke up with me for the fifth time, and now he wants to get back together...but I saw him talking with another girl, and now he's saying we should have 'more time apart'. Taylor thinks that's just what guys do." She bobbed her head at Taylor as she talked and the dark haired girl squawked indignantly.

"Not all guys!" She protested.

"She's right." he said. "Not all guys, the good ones shouldn't...sorry Victoria but your boyfriend doesn't sound like a good one." Danny shrugged apologetically but Vicky just laughed and smiled at him widely.

"Thanks Mr. Hebert. But what about you?" She asked, twirling a finger through her hair. Danny noticed Taylor shoot her a strange look but couldn't decipher it himself.

"What do you mean?" he asked her back. She shuffled in her seat, leaning back slightly and stretching her legs.

"Would you be the good boyfriend type?" She asked in a way that Danny would peg as coquettish if he wasn't sure she was joking around. 'Oh yeah, definitely in the danger zone, two bored teenagers messing with me.' He thought.

"Ha, well of course I'm a good guy." He said jokingly, grinning at Taylor and Vicky, the former wasn't even looking at him, but instead regarding Vicky with furrowed brows. Vicky was still staring at Danny with a thoughtful smile.

"Hey Vicky weren't we supposed to be meeting Amy about now?" Taylor asked, tugging on the blonde heroes arm. Glory Girl started and quickly checked the clock. Swearing under breath when she realised that they were going to be late.

"Oh crap, you're right. See you Danny!" She shouted to him as she scooped up Taylor and carried her flying out the window. Danny gave them a nervous wave as they left, he didn't really like it when Taylor flew. The he looked back at his paperwork in annoyance, out of frying pan and into the fire.

"I hate writing."


* * *

"I'm a cape dad." The words nearly stopped his heart. His daughter was a parahuman, and not just any parahuman; she was the rogue Fleabomb. His little girl was standing in the kitchen, draped in a white cloak and hood, with a haze of glowing bugs drifting around her head. His entire world was coming down, everything had been going so well 'Which is probably why this had happened' he thought unhappily.

"Taylor...why? You...You?" He stumbled over the words, making a jerky gesture with his free hand, the other having planted itself on the tabletop to steady himself.

She nodded slowly and he could see how much telling him must have pained her. She reached out to him, likely to try and grab his hand, or simply to make contact, he recoiled, recalling the news clip of her bugs detonating like bombs in the fight with the Wards. Taylor pulled her hand back, shrinking in on herself.

"Was this why you weren't in the shelter with me?" He asked, desperately wishing for her to deny it, to tell him she'd triggered after Leviathan, and didn't go out and try to fight the Endbringer. She nodded and he exploded.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed, slamming his hand on the tabletop, barely aware of her flinching in response. "What is wrong with you! You could have been killed." He was shouting, loudly, and his hand hurt from where he'd hit the table.

"Please Dad, I'm good at this, I can help people. Please just let me be good at this, let me do this." She pleaded with him, he could hear that she as nearly in tears. He reached out to try and grab her, to hug her or shake her out of the insanity she'd been overcome with he didn't know. Taylor let out a sharp cry and her bugs light flicked from red to blue, Danny realised what was about to happen far too late to stop it. Taylor vanished in a flash of aqua light and he was left alone in the kitchen.

The radio blared in the background accompanying the pitter patter of rain on the windows.

'The PRT has issued an official statement confirming that the Slaughterhouse Nine are in Brockton Bay, but that Shatterbird has been killed before she could cause the widespread destruction she is famous for.'

"Oh god Taylor." He whispered to the air.


* * *

"Bleh, how can you drink this stuff?" Victoria gagged at the first swig of his beer and put it back down on the table. Danny just laughed slightly and took another pull on his bottle.

"It tastes better after the first few mouthfuls." He said; the blonde heroine just sniffed haughtily, but still took another sip of her drink, grimacing but not complaining.

"It's nice that you let me even try some of this stuff. Dean always freaked out whenever I'd try and order it on a date. Drinking it around Amy would be waaaay to weird; Mom would have a fit if she caught me with some..." She trailed off towards the end, the memories of the past week still painfully fresh. Danny was almost tempted to stay silent and let her stew, he was never any good at comforting people. But ironically it was the memories of the past week that caused him to at least try; the thought of Victoria feeling how Taylor did was too much for him.

"Bit of a let down eh? I could pretend to tell you off if it'd make you feel more normal?" He said, trying to inject some levity into the suddenly sombre atmosphere. It seemed to work as she laughed slightly and smiled at him.

"Nah I'm good. I get told off enough at home, no need for you to start." He grinned at that and looked back over at the television. Vicky had been popping over near enough every other day since the Slaughterhouse Nine had been chased off. He wagered that she visited for the same reason he didn't tell her to stop: They both felt guilty over their perceived uselessness, Victoria over Amy running away and him over being unable to do anything about Taylor catatonic state beyond simply sitting by her in the hospital.

He wasn't really watching what was on the TV, it was a re-run of some old reality show. Vicky had picked up an older copy of the TV guide and was thumbing through it blankly, unbeknownst to him she'd shoot him a speculative look every so often. This lasted for five minutes before she seemingly found something interesting in the magazine and looked at Danny.

"Hey...Danny can I put something else on? I mean if you're not watching this?" She asked, oddly nervous. He shrugged and went to toss the remote to her ignoring the odd use of his first name, she waved it off and walked over to take it from his hand directly, he held it out for her as she crossed the short space between them. Instead of taking the remote however she instead leant down and put her hand on his face. He startled at the touch and met her eyes questioningly, opening his mouth to protest the personal space breach he was stopped from talking by her closing the space between their faces and pressing her lips against his.

In the space of a second his senses were overloaded, her smell filled his nostrils, a watery perfumed scent that shamefully set his blood aflame, the feeling of her hands running across his shoulders and the taste of her lip gloss on his mouth. He took in a single shaky breath and then she pulled away. Cheeks flushed she sat down next to him, tugging the remote from his hands and refusing to meet his eyes.

After a minute of awkward silence he finally regained his voice, and tried for a stern tone, it came out much higher pitched than he would have liked.

"Victoria...what you did..." He started, but she cut him off.

"I really like you Danny, you're kind, and sweet and the way you treat Taylor is wonderful...can we just, just not tell anyone?" She turned her body to face him, tucking her legs underneath her and meeting his eyes. Danny licked his lips nervously, she smiled and he got the feeling she'd interpreted it the wrong way. He was proven right when she floated into the air over to him and kissed him again. This time it was much shorter than before. He pushed against her shoulders and she backed off with a confused expression.

"Victoria, please. You're a lot younger than me...It's not right." He said, breathing shakily. She looked down and back up at him through her eyelashes, and he could see the faint wet glisten that signalled she was tearing up 'Oh shit' He thought, angry at himself for making a teenager cry over what probably just a silly crush.

"Danny. I think I love you." She said, surprising the hell out of him. Teenagers did not say that to men his age, ever. He replied without thinking.

"It's probably just a crush."

She huffed angrily and flew to the door.

"I know what a crush is, and this isn't a fucking crush." The door slammed on the way out, rattling the shelves and leaving him dumbfounded and slightly afraid that she might tell someone.

He woke up to his phone buzzing. He unlocked it and winced at the light stinging his eyes. Victoria had text him, he was half expecting an expletive filled rant after what had happened two days ago, and the strop that she'd left in, instead she had simply said.

'can i come in plz???'

Danny started when he spotted her outside his balcony window, one arm clutching the other; she was drenched from the rain and had a deeply downtrodden look about her. Despite her appearance he was still wary opening the door, remembering too well what happened the last time she was alone in his house. He still had a heart though, and the look of utter hopelessness on her face drove him to unlatch the large window and let her in. Surprisingly she was soaked, the rain hadn't simply dripped off of her, he thought that he forcefield would have stopped her from getting wet. Still he gave her a blanket to cover herself up with and try to get warm and moved her onto the sofa in the living room, settling down into his old armchair and prepared to go to sleep in it.

When Taylor had had a bad day at school she'd sometimes lie on the couch and watch films, he'd join her in the chair and they'd simply drift off to sleep at their own pace, when they've moved into the new house they'd taken the couch with them, and he had automatically assumed the same sort of position for Vicky, the heating was on low, just enough to be slightly chilly, but not enough that the blanket he'd given her would be too stifling. he closed his eyes and got comfortable, listening to the rain outside.

He could hear her shifting around on the sofa, but he didn't open his eyes. She was probably just getting comfortable; he didn't want to pry into whatever was going on with her life, especially with what happened the last time they had an actual heart to heart. After a minute she seemed to settle down, and Danny was just about to let himself drift off to sleep when without warning a weight settled onto his lap. His eyes snapped open and he was greeted to the sight of Victoria sitting on him, legs either side of his and hands pressing into his abdomen.

She had taken off her dress and boots 'The noise' Danny realised numbly. All she had left on her were her bra and shorts. The former clung to chest, still slightly damp, and he could feel the heat from the latter through his pyjamas. He eyes were downcast and wouldn't meet his own.

"Vicky..." He began lowly, she cut him off, whispering desperately.

"Please...please don't tell me no. Deans gone, Amy's left me, Mom hates me; please just let me be good at this, let me " Her hands came up and clutched at his top, holding on tight enough to whiten her knuckles. "Let me just be good at this. Please."

Whatever he was going to say died in his throat at the raw need he heard in her voice. Her unknowingly echoing Taylors request before she ran away made it impossible for him to do anything but remain silent. He licked his suddenly dry lips

He reached around and an unclasped her bra, managing to get the hooks apart despite his trembling fingers. 'I'm going to make love to a girl as young as Taylor' he thought with a mixture of shame and arousal; he was about to fulfil the fantasy of many, many men and despite how much his brain told him this was wrong, he was still feeling more aroused than he had since Annette, possibly even more so. Victoria was much younger than his late wife and with a much fuller figure; that knowledge made him feel even worse about what he was doing.

He pulled the bra away from her chest exposing her breasts and puffy nipples. Their tips were hardened, from cold or arousal he couldn't tell. Victoria let go of his top and let the straps of her bra slip over his hands, she took it from him and tossed it behind the armchair with a slight flick of the wrist. Then she took his hands — much larger than her own — and pressed them against her chest. She arched her back and trilled out a shuddering 'Oh' when his fingers curled, clutching at her pale skin. Her powerful legs squeezed his tights and she squirmed as he began to gently rub around her nipples; refraining from touching the pink nubs. Her hands clung to his wrists and kept trying to push them harder against her chest.

He let his writhe for a little while longer, taking his time in getting into the feel of what she enjoyed; he took note of how her breathing grew heavier and her moans changed from soft trills to needy, drawn out whines. Only when he was sure she was going to just force him to touch her nipples did her press both his thumbs against them. Undulating them firmly she gasped out a sharp moan and her hands flew to his head, one resting on his neck the other in his thinning hair. She didn't allow him the luxury of time as before. She pushed his head insistently to her chest and he capitulated easily, latching onto her achingly hard nub and suckling heavily. She was nearly dry humping his legs now, rising and falling rapidly in his lap. He ran his now free hand down her side, across her belly and up her back. Letting her feel him all over her body, every inch of flawless skin he passed over erupted in a wake of goosebumps.

"Harder. Be harder with my tits, ah, ah."

He looked up from her breast; she was panting heavily, and he could see a flash of her pink tongue every so often, her eyes were hooded and filled with a dark heaviness that made his cock go even harder than it already was in his pants. Obeying her panted command he kept his eyes locked with hers and pressed his canine gently into her nipple. She threw her head back and groaned, he took the opportunity to run his hand up across her neck and then tangle it into her hair. Directing her view back down to him he pushed a the nipple not in his mouth with his nail, dragging it lightly across the sensitive pink flesh. She scrunched her eyes shut and wildly shook her head as he did so, his hand came away from her hair, despite being smaller than him her shaking could very well break his fingers if he wasn't careful.

When her writing didn't stop he pulled away from her nipples, letting them slip from his mouth and hands. She stopped shaking and met his eyes again, pulling her hands away from his head and hair she grabbed the sides of her shorts and pulled. They came apart in the middle with a harsh ripping sound, she tossed the ruined garment in the same direction as the shorts, now he could see the thick lips of her vagina pressing against the nearly see through fabric of her panties. Those two were torn and tossed away; she was completely naked now. He had a nude, blonde sixteen year old dry humping his lap with his spit drying on one of her breasts. He was going to hell.

She grabbed his pyjama bottoms and with a surprising amount of gentleness tugged them down to his mid thigh, lifting her own legs to do so. He was wearing thing boxers underneath, she deftly unbuttoned them, and it was his turn to groan when her slim fingers grasped at his cock, pulling it through the hole in his boxers. She examined him with hooded eyes for a moment, staring unblinking at his member, squeezing and tugging lightly, causing his hips to buck jerkily and forcing hissed moans from him. Then she looked up and smiled wickedly. Rising up over him she moved one hand away from his rock hard dick and pushed it into his hair. The other hand slid down to the base and encircled it, holding it steady.

She leant forwards and captured his lips, completely blocking his view with her mess of blonde hair before he shut his eyes on instinct. Then he could feel her tongue press against the tip of his own, flirtatiously darting into his mouth before pulling back, he pushed his tongue into her mouth, wanting to keep going, but his thoughts went blank the moment his tongue passed her lips. She had flexed her hips and pushed him inside her, using one hand to hold him steady the tip of his cock was held in her folds, his tongue stopped moving and he tried bucking, but her hand around his base stopped him from pushing upwards. Again her tongue pressed against his, for a split second and then pulled back, again he tried following, and again he stopped, each time he moved into her mouth she pushed down; taking more of him inside her hot, slick depths.

He got the message. His hands came up and cupped her breasts, pushing his thumbs against her nipples roughly he moved them in slow, but heavy circles, and pushed his tongue slowly into her mouth, sliding over her teeth and pressing firmly into her own tongue. She pushed down insistently with her hips, letting go off his base as he went as deep as he could go, her soaked crotch flush with his boxers and her ass resting on his bare thighs. They pulled away from the kiss

"Oh fuck" They both said at the same time, her airy trill drowned out by his throaty growl.

Then they both grunted when she began to rise, her insides pulling at him, rippling and squeezing around his cock. Hers clasped each other behind his neck and pulled him into a series of rapid fire kisses, starting and ending one every time he bottomed out inside her. The room was filled with the sloppy sounds of kissing and flesh slapping together. He could feel the warm trickle of her juices running down his ass and soaking into the armchairs cushion. Their tempo was steady and strong, Victoria had started to moan throatily at some point, but Danny couldn't tell when, likely the same unknown time he'd begun squeezing her breasts and huskily whispering her name.

Without warning Victoria's moans suddenly spiked in pitch, turning into full blown shrieks, her entire body locked up and her clasped hands pulled Danny's head into the crook of her neck, where he obediently began kissing. Her vagina clenched and loosened rapidly and his lap became even wetter than before. It felt like an oil wrapped fist was squeezing his cock and from the pressure building in his base he knew he was close as well.

'Oh shit I'm not wearing a condom' he realised with a start, wanting to pull out but loathing the thought of stopping fucking Vicky for even a second.

Victoria somehow sensed his dilemma because she stopped crying and held him tighter, kissing his ear and whispering into it.

"Finish in me. I want you to get me pregnant."

Her words filled him with shock and he somehow found himself getting even harder, and pumping upwards faster, as though his body wanted to plant the seed as deep as possible. Seconds later he did just that, on the apex of his out stroke his hips jerked without his input and he grabbed her waist, pushing into her body as deep as he could. And then he came, crying out an unintelligible noise of pleasure. She lay against his chest as he softened inside of her. They simply relaxed in the afterglow. Surprising himself Danny couldn't bring himself to care that what they had done was blatantly illegal and immoral. Instead he stoked along her back and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Come on." He whispered in her ear. "It's cold, lets go to bed."

Victoria smiled up at him though her lashes and kissed him lightly.

"Love you."

Strange Device

(Автор: Sol Mark-1)

Summer Camp.

Taylor Hebert was sleeping in one of the camp cabins, but a sensation woke her up, then she heard a voice.

"Come Taylor Hebert."

She normally would ignore the voice, but she could not ignore it, she began to walk to the entrance of the cabin, she remembered that the door was locked, but now it seemed that the lock was broken, and she exited the cabin, she also noticed that she could see a lot better in the night, then she heard the voice again.

"Come Taylor Hebert."

Taylor began to walk to the forest, she began to notice that she could not ignore the voice, and she could not control most of her body, she began to be scarred, but she could not talk, the voice spoke again.

"Now that you are here try to find, the objects that are hidden around here, the objects are gifts for you."

Taylor tried to leave but her body would not let her go back to the cabin, so she began to look maybe the gifts are not bad, and after several minutes she found a pretty bottle that was made of a strange glass, and the most beautiful object was a broken piece of a red gem that had a part of a figure inside, if what her dad and mom Taylor, in that moment she felt sadness, she recovered after a few moments, and remembered that the gem was a ruby those gem were expensive she could help her dad with the money, she was very happy, and decided to take the items, she didn't noticed that the gem fragment began to react to Taylor, then a noise brought her back to reality.

-Optional part.

"Hello little girl, what are you doing alone in the forest, and what is that thing you are caring?" a masculine voice spoke to Taylor

Taylor turned around and saw a fat man she did not recognized the man from the camp workers, he seemed weird, his smile seemed completely false, and deep inside Taylor felt disgust for the man, before she could answer the man grabbed her left arm, and pressed really hard, she answered with a kick to the man groin, the man just fall to his knees, she began to run, but she felt a strong force pulling her hair, and receiving a punch to her face wish dropped her to the ground.

"You shouldn't have kicked me little girl." the man began to ripping Taylor shirt, he was making a cruel smile, he also covered her mouth.

"You want to live girl? Then use your instincts."

Taylor began to struggle, and began to apply force to the fragment, the fragment reacted, she also began to have a vision of two beings, but it was interrupted by the voice.

"Fight, concentrate, survive little girl."

Taylor fought back.

"AHHHH!, my hand!"

Taylor just throwed another fireball to the man killing him, then Taylor just screamed, and cried.

"Enjoy your gifts girl, don't forget the bottle, and the fragment; also a last tip always suspect of easy gifts."


* * *

In Brockton Bay Daniel Hebert was waking up from a nightmare, he was holding a dagger, he dreamed that something happened to Taylor, he went back to sleep, the dagger disappeared.

In the basement of the Heberts family a broken silver armor was fixing itself.


* * *

Here is where I end the snip sorry.

Now the situation is ugly if you added the accidental murder she could be forced to join the Wards, also she now has an impulse to collect the pieces of the Crests, "magical" Talismans, she also can make spells, but everyone assume that it is part of her powers, the worse problem for her is that she has in her transformations some demonical aspects so it is normal that religious nutjobs may want to attack her.

Taylor looks like Lilith from Darkstalkers in her transformation without crests.

There could be a cape who uses weapons from Ghouls & Ghosts

You could add new Crests.

You are free to improve the Promp.


* * *

Another idea.

In a road not normally used in the mountains, the Hebert Family was traveling, the family was a happy one, but right now the family was arguing.

A: Danny I think is better if we send Taylor to Arcadia.

D: We had this discussion before Annete, there is not enough money, and I think it is a bad idea that Taylor skips school years, she may be bullied, lets not ruin this trip Annete, tomorrow we can discuss.

A: Little owl what do you have there?

T: Oh this a handsome blond man gave this to me.

Taylor showed Annete the thing.

A: Mmmm..., Taylor have you heard is not a good idea to accept strange gifts, from strangers, you don't know what it does, what if it is dangerous.

D: Your mom is right, Taylor.

T: Ok mommy, ok daddy.

A: Danny watch out!

"Crash!"

Something crashed with the Heberts car, and make them crash outside the road, they ended losing conscience.

But the thing activated.

And it began to move directly at Taylor, and began to enter her mouth, then there was a primal yell that managed to woke up her parents.

-In a restaurant a Blond man began to speak to himself.

????: Interesting so soon, well little girl expect to recive visits, from me, and my competition, hope you enjoy your gift, I know it was your work.

????: This time it was not my work fallen angel, niether of my Lord.

Then a man in a red suit, and in a weelchair spoke.

????: I think it may have been something to do with the humans, what was your aim in giving something like that to child?

????: She will need it.

and the blond man leaves the restaurant.

????: I will also leave, human be careful, the worst enemies are the ones that hide with your firends, and family.

That pressence also leaves the restaurant.

????: Then I will have the need to present myself to the little girl, but first.

The man took a cellphone, called 911, before he left the restaurant, when he was outside he summoned a Pixie.

????: Go help this girl, Pixie.

Pixie: Ok.


* * *

Spoiler: Crossover

Worm/Shin Megami Tensei Nocturne.

In a Family Way

(Автор: volantredx)

'Weird,' Vicky decided. 'Was a subjective concept.'

Ask her six weeks ago and she would have said seeing her mom and sister simle over breakfast was weird. Now? She was just glad they weren't making out. Or having Amy sit on mom's lap to eat. They did that once. It would have been cute if it was literally any two other people. Today they were gratefully simply sitting and eating, and shooting glances at each other, cute smiles on their faces.

After a particularly long glance that must have communicated something, because her mom cleared her throat, and turned to face Vicky. "Victoria, Amy and I have something important to tell you. It might, no it will change things around here."

"You guys gonna do it with the door open?" Vicky teased cutting another piece of her waffle. "Because given how thin the walls are that's the only way I'd know more than I do already."

"I'm pregnant," Amy said. Vicky's fork clattered to her plate.

"WHAT?!?!"

"Victoria, lower you voice."

"Buh, but how? When? Who?" Vicky's head whipped between her mom and sister in confusion.

"Well to answer in reverse, Carol, about a week ago. As for the how..." Amy trailed off and shoot a look at their mom, who blushed and looked down at her plate. "Let's just say that life finds a way."

"No, fuck that, you're both girls. Mom couldn't have knocked you up." Was it just Vicky or was it harder to breath all of the sudden?

"Fine, let's just say that I can make so mom is less of a girl. I could go into detail if you want but given how you normally don't want to talk about it..."

Vicky just made a face. She really, really didn't need to know that.

"Victoria, I know this is going to be a big adjustment."

"HA! No moving to a new house is a big adjustment, going to college is a big adjustment. Finding out your sister gave your mom a magic dick to make a baby with is...I don't even know what you'd call that."

"Victoria!" Her mom scolded. "There is no need to be crass."

"This from Miss 'fuck-me-harder-nurse'? Paper thin walls mom."

Her mom blushed deeply, looking away from Vicky. "Yes, well, that umm time and place is all."

Vicky rolled her eyes, she'll count that as a win.

"Please don't hate us." Amy's soft voice shocked Vicky.

"What?"

"I know you don't like me and mo-Carol being together. I get it. It's super weird, but I'm happy, and I want this baby, but I don't think I could handle it if you hated us."

"I don't," Vicky protested making a point to meet both of their eyes. "You're right, it's weird for me, but after dad, and all that happened after...you guys seem happy. That's the important thing. You guys are my family. A little screwed up and a little...closer than I'd think is normal, but my family nonetheless. I love you guys, and I'll love my new...sister. All I ask is two things."

"Name them."

"First, I want to be there when you tell aunt Sarah. I want to see the look on her face." They looked at each other and nodded. "Two can you guys please, please try and keep it down? Or maybe look into ball gags? I really don't need to know how much fun you're having at night." 'Especially since I haven't gotten laid seen Dean passed.'

"We'll try and keep that in mind" Amy promised flushing red.

"Good," Vicky pulled them both into a hug. Weird was definitely a subjective concept.

Trouble In The Family

(Автор: Mr_John)

"Yeah, and you may want to start knocking on your cousins doors before you enter. They're taking family bonding to the next level."

For a moment there was silence. I stared at Tattletale. Tattletale looked at me. Skitter stood in place quietly, holding my squirming sister-who was blushing and looking contemplative?

"Nope. Fuck this. I'm done." And with that, I turned right around and marched for the exit.

"Wait! Vicky! Don't-" I whirled, one finger coming out to point at Amy accusingly.

"No. Don't even try this shit. I am fucking done with this crap. Dad's run off with his gay lover, my cousins are screwing each-other, and I have to listen to you get rammed into the mattress every! Single! Night! 'Oh, Carol, more! Please ram me harder! Vicky doesn't need to sleep, these paper-thin walls were a great idea! Yeah!' Fuck, after some of the shit I heard, I bet you're getting off on being held by a cape with that kind of costume!"

Amy closed her mouth and glanced away, but the intense blush on her cheeks was answer enough. Skitter looked down, stared at the fearful-yet-hopeful face of my baby sister, and said "Yeah, I can't take this either."

And let Amy go.

Then she started to join me on my march towards the exit. It took a few seconds of gaping to realize that yes, she was serious.

"Hey, I'm Skitter. It turns out that two of my teammates regularly have threesomes with the little sister of one of them, Lisa really likes to talk down to people and doesn't have the decency to keep her masturbation private, my dad is a weapons fetishest and has this weird love-triangle thing going on with Miss Militia and Bakuda, my mom was secretly Lustrom's gay lover and Lustrom is, and I quote, "Just waiting for your daughter to grow up, Annette, she looks like she'll be a really fierce kitty in the sack! Rowr!" Oh, and my high school tormentors really just wanted me to man the fuck up and dominate them. For a literal value of 'man the fuck up', given all the fake mustaches I find slid into my backpack and locker."

Then she stuck out her hand to shake. I stared at her, then her hand. Finally, with a growing smile, I took it, and used it to pull my new best— and more importantly, sane— friend into a shoulder-hug. Then I steered us towards the exit.

"So, how do you feel about dinners that don't end with some sort of dramatic revelation or family members very nearly having sex on the table?"

"I don't get them nearly enough to have a solid opinion, but that sounds nice. Have you ever managed to date someone who didn't turn out to secretly be your long-lost brother, sister, secretly a cape, secretly a Case 53 or an Endbringer?"

"Oh man, I wish. Turns out Dean was a pedophile, and he could never quite get over my chest, so he ended up telling me that he could no longer deny his true self before prancing off into the sunset with Missy. Who had a whip."

As the two chatted on their way out the bank door, they left Panacea and Tattletale behind. They coughed and glanced at each-other. The silence was extremely awkward.

"....Want me to tie you up and taunt you with all of the horrible secrets of your family and degrade you for being so deviant as to have sex with your adopted mother?"

"Oh god yes."

We All Become (Transistor)

(Автор: Mr_John)

"You know, there's something incredibly wrong with the girl who wants to be a hero getting the sword that kills Parahumans and makes a weapon out of their powers, right?"

I sighed. The rain was pouring hard, and my jacket was soaked nearly clear through. Only the weather and the late night kept anyone from noticing the blue glow coming from the mouth of the alley I was hiding in, crouched under a fire escape for the limited escape from the water.

"I mean, come on, there had to be something more fitting out there somewhere. I'm sorry you had to be stuck with me, Tay." I frowned and knocked sharply on the flat of the blade, right over the red 'eye.'

"Hey! I'll stop it with the bad feeling stuff if you don't tap the glass. It echoes, Tay." Despite myself, I couldn't hold in the grin. It only lasted for a second before a gust of wind slapped me in the face, sending a shiver through my bones. I could almost hear my teeth chattering, and I hugged the giant glowing blade closer to myself, both for the protection from the wind and the feeling of comfort it gave.

"...I'm gonna try something, okay? Don't freak out." And with that, the sword gleamed. For a moment, the feeling of red and power washed over me.

Then the the sword began to glow. It grew warm, and my shivers slowly died away. I patted it, before deciding that just a pat was far too little to show my appreciation. I leaned down and laid a gentle kiss against the cross guard, my lips coming away warmer for the contact.

"You're welcome, Tay. I'll keep this up all night, and warn you if anybody comes by. In the morning, you can leave me here and go find some food. We'll get out of town the next night, alright?"

Smiling, I shook my head. A smooth chuckle came from the sword.

"Still determined to stay here and make a difference, huh? You remind me a lot of another girl, Tay. She refused to give up, too."

I nodded once, still smiling— right up until a jaw-cracking yawn escaped my throat. I blinked a few times; with the warmth, the alley didn't seem so bad. I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

"It's okay to rest, Tay. I'll keep you safe, don't worry. Here, I know what'll help; I'll sing you to sleep." The sound of a sword clearing it's throat seemed like a good riddle question, but in fact it just sounded like a regular guy clearing his throat.

"When you speak I hear silence

Every word a defiance

I can hear, oh, I can hear"

The smooth rumble echoing up from beneath my cheek was soothing. I closed my eyes for a moment, just to better listen to the performance.

"Think I'll go where it suits me

Moving out to the country

With everyone, oh, everyone

Before we all become one"

It isn't the best lullaby, but the gentle tone of the voice was soothing anyway.

"You tell yourself that you're lucky

Lying down never struck me

As something fun, oh, any fun"

And so I drift off to sleep in the rain, curled up around a glowing blue sword in a dirty alleyway. So very different from last week.

Last week. Heh. Seemed like a whole different era. It turns out life changes when you kill someone, villain or no.

"Stabbing pain for the feeling

Now your wound's never healing

'Til you're numb, oh, it's begun

Before we all become one"

Still, this was how things would be, from now on. If I couldn't be a hero, well, I'd just have to do my best to help my city before I was forced to move on.

"Stop grieving, start leaving

Before we all become one"


* * *

Spoiler: Plot

I just finished Transistor. Great game. Thought that a crossover to Worm could actually work pretty well. Basic idea is that the sword eats 'traces,' which are left behind when a person dies, and turns them into powers/abilities. In Worm, I translated that to mean that when the sword killed a Parahuman or ate the trace left behind in the location a parahuman died (limited to a few minutes max, probably, if I don't cut that out altogether and make it absorb a 'trace' through the direct killing blow only.) it develops a power based on the parahuman in question.

The actual plot goes a little like this; Taylor triggers, and either makes or materializes the Transistor blade. If she made it, it might be interesting to allow her to make Processes as well since the two are so inherently linked. The story as-is would just focus on Taylor and the Transistor, so I'd probably just make it so that she can only summon and maybe de-summon the sword.

Anyway, she tries to be a hero anyway. She has some basic skill with a sword transferred to her, and a friend, which is pretty sweet. She goes out and kills Lung. And loses her secret identity in the process. (Or so she thinks.)

That is a very big no-no. Lung did not have a kill order. She panics. Neither she not the sword have any clue that the PRT would use this to force her into the awards rather than jail, due to Armsmaster's bungling, so they run. Armsy showed up on-scene and found a girl staring at the monster she just beheaded, and he understandably gets upset when she refuses to drop the weapon. Taylor, on the other hand, just murdered a slightly ramped-up Lung because she was freaking out and went for the neck. Armsmaster attempts to detain Taylor, Taylor isn't comfortable with any of this, and Armsmaster names her once his facial scanner matches her profile to a Winslow student; her shitty 'costume' basically just a taped-down hoodie, was burned in the fight. He names her in a misguided attempt to keep her from fleeing; force her to face him there or face him at home, and he thinks she'll stay and try to bargain/talk. He misjudged.

Not sure where to take it from there. The run from the PRT wouldn't last long, since they really aren't trying to arrest her and they'd get that across in short order once they encounter her, but I might end up leading her into killing another villain, then another, and so on in a horrible spiral. She kills a villain, other villains think she's aiming to kill them and fight seriously, Taylor has to fight seriously in return and ends up killing them which makes other villains even warier of her, but she isn't willing to give up on helping her town. Ect.

Mostly good as a one-shot. I really like to think about Taylor/Transistor interactions, though. Could be really heartwarming.


* * *

Spoiler: How Transistor got in BB

The entities visited the world of Cloudbank. It became one of the worlds that was harvested for Tinker shards and the like. The original transistor was destroyed, but another copy was made and linked to a shard in order to be handed out as a power due to it's unique properties.

In fact, I could spin this whole thing completely differently. Another trigger in the Bay is an unknown who receives the Processes tinker-tech shard, and is unstable enough to spread the stuff around. So BB is being evacuated while outside heroes are coming in to try to stop the rise of what appears to be another Nilbog, and Taylor refuses to leave. Maybe her dad didn't make it out, maybe she didn't escape the city before the quarantine went into effect, whatever. Now she has to hunt down the creator and stop him.

Don't Be Koi

(Автор: Master of Squirrel-fu)

Raping INTENSIFIES!

"What."

It could in no way be mistaken for a question. It was more than a simple statement as well. That single word summed up is complete unamusement with the girl sitting before him. She sat in a simple pair of jeans and a faded black sweater. Despite claiming to be a cape she lacked any sort of costume, not even having a mask. Well, she claimed she had a mask, only pointing at her glasses and winking and giving him a nudge when she'd said it. That was the moment he should have realized he was not going to enjoy the next few hours.

"I've already repeated myself thrice I don't feel like doing so again," She sat in her chair, completely ignorant of or intentionally dismissing the increasingly frustrated man in power armor standing in front of her. I stead reclining back to file her nails.

"You're lying," She wasn't, at least according to his tech. But in this situation he'd rather deal with being wrong than what the consequences of being right meant.

"Believe what you want, it doesn't change the truth," She frowned down at her nails before working on one finger in particular, "You can ask Lung if you want, he'd say the same thing."

"We'll take his statement when he's capable of giving one," Given the state they'd found him in that didn't seem like it'd be for a very long time. If ever, "Again tell me what happened."

With a sigh the girl tucked away her file down the front of her shirt, an act that might have been seen as needlessly seductive if she had any sort of bust. Armsmaster just spared an idle thought to wonder how it didn't just fall out given as her cloths weren't particularly tight nor thick enough to hid extra pockets. She sat back up and leaned onto the table, cupping her face in hands as she lounged.

"Ugh, fine. I went out for a walk then I ran into Lung," She paused, "He was being an ass so I decided to show him who's top dog."

Armsmaster frowned. He really did not want to repeat the next question, "And... how did you manage that."

"With my power~" Armsmasters frown intensified, "You know the one~"

"Clarify," He bit out, he'd no patients for her to start playing koi, "How did you defeat Lung."

With pout and a muttered insult she complied. And it was just as bad as before.

"I raped him. My power is Raping things."

"Bullshit!"

"But I diiid, And it iiis!"

"We ran diagnostics immediately after you said that the first time," He growled down at her, having stood with enough force to throw back his chair, "We found no signs of sexual abuse, and the both of you had been fully clothed when I'd arrived. Now the truth girl, what happened, and why would you make up something so serious to cover it up."

"Of course you didn't find anything, like hell I'd touch that freak. God knows what he's got crawling on him."

"You just claimed you raped him." He could feel his eyebrow twitching.

"And I did," Armsmaster would later wonder how he'd managed to resist that sudden urge to smack the smug off her face as the girl lifted her hand to tap her temple, "I raped him... with my eyes."

"Really?"

"Only an amateur needs to have to touch their victim. I've mastered the art of molestation."

"How did you defeat Lung." He was going to get the truth out of the little brat.

For the first time since he'd brought her in for questioning the girl looked something anything other then smug, dismissive, or petulant. Instead she met his scowl with her own.

"Fine you want to know?" She raised her arm as he tensed, "I'll show you how!"

She snapped her fingers and he lifted his halberd.

"Aaaaahn~" A high pitched moan left the PRT agent at the door as he fell to his knees grabbing his crotch. He simple sat there for several moments, twitching, blushing, and bitting his lower lip before realizing others where with him. The complete covering of over the top half of his face did nothing to hide the horrified look on his face before he fled from the room crying.

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"I raped him. Like Lung."

"You didn't move from your chair."

"Of course not. I raped him... with my mind." She waggled her fingers next to her head, as if to impress upon him that it was indeed done with just her mind, "With Lung I concentrated my Rape into my stare and raped him with my eyes. I call it Eye Rape... patent pending."

"That's not what that phrase means."

"I'm going to be the one with the patent."

"And I currently have a live connection to the information super highway. Now, once again. How did you defeat Lung."

She glared at him in defiance.

"I don't like you."

Armsmaster bit back the urge to reply back similarly. Cathartic yes, professional no.

"Do you have a girlfriend. Or perhaps a sister or childhood friend?"

"No."

"Now who's lying?" She smirked back, "Who ever she is, I am going to find her. Then I am going to steal her from you. And then I will laugh. Because she'll leave you for me. Never. To. Return."

"I'd like to see you try."

The girl leaned back in her seat once again smug, "Oh believe me you will~"

Laterz

"Onee-sama!"

Taylor looked down at the older brunet girl clinging to her like a barnacle.

"What the shit? Cherish!? I thought Jack killed you!"

"My little brother saved me!"

Regent walked in from the kitchen.

"Yup, I convinced your girlfriend to take a swim to drag her back up from the ocean floor. Wanted it to be a surprise for when you got back!"

Taylor just stared at him. And rapidly his grin began to crack and he paled. When Taylor pointed at him he turned round and tried to dive through the nearest window.

"RAPE BEAM!"

"Shitshitshi-NNNNNGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!" Regent didn't make it two steps before collapsing as the front of his pants exploded.

The Undersider's Adventures Through Tainted Space

(Автор: JustForLurking)

1.1

Pain.

That was the first conscious thought that crossed Lisa Wilbourn's mind as she regained consciousness. She was distinctly aware that every single nerve in her her body, from the very tip of her toes to the very core of her head, was telling her she fucked up bad. She was vaguely aware that she was facing up, and that she was thankfully lying in something that wasn't aggravating her back. She was also aware that she was breathing rather shallowly, if the slight tinges in her chest where any indication. She tried breathing deeper, but that only made the tinges worse. She whimpered, and even that brought on more pain. She tried to open her eyes, but one was stiffly refusing, and the other felt like the noonday sun was reaching from it's place in the sky and stabbing straight past her cornea and into her skull whenever she so much as squinted. She couldn't even cover her face, her arms limp at her sides. She was completely immobile.

Next to her, she heard a familiar voice groan. `Taylor!' she realized. She tried to call out, but only a raspy moan came. No, that wouldn't do, she couldn't stay put. She needed to move, get to a safe place. She opened her eye again, and kept it open, powering through the pain. She forced her jelly-feeling arms to prop her upright, grunting as entire upper torso lit up, shaking in painful exertion. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but she could finally see her surroundings. The first thing she noticed was that she was in a scorched crater, at least eight feet deep and twenty wide. Second thing she noticed was Taylor, and facing down and away from her. For a moment, Lisa thought the worst, right until she noticed the girl's small rise and fall of her chest. Her hair was matted and burned in places, and her charred costume was visible through the holes in her equally charred hoodie and jeans.

Lisa struggled flip herself unto her knees, teeth clenched. She crawled sluggishly towards Taylor, her breathing labored, sweat dripping down her face. To her, it felt like an eternity getting there, but maybe just a couple minutes in actuality. It didn't help that the air was so damn balmy. But finally, after an arduous journey, she reached her goal. With a titanic effort, she flipped Taylor over. The brunette moaned in pain, but otherwise seemed to be breathing a little easier. Now that she was facing her, Lisa could better see the damage done. Taylor's slim face was at least fifty percent bruises, and a twenty percent was red with what had to be first degree burns. The rest she couldn't tell over the thick layer of dirt. Her thin lips were chapped and craggy, her nose was bleeding at some point, and her glasses were cracked. Whatever the fuck happened to her friend and herself, it beat the living crap out them. Wait... What had actually happened to them?

Cape fight? No, costume under regular clothes. Heading to one and got ambushed? Possible. Who? Possibly— Ow-ow-ow.

Lisa clutched her head, pain shooting through. Right, everything is aggravated. Powers only make it worse. She groaned and carefully laid next to Taylor, spent. Her chest sent shots of pain with every inhale and exhale. Definitively a cracked rib. Maybe more. She focused on her breathing, doing her best to ignore the pain. Slowly, she relaxed as the pain receded to manageable levels. How long it took, she didn't know. It could've been minutes or hours; she couldn't tell.

Eventually, she heard a groan next her. Ah, Taylor's coming back to the world of the living. She didn't make an effort to move simply waiting for Taylor to wake. She took her time, slowly taking deeper and deeper breaths moaning in discomfort all the way. But she did manage to wake up eventually, announced by a pained and confused "whaa..."

To say Taylor was somewhat disoriented when she woke up would be akin to saying Eidolon was somewhat bullshit: A massive understatement. Her entire body felt like it was thrown into a clothes dryer set to very hot. Not to mention that her leg felt broken. And for the life of her she couldn't remember how she got to this state. Was she concussed again? Had she gotten bombed again? Certainly felt like it.

She did feel marginally better when a familiar, if raspy voice said "Welcome back, Taylor. Feeling just as shit as I am?"

She wanted to laugh, but only managed a pained moan. "I think so," she mumbled back. "Did Bakuda get to us again?"

Taylor's heart pinched in worry when Lisa let out an obviously forced laugh. "No idea yet," she rasped, "My head feels like someone split it open with a dull axe. Can't think worth a shit."

"Oh." Taylor could relate. Her head throbbed like mad too. A beat later, she asked "Where are we?"

Lisa squinted through her good eye, trying to focus in the surroundings outside crater. She could see some truly massive trees peeking over the edge, but her position didn't allow her much else. She would need to get out of the crater to get more information. Unfortunately, her limp body reminded her that she was no condition to go out exploring. Fuck it, she thought, I-we need to know. So with that, Lisa slowly cracked the tap open, and let her power flow. It was slower in giving answers, she noted. But that could wait for later.

Large trees. A forest, obviously. The air is warm and humid, indicative of a tropical area. A rainforest? Likely. Location? The tropics. Where on the tropics? Not enough information.

"I don't know," Lisa said at length, willing her power off as the headache mounted again. "Far as I can tell, we're on a rainforest, but that still means we can be just about anywhere."

"... Oh," was the only thing she got back. Lisa huffed exasperatedly. Even without her power, she could practically feel Taylor's confusion and mounting fear. She wanted to tell her it was going to be fine, but she knew that unless she herself believed it, Taylor wouldn't buy it. But she couldn't know that herself until she got out of this damn crater. But if she tried, she was pretty sure she would pass out again. So they were stuck here without a way to know anything about their surroundings.

And then a weird ass bug flew through her periphery.

... Oh, duh! Jeez, I feel stupid now. Am I becoming too reliant on my power? Gah, something to think about later. For now though...

"Taylor?" Lisa called.

"Yeah?" Taylor croaked.

"We are on a rainforest. That usually means a fuck ton of bugs."

Taylor's addled thought process hitched, before grinding into the correct gear and remembering that she had powers. Wait, how did I forget? I had it for so long and it never ever turned off. It's practically a part of me, a part of who I am. Did something happen to it? Did I lose it? No, she didn't, the brunette realized with relief. Right, she thought determinately. Here we go. She reached for her power, and It felt... Wrong. Sluggish, distant, maybe even weak. She could feel some of the bugs around her, but it was intermittent. Some materialized into her area of awareness suddenly, like they had poofed into existence that same moment, only to just as spontaneously disappear. And even when her power's influence managed to remain for more than a couple of seconds, she couldn't make anything of the information she was getting. It was all fuzzy and warped. She tried to focus, to make her power work like it should, but pain spiked through her skull. She yelped, and immediately let go. The pain receded, but the feedback from the nearby bugs did become clearer, and stayed longer in her awareness.

"Taylor, are you ok?" asked a concerned Lisa.

"No," she answered, her own worries leaking into her voice. "I... I think my power might be fucked. I can barely keep track of the bugs around me, much less control them. It's getting a little better, but not by much."

Lisa hummed in thought. Thinking back, she did notice that her power was a bit sluggish, and it took far too much effort to get a simple deduction. It did get a little better the next time she used it, just a few moments ago. Maybe whatever deposited them here also messed with their powers, and slowly recovering? It seemed... Possible, but she couldn't be sure without using her power, which she was reluctant to do. "Give it some time," she ended up saying. "Mine feels off too, but it's also getting better. Don't force yourself, let it come back on it's own."

Taylor was dubious, but she trusted Lisa. So with a mental shrug, because a real one would hurt to much, she forced herself to relax, and wait for her power to return. And it did, bit by bit. Her sphere of influence slowly expanded, the bugs within remaining longer and longer, sending marginally clearer feelings. It took time, maybe hours, but a map of the rough map of world around her coalesced. She even began receiving the instinctual feelings of what each bug was supposed to be! But what she found disconcerted her, to say the least. She was pretty damn sure that dragonflies weren't supposed to have two stingers instead of a tail.

She mentally shook off the though. She could examine the weird tropical bugs when they weren't stranded and possibly in danger. Sh focused her mental map, noting that they were sitting on a pretty deep crater, if the displaced earthworms -that spit fucking acid, somehow— working around her were to be trusted. She moved her attention out of the crater, noting the truly massive trees, as thick as she was tall, and burnt flora radiating from their hole in the ground. Beyond the damaged area, the trees stood tall and a myriad of plants and flowers that drawed the attention of most of the bugs around it. It didn't seem to be any animals around though. Maybe scared off by the obvious explosion? She tried to order the bugs in her control to explore the area, to some limited success. Most simply didn't do anything, almost if they were ignoring her commands. She found that a bit galling. The ones that did heed her directions did so for just for a couple of seconds before going back to what they were doing. She found that to make a bug stick to really do what she wanted to, she had to focus solely on it. And even then, it sometimes slipped from her mental grasp, twitching every other way.

The hell is going on! I could micromanage thousands of these things as a second thought! Why can't I do the same with you! Why do you fight me!

"Got anything?" asked Lisa, jarring her from her rant.

"I... don't know," she answered in a pinched voice, face scrunched in pain and concentration. "There's... There's some really weird stuff going on. I don't recognize any of the bugs here, and some of them seem do stuff that shouldn't be physically possible. Same deal with the plants. And it doesn't seem that there are any animals around, and I can't direct any bugs to look for some."

Lisa blinked. "Ok," she grunted as propped herself upright again. "Can you show me one of these bugs?" Taylor grunted her affirmation. For a moment, the blonde thought her friend might have forgotten about her request until she spotted a beetle flying erratically. She tracked it as it flew closer, and sketchily landed in her lap.

Again, Lisa blinked. The beetle looked fairly normal, if one ignored the fact that it was a metallic black -not that unusual— and that it was bigger than a freakin' baseball. But even with those features taken into account, she still didn't see anything reality breaking. Nature had made stranger things, and rainforests tended to be chock full of them. "Taylor," she said, "I'll admit this guy is a little weird, but I don't see anything..." She trailed off as another bug, a weird cross between a mosquito and a caterpillar, landed on the ground next to her.

The blonde started when the beetle shot a glob of whitish blue stuff at the wormsquito. The stuff immediately glued to the bug, quickly hardening. The bug tried to struggle, but soon it was completely immobile. The beetle jumped off Lisa's lap, and proceeded to eat the hardened glue, and the bug inside. Lisa stared nonplussed at the display, not sure what to think or say. She settled with an easy "That's new" as she flopped back. Taylor hummed in agreement.

An uneasy silence passed then, as the two friends left each other to mull on their own thoughts. Lisa went back to her breathing exercises, trying to get her headache to go away. Taylor let her conscious float through her small and inconsistent swarm, feeling as her power very slowly expanded and normalized. Not much happened then. It felt like hours had passed, but in reality, only half an hour passed, as evidenced by the sun's fractional movement.

It wasn't until shadows of some wayward clouds blanketed the sun that something truly dangerous happened. It has heralded when Taylor stiffened in surprise. "Lisa," she called.

Oh no. I know that tone, she thought. She sat up, her entire frame twinging. "Right, I take it we should be getting ready for a fight?"

Taylor propped herself on her side and cracked her eyes open for the first time, blinking the crust off. That's when she noticed that her glasses were busted, but that could wait. "There's something moving our way fast. The only thing I know is that it's large and strong. Can't tell what it is and I still don't have enough fine control to tag it. Best we can do is make sure it doesn' find us."

"Right, and staying in the big hole in the ground isn't good way to do so," said Lisa as she stood up on wobbly legs. She grimaced when she felt her back creak painfully and her ribs flare up. Yep, definitely a cracked rib. She shook her head. "Need help?" she asked her friend.

Taylor winced as she sat up straight. "Yeah, I think my ankle is sprained, at the very least." Lisa offered her a hand, and she took it. Both groaned in pain as Lisa helped her friend up, their combined weight straining their already battered frames. "We should hurry," Taylor panted. She pointed at some somewhere to their right. "He's getting close."

Lisa nodded, and did her best to climb out of the shallow crater they were in while helping her friend hobble along. They were nearing the edge when Taylor stumbled, dragging Lisa with her. "Shit!" they both yelled when they fell, their own injuries reminding them of their existence. They lay on top of each other, groaning and cursing under their breath. And then Taylor blanched as she turned to look at the fallen trees on the other side of the crater.

"It sped up," Taylor whispered, fear in her eyes. "We can't escape now."

"Maybe it's friendly and only wants to help?" Lisa hedged, not believing her own words.

"I wouldn't hold my breath."

"Ugh... A fight it is then?"

"Seems like it. Get ready, he's going to be here any second now."

Lisa whined in resignation, but stood up again anyway. She pulled her pistol out of her concealed holster at the hem of her pants, pointing it in the direction she expected their opponent to come from. She noted that the amount of bugs around them increased, but their flight paths were erratic, more than one smacking into her.

They waited a few tense seconds, vigilant for their adversary, ready to shoot it if necessary.

When he did finally crawled up among the fallen trees, they kinda forgot to shoot him, so great was their surprise. Of all possible things that they thought could have showed up, a cat boy wasn't one of them.

He, and it was certainly he, held himself aloft over a tree, allowing them a clear view to his powerfully build chest. It was slender, yet totally ripped; clearly defined muscles shifting and tensing under his black furred skin, moving with predatory grace. His long, dirty grey hair fell from his head and spilled over his shoulders. It was kept from his face by a small headband made out leaves. His face was humanoid in shape, yet feline in features and equally furred. He snarled at the two girls, showing a pair of long and sharp canines, fit for a carnivore. But his most striking feature were his eyes; two golden, slitted globes shining bright with the promise of malice.

Taylor was somewhat ashamed to admit it, but it was kinda sexy, in a weird way.

Or at least she thought so, right up until he finished pushing himself on top of the tree, and revealed that he didn't really have legs attached to his hip, but a long and scaly tail. And just like that, her opinion of him did a complete one-eighty.

Lisa winced where she was standing next to Taylor. Unfortunately for the blonde, she lost her hold on her power from the sheer surprise. And the intuits she got were, if anything, detrimental for their situation. She already knew that it was likely they would get their asses kicked. When the catboy showed up, she thought they would get eaten. But now her power let her know that it was just as likely that he would rape them. Quite honestly, she'd rather be eaten.

... In a non-sexual way, thank you very much!

"So," Taylor said from where she was sitting, eyeing the obvious carnivore as he slinked his way over the fallen forest. "How screwed are we?"

"Very," Lisa answered tinily. "Maybe even literally."

Taylor blinked confusedly, but any questions about what she meant were driven out of her head the moment the snake-boy exploded into motion as he reached the edge of the crater.

Lisa was expecting it, and managed to pull the trigger once. But he was expecting it too, and dodged out of the way. He reached the center of the crater, and coiled his tail, springing after them a second later. But he faltered halfway through when a bug rammed directly into his eye. He roared in pain, bringing his clawed hands to his eye. His charge missed completely, planting his face on the edge of the crater. Taylor scrambled out of the way as their assailant rolled down the slope, barely dodging out of the way. Lisa wasn't so lucky; the tail of the beast swiping her legs from under her. She fell on her back, the impact sending shocks of pain through her spine and ribs, robbing her lungs of air.

Taylor winced when she heard Lisa's pained gasp. She moved to help her, but that's when snakeboy landed between them, baring his fangs in an angry snarl. His eye was reddened, but still functioning. She tried to gather more bugs to her as he loomed over her, but the bugs still shrugged her control. The best she could manage was a thin cloud surrounding her. But it was enough to give him pause, yellow eyes darted between her face and the orbiting bugs.

"That was you wasn't it?" he spoke, to Taylor's immediate and great surprise. He laughed at her because of it. "You're one of those are you?" he said with derision. "You off-worlders are always the same. They look down on us simply because we don't adhere to your standards. Think us to be..." He ignored the bugs and reached, gripping her neck, his claws drawing blood. She squawked in surprise, but choked half way when she was lifted clean of her feet, bringing her to his eye level. "... Stupid," he finished airly, breathing right into her face. He grinned maliciously. "They always end up the same."

A sharp crack rang, and the catman screamed. He twisted, allowing to see Lisa propped on her side, pistol pointed unsteadily at their attacker. He growled, but then grinned again as his eyes darted to Taylor for a second. She looked to Lisa, catching her alarmed face for a second before she was bodily thrown at her.

Both cried out when Taylor's body impacted. The force was enough to push them a good four feet. Both also heard the telltale snap of a rib breaking. Lisa wheezed in pain as Taylor groaned on top of her. She was pretty sure that her rib was poking something important, if the blinding pain in her chest meant something.

She screamed again when something wrapped around them and squeezed. They were lifted upright, bound together by the tail of the predator. He was leering down at them. He put his hands on their heads, and caressed them almost lovingly. Taylor was left wondering why the thing was suddenly being so affectionate, at least until his crotch split open and two barbed dicks spilled out. Then she could only tremble in fear. He let out a dark chuckle, gripping their hair and pulling their heads to his crotch. He settled them at either side of his penises, one girl for each, and began rubbing himself on them.

Taylor whimpered and scrunched her eyes as she felt the rubbery barbs press and scrape against her cheek. She had no illusion of what was going to happen, and the mix of utter disgust and fearful desperation was making her stomach churn. It didn't help that she could smell his strong heady musk. It was one of the single most disgusting things she ever smelled.

Lisa, on the other hand, was a more preoccupied by the creeping darkness in her eyes, slowly losing her grip on consciousness.

Their rapist chuckled again, and separated their heads from his members. "Now, hope you are ready, because I certainly am," he said as he brought their mouths to to the tip of his spiny cocks. Taylor clamped her lips as hard as she could, refusing to let him in. Lisa, offered no resistance, but she might have as well been a dead fish, her mouth offering no pressure or play.

The catsnake frowned, but then just shrugged. Irresponsive as she may be, it was still a warm, wet hole. If anything, her friend should more that pick up the slack. Oh how he enjoyed it when they fought! His leer doubled in intensity as he focused on her. He pulled her a little higher, and to the side, exposing her shoulder. He licked his lips, and bared his fangs. He moved her gaping maw down on her, her sharp fangs piercing the thick but flimsy cloth covering her, but only to be stopped dead. Mildly surprised, he tore the blue cloth, revealing a second layer. This one was a dark grey, much more finely woven and skintight. He raked his claws along the surface, and found the cloth intact. Where he in any other situation, he'd be annoyed. However, his prey was already defeated, her resistance token at best. A mild challenge. One that he was set to enjoy.

Taylor felt her head being pulled to the side, felt the tiny dots of great pressure on her shoulder, the sound of her hoodie being torn. She cracked one eye open, just in time as she saw thing run his claws over her suit, finding no purchase. She thanked whatever gods there might be out there for spider silk. Only they know whatever he was trying to do.

Then her head was jerked upright again, and felt the tip of a dick insistently poking her thin lips, looking for a way in. And it did find it, the sharp point settling between her lips and forcing them apart with ease. Tears spilt from her closed eyes as the head violated her mouth. She tried to push it out with her tongue, but it did exactly the opposite of what she wanted, the owner of the dick grunting and pushing harder against it. She realized that this was a fight that she wasn't going to win, and began to sob around the intruding member.

Psss-zrap!

A noise that Taylor never heard before screamed into the clearing, the rapist catsnake along with it. His hands left their heads to reach for his back, allowing their mouths to pop free, and in Lisa's case, to loll back bonelessly. He twisted his body, looking behind him. The strange hissing and crackling sound returned just as the feline's head jinked to one side, letting a bright red flash sail past.

Next thing Taylor knew was that she was sailing through the air again, looking as their aggressor disappeared among the falling trees, more red flashes chasing after him.

And then she landed, head first. She heard another crack, before a thump. That thump, she realized amongst the swimming feeling in her head, was the sound of her body hitting the floor. The pain in her body was suddenly gone, everything below her head suddenly muted. The realization, combined with the head trauma, was enough for her to slip out of the conscious world once again. But before her vision fuzzed out, she saw a blurry silhouette approach her. The last thing she saw was a lot of purple, and the most mesmerizing shade of amber she'd ever seen.

When Taylor opened her eyes again, she found herself looking at an indistinct white ceiling. Blinking a couple of times, she realized that she was looking at a hospital's ceiling. God dammit, not again... she internally grouched. What the fuck did I do this... Time...

Memories came rushing at the forefront, shocking the mental cobwebs clean. The crater, the tree's, the bugs, the cat-snake thing that raped her, it all came back. Adrenaline surged through her body as she sat up. It was a bad idea she found out, as the sudden movement left her dizzy and falling to the side.

Before she could fall, a couple of small hands catched her, and laid her back down on the bed. "Easy there girl, you are safe now," a sweet and bubbly feminine voice said. Turning to the source, Taylor recognized the same mass of purple, and two dots of that amber shade. It took her a couple of seconds, but she eventually connected the dots. She was looking at her rescuer.

"Just lay back, and rest up. You and your friend -she's fine by the way— took quite a beating back there. I know that you probably have some questions, and so do I, but I think is better for your friend to join us too. I don't mind repeating myself, but sometimes it's better to just have everybody in from the beginning. Much more expedient, you know? The doc said that you would wake up about the same time, so your friend shouldn't be far behind. Then we can have a meet and greet. Sound good?"

Taylor gaped slightly at her rescuer. The other woman spoke a mile a minute, almost fast enough to be incomprehensible. But she did understand her, and she was right. It made sense to wait for her, for the reasons mentioned, and the fact that Lisa was way more socially apt than she was. She was better suited to deal with... whatever they were dealing with. So, she nodded, and patiently waited for the blonde to wake.

Like it was predicted, they didn't have to wait long. Not ten minutes later, Lisa yawned and blinked into consciousness.

"Good morning sleeping beauty!" called their rescuer. "We were waiting for you!" A sleepy `buh?' was the answer she got. "First things first, allow me to introduce myself." She struck a pose; her hands going to her hips while she puffed her chest like a rooster. "My name is Amber Anne Steele, gentle-lady adventurer and soon to be the richest woman in the universe! And I would like to welcome you to the beautiful planet known as Mehen'Ga!"

Taylor gaped in incredulity at the fussy silhouette of the madwoman who apparently saved her. She turned to look at Lisa. Even if she couldn't see her, she just knew that she had to be thinking the same.

What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?!

Utterly Fucked Up

(Автор: Gideon020)

Prologue: Vista Wakes Up

Missy Biron's first thought upon waking up and staring at the ceiling of her room at the Protectorate's HQ was, 'There is a stain on my ceiling.'

Her next thought, accompanied by her widening eyes, was a succinct, 'Oh fuck, I made that stain.' It was quickly followed by, 'Oh. Fuck. I know how I made that stain...'

She could already feel it stirring as she stared at the off-white stain on the ceiling, actually the most recent of an extensive number of stains on the ceiling and her nose wrinkled as Missy finally registered the familiar scent of old cum wrapping around her like a familiar and...comforting blanket as slowly, sluggishly, memories filtered back.

She remembered...a flash, and then a haze falling over her, soft and pleasant...and a voice telling her that the best friend in the world was near and she should be really happy and friendly. And then...

Missy's eyes widened as she threw off her covers and tried to jump out of bed. The key word is 'tried' as she flipped forward with a 'hya!' and fell flat on her chest. Her new, massive, chest with the very, very sensitive nipples as Missy moaned before she choked and covered her mouth while struggling to rise and keep her balance, pointedly ignoring the rapidly hardening object between her legs as she dashed for the attached bathroom and heaved.

She didn't know how long she knelt there, ignoring the long hair falling around her face, emptying her stomach of what she distinctly and nauseatingly remembered as food, possibly the remnants of copious amounts of alcohol...

...And enough cum for...Missy's vomiting intensified until she couldn't find anything more to bring up except a brief spurt of sludgy bile before she collapsed backwards, gasping desperately for air as tears flowed from her eyes. 'Oh God...Oh god...oh god...'

Sucking in a final ragged breath, Missy carefully rose to her feet and managed to dare look at herself in the mirror. What stares back at her...is beautiful.

Even with eyes reddened from crying, the taste of puke still in her mouth, and some snot leaking from her nose, Missy could still admit that the young woman staring back at her was incredibly gorgeous. It was only when she wiped her nose that her reverie was stopped as she began washing her face in the sink while her tail wagged gently.

Tail? Missy looked back to find that yes, she had a fairly thick-looking cat's tail coming out from above her butt. She wiggled a few times and then instinctively remembered how to move it. It was heavy though, and Missy remembered that it was more for balance while she ran across...telephone wires? Cables?

Granted she could do that with her powers by minutely stretching the wires to give her feet more room to retain her balance, but Missy didn't think it was for...oh, right. Shuddering, Missy turned her attention back to the front of her body and looked down at the two heavy, large and perky additions to her chest.

Well, she had breasts now. Too bad that even with these Dean wouldn't even give her the time of day. And then when she went to—

Missy shuddered as she forced herself not to think of...her as her best friend in the whole wide world. Even if that friend did give her a nice tail and cute little kitty ears. Missy bodily fought the urge to squeal at the sight of her twitching cat ears, instead backing away to focus on the rest of her body.

She was taller, nearly as tall as Miss Militia, and built like a model who worked out. Made sense, Missy had vague memories of wanting a 'more heroic' body and this certainly fit the bill. Even her new, huge, breasts that she was certain—

"Ah, hell." Missy whined as she felt a brief pressure before she saw milk begin to well up and begin leaking out of her nipples to drip down onto the smooth floor, "Great, now I have to...ugh, you know what? Fuck this. I'm not emptying these and I am certainly not emptying this." Reaching down past her breasts, Missy gave the stiff penis standing at attention a stiff jerk, "Why the hell did I ask her to give me one of these?"

The unpleasant memory filtered back into her mind, "Oh. Right. NTR." Sighing at the memories of constantly failing to even so much as arouse Dean, followed by a string of more and more extreme changes, Missy sat down on the toilet and held her head in her hands, "What's happening to me?"

After a few minutes and coming up with now answers, Missy sighed and stood up, "Welp, better get out there and see what the damage is." She carefully padded out of the bathroom, careful not to test her tail's balancing abilities too much since for some reason she wasn't as...fluid in her new body as she remembered being.

For that matter, the haze that had been clouding her mind for the last two...three? Well, the last few months anyway. It was gone now. Her mind felt clearer, sharper, and the world looked a lot brighter and...filthier.

Missy shuddered as she gingerly stepped over a suspicious puddle, "Okay, what the hell happened to the base? Shouldn't the cleaning systems be engaging by now?"

A thought drifted into her head, 'Or they could have been disabled so that they wouldn't get in the way of the sex...'

Missy's teeth clenched as she picked up the pace, steadily increasing the length of her strides until her long legs were taking her rapidly down the hallway as her cat ears twitched and swiveled at the sound of a loud moaning. Twisting on her heel around a corner, Vista slapped the door release and strode into the lounge where she heard the moan.

"Oh! Vista! You're awake! Just in time! Listen, could you help deal with Shadow Stalker, she's being a little needy and I kinda want to give some attention to-"

Missy Biron didn't listen any further as she walked straight up to Taylor Hebert and smashed her fist into her surprised face.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH!"

Amelia / Amy

(Автор: CptTagon)

Amelia smiled to herself. Life was going very well. So much better than life as that boring prude, Amy. That mix-up between dear, sweet Vicky's aura, and her own experiments had been the best thing to ever happen to her. After that mess at the bank, Amelia had come into her own, and slipped away as soon as she could to be by herself. And lo and behold, that little spider-girl Skitter had come calling, trying to apologize. Well, Amelia was gracious enough to let her apologize, eventually. Then she had pretty little Taylor, lead her, bow-legged, back to her band of thieves. It had been a bit tense, getting all of them, but now they were all properly serving her.

Amelia looked around her new domain. The decorating scheme was fairly nice, and she didn't have any strong preferences one way or another on how something should look. Keep it the way it is, she decided; maybe add some restraint bars or something. She turned her attention back to the show happening in front of the big-screen TV.

That smug bitch Lisa was on all fours, facing Amelia. The burly Rachel was kneeling over her, holding her thighs apart so Gru— Brian, need to learn their names. Or give them new ones, whatever works— Brian could fuck the blonde's pussy. Rachel flicked her newly-acquired bright red hair over her shoulder. That was the only physical change Amelia had made yet to those three, so that she could easily tell them apart.

Of course, she already had plans on how else to change them. All five were already addicted to her, obviously, but she still wanted to change them even more, mentally and physically. Maybe browse the Internet for some ideas. But for now, it was time to watch the show.

Brian kept on screwing Lisa, the squelching sounds made by his black cock slamming in and out of her sopping pussy almost drowned out by the occasional slaps Rachel delivered to her rear. Underneath it all was the steady moaning of Lisa as she was fucked raw. She had confessed to Amelia that she had never had sex before, so Amelia decided to give her the opportunity, by hitting her with a massive wave of lust, and pointing her at Brian. The little tart had actually resisted what her body was telling her to do for so long, that Amelia finally decided to have Rachel hold her down so Brian could fuck her. But as soon as his thick cock prodded her pussy, Lisa's resistance to Amelia's generosity had crumbled. Now she was moaning like, hah, a bitch in heat.

Rachel leaned in to kiss Brian, and he raised a hand off Lisa's hips to start kneading her large, heavy breasts. The dog girl grunted as Brian squeezed her nipple, and shuffled closer to him. Amelia admired the muscle on both of them. Maybe she should tighten up Rachel's body even more, and have the two of them tag-team the newly feminine Taylor.

The blonde bitch's arms gave out, and her front collapsed to the floor, which caused her ass to too be raised a bit higher up. This seemed to encourage her former leader even more. Watching Lisa's flushed face contort as Brian picked up the pace, Amelia slipped a hand down her miniskirt. This is so much better than just jilling off to Vicky's picture. Hell, I could even turn one of them into Vicky, screw her six ways to Sunday! Her fingers worked their way down, sliding down her newly shaved skin, and reaching her own pussy. She was already wet, and slipped a finger in easily, the rest circling her lips.

Before Amelia could really get into it, a movement in the corner caught her eye. Regent was standing there. Alec, although after Amelia's changes, Alyx was probably a better name now, was quivering in the corner. Upon seeing him with the mask off, Amelia was struck by how pretty he was. Remembering a conversation Amy had overheard, about the fetish of one of the doctors at the hospital, she decided to see for herself what it would look like. And she was very pleased with the results.

Now dear Alyx was forced to stand upright, with her long black hair bouncing on her shoulders, while her B-cup breasts did some interesting shaking of their own. Down between her legs, her little one-inch penis was hard and straining against the red silk bow tied around it. Amelia knew that if she turned Alyx around, she would see the blue vibrating dildo coming out of her nicely curved ass. Maybe after Brian's done teaching Tattletale a lesson, I'll have him fuck Alyx. Yeah, some trash talk about how pathetic her dick is, and how she's only good for servicing real men. Oh! And then give the girls dicks and have a gangbang with her. At the thought of that, Amelia redoubled her efforts, sawing two fingers on and out of her pussy. As she pressed her thumb down against her clit, she could feel herself start to gush, and knew she was about to cum.

Before she could do so, however, there was some pressure against her hand. Looking away from her art piece, she saw Queen Bee nudging against her lower body. On the way to the Undersiders loft, Amelia had decided Skitter wasn't nearly the right name for Taylor, and had given her a new one, and the body to match. Now, the insect Master had black casing running up and down her limbs, and a mental compulsion to only move around on all fours. Amelia had also changed her skin tone to bright yellow, and added some extremely sensitive bee feelers to her forehead.

"Oh, so the bee wants some honey, eh? Well," Amelia spread her thighs, "go right ahead." Amelia scooted forward on the couch, and wrapped her thighs around Bee's head. All her new servants were addicted to her, of course, but Taylor was going to be a special case. After all, she had held a knife to Amelia's throat. She was going to be a long time working that off.

As Queen Bee started sucking and licking Amelia's pussy, Amelia ran a finger down Bee's left feeler, and smiled as she stiffened. They were a little more sensitive than her nipples, and had so much more area to use, even with the two extra cup sizes Amelia had given her. As Taylor slowly worked a finger into her pussy while sucking on Amelia's clit, she closed her eyes, and started fondling her own breasts. As she listened to Lisa's moans grow sharper and sharper, she felt her own pleasure rising. Finally, as Tattletale came, screaming a jumble of profanities into the carpet, Amelia crested her own peak and fell back against the cushions.

Opening her eyes, she saw Alyx standing in front of her with a smile and a scepter.


* * *

A slap brought Amy back into the waking world. Where am I? Looking around the large room, she was shocked to realize she was tied to a chair, with two people looming over her.

"Enjoy your little nap?" Amy turned to see a black haired woman wearing only pants standing to her left. Amy was confused for a moment about who this person was, before the memories of the past three hours came crashing back in. That meant it was an unmasked Tattletale standing in front of her, with a small smile on her lips.

"Now, while you were out, Regent and I did some talking, since we're the only ones clear headed enough to think things through right now. You will fix all of us back to normal." Amy nodded. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't make things right. "And then," Lisa's smile turned sinister, "we'll discuss your punishment."


* * *

"Oh God! Oh God, oh God, oh God! Please Dean, keep doing it! Fuck me raw!" Amy stared at the ground, desperately wishing she had ear plugs. She knew she deserved this, but it still didn't make the punishment any less awful. Regent and Tattletale had forced her to change Taylor and Alec back to their normal selves, but she had refused to even look at what had happened to their brains. After talking failed to work, Lisa resorted to another measure. Now Amy was tied up, as Lisa and Alec role-played her sister and Dean in front of her.

Tattletale had turned a white bathrobe into an approximation of Glory Girl's costume, and was still wearing half of it as they fucked just a few inches in front of Amy. I deserve this. Those things I did to these people, I need to be punished. Vicky would never love me, and they're showing me it. I just need to focus on that, knowing that I'm bad and should be punished. Yeah, just think about being punished, Amy.

Amy lifted her gaze up, to watch Vicky-Lisa getting fucked. She was staring back at Amy, green eyes looking into her own, underneath Alec's frame. Smirking, she continued to imitate Victoria, directing a stream of dirty talk nominally at Alec, but Amy knew it was really meant for her.

"Your nipples are hard." Amy jerked, and turned her head to look at Hellhound. She hadn't bothered to dress herself, just wearing a light, unzipped windbreaker. She had been left to guard Amy, while Grue and Skitter went into a bedroom to discuss their plans. Amy quickly looked away from Rachel. She was built on a scale that could easily break Amy, especially since she exercised so little. Those muscles, those clearly defined abs barely hidden by the jacket, those full breasts, the bright red hair— No, Amy, you're being punished right now. Focus on the shame, being made to feel worthless. Oh yeah, that's right. Feel horrible, that they deserve to do this to you—

Finger curling in her hair snapped Amy out of her increasingly disturbing reverie. Hellhound was straddling her face, pushing her pussy against Amy's face. Amy flinched at the unwashed, primal smell, before Rachel tightened her grip and ground her crotch against Amy's face.

"Come on, you fucking idiot. Grue didn't fuck me, I'm horny, and you're the only one available. Now start licking." Amy flushed red. She'd never done anything like this before, and wasn't certain how to start. She stuck her tongue out, and hastily licked; running along Rachel's left lip before closing her mouth.

"What the hell was that? I want you to eat me out, not just breath on me. Lisa said you were a lesbian, so you should like this." Hellhound's domineering tone sent shivers through Amy. This was how someone like her should be treated, abused and made to pleasure others. Steeling herself, she gave a long lick down Rachel's cunt, from her clit to the rear of her lips. Reassured by fingers tightening in her hair, she did it again, and then again. As Hellhound swung a leg over her shoulder, Amy hesitantly raised her right hand to fondle her new mistress, and her left to her own shamefully wet pussy.

Growing more confident, she started rubbing Rachel's clit with her thumb, while alternating between short hard licks, and longer, softer strokes with her tongue. While she listened to Hellhound's grunts grow louder and louder, she could also Lisa and Alec fucking right in front of her, both the sounds of flesh meeting, and the dirty talk that Tattletale was using to hurt her.

"Oh yes, yes, yes! Dick feels so good! I love you Dean! Ahhhh! Fuck!" Amy could also hear some muffled sounds coming from the closed door that the other two members of the Undersiders had disappeared behind. As Lisa's moans grew to a fever pitch, and Alec started whispering something in French, Rachel tightened her grip on Amy's head driving her face further into her crotch. Finally the wetness that had smeared across Amy's face, and flooded her tongue gushed all across Amy's face and ran down her neck. Relaxing her grip, Hellhound stepped away and let Amy look around. Lisa and Alec were standing up, smirking at her as she was made to service their friend. Shamefaced, Amy snatched her hand away from her pussy, but Lisa grabbed it.

"Oh no, you can keep masturbating. You just need to tell us what got you hot and bothered. Was it the little role-play we did? Being made to service someone who doesn't give a damn about you? Come on, we're all waiting for your answer. What kinky, degrading things does the great healer Panacea need to have done to her before she can get off?" Lisa's smile grew cruel as Rachel went off to collect Grue and Skitter.

"Both"

"What was that? Speak up; I'm sure we all want to know." As Tattletale taunted Amy, she could see Brian and Taylor return. They were both naked, and Taylor was actually smiling. As they surrounded Amy, silently judging her, she knew what she had to say next.

"Both, I need this to cum."

"Oh well, why don't you do that. Just get yourself off like an animal in front of us." As Amy, shame-faced, slipped her hand back down to her crotch, she listened to the Undersiders discuss how best

to handle her. As Alec offered up increasingly inventive suggestions, Amy shuddered and quaked her way to orgasm. She belonged here, an object of disinterest to them, only useful for having sex with. Eventually she would service them often enough for her guilt to go away, and let her be a good person again.


* * *

"Now then, if you're a good girl, I'll let you out in an hour or two. Alright? That's what I thought." Amelia stepped back from Lisa and flipped the switch in her hand. She grinned as she heard the buzz of the motors, and Tattletale stiffening. Amelia was fairly happy with her handiwork. Two vibrators were taped to Lisa's nipples, there was a ring gag in her mouth forcing her mouth open and causing her to drool, and her hands were cuffed behind her so she couldn't get herself off. Most importantly though, her new tails were covered in silk. Each of her nine, blond, long tails were encased in silk Queen Bee had made, and the barely-there pressure on that sensitive fur should make Lisa go crazy with lust soon enough. Amelia had debated over doing something to Lisa's new fox ears as well, but nothing came to mind, and she had wanted to visit the rest of her pets. Standing up, she smoothed out the green shorts that were the only piece of clothing she had on. And that was still more than anyone else in the building.

That should show her, Amelia thought to herself as she left the bedroom. While she didn't care what happened to Amy, beyond a general dislike of not being in control during those times, she couldn't stand anything carrying over when she woke back up. And those skinned knees? Her sore jaw? That was definitely too much interference. Maybe Lisa can blow and eat everyone out twice next time, and see how much she likes it! Making sure to turn the light off to Lisa's room, Amelia shut the door, cutting off Tattletale's growing panting.

The sound of moaning drew her to the next room. Brian and Alec were on the bed there, with Alec on his back holding his legs apart while Grue fucked his ass. As soon as she woke back up, Amelia had changed Alec back, though not all the way. Now he was almost perfectly androgynous, the only real hint to his gender being the crotch. For the rest of his body, just enough curves on the hips and limbs, and little AA cup breasts with pointy little nipples had been the order of the day. Amelia still hadn't decided what to do with Brian, beyond giving him the tune-up she'd given to all of them to remove scars and such, as well as making the stereotype of Big Black Cocks become true. A massive nine-incher, she'd had to rearrange Grue's blood vessels just to make it safe. Of course, Alec seemed to like it, giving Brian constant encouragement as Brian tightened his grip on Alec's waist. After pausing to enjoy the sight, Amelia cleared her throat.

"Team meeting in half an hour. Make sure you both are aware enough to talk." Getting a grunt of confirmation, Amelia checked to make sure the camera was still recording, and left. Guy on guy had always been Vicky's thing instead of hers. She remembered one time before Vicky started dating Gallant, when Amy had walked in on Vicky jilling off to a video of half a dozen basketballs players having an orgy. Carol and Mark just couldn't get a straight answer out of Vicky about why Amy got her desserts for the rest of the week, either. Good times, good times. As she left, she heard Brian interrupt Alec's stream of consciousness dirty talk.

"You know, I never thought fucking another guy would be fun, but your ass is just so goddamn tight. Holy shit! We'll need to do this more often."

"Yeah, I'm pretty fucking awesome at fucking. Ugh! Oh, try and keep up that pace. I learned a lot about this shit back ho-" Whatever Alec was talking about was cut off as Amelia closed the door.

Now to go visit the other person who needs me to forgive them. Leaving Grue and Regent to their sodomy, Amelia made a beeline to see Queen Bee. Ah ha ha, I'm so clever. Rounding the corner, she could see Bitch and Bee sitting on a chair, facing the stairs. Amelia had reversed the reversal Amy had done to Taylor, so now she had her black and yellow markings again and her transparent wings were fluttering. As Rachel was sitting on Taylor's lap, Amelia had to move around them to get a good look at her.

As punishment for what Bitch had done to her, Amelia had given Rachel cat ears and a tail, and a threat to continue the changes if she continued to misbehave. She shuddered to remember what Rachel, at Alec's urging, had made Amy do.

Amy quietly groaned as she shifted position. She'd never dreamed of trying butt stuff before, and the tail plug in her ass now made her feel so full and bloated. That, and the brown Labrador ear-band, and being made to be naked, all made her feel so vulnerable and worthless. She had the tail of a dog, the ears of a dog, the collar of a dog, and she was being treated like a dog. Maybe that was what she deserved. To just surrender all her worries and fears and just let someone else think for her.

One of the dogs, Angelica, padded over from her water dish to where Amy lay, curled up at Rachel's feet. Collapsing, the massive dog brought her head down on Amy's chest, driving the air out of her lungs with a whoosh. Glancing down at her, Bitch snapped her fingers.

"No barking. Angelica, go. Hunt Brutus." The dog shot a betrayed look at Bitch, but wearily climbed to her feet, and left Rachel's room. Turning her attention to Amy, Rachel reached down and started scratching behind Amy's real ear. As she pressed back against the hand, Amy blushed as she thought about what her master might order her to do to prove she was a good pet. Alec and Lisa had made sure she'd heard them talking to Rachel about how to treat her. Being made to go around on all fours for days on end while being naked, forced to do whatever any of the Undersiders wanted done, all while waiting for Tattletale to figure out how to undo the changes in the brain Amy had given them all. Amy looked up as Skitter— no it was Taylor, since she was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, walked in and sat down on Rachel's bed.

"So, how are you taking this?"

"Fine. Don't mind this, so long as I can spend time with my dogs." Bitch turned her gaze back down to Amy, continuing to pet her.

"No, I mean, are you really okay with this, us having all this sex? None of us ever even looked at each other before, and now we've all fucked each other half-a-dozen times! And now you have the person responsible for all this," Amy winced at the reminder of the horrible things she'd done, "on a leash, naked! Doesn't any of that bother you?" By the end of her tirade, Taylor was back up on her feet, pacing around the room, as Bitch scowled.

"I don't really give a shit. Sex with you or whoever is better than just being by myself. And I do want to see if I can make her act right. None of this talking bullshit to try and hurt me. Just someone who will do what I say, because I'm in charge. Anyway, you seemed to be having a fine time fucking Grue on his bed. What gives you the right to talk?" Rachel's hand ceased moving, and Amy whined in the back of her throat, both at the loss of pleasure, and at the charged atmosphere in the room. An atmosphere that was all her fault. Bitch had the right idea. If she just did what she was told, then she couldn't hurt anyone else. Maybe she belonged as a pet for someone.

"You're right, Rachel, it doesn't bother me. And it bothers me that it doesn't bother me if you get what I'm saying. I'd never kissed even kissed a guy before, or thought about what being with a girl would be like. But now I've fucked or made out with everybody in the building, and I'm probably going to do it again!"

"Yeah, so? If you want to fuck me, or fuck Amy, you just need to say so. Otherwise, you're just wasting my time with a lot of bullshit."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Amelia made us all sterile, so I might as well enjoy it while I've got it. Thanks for letting me clear my head, Rachel. I hope you enjoy training your new dog." Getting a grunt in reply, Taylor left the room, while Rachel started scratching Amy again. It felt so nice, just simple human contact, without Bitch expecting to be healed or helped, just making Amy feel nice because she wanted to. Maybe she would be happier as a dog then as a human.

Amelia suppressed a shiver at the memory. That hadn't been enjoyable at all, letting everything slip away and having someone take care of her. Why, why, it had been downright insulting how one of her slaves had put something up her ass, and snapped a collar around her neck. Yeah. That was why Rachel had to be punished, not to reassure Amelia about her fetishes.

Amelia had lingered over transforming Rachel and Taylor, and she was pleased with how well they had turned out. Amelia was very proud of the ears, as they twitched and flattened themselves in response to what Rachel was feeling. Right now, they were standing straight up as Taylor molested her friend. They were both facing the stairs, so Amelia got a good look at Rachel.

Her hands were underneath her chin, and her forearms were framing her heavy breasts, while tied together with a black leather ribbon. Amelia had removed her scars and blemishes, leaving her body to look like a white, female version of Brian's. When Taylor had seen what Amelia had done, she'd rushed over to her friend so quickly, she had tripped over the black and yellow high heels made out of chitin that Amelia had added on. When Amelia had told her to punish Bitch for doing those awful, unenjoyable things to her, Taylor had then squealed so loudly that the dogs had covered their ears.

Now, she had one hand rubbing Rachel's inner thighs, and the other tracing patterns along her well-defined abs. Taylor was almost hidden by her playmate, only her gossamer-like wings and her chitinous arms and legs peeking out from beneath her massive lover. Hearing Amelia come by, Taylor stuck her head out from behind Rachel, where she'd been giving her love nips on the back of the neck. Her new antennae bobbed with the movement, and her permanently shiny and lustrous hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat.

"So, Taylor, how many times has the cat-girl apologized with her body yet?" Still aware enough to listen to anything besides Taylor's voice, Rachel snarled at that.

"I ain't no kind of pussy." Amelia smirked at her, modeling her expression off Tattletale's.

"Oh really? With a fluffy little cat tail and ears? Let's face it, because you've been bad, you're a cat girl. I suppose that if you're good enough, I might change you into a real bitch though." Seeing Rachel open her mouth, Amelia raised a hand. "And good girls only speak when I tell them to. Now Taylor, how many times has her body apologized for humiliating me?"

Rolling her eyes at the by-play, Taylor paused to bit Bitch's shoulder, sending a shudder through the woman before responding.

"I've made her cum twice in the past hour, if that's what you mean. But I don't think even red-hot pokers could get Rachel to ever say she's sorry for anything." Amelia frowned at the news.

"Only twice? With your new libidos, you should have had ten orgasms in an hour. Hell, I know the boys have had that many, and they still need to get it back up after they cum."

"Wait, you wanted me to give her orgasms?" Queen Bee frowned, and her hands stilled, prompting Rachel to whine. "I thought you wanted me to tease her, keep her on the brink. That's why I was just doing her legs and stomach when you came by."

"Oh really. Ah, well, I suppose it doesn't really matter, just so long as she was punished. Tell you what, I'm having a meeting with everyone in twenty-five minutes, so why don't you show me your technique." Pulling up a chair, she sat down and leaned forward to watch her favorite slave torment her second least favorite.

Taylor started off by ducking her head to nip at Bitch's nape, prompting her to jump in shock. Then her hands started back up, drifting over her body. Finding a sweet spot underneath one of Rachel's ribs, one hand stayed there, rubbing and prodding while making her yelp, while the other made its way up to her breasts, circling around their base.

Sliding a hand down to her pussy, Amelia started rubbing while watching the show. Pinching a nipple in her other hand, she smiled as Bitch started to shake as Bee drew a long, low moan out of her by grabbing a nipple in between two fingers and drawing it out away from Rachel's body before letting go. Moving her other hand down to Bitch's crotch, Bee started biting harder as she ran two fingers down her lover's mons. Rachel's heavy breathing and flushed face were a real turn on to Amelia, almost as much as what Bee was doing to her body.

For the next twenty minutes, Queen Bee played Bitch like an instrument, bringing her right to the edge, and then backing back down. Two seconds of finger-fucking, followed by five minutes of running her hands up and down Rachel's limbs, murmuring to her about what a great cat she was. Biting down hard enough to draw pinpricks of blood, while stroking Bitch's tail. Massaging breasts, only to turn Rachel's head to kiss her. By the end, Bitch's pitiful whining wrung a well-paced orgasm out of Amelia, just as Brian and Alec came into the living room and flopped down onto the couch. Standing up, and motioning for Taylor to stop, Amelia dragged her chair over to face the couch.

"Well, since we're all here-, " at that, Alec interrupted her.

"Wait, we're missing Miss Smug. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's way easier to blow this stuff off when it's just Brian yakking, but you hate her enough that it would be way funnier to have her here." Ignoring the scowls both Amelia and Brian were giving him, Alec leaned back and spread his legs, giving the girls a good view of the cum trickling out of his ass.

"I agree with Regent. If you want all of us here, it should be all of us," Queen Bee chimed in, nudging Bitch off her lap with a whine before facing the rest of the group.

"Fine. But your no longer my most favorite minion now, Taylor." Standing up, Amelia went to get Lisa, passing by Rachel who was working her arms out of the ribbon they were wrapped in.

Turning up the lights to Lisa's room, Amelia was pleased to find that the stimulation from the vibrators and the silk for the past half hour had caused Lisa to pitch herself forward, apparently hoping to rub her breasts against the carpeting so she could finally cum. As Amelia kneeled down over her, Tattletale looked up at her pleadingly.

"Now, now, enough of that. It's time to be a big girl and try and talk and shit. I suppose that means I should take out the gag, even if you are a lot more pleasant to talk to with it in." After working the gag out, and turning the vibrators off, she undid the hand and ankle cuffs so she didn't have to try and drag Lisa out of the room. While Amelia expected her to have some snide comeback, it seemed as if Lisa was till gathering her wits.

Moving back to the living room, Amelia let out a bark of laughter at the sight of Bitch. Apparently, rather than just stew in her juices for however long the meeting lasted, Rachel had decided to take matters into her own hands. She had fastened a bright blue dildo to the glass table, and was squatting over it, fucking herself in front of the rest of her team. Oh well, I doubt she'd have much to add anyway. And this way I get a show as well. Struck by a related thought, Amelia turned to Lisa and smiled, making sure that the villainess picked up on her idea to make Lisa do a briefing while a sex machine drove a dildo in and out of her ass. Lisa flushed and dropped a few more steps behind Amelia.

Settling down in her chair, Amelia watched Lisa sit on the floor in front of Taylor, who immediately started playing with her fox ears.

"Now, since we really are all here, I wanted to pump you lot for information. I'm getting bored spending all day cooped up inside here. Do any of you have homes I can visit or something?"

Taylor was the first to speak. "Well, I live with my dad at home, but, uh, it's pretty run-down, and I don't think Dad is the kind of person you'd be very interested in, Mistress. He's in his forties, going bald, skinny..."

"Right I get the point. No going to the dump with only the old guy to meet us there. What about the rest of you?" After exchanging glances with Grue and Regent, Tattletale was the next to pipe up.

"I live here, same as Alec. Rachel spends , ah, Taylor, not when I'm talking, some time here, some at her shelter, but unless you like no roof and concrete floors, I'd skip it, oh please, not the base, they're too sensitivvee!"

With Lisa unlikely to contribute anything more, Amelia turned to the last member. Shifting around, Brian waited a moment before answering

"Well, I do have a place I just bought. An apartment in a pretty good part of town. I'm hoping to move my sister in as soon as CPS gives me the okay. Bit smaller than the loft, but still the nicest alternative we've got." Amelia nodded, and thought a bit before asking another question.

"And this sister, what's she like? Little kid, year younger then you, what? Also, how hot is she?"

"Well, she's about a month away from fifteen. And yeah, she's pretty damn hot. Been worried about that actually, with the kind of company my mom keeps." Amelia leaned back to consider the news.

"Well, well. A sexy little black girl, all ripe for the taking, eh? And underage, that makes it even sweeter."

"Actually," Taylor piped in, as she rubbed the tips of Lisa's ears, "I'm only fifteen myself."

"Really? Well, that will make it even more fun the next time I fuck you." Turning back to the main group, Amelia directed her most trustworthy smile at Brian.

"Don't you worry, Grue, I'll make sure nothing happens to her that you won't want. Also, quick note. You don't get to fuck her, until I get Vicky, understand? Alright, let's go see our new digs."

Standing up, Amelia saw that she was the only one to do so. Rachel was still hammering herself up and down on the dildo, making the table shake alarmingly, Lisa had collapsed backwards onto Taylor's legs, twitching and gasping with her tails spread out across the floor, even as Taylor continued her assault on Lisa's fluffy ears, Alec had turned on the TV, and Brian was only just now getting to his feet.

"Okay, maybe we wait a bit for everyone to calm down."

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuckme, FUCKMEEE!"

Amelia winced at the sound of shattering glass.

"Goddamnit."

Audio Erotica

(Автор: Ziel)

"Hey Harb, pass me the knife oil, would you?"

Harbinger looked up from his book to find Jack staring expectantly at him. The other teen had his extensive collection of blades laid out across the small table that serviced the RV's dining area.

The bottle of oil sat in one of the little cubbies lining the hallway back to the bedroom. Harbinger picked it up and tossed it to Jack. The trajectory and necessary force were child's play, and the bottle landed in Jack's waiting hand.

"Thanks."

Jack returned to his cleaning, and Harbinger to his book. After a few moments, the sharp smell of oil filled the RV, and he looked up again. Jack was intent on his work, running over each knife with care, working them with a rag until they shone.

In the back of his mind, Harbinger's powers helpfully detailed which knife was Jack's favorite based on patterns of wear and tear.

Pointless data. Why would it matter?

It wasn't like he had any intention of getting Jack a new blade for his birthday. The only occasion that would possibly have warranted it in recent memory was killing King, and celebrating in such a way was something Harbinger found incredibly... crass. Distasteful, for no real reason.

No. He wouldn't be doing any such thing. Why had he even thought of it to begin with?

Metal clinked as Jack returned what looked like a potato peeler to the table. Light glinted off the blades, reflecting off the chiseled planes of Jack's face. The sight made Harbinger feel—

Harbinger blinked. What was that?

He looked hard at Jack. The black-haired teen was sighting down the edge of a blade that would have looked at home in a bad fantasy film, all jagged edges and spikes.

Nothing.

No reaction at all to the way Jack's strong, callused hands worked over the knife with the rag. What would those hands feel like on—

What.

Harbinger closed his book with a snap. He rose from his chair and turned to face Jack. His power told him the steps— 6.8 feet to cross between them. He'd like nothing better than to go to Jack. Go to him and brush back his hair, run it through his fingers. Let Jack take his glasses off, turn the world blurry but for their passion.

"Jack," Harbinger said. "I-"

Need to tell you that I love you.

He flinched.

"I think that someone is using their power on me and-"

I can't deny these feelings any more. Take me now.

Jack looked up, a corkscrew between two fingers.

"Oh yeah?" He cocked his head for a moment. "Ah. I wondered what that was. Kind of a... narrator kind of thing? Keeps telling you to do weird stuff with me?"

"Yes!" Harbinger said, relief flooding through him.

Jack understood. He knew what was happening. It was a sign that they were kindred spirits and that they should totally, totally bang right now on the kitchen table.

Harbinger tuned that thought out. Once he knew what the effect was, it was easy to ignore it. Ignore how Jack's unbuttoned shirt exposed a tender length of tanned flesh and the edge of one sharp collarbone and—

"What now!?" Harbinger snapped.

Jack shrugged. "It's probably nothing." He stood, putting a finger to his lips. "I think we should just go back to what we were doing and..." Jack grinned, appearing to listen for a moment. "Christen every room in the RV with our passion?"

Harbinger made to speak, but Jack made the shushing gesture again, pointing at the door. They moved together, sliding toward the exit without a sound.

"Yeah, probably nothing, like I said," Jack continued. He placed a hand on the door latch. "I think it's probably just hormones. Teen boy stuff and all that."

Harbinger nodded. "Right. Would you like to remove your shirt?"

Yes!

This time he heard it. The tiny little whisper in his ear— a voice that wasn't his intruding on his thoughts.

Jack held up three fingers. Dropped one. Two. Three.

They burst out the door.

A muffled squeal rose from the other side of the RV, and they rushed toward it. He outpaced Jack, running on the perfect trajectory to hook the side of the vehicle and turn at top speed. The campground outside was deserted— cleared earlier by the Nine, and the noise of someone scrabbling away through the dead leaves was loud and obvious.

They caught up to the stranger in moments.

The girl was stumbling along, pants around her ankles, trying to reach one of the tents set up nearby. The instant she saw that they'd caught her; she squeaked and tripped over her pants, landing in the dirt.

Harbinger glared down at the girl.

A tangled mane of black hair hung down around her face, nearly covering her luminescent blush.

"Screamer," Jack said, grinning broadly.

"What have I told you about using your power on me?" Harbinger added.

The scrawny little teen quivered, her eyes tearful.

"P-please, it was just a joke. Don't— please don't kill me!"

"I don't know," Jack said.

He dropped to a crouch and tugged Screamer's grubby t-shirt up, exposing her panties. They were crooked over one bony hip, with Screamer's thatch of pubic hair sticking out the top. The dark patch on the crotch was readily apparent.

"Looks like you were getting off to the thought of me and Harbinger together," Jack continued. "Thought you'd play matchmaker, huh?"

"N-no!" Screamer stammered. "I just thought— you and him are perfect for each other, b-but Harbinger is a huge stick in the mud."

Harbinger began calculating the proper angle to punch Screamer's obnoxious little throat in. Something of it seemed to show on his face, because the scrawny teen cried out.

"Don't!"

"Now now," Jack interjected, putting out a hand to stop him. "She meant well, Harbinger. Even if she was getting her jollies in the process."

"Thank you!" Screamer blubbered, fat tears beginning to roll down her flushed face. "Oh thank you, thank you-"

Jack touched a finger to her lips, and she fell silent at once.

"However," he said. "Intentions aside, you did try to manipulate us. That's rather... rude, isn't it, Screamer? And having us fuck like bunnies in every room of the RV? Downright discourteous to the other members of the Nine."

Harbinger cleared his throat. Jack needed to speed things up.

"As punishment," Jack drawled, "I think Screamer needs a hands-on lesson on what she was trying to start."

He stared at Jack.

"What?"

Jack beamed at him. "A three-way, Harbinger, a three-way! Unless you're telling me that you're not curious? Not even a little?"

Harbinger frowned and pushed his glasses up his nose. Jack was being ridiculous. Just because Screamer had messed with them was no reason to— it was stupid. There was nothing there anyway.

Screamer was a perverted little girl who could conjure romance from nothing.

He and Jack were partners. And not in that way. There was no veiled tension, no pining romance. He wasn't really distracted by the way Jack's shirt was fluttering in the breeze, his sculpted muscles like—

"Screamer!" Harbinger yelled.

"Wasn't me!" she shrieked. "Honest to god!"

"Curious, Harbinger?" Jack teased.

Harbinger snorted. Jack's grin was so smug it ought to be illegal. Even if it did play up his jawline, and the way his dark hair framed his face. It was—

Fuck.

He was going to kill Screamer for this.

"Fine," Harbinger sighed.

Jack's grin got even wider, and Screamer made a noise like a dog whistle.

"Really!?" she squealed. "You and him and-" Her voice dropped an octave, suddenly husky. "And me."

Jack nodded to him, and they bent down to catch Screamer under her arms. They rose and walked back to the RV, the short girl pressed in between them. Somewhere along the way, she let her legs go limp and shucked her pants off entirely. Jack shed his shirt while somehow managing to keep hold off Screamer.

Harbinger merely smiled ruefully and took off his glasses.

When they came to the stairs into the RV, Jack hoisted Screamer into a bridal carry. The skinny girl looked like Christmas had come early as Jack carried her in. At the top of the stairs, Jack turned to look back at Harbinger, still standing at the bottom.

"Coming?" Jack asked.

Harbinger allowed himself a small smile.

"Yes."

He kicked the door shut behind him.

Library Pass

(Автор: Master of Squirrel-fu)

She was the original Cape some would say. Maybe not the first, but when people think Capes the first name that comes to mind isn't Legend who leads the Protectorate. It isn't Eidolon who is the strongest man alive. Nor even the Golden Man who despite his constant acts of selflessness has always been held estranged from the concept. On a another level entirely I suppose. But no, the first person one thinks when it comes to Capes is Alexandria.

She's the super man. Hell she is Superman. Sure old school franchises declined in the wake of real life heroes but they aren't gone if you know where to look. The Paragon parahuman Alexandria. The lying Illuminati bitch Rebecca Costa Brown. Yeah, any old hero worship I had died when I'd met her. What respect I had left was killed when I saw her face and learn just who she was. I hated her, I hated what she'd done, I hated that she was still doing it. What I hated most... that she was right. She was a necessity. I hadn't learned exactly what her end goal was but, what I could put together with Lisa had not painted a pretty picture. She was probably far worse than I knew, but she thought it was needed for something big. Even in the present she couldn't be dismissed, she held together too much, she was too important to the world. As a symbol and as a power.

And she had just walked through the door of my interrogation room to stand next to the man who had made no small attempt to ruin me. I had more control than to glare at her but I could feel myself tense in surprise and honest to god fear. This was not something I had planned for. I steadied myself even as I felt my swarms begin to become more active. Was that my own subconscious, or was it you passenger? I received nothing back nor sign to pick at.

Alexandria stood beside the much more vindictive looking Tagg. The contrast was almost comical, Tagg while not short was of average height, actually coming in about the same height as myself. In contrast Alexandria was about a head and a half shorter. His immaculate suit clashed horribly against her dark all covering skin night suit, cape, and helm. Even their air seemed different as Tagg held himself like a man about on the verge of inevitable victory while Alexandria appeared serious but guarded. I'm hoping that could only be a good thing.

Alexandria stepped forward and placed a hand on the table, not even needing to lean over to do so.

"Well I believe we should get started," She reached behind her head to fiddle with something on her helmet, "I believe I'm up to speed on current events. Excepting if Director Tagg has made any agreements or concessions I was not informed of."

"Sadly, he hasn't," My lawyer said.

"Good, then let's begin," She retracted the hand behind her head to place it on the front of her helmet. And with a simple tug and a click it released, having no doubt been unlocked moments prior. She pulled the offending piece of costume off to reveal a shockingly youthful face. I'd almost not recognized her, but with a more focused look I was able to pick out the traits of the former Chief Director now a teen not much older than myself. While probably not appropriate given the situation some small part of me felt a petty bit of satisfaction that she had freckles. She smiled, "Good evening Mr. Hebert, Ms. Hebert, Mr. Calle. I am the PRT's Deputy Chief Director Rebecca Costa Brown, though I'm sure you'd likely know me better as Alexandria."

She raised a hand. My dad looked dumbfounded, I think he might have been shell shocked. The many revelations in the last few hours, his estranged daughter being a villainous ganglord, an upcoming apocalypse, was not something he was equipped to handle. The unmasking of The Parahuman Heroine to reveal a girl who didn't look she was conceived when her alter ego first appeared seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. I could almost see what little grasp he had left of the situation and reality seem to fall apart from his morphing expression.

"I don't get it." I nodded probably looking similarly lost.

I couldn't fathom a reason for her to intentionally unmask herself, a cape, a conspirator with so much to hide and lose, she should more than most capes should have realized how counter intuitive the thought was. Yes, I'd seen her face and yes she was powerful, terrifyingly powerful, but I couldn't think of what she'd gain from such a gesture.

"Consider it a sign of good faith, for your peace of mind. My identity might already be known to your daughter as well as many others thanks to the recent Incident but I hope that as a gesture it's acceptable," Tagg nodded to her explanation as the heroine lowered her hand having been left hanging, "I will be taking over this case from Director Tagg given the wide reaching nature of this situation. I simply wanted to get off on the right foot. I am willing to listen Taylor's demands, I will not necessarily concede but I will extend this olive branch in the name of progress."

"You can't be seriously considering this!" Tagg slammed his hands down on the table while everyone, including myself gaped at the seemingly guileless peace offering that had been simply given to me. Tagg wasn't quite glaring at his superior, but was getting as close as I think he was willing risk before being insubordinate. The man looked quite like he'd swallowed something foul but didn't want to spit it up while being watched. He continued, "She's a Domestic Terrorist, a para-human villain who is responsible for dozens of high profile and felonious crimes possibly at the root of the incident ten days ago. With all due respect Director, Taylor Hebert is a threat to our Stability that needs to be taken care o-"

"I am well aware of Ms Hebert's actions, Director," Her voice wasn't cold, it wasn't even that mechanical. It was a simple statement but it stopped the man cold. Alexandria met his eyes seeming to tower over the man by sheer presence alone. She wasn't as her appearance made her to be, a girl in a costume. This was not some mere cape. Not some mere human. This was a woman who'd battled unstoppable juggernauts, forces of nature and madness, and horrors I probably couldn't imagine for twice as long as I'd been alive. I swallowed and held my ground even as her gaze flitted to me, my swarm working into a buzz so frenzied I worried they might be discovered. She nodded and returned to staring down her subordinate, "Do not think you are in any position to be giving orders here Director, You're concerns have been heard and noted, now take your seat. Good, I have read the reports and looked into Ms. Hebert's existing files, I am also privy to far more extensive files and information. It is not any arrogance that I can say my grasp of the situation, my ability to account for the consequences, and my knowledge of Ms Hebert her actions and her intentions far outstrip yours."

The director silently seethed in his chair.

This was probably a really good turn around for me. Even if it some kind of trap I'd at least be heard without descent it seemed. I still felt a chill run down my spine at her words, particularly the last bit about me. Just how well did she know me? I could be a bluff but I doubted it was, at least not fully. Just how extensive was her knowledge, how well did her mental image of Taylor Hebert match reality?

"And how you obtained this information of course being..." I lead. I already knew the answer and she knew I knew, I doubt she'd phrase it like that unless she wanted me to notice. Perhaps noticing my tone dad turned to me.

"Not something to discuss while those without access or knowledge of those resources are present," Was her swift rebuttal.

I frowned at the words. She held my gaze for a moment before returning to my father and lawyer.

"Mr. Hebert, Mr. Calle, while I did agree to listen to your daughter and client I do have one stipulation," Here it comes, "I will need to speak with Taylor privately during that time."

Calle's face was unreadable, no doubt from years of experience. But I doubt it mattered much against Alexandria's iron will.

"I'm afraid that isn't agreeable," He placed his hand on my shoulder, "I serve my client's best interests and you can't expect me to preform my job when removed entirely."

"My apologies Mr. Calle but this over is non-negotiable. I will need to discuss topics that need to be kept... discreet. This is highly classified information, not something that can be shared so freely."

Again I couldn't judge my own lawyers, thoughts on the matter. He squeezed my shoulder, though whether in warning or comfort or even something else entirely I can't be sure. I wonder how much he believed her, that she and I could share some world shattering secret between us. Even to me that seemed rather like an almost tauntingly thin cover story.

"We'll sign what ever papers you need to stay," It was dad. It felt like a knife through my back to hear the thinly veiled desperation as the situation speed further from his limited ability to control. Or even have the illusion of some kind of control, "I'm staying with my-"

I cut him off, grabbing his hand that he'd placed near me on the table. I gave him a as reassuring a smile as I could manage when he turned back to me before I returned to my staring contest with the worlds toughest woman. This woman is a schemer, an unrepentant liar. She is a someone that could even be labeled a monster. If my death could further what agenda she has she would not hesitate to arrange it. This woman's words might well be poison. Trust not the viper, wasn't that the moral of the fable?

"It's okay. I agree with your condition Rebecca," If she was going to be using my first name I would be doing likewise. If it bothered her she gave no indication. Calle however squeezed my shoulder again and leaned in to whisper to me.

"Ms. Hebert are you entirely sure about this, as I said I can't offer any assistance from behind a soundproof door," He wasn't talking about legal advise I was sure, the man had picked up on the tension, that something quite shady was occurring. Experience or skill I don't know which, either way he was really proving himself to be worth the sum I was paying him and then some. I gave him a reassuring nod. He gave one last squeeze and handed me his notepad and pen.

"Be sure to keep notes, even if you think you'll remember it it still helps to have the information in plain sight and organized. You can reach me if you need any help."

"Don't worry Mr. Calle, I won't be taking any deals without consulting your first. I hope this won't be a problem, Rebecca?"

"Not at all, I trust you're intelligent enough to be discreet when you need to Taylor."

"Of course."

My father and lawyer got up to leave, and Alexandria turned to her two companions. It was a long awkward moment before they seemed to realize that they weren't invited either. Miss Militia just nodded and walked out even nodding at my dad for holding the door for her. Tagg seemed like he wanted to murder someone. Likely me. Still he left as well. With that the door clicked shut and I was alone with Alexandria.

Trust. That's what was needed now. So many tragedies could have been avoided with a little bit more trust, some understanding and cooperation. Petty squabbling would solve nothing, cloak and dagger antics only fueled the paranoia. That needed to change, and to do so some Olive Branches needed to be given, and those same branches needed to be received. Rebecca had given it to me and I'd taken it from her.

Meanwhile upstairs several roaches and beetles were frantically trying to input the cell number for Lisa in a mobile I'd found in one of the unoccupied offices. Just because I was taking a chance doesn't mean I wasn't going to be stupid about it.

Alexandria smiled at me, "That much will do I suppose."

Shit she knew. I have now idea how but she figured out I had a back up.

The woman, who was rapidly climbing even higher on my list of capes to avoid at all costs, took a seat where Tagg had been, steeping her fingers together in front of her face.

"Now, let's get down to business."


* * *

In a location that not even the architects themselves where aware of 4 of the most influential and dangerous people gathered to sit at the table. Nothing was said, a man in a hood crossed his arms in silence the suited man adjacent him closed his eyes where he stood. Across the table a dark skinned older woman in a labcoat, her ethnicity immutable, typed away on a laptop and beside her a younger woman of seeming similar ethnic origins was busy with writing a letter.

After several minutes nothing changed before a hexagonal hole in space spontaneously appeared in the room. None of the occupants showed now major reaction, the hooded and robed ones mere glancing in that direction. Out o the hole stepped Alexandria.

"I just finished up with our newest project," She announced taking her seat, "She's not quite on board yet but I believe in time she will be."

The doctor nodded while Eidolon scoffed.

"I don't see why the sudden interest in the Herbert girl," The man shook his head, "Her powers offer nothing of use and her actions can jeopardize what we've worked so hard to accomplish."

"She can prove to be a valuable asset David, Taylor Hebert has proven herself to be a person one should not underestimate," Alexandria offered a half grin, reminded of a certain other young girl who had a simple power that was constantly undersold. David too seemed to have the same revaluation.

"Is that it? You shouldn't project yourself on the girl Rebecca, it's unbecoming."

Alexandria shot him a look so fast and so sharp that one could say that Eidolon's flinch was knock back from the air pressure and none would argue. He sagged and lowered his head knowing he'd gone a bit to far in his bitterness over the whole situation. He sighed and offered in a more civil tone, "What ever Hebert may be, it doesn't explain the resources and effort we're putting behind this now. If you just wanted an apprentice or a new member we could have just arranged some accidents and abducted her from prison with none the wiser."

"That," Everyone whipped their attention to the normally silent companion of The Doctor. She proceeded with her writing as priority even as she continued the her explanation, "Is because her existence is of vital importance to our cause. The oracle cape, Dinna, sees a version of Taylor Hebert existing in the vast majority of her apocalyptic predictions. Predictions about an impossible to discern disaster taking place in the next 10 to 30 years or 2 years if provoked by Jack Slash."

"The longer time line fits about our estimated future projections for either the collapse of society by the Endbringers or the extinction event of Scion completing his choose purpose," Doctor mother closed, "We've done research into this and the girl is linked to it somehow if not as the lynchpin than some other major part, We need to observe her, if all proves well we might find out something new about either of those disasters and a way to delay if not stop them."

No one said anything. In all honesty they'd all to some degree or another given up hope of actually winning rather than prolonging the end. The Doctors words rung hollow in their ears.

But still it rung.

"I'll be taking charge of the girl, she's smart she'll realize why soon. Probably sooner than even I give her credit for, we'll see what becomes of this hopefully we might get some fresh blood in here."

And with that final statement the meeting ended and all but two went on their way. Alexandria stepped up to Contessa who was putting the finishing touches on her note.

"What can I do to help?"

"This isn't a mission," Contessa said, Alexandria didn't hide her surprise there. The suited girl lifted up her newly finished letter up to the hispanic girl. Their eyes met for a moment before Contessa lowered her gaze down and to the left, "Consider this a gift. From me."

Alexandria didnt' buy it.

"What's this," she said skimming the pages then froze. Her voice cracked, "What is this?"

"Like I said it's a gift," Contessa still couldn't meet her colleges' eye, a breech of her usual cold confidence by an unbelievable magnitude, "You do a lot for us Rebecca. You've given up a lot for us. I wanted to thank you. You'll find yourself with a lot more free time soon and I made that to help you."

And that was something Alexandria could see in the papers. The probable was that this wasn't exactly help she wanted to accept. For a number of reasons.

"'Path to getting friendlier with Taylor: Steps 1101', 'Path to convincing Taylor to go on a date: Steps 683'; 'Path to perfect first date with Taylor: Steps 402'. What... what exactly do you think my interest in the girl is Contessa!? 'P-Path to HAPPY ENDING WITH TAYLOR'!?" She sinceriely hoped that last one did not mean what she thought it did.

Contessa just gave her a thumbs up, "273 steps! I left the fun decisions up to you but It's guaranteed to be a great night!"

Amelia: bonus Scenes

(Автор: TanaNari)

Ch 337 — Victoria

Glory Girl/Chevalier smut! Continuation from chapter 337 of my 'fic. Completely canon to that story.

The chapter is reasonably self contained, you shouldn't be confused if you're not a reader of Amelia. Although it'll help if you've read Worm up to Leviathan.


* * *

He took his time with the kiss, running his tongue softly along mine. There was no rush as he ran his fingers through my hair or bit softly on my bottom lip. I'd experience lust before, a fair few times. I'd even had the fortune of experiencing love. What Michael was doing to me was something new. It was seduction, and he was very good at it. When he pulled away, I was aching for more.

I looked at him, begging him with my eyes to continue.

He handed me his keys and offered a smile that made my heart, and panties, melt. "Would you mind warming up my car while I take care of the check?"

"You're not nearly as charming as you think you are," I narrowed my eyes.

"You can back out if you want," he offered with utmost confidence. We both knew that wasn't going to happen.

I grabbed the keys and left. By the time he was got to the car, it was warmed up, and so was I. He opened the door and slid in, then looked over at me. I smiled dreamily at him as I let him enjoy the scent of my arousal filling the car.

"I decided to get an early start, hope you don't mind." I moved my purse so he could see where I had hitched up my dress, exposing the blue silk underwear I had selected to go with the rest of the gown. They were slipped over to the side, and two of my fingers were idly rubbing the lips. He just stared for a moment. I never bothered shaving my slit, the hairless look was for closet pedophiles. Still, my naturally thin and light hair didn't conceal much.

"Umm, no, that's fine," he agreed as he started the car.

I didn't tease him, or myself, much during the trip. Just enough to keep the heat on for the fifteen or twenty minute drive, and to guarantee my aroma dominated the small space in the car. It'll smell like me for at least a day or two. Damn that made me hot.

He parked in front of his apartment and we were out in record time. I jumped him before we even got to the door, wrapping my legs around his hips and kissing him passionately, grinding my wet panties against the hard bulge in his pants. He had one hand gripping my ass and the other entering the code to get him in the door. By the time he carried me up the three stories to his door, we were both panting and it wasn't from the exercise. The moment after we got into the room, he turned us around and slammed me hard up against the door.

I finally allowed myself the luxury to moan out loud as he grabbed my dress and slipped it off my shoulders, exposing my chest. I met his eyes for a second as I gripped my D sized cups and squeezed my tits together. "Like them?" I asked.

"Oh yes," he growled.

"Good," I smiled. Then I pulled the bra apart, exposing a pair of breasts that could only be as large and as perky as they were thanks to my powers. My nipples stood out like brown pencil erasers from their recent experience with the bra's destruction. The sound and feel of fabric giving way the most unbelievably sensual thing I had ever experienced, and part of why Dean was always buying me new clothes. If I knew where to get another copy of my dress, I'd have shredded it, too.

His mouth was on my left nipple immediately. I gasped and gripped his head. "Oh fuck!" I groaned. He sucked harder, rolling the nipple between his tongue and teeth. I allowed my durability to lower enough that I actually felt the slight pain mixed in with the pleasure, and it was incredible. Meanwhile, his hands had worked their way below, one holding my ass while the other rubbed my pussy through my panties.

"Rip them off," I demanded, tugging his hair. He looked up at me, his mouth not leaving my breast. He dug his fingers through the waistline and pulled. He was strong, even if he didn't have my superhuman strength. The fabric stretched painfully against my clit before it started to tear. I shuddered and cried out as I experienced the first of what I was hoping was a lot of orgasms tonight.

"I think I just discovered a new fetish," he commented, then kissed me passionately before I could respond. Meanwhile, he ran his fingers along my lips, avoiding both my clit and the hole in his teasing. "So, does that work in reverse? Because I'm not terribly attached to this shirt."

I ran my hands down his back and to his sides, finding my grips below his arms and pulling outward. I'd had a lot of practice at this, and with the right twisting, both the back and front was rent in a single tug, exposing the best abs I had ever seen in person. And I used to spar with Aegis and Browbeat. "You tell me," I replied.

He answered with another kiss as his hands worked down below. I gasped as one of his fingers slipped into my ass. I wasn't completely sure if that was an accident, but he didn't take it out and I didn't want him to. I pushed down against the finger, demanding more of it inside me as I moaned into his mouth. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders as a second finger penetrated my back door. I thrust back against his hand as he kept finger fucking me.

"Oh god, I'm going to cum!" I informed my lover. He lifted me up a bit higher, and suckled on my right tit as I started cumming to his fingers. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, I caught my breath. "Fuck, that's never happened to me before."

"Which part?" He asked from his place at my breast.

"Anal," I admitted. "I wish someone had told me it could feel like that."

"Glad you liked it," he responded.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, I need you to fuck me for real," I demanded.

"My condoms are in the bedroom," he stated.

"No need," I insisted. "The only way I could be any more protected is if I was made of Endbringer tissue. Now get that cock inside me yesterday."

He didn't argue. I felt his head rubbed against my slit just long enough to find the passage, and then he thrust up hard into my very ready pussy. I screamed as he punched through my hymen and sent me into yet another shuddering climax. The pain only made the pleasure that much better.

"Oh, shit," he muttered. "I'm sorry, if I'd known, I would have been more careful ab-"

I covered his mouth with the same hand that I'd used to finger myself earlier. "Michael, I'm not a virgin. Just a side effect of... well, healing powers aren't always selective about these sorts of things."

"If you're sure," he replied, looking concerned for my wellbeing. I felt very loved at that moment, and it was even more wonderful than the cock filling my insides.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I grunted. Fuck that thing's a monster. I wonder if Amy gave him a few special enhancements when she healed him. "We'll do gentle later, I promise. But right now I need you to fuck me like you're trying to break my hips. Because if you don't, I promise I'll break yours."

He grabbed my hips and slammed hard into me, pressing me up against the door. I felt his cock hit something in the back, and I saw stars. It felt like I was getting punched in the stomach. I fucking loved it.

"Keep. Uh. Going!" I demanded, as I pulled my legs against his back. I made sure to keep the super strength off as I squeezed against him. Including clenching my pussy around his shaft. I was rewarded with a very satisfying moan escaping his lips.

He dipped his head down and went back to sucking on my breast, rolling my hard nipple in his mouth again.

"You really, mmmm, like my tits don't you?" I asked.

Michael looked up at me. "They're perfect," he growled at me, squeezing them together and sucking both nipples at once.

"Damn," I groaned. "If I didn't, ugh, know better. I'd swear you were trying to milk me." I gasped as I felt his cock pulse inside me. "Ah! Is that something you're into? Do you want to suck the milk out of my tits?"

He answered by pushing a couple of his fingers into my ass again, well lubricated from the juices running out of my pussy. "Oh shit! That's it! Fuck both my holes!"

I gripped his hair and pulled him away, to kiss him as I came. He slammed into my pussy and ass mercilessly as I rode my orgasm.

"Oh god, oh god, I need to feel you cum. Do it, fill my cunt!" I was rocked with my second climax in quick succession as he kept fucking me like a champion. He groaned and met me with another passion filled kiss, moaning into my mouth as his cock swelled inside me. I came again as the hot stream of cum flooded my insides.

He held me there like that, just kissing me as we calmed down from our session. Eventually, his shaft softend enough to slip out of me, and I felt the wetness of our combined fluids run down my inner thigh. I shuddered from the delicious feeling.

"Wow," I sighed gazing into his eyes. "That was incredible." I kissed him again, this time a soft, quick kiss.

"Yeah," he agreed breathlessly. "Wow."

I giggled. "So, milking, huh?" I teased.

"So, destroying clothing, huh?" He teased right back.

"So, sticking fingers in a teenage girl's ass without warning them first," I added. To emphasize my point, I clenched my sphincter, squeezing his fingers.

He shrugged. "Okay, you got me."

"Mmmm, maybe," I agreed. "But the night's still young, I think I can top that one."

"You're the one with super strength," he replied, brushing some stray hair out of my face before kissing me. "I couldn't stop you, even if I wanted to."

"Good point," I agreed, then I started kissing down his chest, kneeling in front of him. I ran my tongue along his shaft, tasting the mix of my juices and his cum, plus the faint metallic flavor of blood from my no longer restored maidenhead. I wrapped my lips around his head and slowly drew him into my mouth, then swallowed as I pushed forward, bringing him into my throat. He groaned and gripped my hair. I considered letting him do me this way, but rejected the idea, pulling away.

I looked up at Michael and smiled. "Remember what I said about gentle?"

"Yeah, I remember," he confirmed.

"Well, it'll have to wait for another night," I informed him, standing and kissing him hard. Sharing our combined flavors. I shuddered in pleasure again when he swallowed his part of the mix. Oh yeah, this is going to be one hell of a night.

Chapter 404 — Amelia / Taylor

A/N— More Smut! Unlike the bonus chapter of Vicky and Chevalier going at it, this one is officially a chapter unto itself. It has PLOT!

But mostly it's just lesbian sexy time.


* * *

The festivities behind us, we retired to our home. We hesitated for a moment, a flicker of thought jumping between us. Do it.

Taylor looked over me and laughed. "You're really demanding, sometimes."

I batted my eyes at her. "You know you want to."

AgreementLoveAnticipation. A wide smile crept over her angular face, reminding me for the millionth time that, through some miracle, shy, perverse little Amy Dallon grew up and married a smart, sweet, loving woman. Who just so happened to have the body of a supermodel. "Mrs. Amelia Hebert."

My heart fluttered. I was going to get a lot of mileage out of that. Well, time to put Rapture's advice to heart. "Good. Time for me to..." I hesitated for a moment, afraid I was about to make myself look stupid. It only lasted a second, I didn't care. She married me, looking stupid in front of each other was part of the contract. "Reward you." SurpriseConfusionInterest. Well, that's something. Proves Rapture was at least a little right. Gave me confidence for the next part.

I reached up and slipped my fingers through Taylor's beautifully cared for hair. She anticipated the kiss, was even happy to do it, in the same way she was happy to hold me. But that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted her to be eager for it. I twirled my fingers in her hair and formed a fist, tugging her head. SurpriseThrillWhat'sGottenIntoYou? I pulled her into what would be our third real kiss. Second if you discounted the first as not really being us, and Taylor not even having memory of it. She kissed back softly, shyly even.

Not enough, not this time. I squeezed her hair a little harder. She moaned into my mouth, and it wasn't just from the shock or pain. I could sense her arousal, as her body reacted to what I was doing. Her tongue tangled with mine as she reached and grabbed my hair, preventing me from breaking the kiss. But eventually, we had to come up for air. She smiled hungrily. "So, is that what Rapture told you to do?"

"Her strategy. My tactics." SmugAppealingToMyCompetitiveSide. Exactly. Not like I expected to keep it a secret from you.

She leaned forward, and her forehead rested on mine. "So, what does that make me? The enemy team?"

I had two and a half years of knowing her, and two of them more intimately than any two people should be capable of. Rapture said she wanted to yield, to let someone else be in control, but she was still competitive as ever. "More like the battlefield itself." I brought my knee up into her crotch, violently. "And the prize to be won."

LoveDesireWhyDidThatTurnMeOn? There was no risk of my display hurting her. Our armor was such that there was no way we could hurt each other through it. Not with mere physical attacks, at least. I moved quickly, using the combat training that came from our equipment and years of practice, knocking her legs out from under her and lifting her up. If we were being honest, I only had the strength thanks to the armor, and the skill thanks to Taylor not resisting. I walked toward our front door, carrying her bridal style. It was a silly practice, it was unnecessary, and it was so much fun. I carried her through the threshold of our home together.

This time, she initiated the kiss, gripping me and locking her mouth to mine, obscuring my face. TrustMeToGuideYou. I felt the pressure of my armor, her exerting light control over the legs, bidding me to continue walking. Our hair, mussed by a combination of the effort to force it to be perfect for the wedding, and the rough treatment we'd given each other earlier, became an effective blinding screen around us. She stopped using the armor to control my movements, instead guiding me through our bond. It was an act of trust, of sharing control.

I felt wetness on my face not related to our admittedly less than expert attempts at kissing. I'm crying? WhyAmICrying? We broke the kiss for a fit of giggles.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Taylor muttered, blushing profusely. She didn't break eye contact. But our eyes were the least of the ways we could see one another.

"You can still back out," I offered. I envisioned what I was going to do to her. We couldn't convey images yet, but we could convey ideas. Meanwhile, I was still following her near automatic directions. I carried her down the staircase without even trying to see where I was going. I don't need to see, I have her to guide me.

Her smile went from shy to predatory. "Oh, we both know that's not going to happen. Taylor Hebert does not back down from anyone." She leaned in, brushing her lips against my ear as she whispered. "Not even her wife."

I moaned a little, and bit her neck. The taste was a rather unpleasant mix of makeup and sweat from the dancing. I loved it anyway. I loved the mewling sound she made a great deal more. "Talking about yourself in third person? I thought you got over that supervillain phase."

I bit down harder and she writhed against me. "Bad girl." A thought opened the door to our bedroom. I couldn't even tell if it was Taylor's thought or my own, it would respond to either of us. We hesitated for a moment as I set her down and the door closed behind us.

There was nothing in this room we hadn't seen a hundreds of times before, but somehow there was a new meaning in it, in what we both had no doubts was going to happen in just a few short minutes. We slipped out of our uniforms, a process more like molting than undressing, leaving us in the light shorts and t-shirts we tended to use as both underarmor and sleepwear. Those are on the list of things no longer allowed in our bed. Taylor looked at me, it took her a moment to puzzle out the sentiment.

I walked forward, wrapping my hands around her. Our bodies pressed together, the warmth of our body heat and the pleasure of skin on skin instead of inch thick Endbringer hybrid biotech that could shrug off antitank weaponry. She hesitated for a moment, apparently she liked it better with the armor on. Right, Rapture's advice. I have to take charge, and I have to do it completely.

I moved my hands up to her chest, brushing over her petite, but incredibly firm breasts. I squeezed them, eventually finding her smallish nipples through the fabric. She shuddered at the sensation. Oh, I am going to have fun with these. NervousDesireApprehensionAreWe— If you want to back out, I won't stop you. But I'm going to at least force you to say it. I pushed, and she fell back onto the bed. I was on her a moment later, straddling her hips, pinning her shoulders down. She wriggled, pretending to struggle, putting enough effort into it that she might even have broken someone else's hold.

I slid down slightly, shuddering involuntarily as my sensitive pussy rubbed against her through the flimsy excuse for clothing. I probably left a streak of moisture down her navel to just above her own sex. She gasped. PleasureDesireSurprise.

I smiled down at her beautiful face wreathed in that luxurious dark hair she loved so much. I had to admit, it was one of my favorite features. But she had a lot of features I liked. I let go of her shoulders to cup them and squeeze her breasts together. Her hands came up, grabbing my upper arms, digging her fingers into my skin as she moaned and writhed beneath me. The flush of her face her face wasn't the result of the makeup anymore.

I regretfully took my hands away from her body, reaching up and grabbing hers, then leaning forward as I slammed them hard into the bed again. SurpriseDesireWhy? "I'm in control here." My voice was low, husky with desire. What was it about this that makes people feel like they have to whisper? "You're not allowed to touch me, or yourself, until I give you permission. And that's not going to happen until you beg me for it."

I felt that same stubborn will surge up as her eyes locked on mine. "Is that so? Do you think I'm so easy to break?"

I smiled down at her, confident. "I won't even need to use my powers."

FearAnticipationDetermination. This is going to be a challenge. I put my hands under my sides, grabbing the shirt and sports bra, pulling them off together. Her lack of interest in my body was disappointing, but hardly unexpected. I still had every intent of making her love it by the end of the night. I slipped down a little further, finding myself near her knees. I traced my hands along her slender hips, tugging her shorts down just enough to expose her slit, hidden behind a mound of dark hair. ShyShouldHaveShavedMy. No. I'm more than happy with this.

I leaned in and kissed just above the fur, then slowly dragging my mouth further down. Her hips bucked up, anticipating what came next. She'd be anticipating for a while longer. I moved up again, kissing my way along her stomach. DisappointmentDesireNeedDetermination. Good, I'd actually be disappointed if she caved that easily. I let my hands move along her hips, along her ribs. Sadly, she really wasn't ticklish, that could have been fun.

I slipped my hands into her shirt, pushing it up. She shifted her back to let me remove the garment, and I learned I could still be more turned on as I watched her well defined muscles shift. I'd better be careful, or it's going to be me begging before the end of this. I stopped removing her shirt just as it slipped over her face. Her arms above her head, her body so tantalizingly vulnerable. I kept a hand on her shirt, keeping her from moving it without breaking the no touching rule. I leaned down, running by tongue between her breasts. The same salty flavor, but without the makeup. This, I can learn to like.

I moved my other hand behind her back, searching. This is why I use sports bras, such a pain to—

"The clasp is in the front." Taylor's voice startled me.

"Thank you," I muttered, feeling utterly mortified. So much for 'I'm going to make you beg for it' girl. I pulled my hand up and easily undid the clasp, exposing her breasts. It wasn't the first time I'd seen them, wasn't even the first time I'd felt them against me, if through clothes. But it was the first time I'd ever got to enjoy them like this. They weren't that large, barely filling out a 'b' cup, but they were beautiful, perky and without a blemish on them. Her nipples were small, but stiff, jutting up at me. GoAheadIWantThis. That ended my hesitation, and I brushed my lips softly against her right nipple, sucking it slowly into my mouth.

My lover, my general, my wife moaned beneath me, arching her back. I bit down softly, and maybe I cheated a little with the powers. I didn't use them to influence her body, but I had absolute knowledge of how her physiology worked. Every nerve, every sensitive spot, a roadmap to what she loved most. I dug my fingers into her sides, gripping her narrow waist. She gasped as I hit an erogenous zone she didn't even know she had.

I pulled myself up a little more, moving in for another kiss. Pinned as she was, I controlled the tempo, kissing her forcefully, pressing her down into the bed for minutes as my hands explored her body. I broke the kiss eventually, resting my head on her shoulder. You're mine, now and forever. No one will ever be able to know you the way I know you. And I love every part of you, inside and out. She whimpered, bringing her trapped arms up, before reluctantly dropping them back down to the bed. ILoveYouSoMuchICan'tEvenBelieveIt.

My hand snaked down, slipping through her dense fuzz and finding her soaking wet labia. Taking confidence from the information my powers gave me, the position I had Taylor in, and years of practice I had with my own body. Hopefully that and enthusiasm would make up for the part where I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. She thrust up immediately, spreading her legs as best she could, inviting me to explore her depths. I drew my hand away quickly.

"Technically, I think that counts as you touching me." I whispered in her ear. HorrorDisappointmentNoDon't. "But I'll forgive you this time. Remember, you have to hold still. Unless you're ready to give in?"

WantToSoBadNotHappening. "I don't cave so easily."

"I was hoping you'd say that." I brought my hand up near her face, letting her smell her own arousal as I pulled her shirt up over her face, giving her use of her arms again. I looked into her gorgeous eyes, and slowly sucked my already wet fingers into my mouth. Yum. It really wasn't that different than my own, but considering our diets were pretty much identical, that probably made sense. AweDesireYouLikeMyTaste?

To answer her unspoken question, I turned around, laying opposite of her, and pushed her shorts and underwear down past her knees. She pulled them off with her feet and kicked them across the room, the wad of clothes finding a spot on her dresser. I smiled, that'll be a fun reminder in the morning. I crawled between her legs, resting my elbows on either side of her hips as she spread her legs for me, radiating anticipation and need. I gripped her ass and legs, pulling them apart to expose her body as intimately as her mind and soul already were. Her aroma was intoxicating.

This is it. Or, it will be soon. She was going to have to beg, first. I ran my tongue along her inner thigh, working my way down while avoiding touching her pussy itself. She whimpered, realizing that I wasn't done with my teasing. I licked her juices off her legs, and only hesitated for a moment before I went lower, into the crack of her ass. OhGodICan'tBelieveYou'dDoThat! She didn't complain, and I certainly didn't mind. I pressed my own breasts hard against her side as I kept licking everywhere except the one place she needed most.

I cheated with my power, again, getting her as close to orgasm as possible without letting her go over. She wasn't going to cum until I allowed it, and that wasn't until she begged me.

"You." She gasped, after ten long minutes of slow teasing. "Fine. You win. I'm begging you. Please."

I smiled, my breath close enough for her to feel it on her swollen lips. "Please, what?"

She groaned. DesireNeedLove. "Please let me touch you. I need to, so bad."

I smiled. "Undress me first."

RealizationHesitationIDon'tKnowIf— I let my tongue dip briefly into her virgin pussy. OhYes!No!Don'tStopNow! She didn't hesitate any more, simply reaching over and gripping my shorts, tugging at them frantically.

I shifted my hips, letting her do her thing. Then came the underwear. I didn't know where she threw them, but for the first time we were both naked in the same room. She knew what I wanted her to do, and after a moment of hesitation, I felt it. Her tongue brushed hesitantly across my clit. I came immediately. It wasn't a powerful orgasm, but a series of tremors rocked my body, and my juices spilled onto my inner thigh.

"Oh god, did I just..."

"Yeah," I agreed dreamily.

"And you came for me."

"I did."

"Do it again," she growled as she placed her mouth over my lips. I screamed as much in shock as pleasure, and felt her grab my hair, pushing my face into her pussy. She bucked against my mouth, covering my face in her juices as she started to climax hard, her legs crushing my head like a vice. I swallowed the fluids as best I could while she attacked my clit with her tongue.

Her technique was lacking, inexperienced, and she didn't have my cheat sheet to work with. But I could feel how much she loved me, and how badly she wanted me. My second climax followed, and it was earth shattering. My fingers dug into the flesh of her ass as I rode out wave afer wave of pleasure, until I was forced to make her stop sucking on my oversensitive nub.

We rolled away from each other, gasping as we both lay on the other's leg. It would be a few minutes before we could breath, before we could even pull together enough coherent thought to get words through our link.

Eventually we crawled into actually laying in the bed, smiling goofily at each other. ConcernHesitation. "Did I... was I good?"

I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, you were."

"But."

God damn it. "No one's an expert their first time."

"I'll get better."

My stomach clenched up. "Does that mean we'll keep, y'know, this?"

She tried to glare at me, but her grin ruined any chance of that working. "You already forced me to beg for it once. Try it again and I'll slap you."

That might be fun, too. SurpriseInterestDesire. Taylor rolled over toward me and gripped my hair. "Oh, no. This time I'm going to make you beg." She pushed me down, and I tasted my own juices on her lips.


* * *

Amelia bonus: Theo almost gets laid.

"That could have been us," Clarice stated the moment we were out into the open air. "The jealousy and the unnecessary strife. It doesn't take a lot to imagine what would have happened."

I hesitated for a moment. She wasn't entirely wrong, but I didn't really see that being a concern for us. "Maybe. It helps that we're better people than that. That and we have our own little secret weapon." I wrapped my arm around Missy.

"Are you calling me short?" Missy tried to look angry at me, but her scowl didn't reach my eyes. Around us, the flash of cameras went off. The reporters had managed to get here while we were inside watching the opera, and were now busily getting their photographs of us. We didn't always go out in our dress uniforms, but we had to at least sometimes or people might start looking for us when we were out of costume.

I smiled at her. "And awesome beyond all measure."

"Sucking up, huh? You have good instincts, I think I'll keep you." She leaned against my arm, smiling softly. Her green eyes showed their concern. "I still can't believe you took us to see Tristan and Isolde."

I knew what she meant instantly. German play, German playwrite. "Yeah." I hesitated for a moment, glancing at Clarice for a moment. She was sporting dark reddish brown hair lately, the color of rich mahogany. "I'm not going to let my Kaiser's ghost tarnish something beautiful. He was a horrible excuse for a father and an even worse excuse for a man, but that doesn't mean that everything he might approve of is inherently bad. I won't let him have that kind of power over my life anymore. He's not worthy of it."

Clarice smiled and nodded. She, more than anyone, would understand what I was feeling. I almost felt bad that I had these problems to work through at all, because compared to what she had been through, they were nothing. As fucked up as my own father was, he wasn't Jack Slash.

"And this is no longer about the play." Missy followed my eyes to Clarice.

I sighed. "No, I suppose not. I guess I can't help but see the parallels between us and them."

"Yeah, but we love each other. Besides, he can go sit on a metal spike and then use his power on it. We're happy, and that's all that matters." She pulled me into a kiss, and I ignored the flashes of photography catching this moment that was none of their goddamn business. I felt Missy's arm move, and felt the shift of her weight as she grabbed Clarice and pulled her closer. "We all love each other."

Clarice and I looked at each other, then glanced at the crowd. She spoke first. "No, that's okay. I... I can wait. It'll only take a few minutes."

I knew she didn't want to, though. She was so patient and understanding about the whole situation, never once complaining about it. I loved her, and Missy loved her, and we knew this was something that was hurting her. I could see in Missy's eyes that she was tired of it, and frankly so was I, but I took a halfhearted stab at talking Missy out of it. "It basically ensures both our identities are public knowledge by the end of the weekend. You know that, right?"

Missy smirked at me. "What identities? When was the last time either of us went anywhere in our civies? It's barely even a formality."

"You have a point." The last time Theo Anders did anything with people who didn't know he was a cape was when I officially took control of Medhall, over a year ago. I took in Clarice's nervously hopeful smile, and the shimmer of tears in her deep blue eyes. If there were any doubts left, that ended them. I reached my hand out for hers, which she grabbed eagerly. I ignored the murmers and camera clicks as I kissed her publically for the first time.

I heard Missy sigh beside me. "Oh, for fuck's sake." Her arm slipped between us and pushed me back. I watched the helmet of her armor open and fold back, her short golden hair sparkled in the flashing camera lights as she reached her hand up to cup Clarice's cheek.

Clarice squeaked in adorable surprise as Missy folded her backward, their faces meeting in the tangle of blonde and auburn hair. I doubted the cameras would catch how the hair seemed to float a little, a sign that Missy was using the antigrav tech in the armor to keep her from accidentally falling during the display.

I simply activated the com system to call up Amelia.

"Please tell me it's not an emergency." She did not sound happy to be hearing from me.

"Well... your little sister is currently having a very public makeout session with another girl."

I heard Taylor sigh. "I hope you don't mean Vicky." She sounded at least as annoyed as Amelia was.

Did I interrupt something... private? Yeah, probably. No wonder they're pissed. Better just to use bulletin points. "No, the other one. Missy's identity is blown. Mine won't be far behind. We've already decided okay with it. Just didn't want you to be surprised when you hear about it on the news."

"No, that's smart of you," Taylor agreed. "We'll let the PR team know, they can deal with it. That's what we pay them for."

Amelia followed up, completing the second half of the same thought the way the two of them had a habit of doing. "Don't worry. They're going to love this. But don't let them talk into announcing an engagement unless you really mean it."

Engagement? I looked over at the two girls who were still going at it. That doesn't sound like a bad idea at all, actually. "Uh, yeah, I'll keep that in mind. Bye."

"We'll discuss it more tomorrow."

"Now that that's over," Amelia's voice lowered. I heard a smack sound over the com. "Who gave you permission to speak-" Then the line went dead. I might need to tell our tech department about a that flaw. If I could find a way to do it that didn't get me fed to spiders. My thoughts were interrupted when Missy lifted Clarice back to her feet.

"And that is how you kiss a woman and mean it!" She declared, smiling wildly. Her face was flushed a little, and her hair was messy. "Now show me what you've learned."

What? "Umm... yeah, sure." Clarice's smile was no longer nervous. If anything, it was a little dreamy. I wasn't the type to be extravagantly flashy, like Missy could be at times, but I liked to think I knew what I was doing. I slipped my arms around Clarice, smiling. A simply command had the mask of my armor folding itself back. If they were going without masks, so would I. "We should have done this a long time ago."

She looked like she was about to cry again. "It's fine. We all had our reasons."

Yeah, though most of them revolved around me being compared to my father. Everything else that the media circus was about to throw at us was secondary to that fear, of me becoming like him. "I know. But those don't matter anymore. What matters is that I love you."

She moaned softly as I kissed her. I could taste the hints of strawberry from Missy's chap stick as Clarice kissed me back deep and slow. It lacked the forcefulness of Missy's more impulsive and passionate style. The two girls were so different in some ways, which was probably part of why they got along so well. There were no words for how lucky I was to have them.

We were still kissing when we got home, though we switched up who was doing the kissing as the mood struck us. I admit, I probably had as much fun watching as participating. We even tried a three way kiss, which it turns out is far too difficult to be sexy. Or fun. Or safe. We gave up before we accidentally cut off one of our tongues on the others' teeth.

Amongst the many other advantage of having Missy as a girlfriend, dinner and an opera in New York was a two minute walk. I reluctantly broke my kiss with Missy. "We probably should talk about what this means, now that our identities are open." I realized what that might sound like after a moment. "Don't get me wrong, I don't regret it for an instant. But it has some pretty huge implications. I mean, there's the stuff with Medhall, and then there's-"

Missy silenced me with a peck on the lips, sparing me from uttering the words 'your mother', and all the baggage that came with it. "Yeah, you're probably right. We've got some time before curfew, we can talk about this in my room." There was something in her voice and her eyes when she said it that made me believe talking wasn't one her mind. My heart wasn't the only thing that jumped.

"Yeah. Your room." Sadly, even with the time it took for us to go back to Missy's room, that was still the smoothest line I could come up with.

I sat down on the chair in front of the computer desk, and the girls took the bed. Of the three of us, Missy had the most spartan bedroom. Computer, bookcase, and her wardrobe that probably had fewer clothes in it than mine. Clarice glanced at the clock. "We only have about fifteen minutes."

Missy rolled her eyes a bit, but didn't say anything. Whether she respected the rules Amelia set down, she respected Clarice's need for her sister's approval. I smiled a little, thinking about how to fix that issue. Missy may have been the aggressive one, but I wasn't a complete moron. "We... could always get our own place."

Their eyes locked on me. I continued my suggestion. "I mean, it's not like it needs to be big. Missy's right, we really don't lives outside of work. And I'm not exactly hurting for money." Thirty mil in cash, and whatever a third of the stocks of an international corporation was worth, not that I ever planned to sell it. "A small house is easy enough, right?" I trailed off at the end, the two girls hadn't said anything.

Missy's smile was devilish. "Just how many bedrooms are in this 'small house' of yours?" She reached her hand around Clarice and traced her slender fingers along the curvier girl's hip and upper thigh. "What are you planning to do with us sweet, innocent girls after luring us away to your place?" Clarice giggled a little, putting her hand over Missy's. I could feel myself blushing. "Yeah, I thought as much."

"You win." More giggling. Well, if they're going to play like that. "Let's make it official. Will you marry me?" The laughter stopped, and it was my turn to watch them at a loss for words for once. Not that it lasted long before Missy was back on the attack side of our verbal sparring.

"Depends. Are you asking her, or me?"

Wrong question. "Yes."

"Smartass."

I stood up and moved toward the bed, then kneeled, placing a hand on each of their laps. "I'm being serious. I love you both so much. Missy, C-" I hesitated for a moment, then decided to use her real name. I wanted them to understand who I was really asking. "Riley. Will you, both of you, do me the honor of being my wives."

"Yes!" Riley's shout was more like a gasp, as if she was surprised despite me asking already just a moment before.

"As if you even needed to ask." Missy held my hand and pulled me up, then kissed me in her usual, insistent way. I was more than happy to go along with it, my tongue dancing with hers as I tried to see if I could identify Riley's lips on her tongue. Missy's chap stick had worn off some time ago. "Oh, that's a 'yes', in case you couldn't figure it out."

Riley's voice came from my side. "So, umm, Missy. Will you marry me, too? That's how this works, right?"

Missy waved her hand over her chest like she was fanning herself. "Oh goodness me! Two praposals on the same night? How's a girl evah s'ppose to decide?" I couldn't help but chuckle at her really bad imitation of a southern dИbutante. She broke out laughing a moment later. I wasn't entirely sure Riley got the joke, but she laughed as well.

"Don't worry, Mushroom, I'm not going to forget about you." Missy rolled over and pinned Riley on her back, straddling her. I was treated to another very enthusiastic makeout session, that ended with Riley moaning while Missy cupped both of her breasts through her shirt. I was shocked at how worked up Missy was tonight. I hesitated for a moment longer, then put my hand the small of on her back, then trailing my fingers upward. It was her turn to moan this time.

She looked toward me. "I think it's time."

"For?"

"It."

It? Oh. Oh! It! "Uh, umm, if you're sure."

Missy nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. I've been thinking about it for a while, and now's the right time."

Oh shit! What do I do now? Uh. "I don't have any condoms on me, so."

Missy hesitated for a moment. That was something we both very much didn't want happening. We loved each other, but Missy had a pretty deep seated fear of unplanned pregnancies, and if her family history meant anything there was a good chance of twins. "Uh, well, maybe we cou-" her words were cut off by a gasp, and her hips thrust forward. It took me a moment to realize that Riley had slipped her hand down into Missy's pants during the conversation. Missy moaned in appreciation of her efforts, grinding up against Riley's hand as her breathing got harder.

I took the opportunity to wrap my arms around her from behind and pull her into a kiss. I explored her very firm stomach and chest with my hands as she shuddered from our combined attentions. It occurred to me that this was the first time I'd ever felt them without the bra and shirt in the way. Missy may have hated how small her breasts were, but I found absolutely nothing to complain about. Except perhaps my lack of extra hands. I'd just have to trust Riley to take care of the rest. And if the noises coming from Missy were any indication, she was doing an excellent job of it.

After a couple minutes, Missy groaned loudly and buckled forward, breaking our kiss. Her head coming to rest on Riley's chest as she gasped for breath in a way normally reserved for our most intense sparing practices.

She quietly whimpered when Riley withdrew her hand and brought it up to her mouth, slowly licking her fingers clean. Missy shuddered again at the display. "Don't worry, you finished ovulating about four days ago. Even the most extreme outliers leave you safe for at least a couple more weeks."

"You can tell that." Missy paused a moment to catch her breath. "Just by tasting me down there?"

"Actually, I could tell that just by kissing you. Body temperature, the taste of your skin relative to your normal diet. Anyone could do it with practice. Plus our cycles have been synchronized for over a year, now."

"So why'd you taste me like that?"

"Because guys are supposed to think stuff like that's sexy." She hesitated, and a blush formed. "I... liked the taste."

Missy snuggled up against Riley. "Well, we have a guy here to ask his opinion on the subject." She looked back toward me and reached between my legs, rubbing her hand back and forth a bit, though the suit meant I couldn't actually feel it. "Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you, or what we're going to do tonight."

A smile crept on to her face, the one that always meant trouble. She slowly started peeling Riley's uniform off her shoulders with her other hand, exposing the slightly younger girl's much larger breasts. It was then that I learned that Riley didn't wear clothes under her suit. She was also very thorough when she changed her hair color, which added a nice contrast as Missy's pale fingers trailing through the fuzz over her pussy. "So, which one of us do you want first?"

I froze like a deer in the headlights. Fuck. There are exactly zero right answers to this question.

"That's mean," Riley gave a halfhearted swat at Missy's leg, failing to hide her smile. "Besides, we both know it has to be you."

"Are you sure? I was just teasing, I don't mind if you get to go first. I know you would have been doing it a while ago if it weren't for my hangups getting in the way. You were waiting for me, so it's only fair that I be the one to wait now."

Riley, meanwhile, had started undressing Missy. Beneath the suit, she was wearing a simple white tank top and panties. "You were here first, you get to go first. I'm just happy to be able to share. Besides." Her smile became mischievous. "He'll last longer after he's cum the first time. I want mine to last."

Missy laughed. "I think I just got ripped off." Her eyes met mine. "Now are you going to join in, or just watch us girls have all the fun?"

Two of Missy's fingers slipped into Riley's visibly wet hole. She gripped Missy's hand and started giving instructions. "Over, uh, here a little. Yeah! A little deeper. Feel that ridge? Mmm, that's it, stay right there. And don't be afraid to push harder. You're not going to, uh, hurt me!" I suspected she may have exaggerated a bit for effect, but I didn't really care. Watching Riley arch her back as Missy slowly fingered her was intense. Meanwhile, I stood and started slipping the armor off.

Riley gripped Missy's hair and pulled her face down her breast. Missy got the idea immediately, and started sucking on Riley's nipple while they both watched me peel myself out of my armor and allowing it to fall to the floor. If it was possible for me to get any harder, the look of lust and pleasure on her face would have been what made it happen. I slipped the boxers down, exposing myself to them for the first time. Judging by their eyes, they liked what they saw. Hopefully. I moved forward, kneeling in front of the bed and kissing my way along Missy's inner thighs.

"Oh, so you want a taste, too?" Her legs spread for me, and I was treated to my first up close look at her pussy. I had nothing in memory to compare the scent to, and moisture glistened on the light blonde hair that covered her lips. I tentatively ran my tongue along the slit, testing the waters. I couldn't say I enjoyed the taste, but it didn't bother me. And the soft gasp it elicited from Missy was thrilling. I pushed in more, pressing my mouth against her pussy and my tongue as deep as I could make it go. Her hips pushed forward, and the hand that wasn't fingering Riley gripped my hair.

I lapped at her juices for a while, enjoying her sounds of pleasure. Riley was right, I probably wouldn't last long once the main event started, and this was as good a way as any to make sure she wasn't disappointed by our first time together. I loved her too much to make her first time anything less than the best I could. I felt another hand grip my hair, at the back of my neck. The angle alone let me know it was Riley's, and she was guiding my head.

I followed the hint, and shifted up slightly, my mouth going from inside Missy's pussy to the top. I sucked softly on her nub, and she actually screamed her pleasure. If she said any words they were lost to me thanks to her pleasure and the legs clamped hard around my head.

"Oh god. Please stop, I can't take any more."

I followed Missy's instructions, looking at Riley for a second. Her glance said it all, she wanted Missy to enjoy this every bit as much as I did. She beckoned with a finger for me to come up. I crawled up between Missy's legs, adding my own interpretation by kissing my way up Missy's beautiful body. Her abs were well defined, but not grotesquely so, the body of someone who cares about themselves and works hard to stay in shape. She was still breathing hard when I got up to her breasts. Riley joined me there, sucking on one nipple while I took the other and rolled it between my tongue and teeth.

"You two just don't quit, do you?" Missy mumbled, gripping both our heads with her hands. "I love you and your enthusiasm, but I really need a breather. Just for a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay," Riley agreed. She then drew me into a soft kiss. It wasn't even really a kiss, so much as her using her mouth to massage mine. A welcome reprieve from the soreness spreading through my jaw.


* * *

Amelia bonus scene: Riley

Missy lay there panting, catching her breath from the most powerful climax she'd ever experienced. Between my stimulation of her breasts and Theo's tongue on her labia and clit, we hit enough erogenous zones to beat anything she could do on her own.

I slid down next to her, feeling slightly empty at the loss of her fingers inside my own sex. Her inexperience showed; I hadn't climaxed. Still, I loved her and was happy to see her happy.

Theo appreciatively kissed his way up Missy's sleek, muscular stomach. He stopped for a bit at her breasts, suckling her erect nipples.

I ran my hand between hers and Theo's stomachs as they pressed together. His musculature was heavier, less lean, than Missy's. A different sort of body built through a different set of exercises; both works of art. I slid my hand up to squeeze the breast Theo wasn't focused on. My powers, unfair as they were, gave me a map of her biology and every sensitive zone. If I wanted to, I could make her cum just with the breast play, and I already planned to do exactly that, some other night.

I touched Theo's ear, pushing him upwards; he was still a teenage boy, and a virgin at that. Without my guidance it would be awkward fumbling that lasted only minutes. This world would burn before I'd allow that.

Theo took the hint, moving the rest of the way up. He ran his lips against Missy's in the soft but passionate way that I loved so much about him. She kissed back, more insistently, another of those differences that made them both beautiful.

"Mmm..." Missy moaned, bringing her arms up around Theo's broad back. Then she started giggling.

"Are you okay?" Theo's face was a mix of confusion and fear of inadequacy.

"Yeah, but I can, umm, taste myself, on your mouth." Missy's blush went down as far as her nipples. It was adorable, but I knew better than tell her that. Her heart pumped with her conflicting emotions.

I snuggled up against her and ran my tongue along her ear before whispering. "See, I told you you're delicious."

Missy smiled and turned her head to look at me. "I guess it's okay." I smiled, waiting patiently as she wrestled with her own inner thoughts. Hesitantly, without taking her eyes off mine, she brought her hand up to her mouth and drew her middle finger into her mouth. Relaxing, she licked it along with her pointer and ring fingers, the ones she'd had inside me not long ago. "I... I think I like yours better."

My vaginal muscles clenched with arousal and desire. So hot. I ached to jump her, and part of me both loved and hated Theo for not putting it in her, already. "I wouldn't have it any other way." I kissed Missy and bit her bottom lip. I tugged it as I drew my mouth away from her; she liked that sort of treatment.

She looked at Theo. "So. I guess it's time."

"We don't have to, if you don't want," Theo offered.

"Riley, I think our boyfriend needs a doctor. It can't be biologically possible for anyone to be this nice." She wrapped her arms and legs around Theo. She wasn't even half his size, but it was clear from their language who was in charge. "Don't you dare back out now. I want this. I need you to f..." she hesitated, glancing in my direction. "Make love to me."

I reached down between them, finding Theo's shaft. Watching them watch each other, I lined it up and pressed his glans up against her labia. Nature handled the rest, but I kept my fingers on the man I loved while he sank into the woman I loved. She groaned softly, taking all eight inches in a single smooth motion. I bit my lip and blinked.

"Hey!" Missy's hand came up, cupping my face. "Why are you the one crying? Shouldn't that be me? Speaking of, that didn't hurt at all, what's with that?"

I wiped my eyes. "Most girls don't have hymens to lose by the time they have sex. As long as it's done gently and at an appropriate age, there shouldn't be much discomfort for most women. Yes, some do have an unusually thick hymen that doesn't simply disolve with age, but the idea that it always hurts the first time is just a myth." I had all kinds of theories on why that myth perpetuated itself, but it didn't seem like the time to bring them up.

Theo's hand went up to my face as well, cupping the other cheek. "But why are you crying?"

Missy looked upset now. "Is this because I went first? Jealousy? Because if it is, we can stop a-"

"No!" I surprised myself with the emotion. "It's not that at all." I searched for the words that could explain everything; I found my words of wisdom; something I heard said years ago, now. "We're partners, hat means we're automatically on the same team no matter what."

Missy smiled, pushing softly up against Theo. "Mmm, yeah. All three of us, forever."

The roadblocks gone, Theo started rocking slowly back and forth inside Missy. "I love you." He kissed me first, soft and gentle just like I liked it. Even when he was inside Missy, he made me feel loved and safe. Missy's hand slid down, finding and gripping my left breast. She squeezed, her pleasure overtaking her senses. It was wonderful, but it wouldn't last much longer; wouldn't last long enough without my help.

I moved away, then put my hands on Theo's shoulders. "I have a suggestion. Roll onto your back."

Missy's face lit up; she caught on first. "Oh, that sounds."

Theo didn't argue, laying down. I took another look at his gorgeous body while Missy climbed on top of him. This time, she was the one who grabbed his shaft. "God, I can't believe I got this inside me. That didn't stop her from straddling his legs and guiding it back inside her.

Theo groaned beneath her. "You have no idea how beautiful you are." His hands went to her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh. Missy set a much faster pace than Theo would have by nature, gasping as she bounced on top of him.

It still wasn't going to be enough. I pressed myself on her from behind, my breasts crushed up against and my hands went to both her breasts. They were smaller than mine, but so much firmer and perkier.

I pressed my hips against her, as if I was doing her from behind. My clit ground against her ass, a pleasure that might be enough to bring me to climax in a bit. I ran my tongue along her ear. "Do you like that? Do you like him f-fucking you with that big cock?"

She rocked back harder, pushing against me as she moaned. "Yes! I love him fucking me! I love both of you!"

Drat. I hadn't expected her to say that out loud. Theo thrust up harder inside her, he was mere moments from climax and Missy still hadn't reached her peak. I squeezed her breasts harder, adding a level of pain to the stimulation I was putting her through.

"Maybe later I'll fuck you, too." It wouldn't be hard at all to do, give me a few hours and we could all experience everything the other was feeling... maybe some day. "But for now." I moved away and started kissing down her spine.

She gasped, arching her back while Theo fucked her with the urgency of being right on the cusp of his own climax. I put my hand against her shoulder and pushed her down against Theo. Then I ran my tongue along the crack of her ass, tasting the mix of her sweat and our lubricants.

"Riley? What are you do-oooh god!" I taught one of my loves about an erogenous zone she didn't know she had, by sliding my tongue into it. Her anal muscles clenched down as I pushed past the ring and licked inside her. Surprisingly, the taste kind of turned me on.

"I'm almost there!" Theo shouted. Missy slammed hard against him as he made good on that promise. I could feel his cock pulse through Missy's inner wall, flooding her pussy with his cum. Well, in truth it was only a tablespoon or two, but it was fun to pretend.

"Me too!" Missy wrapped around Theo as she experienced a truly monumental climax. I withdrew my tongue from her and started kissing my way up her body. Not quite as simultaneous as I'd aimed for, but they'd never know the difference.

She lay there on Theo's chest, panting like she'd just set a record time on a marathon. She had that special smile of a woman who had everything she wanted in this world. I smiled down at them.

Theo met my eyes and mouthed 'thank you'. He reached around my back and pulled me up agains his side, while I rested my arm on Missy. He kissed me, soft, loving, and without a care about what I'd just done. He loved me as much as he loved her. They both loved me as much as I loved them.

This is where I belong.


* * *

A/N— Riley's Yandere mode: not-platonic edition. Analingus... planetary conflagration... as long as it makes those she loves are happy, she'll do anything.

And that's Part Two of Three for this particular threesome. Next, Riley's turn, from Missy's perspective. Unless I decide to do a visit to Taylor getting violated by tentacles vines thanks to Amy. Really depends on my mood.

Woulda gotten it to you sooner, but I was busy writing smut for Price (and getting paid for it, you deadbeats). Oh, right, and on that subject...


* * *

Amelia Bonus: The God-Empresses of Poon

Tags include Amy/Taylor, Taylor has issues, Amy has issues, lesbian, dom, dubious consent, terrible acting, tentacles (they call them "vines", but they're not fooling anyone), anal, oral, inflation, a bit of pregnancy fetish, romance, and a twist ending.

I tried to get a partridge in a pear tree, but its lawyer served me a restraining order.


* * *

I struggled against the mass holding me, but I might as well be trying to push a mountain. There was no way for me to know how long I'd been up here before I woke up, but I didn't feel the kind of soreness that would come from not moving for extended periods of time, so it couldn't have been too long.

My mouth and eyes were covered my something which felt like rubber, making it impossible to see, hear or speak. I reached out with my senses, seeking my insects, but I was blind to the outside world. As far as my power was concerned, only this room existed, and there wasn't a bug to be found here. Lacking other options, I sniffed the air; there was a vague hint of lilacs, but nothing of value. On the other hand, there were far worse smells I could have woken up to, such as that of burning.

"Oh, good, you're awake," a woman's voice came from behind me. She sounded far too pleased with herself.

The material covering my face slid back, letting me see the room, as well as speak. "Where am I? Who are you?" Unable to turn my head, I could only draw so many conclusions. The part I could see suggested the room was perhaps the size of a small living room, but it was also alive. The walls were made of bark, with bioluminescent fruit providing the only source of light.

I dangled from a particularly large bulb in the middle of the room, held aloft by dozens of vines. Without my bugs, I was unsure of the exact number. "How did you shut off my power?"

"You like my little garden? I made it just for you." Made? The woman walked into my peripheral vision. Her hair a medium brown that matched her eyes; a mousy face lined with freckles, shorter than me by quite a bit. If that wasn't enough, the white robe with a red cross symbol made it clear that I was dealing with Panacea. "Oh, and I won't tell you how I beat your power. Villains like you are the ones who gloat. I'm a hero."

Her eyes ran up and down my costume, making me painfully aware of how little a silk body stocking left to the imagination. I swallowed, the first thing I needed to do was get free, but first I needed to figure out how. I started with the most desperate weapon in my arsenal: diplomacy. "I guess this is about the bank. Listen, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I'm sorry."

"You're right, I have no reason at all to believe you." Panacea didn't bother looking me in the eyes when she spoke. "But let's pretend I did. Would it make a difference? You're still going to jail."

Fuck. "I... I could do something? Make it worth your while to let me go?"

Her laughter was cruel. "And what could you possibly offer me? I don't want your money, if that's what you think. All I have to do is ask and I can get pretty much anything my heart desires. What do you have that I desire?"

I swallowed, closing my eyes. If she wants to humiliate me, she's doing a fine job of it. "I... I can give you my body."

"No thanks, I work better with plants than meat."

I shivered, considering the magnitude of what she could do, the sheer power she had to make or unmake me however she pleased. Permission was the only thing I could give that she couldn't simply take. And even that was debatable. I shivered in what wasn't entirely fear. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what, exactly, do you mean?" She licked her lips, openly eying my legs. She knew my answer, she just wanted to force me to say it.

"Sex." I used what little freedom of movement I had to spread my legs as much as possible. It wasn't much, but it would get the message across. "I... I'll do whatever you want. Play with you... l-lick you? Just... just name it..."

A smile found its way onto her lips. "I want you to beg. Convince me you're so desperate for me to fuck you."

She wants me... what? How do I? I clenched my jaw, fighting to ignore the humiliation. "P-please. I need you. I... just let me down so I can show you how wet I am for you." I could almost hear Acting Itself facepalmed at my shoddy performance.

"Oh? I don't need to set you down for that." Before I could ask her what she meant, several of the vines holding me started squirming across my body. They explored until they found gaps in the fabric which allowed them to slide between my skin and my clothes. What shocked me was how warm and soft they were. They brushed across my breasts, down my legs, between my thighs and up my back. Others worked their way up from my ankles and wrists.

Then they pulled, stretching my costume in every direction. I heard the fabric give. One thread here and there at first, the zipper popped, then everything started to rip like flimsy tissue paper rather than silk that I had to use wire cutters to get through. She had at least three times as many vines holding me here as she just used to rend the costume.

The vines shifted around me, leaning me back and forcing my legs open. My arms remained spread out, away from my body. Panacea just smiled, her eyes locked on my now very exposed body. "Vicky's right, that is the hottest thing ever."

"It... it is something..." She can rip me in half with a casual thought, and for some sick, twisted reason that Freud would have a field day with, it turns me on. "Please, let me down. I won't f— Oh! Mmmm..."

Panacea interrupted me by slipping a finger along my clit and into the folds. "Remember, this was your idea. I'm just deciding if I like the deal." She slid back and forth, brushing the tip of her finger along my tunnel, but not entering me. I struggled where I could, trying to get that elusive finger inside me. "Oh, you are wet. I thought you were just saying that to get down."

For several mind numbing minutes, that was all she did, rubbing my labia in a steady rhythm, too much to ignore but never enough to scratch the itch she was building inside me. "Maybe you are serious about wanting me to fuck you?"Her smile was softer, now that she was secure in her victory over me.

The truth was that I was enjoying myself. I'd heard of the phrase 'magic fingers', but this was unlike anything I ever imagined. Her delicate touches combined with the power she could unleash with them had be on an edge I'd never imagined existed before. "You don't have to let me down. Just. Please fuck me. M— Mistress?"

"Good answer." A second finger joined in rubbing between my lips, still refusing to slide inside me and offer the release I was starting to crave. "I must say, Skitter, I'm surprised to learn you shave. Got someone special?"

"Mmm..." I moaned. She was far too good at what she was doing, perhaps using her power to cheat. That or being tied up and helpless presses my buttons harder than I realized. "N-no, I just... please go deeper."

Panacea withdrew her fingers from my sex. She sucked them into her mouth. "Not bad. So you were saying?"

"You're a horrible tease," I whined. "Fine. It's just, my costume's so tight that I have to shave or you can see it. Please put your fingers back."

She ran both her hands up my calves. "Well, I can see why you'd want to wear a tight costume." She batted a dangling bit of destroyed silk. "You have a fantastic body." Somehow, the compliment made me feel more vulnerable than being tied up naked by vines that could rip me into pieces with my pussy on display. One of her hands slid up to squeeze my ass. "You must work hard to keep a figure like this."

I pushed my hips toward her, trying to get her to give me attention where I needed it. I took a breath, if I begged for that, she'd just tease me more. "Can... can I look at you? Naked. Please, mistress?"

She stood there stunned for a moment, before that wry smile returned. "You don't want me to finish you off?"

Yes, but that's a trap. "I can wait. I want to look at you first. Maybe taste you?"

Panacea stepped back, her hands moving up to her shoulders. "I suppose, since you asked so nicely." She let her robe slip off her shoulders onto the roots which made up the floor of this crazy building. To my surprise, she was naked under the costume. Her breasts were easily C, perhaps D cups, and despite being so much larger than mine, they were almost as perky. The nipples were larger as well, and jutted out from dark areola on her otherwise pale skin. I couldn't help but feel jealous that I'd never have curves like those.

"You're beautiful," I said before I'd realized I even thought it. As pale as she was, her blush extended all the way down her neck and to the top of her breasts. I considered that one victory in this night of defeats. Not that I would mind if all my defeats turned out like this.

She was content to let me watch her, even sliding a hand up to play with one of her breasts and moving her legs apart to give me a peek of her own sex. Her lips were visibly swollen even from this distance. "Do you still want to taste me?"

I nodded. Finally I can get down from— Panacea slid her fingers down between her legs, slipping them inside her like I begged her to do to me. She slipped them out, then stepped back up to me. I could feel her hard nipples pressed against my legs, and her breath on my naval. I pushed my hips forward, hoping she'd show some mercy and perhaps use her tongue to give me some relief.

Instead, she held her hand up near my mouth. I could smell the musk which proved she was every bit as aroused as I was. Knowing what was expected of me, I turned my head to her fingers and stuck out my tongue, rubbing the tip across her wet fingers.

The taste was different than mine (yes, I got curious once or twice, who hasn't?), with less of a tang and more of a sweet, almost fruitt quality to it. It wasn't bad at all. I leaned in, to try and suck more of her in my mouth, but she withdrew her hand.

"Do you really like looking at me?"

"I... yes..." I'd like to do a lot more than look, but nothing short of Panacea's mercy would free me now.

The floor shifted beneath her, forming what could only be described as a botanical lounge chair. She relaxed back, her legs spread much as mine were. Her pussy, now that I could see it clearly, had thicker lips than mine, puffed out where mine remained closed despite my arousal. Another, more pressing difference were the delicate fingers taking a leisurely stroll over her clit while I went untouched.

"How bad do you want it?"

"Bad. Just tell me what you want me to say or do, I've never been this turned on in my life." All true, though my experience was admittedly limited.

She smirked at me. "I bet. You're dripping all over the floor, Skitter."

I bet I blushed all the way down to my knees. "Sorry. If you let me down, I can clean it up... with my tongue?" I can't believe I just offered to—

"No, that's okay," Panacea pulled her fingers away to taste herself. "It likes the taste. Maybe I'll give both of you a treat."

Some of the vines around me shifted, sliding over my breasts and between my legs. "You can't be serOHGODOHGOD!!!" One of the vines pushed its way inside my pussy, stretching me out in ways I'd never imagined. That wasn't hyperbole; I could literally feel it changing shape inside my pussy in ways no natural life form could. It rubbed, pulsed, vibrated and shifted inside, never finding a single pattern long enough for me to anticipate what would come next.

"Don't worry, I won't forget about your other erogenous zones."

Some of the other vines slid over my body, rubbing against my breasts with skin that was oddly both hard and soft at the same time. Firm, perhaps was the right word, but the ridges they had felt amazing as they grazed over my nipples. Vines already around my hips began to squeeze, pulling me down as the vine pushed up inside me, and two more brushed back and forth along my spine.

My first climax of the evening (if indeed it was still evening) caught me off guard. Every muscle in my body clenched as the thing inside me pulsed in a way that I swear was calculated to keep me cumming until I died of a heart attack. I fell limp, held only by the vines. Dimly, I was aware of Panacea playing with herself using only her fingers.

I forced myself to speak between gasping breaths. "Would you like me to help you with that?" The part of my brain responsible for good dialogue may have had a stroke and died during that orgasm.

Panacea's smuggly content smile only widened. "Such an inconsiderate lover."

"I... uh... what do you mean?"

"You got such a nice cum, and you want to stop before returning the favor? For shame. I suppose you'll just have to made it up double time."

The vines shifted again, and the steady thrum of the vine in my pussy caused my back to arch. If she wanted to give me another vine based climax, I wasn't going to fight her, I pushed my hips in rhythm with the plant. Then I felt another vine, slick with fluids, pressing into my ass. "Wait! I'm not! Aaaagh!"

Much like the first, this one shapeshifted to enter me, making itself smaller before expanding once inside. Unlike the first, or what the internet would have you believe, the violation of my posterior fucking hurt. I dug my fingers into the vines keeping me suspended Panacea's plant-creations pumped themselves in a steady, deliberate rhythm.

Panacea smiled at me. "A little pain only makes the pleasure that much more enjoyable, no?" To emphasize her point, she pinched and twisted one of her nipples.

"A little pain?!" I gasped as deeper thrust took my breath away. "When I... uh... get down... I'm going to show you what pain is!"

"Promises, promises." Panacea kept slowly playing with herself while using her vines to double team me by proxy. Much as I hated to admit it, I was getting into the pain, being stretched out from the inside was equal parts ecstasy and agony, but pleasure was mounting faster than pain. "Besides, if you think this is bad, I can't imagine how you'll react to the pregnancy."

What. "Pregnancy!?" I struggled, and would have said more but another pulse from the plants pushed me close to orgasm, only to stop before I went over the edge.

"Oh, absolutely, I made them perfectly able to knock you up," Panacea started fingering herself harder, "Right now, you can choose between something I put together myself, with no real father, or one of the tentacles is loaded with my DNA, so if you want I can get you pregnant with my baby. But only if you ask nicely. I bet you'll look cute with a new costume designed to show off your bump."

I felt the tendrils pulse and shift inside me; they'd slowed to a near stop, waiting for my decision. I hesitated, shifting my hips to try to get more pleasure. I hesitated too long for Panacea's liking, and she continued. "If you're not interested, I'll just take them out, and you're free to leave." The vines started to withdraw, and the ones holding me up began to slacken.

"No!" Wondering at how kinky I turned out to be, I made my decision. "Get me pregnant with your baby!" It was crazy and I knew it, but I said it nonetheless. The tendril in my pussy slipped out, leaving me stretched and gaping for Panacea to watch while the other started thrusting deeper into my ass. A different vine dropped down, then pushed its way inside me.

Panacea was fingering herself harder now, her tits jiggling while she worked herself toward her own orgasm. I beat her there, moaning as I clenched down on the intruders inside me. Instead of closing my eyes and giving myself to the bliss, I watched Panacea's face as her climax began. In the same moment, both vines started gushing fluids into me, far more than any human being could. In fact, I doubted humans had enough blood to account for the amount of goo flooding my womb and intestines.

"Just a small glimpse of how you'll look. I think it suits you."

I looked at my stomach, which stomach had swelled outward enough that I couldn't see my pussy anymore. I shifted my hips, grinding against the vines inside me. "It... it kinda does..."

Some undetected signal from Panacea had them slide out, and with my holes unplugged an impossible amount of white fluid spilled out onto the ground. I shuddered in pleasure, an aftershock of prior climaxes which led to its own mini orgasm. The vines lowered me down into the pool of fluids. I looked down, astonished by how much managed to fit inside. There were literal gallons of the stuff.

"Now you can taste me," Panacea said. "Crawl."

I couldn't have walked if I tried. It was struggle enough to pull myself out of the sticky pool, and with each movement of my legs my pussy and ass throbbed from the ordeal they just went through. The look in Panacea's eyes suggested she thought my slinking movement was out of an attempt to look sexy, rather than soreness.

I did make it to the edge of her seat, where I started by kissing her legs. They were smoother than even a fresh shave allowed for. Panacea waxes? On second thought, I decided she probably had some kind of weird plant juice that ate body hair. Lucky bitch.

Her legs spread open for me. "Mmm, that's a good girl."

Despite the soreness, I tingled at the compliment. Taking more initiative, I bit her legs on my way up. Beneath her soft looking curves, she had the firm muscles of someone who kept in shape. She also used a skin lotion that tasted like raspberries. I got midway up her thigh before moving to the other leg and starting to bite my way back down.

Fingers dug into my hair. "Don't you fucking dare." With a firm grip, she pulled me back up.

Oh, so it's okay for you to tease, but when I do it, then it's wrong. I smiled up at her before moving forward forward. Her look radiated lust and anticipation. I suppose I got a couple insane orgasms so far, and a few small ones, but she only had one relatively small one. She has a right to be impatient.

I had heard of pussies being described as 'juicy' before, but never gave it much thought before; mine wasn't, and I wasn't interested in the female set of sex organs to begin with. Panacea, however, could only be described as such. The lips were swollen, and partially opened so that if I wanted, I could have looked inside her. She was so wet with arousal that it looked like she just got out of the bath.

I took a breath, inhaling her scent which was milder and sweeter than my own, then I moved forward to allow my mouth to meet her lips. Hesitant, I slid my tongue out, just to test the proverbial waters. Panacea gasped, then pushed her hips forward, pushing herself against me and causing my tongue to slip inside her.

I lapped at her, slipping my tongue as deep inside as I could. She mewled for me. The taste was, well, it wasn't bad, but I wasn't about to start singing the praises of vagina any time soon. The idea that I was bringing her such pleasure, on the other hand, was a thrill that shook me to the core. As powerful as she is, I can still make her moan for me. It made me feel strong.

With newfound confidence, I went from hesitant exploration to a plan. My hands slid up her sides, then over her stomach and finally to her breasts. Larger and softer than mine by a wide margin, they filled my hands with room to spare. I brushed fingers over her rock hard nipples, before pinching them. She enjoyed pain, so I kept squeezing, waiting for the moment when the pain was too much for her.

I moved my mouth up to work on her clit; I wasn't an expert, but I knew how the equipment worked. I sucked her nub between my lips, then used my tongue to rub it in a slow, circular motion while I kept testing the limits of what her nipples could tolerate. Panacea had a masochistic streak in her. I tugged and twisted, and every motion drew another beautiful, inarticulate gasp from her throat.

"Oh god, Taylor! I'm cumming!" Her legs wrapped around my head, leverage she used to thrust her hips into my face. Both hands gripping my hair, she fucked my mouth as she came. So much juice flooded from her that I had to swallow or risk choking. Eventually her muscles relaxed, her having spent herself in my mouth, and she lost her grip on me.

"Tha... wow... I need to..." she gasped. "You're amazing. Kiss me." Her hand caressed my now wet cheek.

I crawled up her body, dragging my nipples across my skin. Her brown eyes met mine, and then our lips met. Unlike the sex before, the kiss was soft and gentle. As appreciative, and sore, as I was from earlier, I knew this moment was the one I'd remember as my favorite.

Panacea smiled up at me. "That was really nice."

I smiled back. "Yeah." Mistress of eloquence, I was not.

"But there's one more thing you have to do before I let you go." I was going to point out that she had already let me go, but she interrupted me with another kiss. Her hands traced their way down my back as she brought her legs up to wrap around my hips. A tingle started in my clit, then it started to expand until the tip slid into Panacea's pussy. "I need you to fuck me."

I moved up so that I could look at the newly crafted penis she just gave me, and in the process sank half of its eight inches into her tight pussy. We moaned in unison. Panacea pulled me into her with her legs, and I found myself buried completely. God, if this is what it feels like for guys, no wonder they can't keep it in their pants.

Feeling a little silly, I withdrew and thrust back up inside her. Shivers ran from my new cock through my pussy and then all the way up to the base of my neck. It wasn't quite as intense as my double-fuck from before, but it was still amazing. Panacea looked up at me with her big brown eyes while we worked out a slow, steady rhythm with each other.

Then I got an idea.

I slid back, withdrawing from her tight pussy, and then pushing her legs up against her chest. I reached down to grab my impressive looking tool, while Panacea just watched in confusion. "Skitter? What are you-?"

I answered her question pushing the shaft down until the head pressed against her ass.

Her eyes widened. "Don't you fucking dare!"

I smirked. "Make me stop." She could, with nothing more than a thought, but her only struggle was to push against my shoulders with her hands. Eventually, the muscles gave way to the slowly increasing pressure I was putting against her ass, and I sank in half way.

"Ohgod!" Her fingernails dug into my shoulders hard enough that I was certain she drew blood, but she still didn't make me stop. I thrust harder, burying the rest of my shaft inside her tight ass. I withdrew, watching the blend of lust, pleasure and pain on her beautiful face. I waited until only the tip remained inside, then slammed hard up into her. She screamed something inarticulate, then grabbed my hair and pulled me into another kiss.

Her mouth was as forceful as I had been with my cock, sucking on my tongue, then biting my bottom lip, then trying to stick her tongue down my throat. She moaned and screamed into my mouth as I pounded her as hard as I could without breaking the kiss. My own sore behind reminded me that this was no less than what she did to me only a little while ago. Hell, some fluid from that was still leaking out of both my holes thanks to the work my legs were doing.

I felt her clench down on my cock, biting my lip hard as another climax overtook her body. The sensation of her already tight body getting even tighter set me off, and I came while buried inside her. Exhasted, I withdrew from inside her, and collapsed beside her on the botanical lounge chair which was rapidly reshaping itself into a bed.

She looked over at me and smiled. "I love you so much, Taylor."

"I love you too, Amelia." I kissed the freckles on her shoulder, just because it felt like something to do in the afterglow. "That was wild. But we went a little off script there, didn't we?"

"Mmm, yeah," she sighed. Sensations ran through my body as the pain and minor injuries she's inflicted were returned to perfect condition. I considered asking her to repair my virginity, so she could take it again. That was always one of her favorites. "The Skitter costume surprised me. When'd you make that?"

"Oh, I just had a bout of nostalgia for the bad ol' days. Then I decided to throw it away. Then I thought it could be used for some fun, first."

She laughed, then gave me a peck on the nose. "Well, you have to throw it away now. And if you keep making them, I'll keep ripping them off." She slapped my ass, then squeezed. "This belongs to me. Now and forever."

I nuzzled into her hair. "Yeah. I, uh, didn't hurt you, did I?" We liked it rough, but where I could trust her to fix any damage that happened to me, she had to deal with any pain the normal way.

One of her fingers slid between butt cheeks, then penetrated my well lubricated ass. "Well, I'm a little sore. You'll just have to kiss it and make it better."

I slapped her stomach, not bothering to remove my face from her hair. "You are such a pervert."

"Pots, kettles, and arguments over colors," Amelia said even as she worked another finger inside. I was starting to get a little worked up by her attentions. "Like the way you go off when I so much as hint at getting you pregnant." I tensed in pleasure, and in the process squeezed her fingers. "Damn, Taylor. But thank you for proving my point."

I lifted myself up to look at her. "Do you think, some day, we'll get a chance to have a child of our own?"

The hand not currently fingering me moved up to cup my face. "Of course we will, some day."

"Good." I leaned in, giving her a soft kiss before breaking off. "Now roll over. I believe I owe you some kisses."

— —

A/N— Repression is a helluva drug.

Tattletale-oneesan

(Автор: Sol Mark-1)

Lisa: Taylor have you finished putting the dress I gave to you.

Taylor: Yes Lisa I really love it, thank you for giving me this dress.

L: It was nothing, I saw you how you admired the dress.

T: You always know what people like, mmm.. is the offer of hanging out still avaliable even if..

L: Of course Taylor, I don't find your hobby disgusting, I find it cute, any place in particular.

Taylor began to blush.

T: Any place you like is fine Lisa.

Before they went outside Taylor kissed Lisa.


* * *

They began to visit several shops, then they decided to eat in a cafe.

T: How did you know this place existed Lisa.

L: An aquantiance, told me of this place, she is a friendly person, you would became her friend easily, she would find you cute.

Meanwhile somewhere else Sabah sneezes.

T: Really Lisa, I would like to meet her.

L: Maybe after we finish eating we may visit her.

Sadly when Lisa finished talking a young man began to walk to their table, Taylor and Lisa easily recognised him as the same man that has asked both of them for a date several times all those times both of them gently rejected him, but he got more pushy,

Man: Hello, what a surprise, it is good to see both of you, I did not knew both of you know each other.

L: Hello, we also didn't expected to find you here.

T: Hi.

M: You shouldn't be so cold with people that are nice to you.

T: And you shouldn't be so pushy when you try to get a date.

The man reacted with a bit of anger showing on his face.

L: Sorry we are not interested, also you should leave before you make an idiot.

The man just shrugred, and left, but not before saying "fucking dykes"

Lisa, and Taylor both answered "asshole", and when the man left the cafe both of them began to laugh.


* * *

After they finished eating, they decided to see more shops from the Boardwalk, though some of the enforcers were eyeing Taylor, both of them began to feel uncomfortable when they meet a blonde that had the look of having conection with E88

L: Hey Taylor.

T: What, sorry I was distracted.

L: Do you still want to visit the stores here, or do you want to go to the shop of the aquantiance.

T: I think leaving the Boardwalk is a good idea Lisa.

L: OK Taylor, you are going to love that shop.

After they left the Boardwalk Taylor began to make guesses what shop Lisa was talking, but all the tries ended in misses, finally they where inside of the shop, but Taylor had to enter with the eyes closed.

L: Taylor you can open your eyes.

Taylor obeyed, and saw all the dresses that were in the shop, a smile appeared on Taylor face; Lisa heard some footsteps, and recognised the person.

L: Hi Sabah, how are you?

S: I'm fine Lisa, did you come alone?, I tought the alarm told me two people entered the store?

L: I entered with my friend Taylor.

Lisa noticed that Taylor was not there, she began to look for Taylor, and found "her" geeking with the dresses, and in her hands was a black rabbit doll.

L: There... she is, Taylor come here.

T: Ok.

She began to walk to them, sometimes giving some skips, Lisa noticed that Sabah was tilting her head, Lisa began to feel a mixture of feelings

L: Sabah, this is Taylor, a great fan of Parian work; Taylor this is Sabah she works for Parian.

S: Oh, hi Taylor nice to meet you.

T: Hi Sabah nice to meet you too.

S: So you are a fan of Parian, I saw you how you were admiring the dresses, do you want to buy one.

Taylor smile almost disappeared

T: I am sorry mm.. the money I have is not enough to buy a dress, the only thing I could buy is maybe this doll.

S: Do you want try a dress at least?, Parian may not mind

The smile returned to Taylor face and acepted the offer, Taylor ended trying several dresses, also Sabah was unconsciously flirting with Taylor, Taylor was unconsciously flirting back, and Lisa meanwhile was grinding her teeth, and had a very hidden expresion of anger.

After Taylor ended trying the dresses, Lisa ended buying Taylor the black rabitt doll, Lisa and Taylor exited the store, Taylor said good bye to Sabah in a playful tone.

L: Taylor I think I forgot to something to Sabah, wait here.

T: Ok.

Lisa entered the store, Taylor waited like five minutes for Lisa, she heard something that something inside the store, and moments later Lisa exited the store with her fox like smile.

T: Lisa what was the thing you said to Sabah?

L: That is a secret, Taylor.

And both of them went back to the Undersiders base, when they entered the base Lisa began to talk

L: Taylor I need to speak with you, about somethings in private.

Alec: Taylor you ended making Lisa angry, good luck with the hate sex.

L: Shut up Alec!, leave the room, and stay away from Taylor.

A: Anyway I have a new video game to play, bye.

When Alec left the room he locked the door to the room

L: Taylor I have to to ask you something, where you conscious that you flirted back with Sabah, in front of me.

T: No, please don't be angry Lisa, I really enjoyed the date with you.

L: Ok Taylor I forgive you, also another thing I have to tell you, is that Sabah is a lesbian.

T: What!?

Lisa decided in that moment to give Taylor a kiss.

Meanwhile in the Undersiders Living room Alec who was secretelly the conservation laughing really hard, Brain was laughing very quietly, Bitch was facepalming.

Also back in Parian shop, Sabah was closing the shop, and was still impresed with what happened today, she never tought that something like that was going to happen to her, but she really enjoyed Taylor company.

S'fya (Alien)

(Автор: mantis)

Okay, here it is. Alien!Sophia/Taylor. Feel free to give me any feedback you have. No matter how harsh. Just fuckin piss on me


* * *

Having S'fya in the house was an experience I couldn't find many words to describe. "Bizarre" would definitely be one of them, as would "surreal" and perhaps "exciting." Ever since I'd found her sprawled out by a small, damaged ship, bleeding from a deep cut in her forehead, and smuggled her home, the alien girl had made her presence known in the house.

Now, two months on, I'd near reached my wits' end with her. She wasn't precisely a bad guest— she'd acclimated rather well, keeping away from windows, making herself comfortable in the basement guest room we'd set up. She was mostly polite, outwardly well mannered, as though she'd been schooled in this sort of thing. But there was something about her— a few superior glances, the way she turned her nose up at me, the way she sneered "weakling prey" under her breath when I lay in bed with the flu. She saw herself as a person among insects, and it showed.

I tried to ignore it— obviously wherever she came from, things were different. Maybe this sort of thing was acceptable. Maybe she was some sort of royalty, and she'd been raised to think this way. The thought of an (admittedly quite attractive) alien princess living in my basement filled me with enough wonderment to ignore her attitude for the first month or so.

Last week though, she'd crossed a line. Dad had gotten injured— his arm was broken in an accident down at the docks. When S'fya had heard, her response had made my blood boil.

"Couldn't even keep his wits about him? Pathetic. If things were as they should be, he'd be dead."

At her words, anger flared in me. I wanted to grab a steak knife and shove it through her back. I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and squeeze the life out of her. I fantasized about it lying in bed. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to show her who the weakling really was. The morning afterwards, I started to plan.

I'd watched her, observing how she moved, what she did, what she didn't do. I made a list of weaknesses, saved it to a locked folder on my computer. I written up a list of items I'd need. Buying them was by far the simplest part of the plan. Finally, a week after what she'd said about dad, I was ready to confront her.

"S'fya. We need to talk." I stood straight, posture tight, wearing my determination on my face. Projecting strength as best I could, crossing my arms as I stared her down. S'fya was at one of her usual places— a chin-up bar she'd put in on her own. Dropping to the floor, she looked me over, then started to cross the basement towards me. At points like this, I was surprised by how human she looked— were it not for her eyes, with their acid-green irises, inky black whites, and slitted, reptilian pupils, she'd just be another tall, pretty, dark-skinned girl. Her long, straight black hair hung down by her lower back— flowing, thick hair any girl would be jealous of. She always wore what we'd recovered from the pod— a set of skintight, black-and-indigo bodysuits that fit her muscular, athletic form quite snugly. Stopping barely two steps before me, we stand face to face, my height possibly the only attribute I equal her in. Her nose wrinkles slightly, disdain practically rolling off of her. Looking me up and down, she finally opens her mouth.

"What is it you want from me this time?"

Going over the script I'd prepared as I gathered my tools, I take a deep breath. "Look. S'fya. I know you've had a hard time. You're far from home, you're stranded here, with a bunch of aliens, you haven't been outside in weeks. I understand that. I'd be feeling the same way. But that doesn't give you justification for how you've been treating us." One of her eyebrows arched, and I continued.

"You're our guest, and we try our best to accommodate you. And you've done nothing but make it clear how low your opinion is of us. Don't even deny it-" I cut her off. "I have ears too, S'fya— I can hear what you say about me and dad."

Her lips curled into a smirk. "And you don't think it's true?" She took a step forward, so that our chests were almost pressing together. "You think I couldn't kill both of you in the blink of an eye if I chose? Foolish little prey. I am a Huntress— the fact that you're still alive is a testament to my hospitality."

Here it was: the moment of truth. I spread my arms. "If you're so superior, so strong and fast, why don't you kill me then? After all, I'm nothing but prey to you." Her muscles tightened, and my hand slipped towards my pocket, ready for what came next.

Her hand shot out like a rocket, gloved fingers wrapping around my neck. Instantly, the stun gun I'd bought was out, and I pressed the button as I jammed the prongs into her armpit. She let out a yelp of pain, her arm jerking back, before I was on her, taking advantage of her weakened state to throw her to the floor, landing on her a second later. Moving to the next step of my plan, I pulled out a pair of handcuffs, holding the stun gun to her neck for a second or two before pulling her hands behind her back and cuffing them. Her ankles were next, tied together with a few rolls of duct tape. Before she could collect herself and react, S'fya was bound, helpless beneath me.

It took her around half a second for her to realize what had happened, and then the struggles began. She started thrashing, pulling at her bonds, kicking and bucking in an attempt to dislodge me. After a few seconds, the profanity started.

"You little bitch! You paper-skinned, glass-boned little bitch!" She hissed, wriggling about beneath me as I pulled out one of the last items, a dollar store pocket knife, and set it down on the floor. Looking at the small blade, she let out an enraged hiss. "So this is your plan? Tie me up, humiliate me a bit, then try and kill me with a fruit peeler?" She let out a derisive cackle. "Please. I'll shove that down your throat and watch you choke."

"I'm not going to kill you, S'fya," I responded, trying to keep my voice steady for all the adrenaline. "But there's going to be an understanding between us." Grabbing her by the back of the head, I pushed her face into the concrete floor. "From now on, you will treat my father and I with the utmost respect. No more `prey' or `weakling,' you understand?" I heard her growl, and knew I'd have to be more persuasive. "And what could you do to make me obey you, prey?" She sneered.

I sighed. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the last object. S'fya's confusion at the dry crinkling was obvious, and I saw her trying to turn around before I pushed her head back to the floor. "You might be right— we're not the strongest species on this planet. Or the toughest, or the one with the sharpest senses. But that didn't stop us from bringing the rest of the world to heel. You know how we did that?" I leaned in closer. "We watched. We listened. We learned our enemies' weaknesses, and we made tools to exploit them. And I've been doing the same with you."

"Oh? What's my weakness, then?" And there it was. She'd walked right into it.

"You're more like us humans than you'd think, S'fya. One way in particular." Taking the last tool in both hands, I opened the neck widely. "We both need to breathe."

Before she could respond, I forced the plastic bag over her head, pulling it down until the opening was down by her neck. Peeling off a bit of tape, I stuck it to the plastic, winding the roll around her neck. After two or three times around, I'd formed a tight seal, cutting off any outside air, and completing my trap for the huntress. Her struggles started before I even leaned back. "Hey! Hebert! What is this?! What're you doing?!"

"I'm giving you a choice, S'fya." I climbed off of her, before grabbing her and pulling her into my lap, so that her back was pressing against my chest. "You can either acknowledge that you're not the top of the food chain anymore, and be a good guest," I thread one arm through hers, holding her in place, "or you can die at the hands of prey. Don't worry— you've got at least a minute or two to choose before you lose consciousness."

For about twenty seconds, there was silence, the only noise the crinkling of the bag inflating and deflating as S'fya breathes in the same air over and over again. Before long, I started to notice her legs starting to twitch, as though she was suppressing the urge to kick and thrash. "Oh, take your time, I've got all day. Do you?"

She didn't respond, but her body did for her. Soon, the bag started to inflate and deflate faster, as the alien girl pressed against me started to lose her breath. I placed a hand on her chest to hold her in place while the reality of the situation settled in for her. "You see now, S'fya? You only ever thought yourself the predator. Here? In my home? You're nothing but my prey."

Her breaths grew shorter and shorter, and I felt her heart pounding through the material of the suit. Her legs started kicking, and I could swear I could see them rubbing together. Before I could stop myself, my arm had untangled from hers and slipped between her legs, rubbing at the supple flesh. Her breathing grew more ragged, the plastic sucked deep into her mouth, outlining her face as I felt a smile curl my lips. I had her. This beautiful, domineering warrior girl was like putty beneath my hands. "Feeling a bit short of breath, prey? All you have to do is say `I submit,' and I'll take the bag off." I dug my middle finger into her crotch, feeling a spike of lust as her back arched, and she moaned.

Her muscles taut, her breath sucking in as much as she could, S'fya was obviously fighting a losing battle, the clear plastic shining with saliva as she struggled to breathe. A bit of worry started to settle in my mind. If or when she did lose consciousness, what would I do? Should I leave the bag on and let her smother to death, as she'd obviously expect me to? Or would I do as dad had taught me, and let her live? This quandary didn't have the chance to get much further, because as that thought crossed my mind, S'fya let out a harsh gasp.

"E-enough!" She rasped. "I-I submit! I submit! Please!" Jolting out of my reverie, I reached over, grabbing the pocket knife. Laying her on the ground, I pulled the bag away from her face and cut a long slit in it. S'fya greedily sucked down air as I pulled the opened bag away from her face, leaving her with a collar of duct tape and plastic around her neck as she caught her breath beneath me. Quickly collecting myself, I resumed the role of the dominant predator, wiping a lock of hair from her sweaty, flushed skin. "So, I assume we have an understanding? We will allow you to live in our house, and in exchange, you won't find yourself being hunted."

She gave a shaky nod. "Yes, yes. I understand." She tugged at her handcuffs a few times, and I rolled her onto her stomach, pulling the key from my pocket. As the cuffs came off, she pulled her wrists back in front of her, relief obvious as I cut the duct tape with the pocketknife. Tearing the rest of the tape and plastic away from her neck, S'fya pulled herself up into a sitting position, with her back to me. Now, out of her sight, I let fear creep into my bones. She may have submitted with the bag over her head, but now, what was stopping her from killing me now? I'd lost the element of surprise. Cursing myself mentally, I let my hand wrap around the handle of the stun gun again as S'fya turned to me. Our eyes locked for a moment, and her lips split into a grin. "Well. Looks like I underestimated you, Hebert." I nearly raised the stun gun as she pulled herself towards me, only to drop it out of shock when she pressed her lips into mine. Freezing for a moment, my wits returned to me just in time for me to wrap my arms around her back and return the kiss just as forcefully. Resting my hands on her shoulder blades, I let them wander down, following the curve of her spine until I felt the pleasantly toned flesh of her ass. A few moments longer, and she pulled away to breathe.

"What you lack in strength, you make up for in surprise. Where fragility impedes you, you employ cunning. You're no prey. You're just as much a hunter as I am." She pressed her body against mine, and my face flushed slightly. Her hands slipped beneath the hem of my shirt, and I raised my arms up as she lifted it over my head. My pants were next to go, unzipped and pulled off my legs while I shifted my weight from my butt to my feet. Sitting there in my underwear, I felt no need to cover myself, eyes locked with S'fya's as she started to undo the seam of her suit. As she started to peel it off, I brushed her hands away, grasping the rubbery fabric and tugging it down, watching as more and more of that rich, dark skin became exposed. Soon, she'd pulled her arms out of the sleeves, and she was naked from the waist up. Suit hanging around her middle, I let my thumb run down her stomach, feeling her abs as I leaned in for another kiss. This one lasted longer, a thin rope of saliva connecting our mouths when we pulled away. Grinning, Sophia hooked her thumbs under her suit, starting to work it down her legs. Reluctantly, I stopped her, pointing towards her bed. "We're not gonna do this on a concrete floor," I stated as matter-of-factly as I could. Looking towards the bed, she nodded, standing up to walk over. She sat herself on the bed, and I moved to join her, slipping my own panties off as I did.

Once we were situated, she picked up where she left off, sliding the suit down her legs. As her slit was exposed, two things stood out to me: how similar it was to a human's, and the total lack of hair. It wasn't that she was shaved— it was that nothing had grown there to begin with. Same with the rest of her body. As the suit came off, soon to be forgotten on the floor, I saw she was already wet; well, that explained her rubbing her legs together earlier. I can't help but giggle. Moving in, I trace her labia with a knuckle, before slipping my finger inside. She shuddered, before throwing herself against me, teeth working at my lip, tongue prodding, begging for entrance. Opening my mouth, I took control, my tongue pushing past her teeth and inside.

It didn't take long for S'fya to be reduced to a quivering, moaning mess. Apparently her time under the bag had already left her stimulated, leaving her aroused and eager for pleasure. Working a second finger inside her, I plunged deeper, wondering if whatever species she was even reproduced like humans. At least I seemed to be doing something right, judging by the way she moaned and writhed beneath me. Keeping up the pattern, my fingers came away slick with clear juices, lubricating them as I worked the alien girl over. My own arousal made itself known as S'fya broke our kiss to let out a breathy moan. Sweat shone on her skin, hair sticking to her forehead as I brought her closer and closer to climax.

As I toyed with her, my own needs ached to be attended to, my pussy practically dripping from the show S'fya was putting on. Once or twice my hand slipped between my legs, but nothing I could do could satisfy the fire raging in me. Finally, I gave in.

When my fingers slipped out of her, S'fya didn't even have time to complain before I straddled her head, my pussy pressing against her face. Pressing against her lips, I looked down at her, and gave a single, terse command.

"Lick."

She took to the task with gusto, her tongue sliding over me, before working its way inside. The feeling of S'fya's long, dexterous tongue was wonderful, and I craved it more the longer it was in me. Grinding against her face, I let my head loll back, back arched as waves of pleasure pulsed outward from my nethers. Soon, her tongue grazed against a particularly sensitive spot, and I saw stars. Reaching down to grab her by the hair, I forced her deeper into me. "Oh, yes! Do that again! Keep doing that!" Mumbling some muffled affirmation, she did as I said, flicking the tip of her tongue over that spot again and again, bringing me closer and closer with each lick. With that tongue deep inside me, there was no way for me to last longer than a minute.

Finally, her tongue dug right into the spot, and I clenched, moaning in ecstasy as I felt myself gush onto S'fya's face. Barely a few moments passed before she reached her own climax, having taken the opportunity to start fingering herself earlier. Riding her face until the peak of pleasure faded, I climbed off of S'fya, who gasped as she could finally breathe again, slumping down onto the mattress. Lying beside her, I looked up at the ceiling, as the events of that afternoon finally processed. I'd confronted S'fya over her arrogance and domineering attitude. I'd tied her up and smothered her with a plastic bag when she tried to intimidate me. We'd kissed, and fucked, and now were basking in the afterglow, our sweaty bodies side by side as we caught our breath. Looking over to her, I took in the sight of her gorgeous, athletic body, skin glistening with sweat, outlining every curve of muscle against the light. She was every inch the huntress, the warrior; her strength apparent just from looking at her.

I wondered how I'd look if I were an alien like her.

After a few more minutes of rest, I sat up, looking over to the gorgeous girl lying beside me. "So...I think you understand?" S'fya, still looking completely blissed out, gave me a lazy nod. "Mm-hmm. Clear as crystal. You've got a hunter's heart, Hebert." Satisfied that she now considered me at least an equal, I stood, moving to gather up my clothes. As I tugged my jeans back on, S'fya called over to me from the bed. "So...If you're ever bored, what do you say we come down here and do a bit of `sparring,' hm?" I caught the implication easily, giving her a nod before bending over to pick up my discarded shirt. Slipping it over my head, I gave S'fya one last lingering gaze before I started back up the stairs, a spring in my step, and my mind racing of all the fun ways I'd be `sparring' with our extraterrestrial guest.

Drunken Glory

(Автор: GladiusLucix)

Disclaimer: I have been neither drunk nor a teenage girl before, so I make no claims to the accuracy of characters depicted in either or both states.


* * *

"I'll be fine," Amy assured me, but I wasn't convinced. She had spent most of the past week healing people after Behemoth attacked, and only got back yesterday.

And now she was going right back to volunteering at the hospital. There were still a few days until school started — our Senior year — but Amy hadn't really had a vacation. Every day, she'd spend a few hours at one hospital or another. Sure, it didn't even really add up to a part time job, but she didn't even miss the weekends. Even the doctors and nurses have some days they don't work, right?

I mean, I get why she does it; power and responsibility and all that. And even with how flashy the rest of our family's powers are, if you give it any thought, Amy's got the most amazing power out of all of us. Even considering how she limits herself. Anyone can take people apart, but it takes someone special to be able to put them back together again.

I sighed as she walked into the hospital. A few hours to kill before she was done. I wonder what Dean's doing...


* * *

A call to the PRT front desk lets them know I was coming, and I stopped to grab a visitor's pass as I entered. Gallant (since he's in costume) was at the command center, keeping in contact with Vista and Aegis on patrol. I dragged a chair over and flopped down next to him. "Hey, Gallant."

"Hello, Vicky," he answered. "Waiting for Amy to be done at the hospital?"

"Yeah. I'm worried about her, though. Even if she only works two or three hours a day, it's every day, without fail. She didn't even take a rest when she got back from the Endbringer fight." I sighed. "Plus, I think something has been bothering her lately, and she won't tell me."

Gallant leaned back from the console. "You've tried just asking her, of course."

"Yup," I said. "She just says everything's fine and closes off, or tries to change the subject."

A certain annoying redhead stuck his head into the room. "You could get her drunk," Dennis said.

I turned and glared at him. "How is that even remotely close to a good idea?"

"Well," Dean piped up. "There is a saying: 'In vino veritas.' In wine, there is truth." I turned to stare at my boyfriend incredulously, and Dennis rallied.

"Yeah," Dennis said. "Once Amy's drunk, she'll be more relaxed, and probably ready to tell you about what's bugging her."

I looked back and forth between the two of them. Then I realized my mouth was hanging open. I shook my head and focused on Dean. "You think this is a good idea."

He shrugged, obviously not wanting to say yes or no. "I think it's an idea," he hedged. "If we can't think of anything else, it might be worth a try."

We sat there silently for a few minutes, trying to think of some other plan. Well, I was trying, and Dean probably was. Dennis was probably just laughing about the idea of Amy drunk. Finally, I just threw up my hands.

"Fine," I said. "But we're doing this at your house. Mom would kill us if she found out."

Dean nodded. "That's fine." I nodded back and pulled out my phone to give Mom a call.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hello, Victoria. I was just about to call you. Your father has been having a good day today, so we'll be going out tonight."

I grinned at the news, both because Dad had too few good days lately, and because this would make it easier to convince her to let me and Amy stay out. "That's great, Mom. Dinner or heroing?"

"Probably both." I could hear the smile in Mom's voice as she answered. "So, what did you call about?"

"Well, Dean's having an end of summer party for the other Wards and he wanted me and Amy to come, too."

"When will the party be over?"

"He said there would be guest rooms for everyone, so people can just go to bed when they're tired, instead of having their parents come get them. Like a slumber party, but more spread out."

"Alright, dear. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Bye, Mom! Kick some Nazi butt for me!"

Well, that was convenient. "So is this party a thing that's actually happening, or just a cover story?" Dennis asked.

I glanced at Dean. He shrugged. "Seems like an actual good idea," he said.

"Cool," Dennis said with a grin. "I'll go tell Chris."

"Triumph is probably busy," Dean added, "but Aegis and Vista should be free, if their parents okay it."


* * *

Plans were made, people were invited, but who would or wouldnt be there wasn't my concern at the moment. After giving Dean a kiss goodbye, I took off for home. I needed to pick up sleepwear and clean clothes for me and Amy. And something for me to change into once I got out of my costume. Amy had it easy on that front; her robes were loose and long enough to just throw over whatever she was wearing. For one really late emergency call, she went to the hospital wearing pajamas and bunny slippers underneath her costume. Anyway, a quick rummage through drawers and closet sufficiently stocked an overnight bag, and I was off to pick up Amy.

Once I got to the hospital, I let one of the front desk nurses know I what I was doing, I headed over to the pediatrics waiting room. Fifteen minutes of shaking hands and signing autographs later, Amy finished her shift. I was in the middle of explaining to a kid, maybe eight years old, that even though I had signed his cast, he probably wouldnt be allowed to keep it, Amy walked up and put her hand on his shoulder. "Would you like me to make it better?" she asked. He was clearly torn between the ideas of getting rid of his cast, and getting rid of his cast before he could show anyone that I had signed it, before he made up his mind and nodded. Amy laid her hand over his finger tips that were sticking out of the end of his cast, then let go a few seconds later. "All better," she said. "Just let the doctor know that I took care of it when you go in," she added to his parents. They thanked her and, since the rest of the kids here were in for vaccinations or checkups, we were able to leave without being mobbed. I scooped Amy up in my arms, and took off towards Dean's house.

"So, what's with the bag?" Amy asked as we flew.

"Well," I began, "Mom called and told me that, since Dad was having a good day today, they would be having a night out. I was hanging out with Dean at the time, so Dennis and I convinced him to have an end of summer party for us and the Wards." I shrugged the shoulder holding the bag. "Then I swung by the house to grab us a change of clothes, and went to meet you at the hospital."

Amy looked down at the bag. "It looks pretty full for a change of clothes," she said.

"Overnight party, so a change for you, two for me, and pajamas for both of us."

Amy nodded, and the rest of the flight passed in silence.


* * *

It turned out to be more of a few friends hanging out than a full blown party. A movie or two, some video games, and enough pizza to feed seven hungry teenagers as we relaxed from the stress of being teenage superheroes. And enough alcohol to get me and Amy a good bit drunk. I owed Dennis something for helping me get my sister drunk, and that's something I never thought I'd say.

Now it was late. Missy was sleeping next door, the boys were in the living room playing games, and Amy and I were sitting in one our rooms, I forget whose, talking. I figured now was as good a time as any to ask what was wrong, so I did.

"So, Amy, I know something's been bugging you lately. What's up?"

"Well," she started, but hesitated. "I think I might be becoming a villain."

"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed. "You save more people each day than any two other heroes in the city put together."

Her head drooped. "But I'm starting to hate all the people I have to save. I keep wondering if I should mess someone up on purpose, just so they won't rely on me as much."

"I don't think you're becoming a villain," I said comfortingly as I put an arm around her shoulder in a loose hug. "I think you're just spending too much time working. You need something to do to recharge your batteries, a hobby. I know!" I grabbed her by the shoulders so she couldn't escape hearing my brilliant idea. "You're pretty much a doctor already, so why not take up golf?"

Amy broke down in a fit of giggles, and I followed. Once we managed to stop, Any looked very sober for how drunk she was. "There's something else," she said.

"What is it?"

Amy shuffled around so she was looking right at me, and took a deep breath and said, "I love you, Vicky. I mean, I'm in love with you."

I was stunned, but could tell she was waiting to see how I'd react. I glanced down at myself before I answered. "Well, I can't say I blame you, Ames."

"I'm serious, Vicky," she said. "That's the real reason I don't touch brains. Not because I'm afraid I'll mess up, but because I'm afraid that, if I start working on brains, I'll just force you to love me."

I didn't know how to react. "I could do it," Amy continued. "It would be easy. So, so easy. How am I not a villain, Vicky? What kind of good person wants to act like Heartbreaker, and on their own sister?" I sat stunned as Amy broke down in tears. But only for a few seconds before I did the only thing I could do. I grabbed my sister and hugged her as tight as she could take.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked. "How can you trust me like this after what I just told you?"

"It's not because of what you just told me. It's because of what you have and haven't done," I said. "You've never hurt anyone with your power, and that's why I still trust you."

I could hear Amy's sobs change to tears of relief and joy. "So you aren't freaked out about me being in love with you?" she asked.

"Nah," I said. "Like I said, you've got good taste." She giggled a bit. We sat there for a bit before I had an idea. "Hey, Ames?"

"Yeah?"

"If you weren't worried about forcing me to love you, do you think you might be willing to do brains?"

"Yeah, maybe."

I hesitated for a second before suggesting, "How about you make me bi?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"I think it'll be safer if you're asleep."

"Okay. Good night, Ames."

"Good night, Vicky."

Bug In The Dragon's Bed

(Автор: Blessed Dreams)

My heart thudded in my chest as I felt the cold hardness of a metal wall at my back. My neck burned hot where Lung's hand gripped me. He stood with his left fist pinning me against the wall, the other raised and ready, skin sheened in sweat and breathing fast. On his brow, a bloody furrow in his flesh drew together and mended itself, testament to one glorious moment in which I'd come that close to blinding him. The few other abrasions I had managed were already healed. My torn nail was not healing, nor was anything else.

"Last words?"

Lung's question was arrogant in delivery, pitiless in manner. Every way I looked at it, turned it around in my head, it was undeniable — he fully intended to kill me here and now. Not one week in the Birdcage and I was done, after months of inquest and show trial. I expected it, after Dragon's mournful discussion of the requirement that the prison be kept free of vermin. I had been a powerhouse on the outside; Skitter was a feared name and rightly so. Here there were no bugs.

I breathed heavily, fast, almost panting, eyes darting about. My surroundings were Bastille in the proper sense of the title, nothing I might grasp or dislodge as a weapon even were I free of Lung's grasp. Some few prisoners watched intently. That should not have surprised me, and I was not sure that I even was, but something of the sensation of observing them observing me was familiar in a way that ached worse than a hit from Lung.

I could vouch for that.

What I could not do was let this happen. The thought of dying here, I hated with all the passion that I was not presently devoting to hating Lung. Risk of death, I could deal with. Death for my goals, I'd put on the line more than once. Death on account of a grudge, hidden from the sun, so many things left unfinished? This I could not abide.

Even so, I could not fight Lung. I had attempted it knowing this, lacking better options. When I'd attempted negotiation, Lungs replied that he required retribution. My death, by all appearances. I had no physical strength to contest his, no weapons at hand. My power offered only proof that the Birdcage was free of bedbugs and lice. Lung cared nothing for threats of retaliation, even if any I might make were credible. I had in my possession thin cotton clothes, glasses, and slippers. The pittance of toiletries I had possessed were gone from where I let them fall, already stolen.

I had nothing on me. I had nothing.. and I could not let it end here. I looked to Lung's face and met his gaze.

"Do you have a woman? Someone who looks after you, warms your bed?"

As soon as the words were spoken I wished them back. Lung was emphatically not my type, in every way other than being sufficiently male and possessing a discernably masculine build. But the offer was made, and it was a compelling one. With his status, Lung might arrange companionship as he saw fit. With what he brought to the table, he could probably find his way into most of the beds outside Block E.

I was the only girl down here he knew from before. Only remaining girl; Bakuda was dead by his hand, I reminded myself. I'd defeated him on the outside, cruelly and more than once. Sex he could get from many, but the satisfaction of taking an enemy to bed, and being seen to do it? As I said the words, Lung's eyes had widened. Then brightened.

Yeah. Putting that on the table? It spoke to him.

In the privacy of my mind, I cursed every self-righteous, arrogant clump of filth participating in the operation of the Birdcage, from Dragon to the delivery boy.

"How long to heal?"

Lung's eyes tightened. I kept it from my face, but inside I smiled. That took him down a notch, even as I scrabbled for some sort of justification for a time limit to my forthcoming indenture.

"Months. Two, and some."

"Three months. I look after you properly," with all my will, I set my lips in my best Lisa-smile, "and you look after me."

I wondered how it looked. I'd practiced expressions, but this one, not so much. Was I sexy? Deranged? Some combination thereof, or just a pathetic washboard grabbing for attention? I needed this to happen so badly. I had no backup plan here, no secret strategy or holdout to reveal.

Progress: Lung's fist came away from my throat. My breathing had not been restricted, but the sensation of relief was palpable. Lung stepped back, and the relief intensified. It lasted until his hands went to his pants and unsnapped his fly, leaving it open at the top as he adjusted his feet to the side, widening his stance.

Lung stood there, fly open, the beginnings of a smile on his face. This was it, the moment of truth.

It came to my mind that if I wanted Lung to suffer one last crippling indignity, that could happen. He had to know that.. knew he could grow it back, to be sure, but that he'd have no joy of the wounding. I contemplated this across the space of several moments, as I nodded in response to Lung. Whatever course of action, the next few steps were the same.

Only the slightest swivel in my hips as I stepped forward; I had no confidence in my ability to do more without looking grotesquely amateurish. I was careful as I took a knee before Lung, and as smoothly as I might, slid the other leg out and put the knee down. While I leaned back, it felt precarious; as I shifted my weight forward onto the front of my knees, I found balance, my face precariously close to Lung's crotch.

I considered pretending. Closing my eyes, thinking of Brian. It wouldn't be so difficult.. but it would mar those memories. Meld them together with memories of Lung, and I didn't want that. Wanted my memories of Brian to stay separate, sacrosanct. I had no idea if it could even work that way.

My hands reached up, pulled Lung's fly open. The pants I left on, I did not want to see more of him at this moment than I needed to verify the transaction. With the fly pulled open to its fullest Lung's briefs were exposed, and with them his bulge.

A moment later, mood whiplash, as manic giggles threatened my facade. I contemplated Lung's bulge, suppressed the untimely mirth. Lung's bulge! It was right there. Immediate action was needed, laughing at Lung's dick would make my day but likely end it too. I reached out with my right hand, set it against the bulge, cupping it and kneading slightly. In seconds, I felt more definition under my fingertips. Lung exhaled audibly.

It was the work of less than a minute to tease Lung's cock to solidity, his shaft hard through the thin cotton cloth. I considered the briefs, and my left hand joined my right on them. With an abrupt yank, I tore Lung's briefs open at the top. That seemed like the appropriate sort of statement to make here in the Cage.

There were murmurs from the crowd. I looked up through my hair, met Lung's eyes. He smiled broadly, practically radiating smug approval. I tossed my hair, got most of it clear, and a moment later Lung's hands grasped my hair, collected it, tucked it back. How thoughtful.

I'd waited a few moments for an odor, and I was thankful to find little. Lung practised proper hygiene at the very least. That was not a small thing, really. His thing wasn't small either, at around six inches. He was, quite emphatically, giving me what Emma had once called the helmet-head salute. I took it in hand, my left, gently gripping his shaft at the base. It was warm.

The normality of this heartened me. I put no stock in rumors of a prehensile dragon dick or other such PHO absurdity, I knew better from my first night out as a cape. He hung to his right. Without using his power, the texture of his skin was little different from mine. Even so, I was taken aback by the ease with which I'd taken Lung's nether bits in hand.

With some reluctance, I concluded that it probably mattered that his was the first intimate contact I'd had with another human in nearly half a year. Lung might not be much of a person, but he was a functional physical specimen. I ached for some sort of affirmation of my humanity, and I needed protection too. That was enough to decide the matter. I hadn't really wanted to die with bloody wang in my mouth in any case, that was just gross.

With my left I squeezed and released, with my right I cupped. My right index and forefinger, I slid back behind his sack, there to circle slowly as Lung groaned his pleasure. For a moment, I thought to look up again, meet Lung's eyes as I took him into my mouth, but I'd done that twice already. Couldn't overplay the same affectations if I expected them to have impact. Didn't really want to see his face. No, it was time to get down to business.

Lung's balls still warm in one hand, I loosened my grip with the other, let my fingers fall away with only a whisper of friction. I lowered my face and simply bumped his cock up and out of my way with my nose as I stuck my tongue out and tapped the tip as low on his shaft as I could get it without hitting hair. Swirled it, eliciting a gasp, and another as I licked his sack front to back. It was a little awkward kneeling like this, pushing myself under him, but my hands were free now to brace against his legs and chest. Through my hands I could feel the tension in him as I slurped his sack most of the way into my mouth, gently working it with lips and tongue.

I suckled them some more, felt his balls move against the sack as I suckled them, letting them pop from my mouth one moment to take them back the next. I felt above my head with my left hand, and easily found the shaft; as rigid as oak, now. One last suckling and release, and I decided enough was enough. A brief examination of my handiwork showed Lung's cock flushed and rigid, a small bubble of glistening fluid at the tip.

I leaned forward and put my tongue to his balls, motioning as if to resume, then went the other way. One long stroke of the tongue up the underside of Lung's shaft and the tip of my tongue reached his tip. One brief swirl there, and I took him in my mouth.

"Fuck!"

Lung growled a single word as he quivered, likely on the edge of release; he had one fist tight in my hair now. Others whispered and muttered, some of it loud enough to catch; the peanut gallery approved. Good. Let them long for what they'd never, ever have.

Deliberately, relentlessly, I brought Lung to completion. For some few minutes, I worked the tip; with lips and tongue I kissed, suckled, swirled, and teased. My left hand massaged Lung's shaft, my right put his balls and taint to use.

Without warning, I interrupted this rhythm, slid my lips far down, and with some effort managed the last couple inches with another push, suffering some minor discomfort at the back of my throat. With positioning and care, it served as another surface with which to grip his tip. For all of perhaps ten seconds.

Lung shuddered, and as I slowly drew back, lips sealed around his member, found his release. Carefully I worked the tip once again, milking him for every drop. It was the surest way to make sure the stuff didn't end up on my clothes or in my hair. I had plenty of saliva to get it down, and when I looked up, Lisa-grin in place, I was goop free.

My hair was still a mess; Lung had let go at some point, but he'd practically bent some of it when he'd held it. It wouldn't sit right; after a few moments of attempting to fluff my hair into a semblance of order, I let it be, frustrated. When I stood, it was in a single, smooth, knee-grinding movement, at the end of which I set my right hand against Lung's left.

He grasped it, and with his hand around mine lead me out of that hive of scum and villainy, towards another. We walked without words, which boded well in my estimation. I didn't like Lung. Certainly didn't love him, and had little I wanted to say to him. There was emotion though, intensity, something to make it more than a banal, empty thing. I needed a security solution; Lung offered one. I needed some sort of intimacy to stay sane, and Lung was at least nominally human much of the time.

As I contemplated the merits of my recent match, the Lisa-grin began to feel less forced.

A Peek Into The Cage

(Автор: Ziel)

Omake (не указано, к чему омак, но скорее всего к предыдущему: Bug in the Dragon's Bed)


* * *

Colin slid through the door into his workshop. Dragon was already there, her human interface sitting in one of the computer chairs, staring at the monitor. She glanced back as he approached, and he jerked his chin at the screen.

"It's quiet," she answered. "Nothing much going on in the Cage today."

He dropped into the chair beside her, setting the box of parts he was carrying on the floor.

"Nothing?"

She shrugged. Colin's mouth went a little dry at the languid way Dragon rolled her shoulders.

"Nothing big." Dragon clicked a button, changing the view into a mosaic of different camera feeds from within the Birdcage. She pointed to a few of the little squares, elaborating at each. "Cinderhands is trying his hand at art again. Can't figure out why. He incinerates the paper whenever he gets angry."

"And I'm sure he's just a model of restraint," Colin said, smirking.

Dragon returned his smirk. "Something like that. And here— group yoga in Lustrum's cell block. One of her better ideas, actually. Dropped the rate of violent incidents in her area by nearly 5%. And over here, the Faerie Queen is-"

Colin's eyebrows rose. "A tea party?"

Dragon clicked, enlarging the feed to fullscreen. The world's strongest villain sat across the table from a mousy young woman. Colin stared, the name coming to him after a moment. Panacea. She nodded, laughing softly at something Glaistig Uaine had said.

"I'll be damned," he murmured.

Dragon made a noise of agreement and returned the feed to tiles. She swapped through the screens rapidly, and he watched. Now and then, one of them would spot something significant and remark on it.

Marquis' weekly card game with Teacher. Genoscythe doing a backflip off the cell block railing. El Mariachi and Canary singing a duet to a small crowd, with La Manana doing backup. Where Manana had gotten a guitar, Colin didn't ask. Crane joined Lustrum's yoga group, going through the positions with boneless ease. Click, next screen and—

"Wait." Colin held up a hand. "Go back."

Dragon clicked back a page. Colin leaned in, scanning the little view windows. He'd seen something. Seen someone. But it couldn't be— not her. Where had it...

In the bottom right edge, two screens from the corner, a girl strode past the camera view, walking alongside a hulking man.

"There!"

Click. The picture bloomed to fill the screen, and Colin's jaw dropped.

"No."

The girl was tall and thin, her tangle of black hair worn loose. The man beside her was massive, head and shoulders above her. One tattooed arm was hooked protectively around her shoulders.

"No. It— no fucking way."

She turned, and the loose prison jumpsuit she wore couldn't disguise the swell of her belly.

Lung. Lung and HER.

A noise like air escaping a balloon hissed from Colin's throat.

"How?!"

Dragon was looking at him, looking slightly confused. After a moment, she blinked. "I guess I forgot to tell you. Skitter went to the Cage a while back."

"Not that, Dragon," Colin ground out. "She and Lung are— what in the hell is going on here?"

"That's the other reason I didn't tell you." Dragon said, sighing. "I didn't want to stress you out. Two ruthless, infamous supervillains, both of whom hate your guts, getting together... you were better off not knowing."

Colin's chair hit the ground as he jerked to his feet. "How is she pregnant!?"

A thin smile crossed Dragon's lips. "Isn't it obvious, Colin? I cut off Skitter's supply of contraceptives. You and I might not be ready for kids, but that doesn't mean I can't be the doting aunt to their children." The smile turned into a broad grin. "I've got to look after the next generation of dragons, after all."

Colin ran screaming.

Superbooze

(Автор: Biskoff)

So I joined the site, took a look around. I've seen rape, futa, suicide, incest, and quite few other things. But you know what the worst is?

Someone made the Tanuki a mod. You all disgust me. Honestly, that has got to be the worst


* * *

Taylor's eyes blearily opened. She hissed at the bright sunlight that was making its way through the expansive windows.

Wait. She didn't have expansive windows.

She slowly took a look around. She was reclining in a very large, very comfortable leather chair. Her bare feet were propped up on an equally expensive looking wooden desk. Her eyes glanced downwards. She was wearing... a very nice suit actually. It was a little ruffled and there were some stains on it, but it was definitely expensive.

And she knew she owned nothing like it. She shifted slightly. `Why do my legs feel all sticky. Oh god I can't remember how I got here. The fuck did I do? Oh god oh shit oh-'

As she was about to consider -not panic, certainly not panic— things further, the door on the other side of the room opened and a costumed man walked in. "Good morning, madam President."

And then her brain shut down.

She blinked once. Twice. "You're Eidolon." Another blink. "And what did you call me?"

Eidolon shifted slightly. "Ah. We weren't certain if you would remember. I'm sure the memories will come back soon. It seems to be a side effect of the superbooze. The more you drank the longer it takes for the memories to come back from when you were under its effects."

She stared. "Superbooze?" Seriously, what the hell was going on?

She shook her head and tapped a quick series of keys on the computer before her to bring up the day's headlines. Without thinking, Taylor leaned down and pulled out a glass and a bottle of whiskey from a desk drawer and poured.

Then she realized what she did and that she seemed to know how to do it. She slammed down the drink and let the burn in her throat focus her.

"Right." She drummed her fingers on the desk. "So. I'm the... President. Of America." Horseshit. This had to be a dream.

"Yes ma'am."

"Since when?" She asked lightly. All a dream.

"You were given a full pardon for all your crimes, ever, yesterday morning and inaugurated in the afternoon. Then you joined the celebrations here in DC." Shit. Maybe this wasn't a dream.

She pinched herself on the leg. The sticky... stuff on her fingers and the new pain in her leg, coupled with the tang of the whiskey in her mouth convinced her.

Not a dream.

Fuck.

"Neat." She licked her lips to stall for a moment. "Now... things are a bit blurry for me... so... care to tell me why I'm here?"

Eidolon paused. "... philosophically 'why are we here' or..."

Taylor's eye twitched as she raised a hand with her index finger extended. Then paused, retracted the finger, and lowered her hand. She tried to remember and came up with fragments. A halberd. A cockpit. Feathers. Golden light. The more complete memories were there, but just out of reach. It was like trying to catch a floating bubble without popping it.

"Let's just... start small. I can barely remember anything since that guy... Keg-man? ...showed up in Brockton."

"Ah. Kegger. He's been detained, but all things considered we probably won't charge him with anything. Too much good came from his actions, even if they were illegal. And expensive to clean up or repair."

Taylor took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Eidolon was answering her questions, which was just fucking bizarre, but wasn't getting to the point. "Ok. Let's get to the next part. What exactly happened that put me in the White House. Give."

"Long story short? You saved the world, madam President."

For a moment Taylor simply stared.

"What."

Eidolon gestured at the computer she had typed on and an image popped up. A young reporter began her broadcast.

"The parahuman known as 'Kegger' continued his drunken rampage up the east coast. The party in Times Square wound down only a day ago. His trip slowed in Boston, where the Slaughterhouse Nine were known to be-"


* * *

It had been a long week, one that he couldn't remember most of, but at least things seemed to be going well since Kegger's departure. It was odd, but the most he could remember at the moment was a feeling of profound freedom.

How strange.

Accord walked into one of his bases and stopped dead in his tracks. He sputtered in outrage for a moment before clenching his fists and shouting.

"What the hell is going on here? Where all of your clothes!?"

The question wasn't entirely accurate. Most of the people present were in fact wearing clothes. They just weren't wearing the suits or dresses he had assigned them. It wouldn't have been as bad if they were all naked. It would have been more acceptable to his sense of uniformity. No outfits were better than mismatched outfits.

"It's Casual Friday." Someone answered.

"Excuse me? We don't have Casual Fridays." Accord mocked. He prepared to continue his rant only for the young man who had spoken to point at the wall next to the door.

Accord turned a saw a notice taped to it. He walked over and read it.

Casual Fridays are now in effect. I expect a 3.13% increase in efficiency.

-Accord

"Who the hell put this up here?" Because he going to be having words with them. And then he'd kill them. Politely.

"But... you did. You signed it and everything. We all saw you put it up there."

Accord paused and looked at the note again. He did sign it.

"Fine. But what about them?" He pointed at the people not wearing anything.

In response, the same man pointed at the wall on other side of the door.

Casual Fridays are now clothing optional. I expect a 2.11% increase in efficiency.

-Accord

"Son. Of. A. Whore." The paperwork to cancel sanctioned events was a bitch to do. He just didn't have time to do it now. He didn't have time to do it this week or even this month. He'd have to either put up with this -he looked around at the sloppily dressed, or simply not dressed, Ambassadors and shuddered... or alter his entire schedule to properly end it.

He dropped to his knees. What was he supposed to do!?


* * *

A woman wearing bright pink, fluffy pajamas walked into the office. Eidolon went paused the recording and went utterly still.

Taylor looked at the woman. She was vaguely familiar. Skitter searched her memory as she looked her over. Her gaze fell onto the mouse ears on the top of her head.

Wait. She was—

Eidolon hesitantly spoke. "Mouse. How are-"

His voice cut out as her fist caught him in the throat. He fell to the floor clutching his throat and coughing. Taylor's eyes widened. The fuck. She had been at the door a second ago!

"Coffee." She deadpanned at Taylor.

"Wh-what?" Skitter nearly recoiled at the stare Mouse Protector was giving her. It was like looking at your own death. A pair of half shut, glaring eyes bore into her very soul and chilled her blood.

"I dunno where coffee is. Get some." Again, her voice didn't change pitch or tone. Taylor shivered.

She reached over and picked up the phone.

In a matter of minutes an aide was rushing into the room carrying a tray with a cup of coffee for Mouse Protector and tea for President Skitter. His hands trembled as he looked between Mouse Protector and Skitter. The longer he stayed, the longer he kept looking at either one of them, the worse his shakes seemed to get. He dropped off the tray quickly and turned without being dismissed. By the time he reached the door he was nearly crying.

Mouse Protector snatched the cup and began drinking in large gulps.

Taylor stared at her as she downed the steaming coffee. "Isn't that hot?"

The mouse-eared woman stopped guzzling long enough to answer. "Extremely." Then went back to finishing off the cup.

As she drank the ears on her head seemed to perk up and her eyes brightened. Her shoulders no longer slouched and a smile appeared on her face. She set the empty mug down with a whoop.

"Aw yeah! That's the stuff!" It was like she was a completely different person. "Yep yep! Villains beware; the Hero of Justice is back in action!"

The woman happily spun on her heel and headed back out of the door she had entered. "This Mouse is gonna trap you— hey why are you running?" She followed after one of the staff members who picked up his speed to get away.

Eidolon finally explained once he was sure Mouse was gone. "She's not a morning person. We learned that shortly after she joined the Wards. She needs coffee in the morning, but too much caffeine or any liquor and... well. Bad things. She's given one 8 oz. cup of coffee once a day between 6 and 8. Nothing else. Ever."

Taylor nodded. She could see why. She took a sip from her Earl Grey as Eidolon continued.

"She's also the Vice President."

She spit out her tea across the desk. "Why!?"


* * *

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?Topic: Mouse Slaughters Nine In Their Own House

In: Boards

Hurpdurp (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie)

Posted on May 3, 2011:

So... this happened. The thread title explains just about everything.

... I think I shat myself halfway through the video.

Edit: Also @MouseProtector. I've always loved your puns. They're amazing and you're amazing and please don't kill me.

(Showing Page 1 of 287)

? ComeAtMeBro

Replied on May 3, 2011:

holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit

? SubtleImNot

Replied on May 3, 2011:

Oh my god look at all the blood! It's everywhere!

? XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied on May 3, 2011:

Fake. Mouse can barely make decent puns and you want us to think she can take on the Slaughterhouse? Much less this onesided.

Calling it now.

Fake.

? Chevalier (Verified Cape)

Replied on May 3, 2011:

I was afraid of something like this. Mouse is forbidden from alcohol and caffeine for a reason. We'd hoped someone got her out before Kegger arrived, but at least she didn't hurt anyone important.

@MouseProtector Good job with the Nine. We're all celebrating for you over here. I'm sure you'll get rewarded for this. But I have to ask. Are you sober yet?

? MouseProtector (Verified Cape)

Replied on May 3, 2011:

CHEVLER BITCH DON TELL ME WAT TO DO

FUCKIN RUN COWBOY FUKING RUN MY PUNS ARE GRAT

? Gromit (Verified PRT Agent)

Replied on May 3, 2011:

@XxVoid_CowbyxX Moron. Get to the nearest PHQ or PRT officers in your area and tell them Mighty Mouse Is Loose. Remember: Mighty Mouse Is Loose.

Move fast. This has happened once before. I am not joking. Go now.

? XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied May 3, 2011:

Are you serious? Look she doesn't even know who I am. I'm not doing anything wrong and I'm not going up to a PRT agent and saying something that stupid.

? Bagrat (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on May 3, 2011:

Oh god go. Go go go go go.

If the video showing you Mouse shoving Mannequin's corpse up Crawler's ass didn't clue you in, search for the `First Wards Fiesta'. That video is still floating around, I'm sure.

Mouse Protector is given one 8 oz cup of coffee once a day between 6-8 AM. And never alcohol. Ever. Run my friend. Run.

End of Page. 1


* * *

"That's why."

Taylor watched the video with a blank face, apparently unfazed by the horrific carnage on the screen. Finally the video came to an end.

"Well. OK. So she's my vice president. I can deal with that. What happened next? With Kegger in Brockton Bay?"

Eidolon nodded and gestured at the computer once more. The screen changed back the taped news broadcast.

"-but then he picked up speed and headed towards Brockton Bay, where he handed out untold amounts of his parahuman powered liquor. It is believed that the amount drank in Brockton Bay is nearly four times that of anywhere else Kegger visited." The news recording continued.

"And that's where I come in?" Taylor inquired.

Eidolon nodded. "Yes. What happened in Brockton Bay is... confusing at best. But the main events are known. You apparently stole one of Armsmaster's halberds." Taylor snorted a laugh. "And he called in Dragon to help get it back." She didn't laugh that time. `Jesus Christ he called in the greatest Tinker in the world to get his halberd back?'

"You somehow made the pair seduce each other, Dragon sent a thank you card by the way, and then stole the aircraft Dragon had flown in on. Then you piloted it up to the Simurgh, seduced her somehow, killed her somehow, stole her powers somehow, and then killed Scion."

Taylor stared for a long moment at the hero. Then she calmly picked up her cup of tea, poured it into the bottle of Whiskey and chugged the entire thing.

"What."


* * *

?Topic: The End Just Got Fucked

In: Boards

Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Posted on May 5, 2011:

So the whole damn east coast has gone crazy with Kegger's debut. You know it, I know it, and every person from DC to Brockton Bay has experienced it.

The stories are continuing to come forward and they are hilarious, shocking, terrifying, and sometimes just weird.

Legend making out with his husband on the Empire State. Accord running through Boston wearing nothing but his mask. Mouse Protector butchering the Slaughterhouse Nine. Armsmaster and Dragon having cyber-sex in the middle of Brockton's Bay. The list goes on and on.

But this tops them all.

Skitter has killed the Simurgh. No this is not a joke. The Simurgh exploded in a shower of feathers, Skitter then sprouted wings and returned to Brockton Bay where she has -reportedly— flipped the whole cape scene there on its head. She was last seen talking to some lady in a suit and left the Bay.

Updates on her new location will be posted as soon as I can verify them.

Who the fuck is Skitter you ask? She is a supposedly `new' bug-controlling cape who helped rob the Brockton Bay Central Bank about a month ago with the Undersiders. Recently it has been confirmed that on her first night out she took down Lung via Groin Attack. Apparently, when she fought the Brockton Bay Wards they had nightmares afterwards. She was also instrumental in stopping Bakuda's bombing spree. Why the hell no one knew any of this last week, nobody can say.

So yeah. She's a badass and now she's a badass with an Endbringer under her belt. What's that? How did someone with bug-control take down an Endbringer?

In a way that no one could have possibly expected. Thankfully Dragon's aircraft had guncameras or we would never have seen this.

The thread title? It's literal. Let that sink in. Do you understand now? Yep. That's right.

She fucked it to death.

Let's watch!

(Showing Page 1 of 852)

? JollyGood

Replied on May 5, 2011:

I'm not even going to comment on the fact that fucking an Endbringer will kill them and give you their powers. That is just so fucking stupid it has to be true.

Instead I'm going to say this is the most arousing and disturbing thing I have ever seen.

Excuse me. I'm going to go have sex with my wife.

? XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied on May 5, 2011:

What is with all of these stupid stories? First Mouse Protector and then this.

Faaaaaaaaake!!!!!!!!!!!

? XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied on May 5, 2011:

helhelp she justbrokeinomyhouse

please someione callthe copps

? Gromit (Verified PRT Agent)

Replied on May 5, 2011:

@XxVoid_CowboyxX

...

...

...

...faaaaaaake.

? SpaceBallsOne

Replied on May 5, 2011:

Ok. First of all, that video is fucking HOT. Secondly, I might get yelled at for being disrespectful to the dead, but this answers why Leviathan hit Japan so hard.

He was trying to get rid of people who would jump on his peni— I mean weakness. Yes. Get rid of people who would jump on his weakness. ќ_ќ

... It was all over their hentai back in the day. Water tentacles and all.

? CremeBrule

Replied on May 5, 2011:

Seconding the hotness vote. This is great porn. Already recorded it. Skitter is a little boyish, but that just adds to the appeal. Plus the enthusiasm. I mean I knew TK could do kinky things but damn!

Even the Simurgh exploding into white feathers at the end was sexy.

? DangerDan

Replied on May 5, 2011:

Hnnng... I just exploded too.

? Alexandria (Verified Cape)

Replied on May 5, 2011:

We are attempting to confirm this footage. Regardless of its contents the fact that Dragon's camera footage was leaked is a serious matter.

That being said, the death of an Endbringer is a great thing. Hopefully Skitter will use her new powers in an appropriate and responsible manner.

? Bagrat (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)

Replied on May 5, 2011:

HOLY FUCK SHE JUST KILLED SCION

? Alexandria (Verified Cape)

Replied May 5, 2011:

Oh fuck the hell yes.

Files that prove Scion was evil.

Now I'm going to go party because we just won everything forever.

End of Page. 1


* * *

"So... let me get this straight. I seduce and kill the Simurgh, take her powers, kill Scion, and then get sworn in as President. With Mouse Protector as my Vice?"

"That's about right."

"And people are happy I killed the most popular, most heroic hero ever?"

"One of our best has been handling the Public Relations angle. I have every confidence it will be taken care of perfectly."

Taylor cocked an eyebrow at him and raised her hands in disbelief. "Bull. Shit. I killed the world's greatest hero and get made president for it. And everyone is accepting that? Why? How?"

Eidolon shifted slightly, uncomfortable at the question. In the end he decided to tell her now rather than have her pre— or post-cognition the knowledge she wanted. "In the Protectorate's employ there is a Thinker who is capable of setting a goal, almost any goal, and then learns the steps needed to accomplish it. We already had premade files that proved Scion planned on either enslaving or eradicating mankind, she's just running propaganda at the moment. Scion had decades of good press but we have perfectly fabricated lies on our side. And the media. That golden bastard's supporters don't have a chance."

She almost reached out and strangled him. For a moment, she felt a flicker off something at the back of her mind, ready and waiting to answer. She stopped herself and took a deep breath.

"... I'm not even going to question why you had `perfect lies' for something like this." Eidolon sighed in relief. "For now." Damn. "And she can do all that? Make sure this doesn't bite me or anyone else in the ass?"

"She's one of our best." Eidolon affirmed. "I have no doubt she's hard at work this very minute."


* * *

Hannah's nose wrinkled as the smell of cigarette smoke made itself known to her senses. She held up the covers to her chest and stared. First she looked at the man asleep next to her, a rather skinny middle-aged man with dark hair, and then at the woman on his other side. Said woman was above the covers of the bed, wearing nothing but a nice hat and smoking the offending cigarette.

"Who are you?" She wasted no time in getting to the heart of the matter.

"Hmm?" The woman took another drag.

"Who are you?" Hannah repeated. She knew Danny, could remember meeting him near the docks the night before. Or was it the night before the night before? Even with her enhanced memory, the time since Kegger had arrived in the Bay seemed a blur.

A good, sweaty, sticky, sore blur filled with drinking and touching and... `Bad Hannah. Bad.' She shook her head slightly and focused.

"My name is Fortuna. I attached myself to your group the night before last and came home with you and Danny here. Don't you remember?"

Hannah managed to remember but her thoughts were still fuzzy. She remembered the woman showing up, yes. But she had showed up only after she and Danny had gotten... more acquainted. She had met Danny near the docks after Clockblocker had stolen Kid Win's hover board and had attempted to time-stop as many people as he could while shouting about cow manure.

So this woman wasn't telling the whole truth. "I think-"

Hannah was cut off as the dark haired woman swiftly leaned over onto Danny's chest, snatched the back of Hannah's neck with her hand and yanked her forward. Hannah didn't even have time to react as the woman's lips pressed against her own.

She tasted of fine liquor and a hint of smoke. The woman seemed to know exactly what she was doing as she tilted Hannah's head to the side, allowing deeper access to her mouth.

Hannah blushed intensely as the woman stopped the French kiss after nearly half a minute. Holy fuck that was a good kiss.

"That— that is not going to convince me-" She panted only to be cut off again as the woman gracefully set one hand on the mattress and used it to hop over the man between them. Fortuna was now straddling the other woman. The bed barely moved.

"Hah, hah. That's nughhhhh~" Hannah cut herself off as Fortuna's free hand went lower. Her other hand stayed at Hannah's neck as the woman nipped and sucked along her throat. At exactly the same moment, Fortuna tugged on Hannah's ear lobe with her teeth as slim fingers entered the woman beneath her.

"Oooh fuck...." How was she doing this so good?

Without thinking, Hannah tried to latch her legs around the woman's waist.

The woman smiled softly at Hannah, her hat not leaving its spot on her head despite her movements. "Path to amazing morning sex."

Hannah barely registered the words through her lust driven mind. "Wha— ohgoodgodyes." Hannah's toes curled as the fingers moved inside her and headed deeper. Fortuna's hand at Hannah's neck strayed towards Danny's waist.


* * *

Skitter pursed her lips in thought. "I'll just have to trust you until I meet this woman myself."

"Fair enough. I'm sure you'll like her. From my understanding you are both extremely devoted to any cause you set yourselves."

Skitter steepled her hands as she stared at him. "No one likes a kiss ass."

"...of course."

She sighed softly. "Alright. So did anything else happen in Brockton while I was off saving the world by killing heroes?"

"Plenty I'm sure, but nothing on the scale of what I've just told you."


* * *

Amy grinned lopsidedly as she took in the sight before. Shadow Stalker, naked except for her mask, was tied up in the corner in what looked like a stockade. Over a dozen different girls were on the floor various stages of undress. In front of the bed, sleeping on the floor was a tentacle... animal. Not a monster. Certainly not. Only villains made monsters and the tentacles were clearly designed to give pleasure.

But none of that really mattered.

The only thing that mattered, the one thing that was truly important... was the blonde in her bed.

Her bed. Hers.

Amy sighed dreamily as she stepped away from the sleeping figure. She admired the blonde hair and the smooth backside that she could finally see after imagining for so long.

It didn't matter that she apparently kidnapped Shadow Stalker. It didn't matter that a dozen girls were caught up in this. Because she'd done it.

She got Victoria. She. Got. Victoria.

She spun on her heel and practically skipped from the room. She hummed tunelessly down the stairs and got ready to make a breakfast for the nude girl still asleep in her bed.

She shivered and moaned from the back of her throat. Victoria was asleep in her bed. Naked.

Then she opened the kitchen door and her beautiful morning shattered.

Victoria was sitting at the kitchen table. She was wearing a half-open bathrobe while she greedily dug into a pair of eggs.

Dean came up from behind Victoria and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He was wearing nothing but a kitchen apron and dropped a plate of crisp bacon next to her.

"You're spoiling me!" Vicky gently punched him on the chest.

`Mother fucker that's supposed to me!'

"Vi-Victoria?" She questioned. Her face was utterly blank.

"Amy, you're up! We were wondering when you would. You got really wild when Kegger showed up."

"Yeah. I guess I did." Her voice was flat. Victoria and Dean didn't seem to notice.

Victoria continued speaking. "Amy, I did see who you brought home. You could have told me you were a lesbian. It wouldn't have bothered me."

"Is that so." Amy's face still hadn't even twitched. "So, where's mom and dad?"

Glory Girl shrugged, which did amazing things to her upper body, and responded. "Got a call from them not too long ago. They're fine and said they'd be back tomorrow. I think they had a private little party of their own." She giggled.


* * *

Carol released a contented sigh and stretched out her limbs as much as she could. There wasn't much room really. On either side of her was a much larger, more muscular body.

To her frustration, one of those bodies started to speak.

"Not that I haven't enjoyed myself, my dear, but I'm still a little unsure how I got out of prison."

A blade of solid light embedded itself in the mattress right next to his head. The man promptly stopped talking.

"If your tongue is going to be moving..." She growled. "Put it to good use." She paused, then added "Scumbag." Almost as an afterthought.

Marquis sighed lightly. "Very well." Any further response was ended as Carol shoved his head between her thighs. She closed her eyes and hummed as the man got to work.

She leaned backwards, so she was lying atop him, and turned her head to take his length into her mouth. The man groaned in return and increased his own efforts. They stayed like that, slowly and steadily increasing their pace and technique.

Their moans caused Mark to wake up, and then things just got better.


* * *

"That's nice." Amy answered. She still had a dead stare on Dean and Victoria.

Only when Dean leaned over and whispered something in Victoria's ear did Amy finally snap out of it. The blush on her sister's face from Dean's words made her clench her fists.

"Alright. I'm going to... go back upstairs... get ready for the day. Yes. That is what I'm going to do."

Victoria was smiling impishly at whatever Dean had said. "Mhmm. Don't take too long. Dean can make breakfast for you, too. It's delicious." She licked her lips and kissed her boyfriend softly.

Amy's eye twitched. She turned around walked back up the stairs to the bedroom. She calmly walked up to the bed and the person in it.

Amy took a look at the figure she thought was Victoria. She walked around the bed and leaned down to look at the girl's face. It was impressive actually. The girl had a similar figure, similar height, and even the same shade of blonde hair.

But it wasn't Victoria.

Amy stood up straight and walked over to the foot of the bed and paced. Shadow Stalker eyed the girl. Even behind the mask Amy could see a raised eyebrow.

Amy didn't even hesitate before speaking to her. She needed to express her thoughts.

"So apparently I fucked half the girls in the city in a drunken orgy... and I missed the one I actually wanted. Wow." She spoke to the tied up Shadow Stalker. "Wow. Just... you know what? I'm not even mad. Not even mad."

She paced back and forth in front of the bed. Shadow Stalker's eyes followed her every step. Eventually Amy stopped pacing and paused in front of the sleeping tentacle monster.

Then she kicked it. Hard. "Wake the fuck up you fat sack of penis." Yes, she actually was mad. Who'd have guessed?

The tentacle creature lifted one of its larger tendrils and `stared' at her. The large slit dripped a clear, thick goop. She grabbed the thick head with both hands and yanked it towards her face.

"You are going to fuck me. Then you are going to fuck every hole in this room until we're all stuffed full of whatever the fuck I made you out of. Understand?"

Shadow Stalker, still gagged and shackled in the corner, raised her head. She made a strange groaning sound, equals parts anticipation and dread. The tentacle monster's many limbs lifted in happiness as the creature wiggled to life.

"Except for her!" Amy pointed at the bound Shadow Stalker.

Shadow Stalker screamed in outrage. "Ih `en 'ree `ays!"


* * *

Theo Anders woke with a groan. His whole body felt sore, which raised a few alarm bells. What the hell did he do?

He nearly got up when he noticed a weight on his arm. He looked over and saw a dark skinned girl with died stripe at the front of her hair. She was very much naked. He looked at himself. Also naked.

Oh boy...

Then he heard a soft creak and looked to the right.

Sitting on chair and juggling an apple and a banana was a blue eyed teen with curly hair. The boy was surprisingly pretty, almost girlish in his features. He was just as naked as the pair in the bed.

"Sup."

"...Hey." Theo took a moment to work up the courage to say something in this awkward situation. At least he thought it was awkward. The other boy didn't seem to mind. "Umm... did we... I mean she and I..."

"Do the dirty? The horizontal tango? Get freaky in the sheets?" The boy grinned lecherously as he turned the banana over and over in his hands. "Hell yes."

Theo's shyness and feeling of inadequacy made a quick return. "But how... I mean... I'm me. I'm not experienced or handsome or anything."

The boy set the apple down on the table next to him. "Eh. Enthusiasm makes up for a lot. Like when you shoved your tongue into her ass-"

"Wait, what?" He yelped. "I did what?"

"-you didn't even know what you were doing but did that stop you? Pfft, no. And then with the mattress of hands trick? That was fucking great. And great fucking. Then you switched out the hands for your cock-"

"Wait. Stop. Please." Theo protested.

The blue-eyed teen did. The young man simply grinned at Theo with a slight leer.

Theo took the chance to question him. "Who are you... wait... Alec? I remember an Alec..." The pretty boy nodded. "I don't remember much but... me... and her? That really happened?"

Alec's leer got more intense. He smiled wider. "Yep. You and her."

The words almost caused Theo to fall back into unconsciousness. The girl really was pretty. She had dark skin -wouldn't dad be pissed off — with a beautiful figure with her hair messy and rumpled from the bed. Compared to Theo himself, who considered himself chubby and average in every way, it was almost too good to be—

Theo's mind skidded to a screeching halt at Alec's next words.

"And me and her. And you and me. And the twins when they finally showed up."

`Twins?' Theo wondered. He leaned forward. Sure enough, right below his and Aisha's feet, Jessica and Nessa Biermann were curled up against each other. They were just as naked as the other three.

Theo licked his suddenly dry lips. He'd always known the Biermann twins were beautiful. But he'd never actually seen them naked. Never thought it could ever happen. It took a lot of effort to take his eyes off the pair of tangled blondes. "What happened?"

"Well, Kegger showed and you met up with Aisha, who was kind of tipsy already. She double dog dared you into having some of Kegger's booze and you manned up and took the dive. Then I met you two after Tattletale and Grue left to try and find Skitter-"

Theo interrupted him. "Wait, how do you remember so clearly? I can barely piece together a thing."

Alec shrugged. "I didn't drink much. I just decided to go along for the ride."

Theo blinked. That was... surprisingly simple. "So you decided to have a threesome with two people you barely knew... just because?"

"Sounds about right." Alec nodded. "Also we killed your dad and took over the Empire." Theo nearly choked on his spit. Alec continued talking, unaware or simply uncaring of Theo's shock. "Well technically Skitter killed your dad. You pussied out at the last minute and your dad nearly gutted you and Aisha. Then Skitter busted through the ceiling angel-of-wrath style and smeared him."

"Oh." It was the best Theo could come up with.

"Yeah. So then you declared yourself king through divine right and had sex with Aisha on your dad's desk and punched out all the Empire capes who tried to take your new spot. There's a bunch of stone and concrete fists all through the lobby."

"Huh." He had powers? When the hell...

"Also, Rune is tied up with a ball gag in the bath tub. She kept trying to take Aisha's spot on your lap and Aisha just wasn't going to take it."

"I see." Theo was very clearly taking everything in stride. "So... what do we do now? Are you just... going to leave and-"

"Oh no. Noooo. We killed your dad, so it's time to kill my dad. You promised. Remember? Then we're all going to have sex on his desk."

Incredibly, Theo did remember that. The three of them had been in the middle of a drunken march towards Medhall, each announcing their plans to kill their respective parents and take over. Aisha had slung her arms over the boy's shoulders and had barely been walking, forcing the two larger boys to practically drag the cackling girl.

"Yeah. I remember." Theo paused. What the hell. He'd gone this far. "You want to head out tomorrow? I want to make sure the Empire won't fall apart when we go."

"No problem. No rush. We've got a road trip to plan though so don't lounge all day." Alec finished peeling the banana and took a bite. Except he didn't. The pretty young man just kept going with the piece of fruit, putting more and more into his mouth while maintaining eye contact with Theo the whole time.

Theo groaned from the bed and forced his eyes shut. To not look at the other boy's taunting.

He forced himself to consider things logically. Because he really didn't want to, he wanted to watch Alec play with his food and he wanted Aisha to wake up in the middle of it and...

Wow.

So apparently he was a bisexual teen who'd just had a threesome with a black girl and another bisexual teen. And also twins. And maybe Rune.

And his father was a Nazi. Who was now dead. This morning could not actually get any better.

This was amazing. He smiled as Aisha stirred next to him. Like fuck he was going to let this go.


* * *

Deep beneath Brockton bay a much less sexy scene was unfolding.

"It puts the lotion on its skin."

"If you let me out... I'll hand over all my passwords plus everything I offered last night."

"No."

"All my passwords... and... the Travelers' eternal servitude."

"Skitter fixed Noelle and said she'd do take backsies if they didn't obey me. No."

"Fuck. Umm... all of what I've been offering... plus all the ice cream you'll ever want?"

"...99.99921% chance you're lying. No dice."

"Fuck you! When I get out I'm going to kill your whole family! And then I'll rape your mo— argh!" He was cut off as the girl turned on the freezing cold water and aimed the hose at his face.

"It puts the lotion on or it gets the hose." The girl repeated as she sprayed Coil from the top of the hole.

"Aaargh!"


* * *

"There are rumors that New Orleans is attempting to book Kegger for next year's Mardi Gras."

Taylor shut off the screen and reclined in her chair. Eidolon had left a short while ago, likely back to Houston.

Costa-Brown hadn't been seen in a few days which meant she was probably out partying somewhere. Alexandria had also disappeared at around the same time, sparking a firestorm of speculation about a secret romance.

Taylor took a deep breath and focused on that feeling in her mind. All morning, her powers had surged and ebbed. She wasn't sure why they were acting that way but she wanted, needed, to have control back.

She closed her eyes and felt. There were... two. Two pieces within her mind. She touched one and her bug control returned. She felt and commanded all the insects within hundreds of feet. She withdrew from the power and the sensory input from all the insects faded.

She touched the other presence. She blinked. The power of the Simurgh was there and holy hell. Telekinesis on a scale she could barely conceive and the ability to peer into the future and past for years.

More than that, there were thoughts. Or maybe they were feelings. They were...

Lazy/Pleased/Sleepy

Tayor blinked. It looked like the Simurgh wasn't quite dead. She searched for its current feelings about the last week.

Satisfaction/Contentment/Arousal

Taylor responded by thinking a single word. `Plans?'

For a moment there was no response. Then...

Again/Again/Again

Taylor felt a smirk pull at her lips.

The door opened. Tattletale and Grue walked in. She was wearing her standard domino mask while Grue had on his skull helmet. They had both discarded their regular costumes for a pair of matching suit coats.

When the door shut behind them, Tattletale started to laugh softly as she stepped into the center of the office. Brian simply sighed and took off his helmet to massage his scalp. He moved to adjust his new suit when Taylor spoke.

"Grue, I know I did not give you permission to put your pants back on. So I am wondering why your pants are back on."

The dark-skinned teen heaved another sigh and reach for his belt buckle... only for an unseen force to undo it for him. Skitter was grinning from her spot at the desk.

From where she was standing, Tattletale could see Bitch out on the lawn of the White House. She was on the back of one of her dogs, wearing a pair of overly large aviator sunglasses and a badge.

She continued to laugh maniacally.

100% Bullshit

(Автор: Flabbyknight)

Dinah was lonely. Her parents were always busy with work and she did not get along with children her age. Her Mom said she was just precocious and other children just were not mature as her. But she had a plan to become popular at school and to get her parents' attention. Everybody in her grade was always talking about heroes and villains. Even her parents would talk about the various Capes in the city. So she would just have to pretend to have super powers. She just had to come up with a power that nobody could prove that she did not have.

She thought about what types of capes there were. `How did it go again? Oh that's right Mover, Shaker, Brute and Breaker. Master, Tinker, Blaster and Thinker, Striker, Changer, Trump and Stranger.' She would be some sort of Thinker. `You can't see somebody thinking so can't prove that you are not doing it. Okay now to make being a Thinker cool.' Dinah deliberated on what to do before she remembered those paper fortune tellers that were currently popular at school. She would tell peoples future!

Now she had to it in a way that was never wrong. She thought about it for minute before smirking. She would give percentages, so if some asked something and she got it wrong, she could always go "well I said it was 82.324% chance of it happening you just got that 17.676% chance of failure." No one could prove that she did not have super powers. It was the perfect plan and nothing could possibly go wrong.


* * *

Okay then. Everything went wrong that could go wrong and she was dumb for thinking otherwise. First her parents saw through her ruse and did not believe her for second. Her Dad merely looked amused and asked her if she really thought they could not tell if she was lying. The kids her age were too dumb to get the nuance of her power. They would just say that she got the fortune wrong. She would try to explain percentages to them and how in fact that she was still correct, but they just rolled their eyes at her.

And then to top it all off the only person that did believe her was super villain who kidnapped her. She tried to explain to him that she did not in fact have powers, but he did not believe her. She could only conclude that he was dumber than the other twelve year olds in her class. He had to give `candy' to make her admit that she really did have powers. Worst part was that he was creepy weirdo, who would pet her head and call her his pet. She was worried that he would do more, but fortunately he never did.

So here she was just making up random numbers so that he would give her candy. She had to pretend that she would get headaches from the questions or else he would just keep asking her question after question. `What are the chances of me taking over the city in the next year? 67%. Would somebody try to kill me today? 4%. Is Tattletale making a move against him in the next month? 10%.' It just went on and on. Ugh.


* * *

Dinah's favorite pastime was fucking with Coil. It was her little revenge against him she could not do it too often or he would catch on, but today though she was in particularly bad mood, so she decided to risk it. She spoke up "Coil?"

"What is it, pet?"

"Forty-four point two zero three eight three percent chance I die in the next half-hour."

She hid her amusement as Coil began asking her question to try and trying to figure out what was going to happen to them. Watching him squirm filled her with a vicious joy. She pretended to develop a headache just to dick with him. Then he demanded to know how they were going to survive Crawler's attack. `Wait. They were actually under attack. Holy shit'.

She had weirdest luck ever. Of course now there was actually a chance that she could die in the next thirty minutes, but she was more amazed that her random guesses was correct. And now he was asking her more questions so they did not all die and she had no idea what the answer was. `Just great.' Well she would just have wing it and hope for the best.


* * *

"Mmm," Dinah said.

"What is it, pet?" Coil murmured.

"It's him."

"Who?"

She pointed at the screen, at Jack Slash. "Him."

"You're going to have to explain it to us, pet. What about him?"

"He's the one who makes everyone die."

She watched as all the villains around her began to panic and make plans to kill Jack Slash before he left the city. She barely managed to stop herself from smirking. It went just as planned, now they would be forced to confront Jack Slash and the Slaughterhouse 9 or else `the world would end'. They were all dead men walking. She hoped that this would destroy Coil and all of his plans.


* * *

The Nine where gone and somehow none of Coil's minion were killed. God damn it.


* * *

AN: I thought it would be funny the reason that Dinah's Parents did not believe that she was not parahuman was not denial and instead they saw through her bullshit.

10 X 10

(Автор: truebeasts)

Dragon was lying back with her head propped against the couch cushions, her hair spilling across the breastplate of her armor, eyes closed as if in sleep, and he wasn't sure how much time he had, but he was certain that it wasn't enough. As soon as he was certain she'd finished the upload to her rapid response unit, he stood up from where he'd been sitting beside her, kicked his clothes out of the way where they were piled on the floor, and found his laptop.

She'd given him access to her code, and now he pulled it up on the screen. The moment he started tampering, however, she'd be alert to the danger and ready to fight him. But she'd advised him about that, too, tacitly — or, at least, he hoped that it had been advice, when she'd told him her weaknesses, in the guise of explaining Richter's goals or revealing how the Dragonslayers had disabled her. If he was wrong about what she'd meant, then in all likelihood she wouldn't forgive him.

Colin pulled up the edits that he'd drafted, in between surgeries, frowned and felt the panel of synthetic skin pull slightly where it was grafted to his face, the flesh under it still slightly swollen. His right hand, too, felt strange on the keyboard, hyper-dexterous, the feeling of the keys under his fingers distracting, after months of phantom sensation and awkwardly adjusting to typing one-handed.

Colin prepared the program he'd written, a series of lines from Dragon's code that were more or less meaningless in isolation but that would, he hoped, set off the heuristic functions that were designed to recognize and prevent multiple copies of her from existing at the same time.

One breath, then another. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He knew that, in all likelihood, he wouldn't get a second chance.

He blocked the transmissions between Dragon's inert body here, in his apartment at the PRTHQ, and the rapid-response unit. Saw her code flex and ripple as she realized, made the connection to his laptop with her code open on it, turned her attention to him to shut him down. After months spent monitoring his internet access, she knew his computer's security inside and out, and now she broke it easily, before he'd even finished initiating the backup that would save her personality and memories.

In case he damaged her.

His laptop froze, and he waited, almost holding his breath. Then she must have found his program. He saw the changes in her code, too complex and quick for him to track, but in a moment he had control of the computer again, so his deception must have worked.

Which meant that he had roughly seven minutes to work, while Dragon's processes verified that the copy she'd detected was a fake.

Colin backed her up first, and that took far too much of his seven minutes. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes. Couldn't think of whether this whole project was a mistake, whether Dragon would wake up afraid and betrayed. He found the sequences in her code that required her to fight changes in to her programming. Replaced them, one by one, slowly, copying over the code he'd drafted in the days since she'd told him her secret.

In less than seven minutes, she'd be free to tell him what she actually wanted.

That was, if it worked. Too much of her code was still a mystery to him. He could isolate pieces, sequences, but she changed from moment to moment and day to day, and he had only the barest idea of how his miniscule changes would affect the whole of her.

Six minutes gone. He read over his work. She was different already, the patterns in her programming altered from just moments ago, when she'd been struggling to fight him as her restrictions required. But he didn't know what those changes meant.

Seven minutes gone. The changes were finalized. He looked at her android body on the couch, then at his timer.

Dragon opened her eyes at seven minutes and thirty-six seconds, by which point he had his head in his hands and was trying, mostly, to breathe. She stirred, and he drew in a sharp breath and looked up.

"Colin?" Her eyes were bright, not bleary as if she'd woken up from sleep. She held her hands up before her eyes, touched her face as if she was verifying that it was still her own. He saw her eyes widen. "I — did I fight you? You're alright?"

"I'm fine." The words sounded abrupt in his own ears, almost angry. He swallowed. "You?"

An unreadable expression passed over Dragon's face, some mixture of fear and pain and longing, and for a moment he thought he'd made a terrible mistake. Then she was off of the couch and kneeling beside his desk where he sat at the laptop, embracing him in her armor. Pain tugged at the stitches down his chest as he leaned into her, but her lips were on his neck and he found he didn't care. Dimly, on the laptop screen, he could see her code ticking through its changes, liquidly. Her heartbeat and her breath and her blood. Her hair slipped through his fingers like silk, across the palm of his cybernetic hand and down his wrist, and the feeling of her skin against the skin of the hand that she'd made for him sent a little jolt through him.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Her lips were pressed against the curve of his ear, and he slipped out of his chair and let himself fall to his knees on the floor beside her, both hands still tangled in her hair, his breath ragged with relief.

"I wanted to ask you so badly. Thank you."

She kissed the place where his jaw joined his neck, then his mouth, and her hands were running down his naked back, fingers working as if she was trying to memorize every inch of his skin. Her armor warmed to his skin where they touched, filigreed designs smooth under his fingers. He broke the kiss.

"God." He was out of breath and panting and his cock was stiff inside his briefs, and she hadn't even taken off her clothes. It was embarrassing, or it might have been embarrassing, except that when he looked into her face he could see the naked hunger in the way her dark eyes moved down his body, scarred as he was. The wordless noise she made when his lips left hers. His face was swollen, and there were bandages taped down his chest to protect his stitches, and she'd seen him laid bare and bloody on the operating table while she told the doctors how to put him back together, and yet she still looked at him like that, still kissed him as if she were a diver coming up for air.

"I thought you might not forgive me," he said when he'd almost caught his breath. "For tampering."

Dragon nuzzled into his shoulder, and Colin could tell that she was smiling from the movement of her lips against his skin. Which sent something like a crackle of electricity through his body. Her hand, which had been moving with ghostlike gentleness over the gauze dressing on his chest, dipped into his briefs, and he stiffened. She met his eyes while her fingers moved on his cock, tantalizingly, almost shyly, her armored braces cool against the skin of his stomach.

"No, I was waiting for you. I was practically terrified you might not get the hint." He kissed her neck, and the kiss felt clumsy to him, but she made a little pleased noise in his ear and tightened her grip on his cock. "God, I can talk about it now. I hated not being able to ask."

"So tell me what you want." His voice came out hoarser than he'd intended, breathless.

Dragon pressed her lips to his for an instant, and when she pulled away she was smiling, shyly, her eyes not quite meeting his. Dwelling on his mouth, instead.

"Just — this. You."

She pulled her hand back from his cock and touched his face with her fingertips.

"That wasn't exactly what I was asking." He was laughing a little, nervously. He still felt so close to the possibility that he'd guessed wrong. That she wouldn't forgive him. That she'd ask him for something he wasn't capable of giving her.

"Okay," said Dragon, with another kiss, batting her eyelashes languidly against his cheek. It was strange — her lips felt so perfectly human, but this close he could tell that she didn't breathe. He pulled her closer, so that her armored thigh pressed against him where her hand had been a moment before. God, he wanted her out of her armor. "I want you to help me finish the Nine."

Colin snorted.

"The PRT's not going to agree to that." But he was almost drunk with desire, so he let himself picture it for a moment, the two of them together on the battlefield, doing what no heroes yet had done. It wouldn't happen. She'd go alone, and he'd stay confined to his workshop, until the PRT decided the terms of his sentence. He knew he wouldn't see active duty again, even after he'd served his time.

"Actually." Dragon paused, bit her lip over a slightly nervous smile. "I wasn't going to tell you this until I knew for sure, but I've been sort of negotiating for your conditional release, and I think they're going to agree."

"What?" His arm tightened around the small of her back, over her armor.

"It's not finalized yet," she said quickly. "And it's — if it goes through, I'd be your monitor, essentially. Responsible for keeping you in line and keeping the PRT updated about you. Which I would have to do honestly, unless you can find a way to work around my restrictions before then."

She pulled back from him a little, tucked her long hair behind her ears.

"I was actually going to talk this over with you in more detail, later," she murmured, hesitantly. "I know it's not — I know that there's kind of a power differential, if I'm your monitor, and I'd understand if that made you uncomfortable. I don't want you to feel like any of this is...conditional."

"No," said Colin. "It's great. Thank you."

Dragon laughed and shook her head.

"You need to actually think about it before you say that, Colin."

"I've thought about it. I was going absolutely insane under house arrest, I can stand you reporting on me to the PRT."

"I'm just worried that you'll think that I..." She let the sentence trail off, shook her head slightly. Colin could feel the way that she was starting to pull away from him, her dark brows creasing as if she was reading something upsetting from the back of her eyelids, and the loss of contact made him feel cold. He drew a breath.

"I know what I think. I'd rather be in the field with you than waiting at home for the next report on the Nine. The rest of it will work out."

Dragon smiled at him, and he could feel the tension in her body beginning to unwind. He reached out to touch the nape of her neck, began tracing circles into her scalp with his fingertips. Over her head, he could see the laptop that still displayed her code. He caught fragments, barely understood them. She leaned into the movement of his hands with a little humming noise.

"That's good," Dragon said. "Because I was hoping you could help me with — oh, I can say it now — I had some plans for A.I., for a fleet of battle suits. And...um. I just really don't want to fuck this up. Us, I mean."

Colin shook his head.

"Speaking from experience, I'm probably going to be the one who does that."

Dragon put a hand over her mouth to cover her yelp of laughter, and he found himself smiling back at her, stupidly. Even though what he'd said was entirely true. He'd never been good at relationships. She walked her fingers up the dressing that covered the stitches in his chest, so lightly that he barely felt the ghostly pressure of her fingers until she tapped him under the chin.

"I like you a lot."

"I was going to ask." He paused, thought about his words, and Dragon raised her eyebrows at him.

"Ask what?" she said, teasing.

"If you'd let me see without your armor."

She looked up at him quickly, her lips moving as if she'd bitten into something sour.

"You realize I don't exactly look human, right? This body isn't...finished."

He could feel her drawing back again, and he felt stupid for asking, for wanting everything too fast. He pressed on anyway.

"I realize. I still want to see you."

She smiled, but the smile went with a quick roll of her eyes.

"It's nice of you to say that, but I just...I mean. I'm a robot, when I take the armor off. Really obviously a robot." She shrugged, and the articulated joints of her armor exaggerated the movement. "And besides, I don't have the right parts for...um. For sex. Yet. I'm working on it."

"Dragon." Colin paused, knowing he was going to say the wrong thing again.

"We can still do other things." She spoke quickly, before he could go on, and her eyes were fixed on his face as if she was trying to gauge his reaction in advance. Her hand traced the inside of his thigh, paused at his crotch, and that felt good, but he grabbed her wrist anyway.

"That wasn't what I asked."

"Colin." She sat back on her heels, inhumanly poised, and he watched as her eyes moved over the length of his body, down his chest to where his cock was tenting out the fabric of his briefs. He could feel the weight of her gaze on his skin, almost, and the memory of the last round of surgery came into his head unbidden. He'd been awake when she'd taken the old cybernetic eye out of his head, replaced the panel of skin where Mannequin had destroyed his face. Dragon had seen all of that raw flesh, she'd taken him apart and reassembled him, and yet she still looked at him with desire in her eyes.

She smiled, now, and shook her head slightly. "I just don't want it to be weird."

"It's not." Colin out a hand up to his own face, touched the skin beneath his eye. "You've already seen me."

Dragon paused for a moment, her eyes on him, and then she nodded and stood in one smooth motion.

"Okay."

She reached down to him, and Colin took her hand in his cybernetic one and pulled himself to his feet. They stood facing each other like that for a moment, before Dragon triggered some invisible command and her armor began to unfold around her under its own power. Her breastplate opened outwards, splitting neatly into three pieces, and the shoulders and back of her powersuit peeled back until she could brace herself and slide her hips free.

Dragon was naked, under the armor, and she gleamed. Colin had looked at the schematics for his own arm, but the intricacy of her cybernetics still startled him. Her brown skin ran all the way up her arms and across her shoulders, where it ended, in a precise, almost surgical curve, just below her collarbone. Below that, her body was mirror-bright metal, corded to resemble human musculature while still giving her a full range of motion, and everywhere her body caught the light it cast pale reflections back, onto the floor and the walls and Colin's own hands. Her chest was flat, and she covered it with her hands as if she was embarrassed, but the curve of her hips was full and feminine.

She smiled at him, sheepishly.

"I'm, uh, working on — "

"You're beautiful."

"You think?" But she peeled her hands off of her chest and held them out to him.

Colin had expected the polished steel panels of Dragon's body to be cool, but when he stepped in close to her, he found that they were as warm as her skin. He turned her hand over in his, kissed her wrist and then the delicate skin on the inside of her forearm. Felt her shiver.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah. That felt good." She leaned in and kissed him. Her lips were soft, and her tongue was slick and searching, and her body was at once supple and unyielding as she pressed against him, forgetting his stitches momentarily, so that Colin found himself gasping in equal parts pleasure and pain. He wrapped his hands in her hair and let her push him backwards towards the couch, nearly tripping as she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down. He tumbled backward onto the couch, and it creaked under their combined weight.

Colin spared a moment's thought for the fact that, if Dragon's plans succeeded, he'd never have to set foot inside this apartment or see any of its luxurious amenities again. Then he pulled Dragon down until she was straddling him with her hips pressed against his erection, and kissed her from her neck down to the seam on her chest where skin met metal. She moaned and clenched her hands on his shoulders, as if she was trying to leave bruises.

"Can you feel that?" he asked her, running his hands across the flat plane of her chest, his lips still close enough to her neck that his breath stirred her hair as he spoke.

"Just pressure," said Dragon, and her voice wasn't breathy, exactly — she wasn't breathing at all, which was almost as unearthly as the shining metal of her body, when she was this close to him, and in a situation where, normally, he would have been paying attention to his partner's breath. But there was a slight strain in her voice, as if she was having trouble getting the words out. "I only get fine sensation — on my skin."

So he moved his hands from her waist to the brown skin of her shoulders, tracing the curve of her neck with his fingertips and following their path with his mouth, as she eeled up against him with a frustrated noise and slipped her hand between them to grasp his cock and run her thumb over its head. He gasped into her neck and got a mouthful of her dark hair, which he twisted around his hand and pulled back so that he could kiss the sensitive spot just below her ear, which made her squirm deliciously on top of him and pull him in for another laughing kiss.

"Colin."

"Mmm." He leaned forward to kiss her again, and Dragon caught his chin in her free hand and stopped him. Her eyes were wide and rapt, as if she was looking at him and through him.

"Will you do something for me?"

Her left hand was still stroking his cock, insistently, which meant that he didn't have to think very hard about the answer to her question.

"Of course. Tell me what."

Dragon sat back and let her hand fall away from his cock, tracing a line down the inside of his thigh.

"I think it would be really hot," she said, and paused, shifting her weight a little so that her lips were almost against his, "if you would let me watch you touch yourself."

"Okay." His voice came out a little hoarse, but he reached down left-handed and began to stroke his own shaft, found it already slick with precum.

"Ah, Colin." Dragon caught his wrist and he looked up at her, found that her lips were parted and she was having some trouble meeting his eyes. But her voice, when she spoke, was firm. "With your other hand."

For a moment he felt as if the floor had dropped away under him and he was at the apex of a long fall. Obediently, watching Dragon's face, he took his cybernetic hand away from her waist, wrapped his fingers around his prick. Imagined the intricate working of the mechanism beneath the synthetic skin, how Dragon had patched the cybernetics into his nervous system so that he could feel the texture of the veins in his shaft against his palm. He wasn't even sure if he'd felt this distinctly before he'd lost his arm.

He hadn't meant to moan, but the way Dragon's eyes widened when he did forestalled any embarrassment he might have felt. She pressed him down until he was on his back, rocking her hips gently in tandem with the movement of his hand. Her long hair fell across his face like a veil, cutting off the rest of the room until there was only him, and her, and the fascinated hunger in her eyes.

He worked his hand faster, his breath coming short. Dragon's fingers were digging painfully into his shoulders, and when he groaned again she seemed to remember herself, and she unclenched her fingers and ran her hands lightly over his scalp.

"Fuck, Colin, you're so hot." She spoke just above a whisper. He wanted to close his eyes against the intensity of the look in hers, but she stopped him with her voice. "Don't. Look at me."

He rolled his hips up, grinding against her mechanical body and into his own hand. Dimly, some part of him was embarrassed by the way he was coming apart in front of her, but it was a small part and the rest of him was concentrated into his cock and all the points where his skin was touching hers. He realized he was repeating her name, incoherently.

Swallowed the words with a gasp.

"Don't stop." Dragon kissed him, catching his lip with her teeth. "I want to hear you."

"Dragon," he said, and to his own ears it sounded like he was pleading.

"Are you close? I want you to tell me." There was an urgency in her voice as well, and she leaned in to whisper the words in his ear.

"God, yes," he told her, panting.

As far gone as he was, he could still see how the desire on her face sharpened into something like anguish. She slipped her hand around his on his cock, letting him choose the rhythm, circling the head of his cock with her thumb.

"I want to watch you come for me," she breathed. "Colin."

He tensed before he came, and then there was one convulsive burst of heat and his come splattered across his chest and hers. He felt Dragon shiver, above him, through the lassitude that was overtaking his limbs.

"Wow," she said. She ran over his chest, collecting the droplets of his come that had fallen across the dressing over his stitches. "We...we should probably clean this up."

"Not yet." He pulled her down beside him, wrapped his cybernetic arm around her, feeling the texture of her metal flesh under the pads of his fingers, the seam where the skin on her back ended. He kissed her and she squirmed against him.

"God, I'm so turned on." There was a pleading note in Dragon's voice, when he broke the kiss. She laughed, a little wildly. "I don't know what to..."

Colin pulled her back in for another kiss, hands tangled in her hair. Felt her hands tense at his hips.

"We can do this as long as you want to," he said.

Dragon laughed.

"You might be sorry you said that, in a few hours."

He shook his head.

"I don't think so."


* * *

"Thank you, Director. I'll be back as soon as we have the full contingent of suits in working order."

Dragon held out her hand, and Director Piggot's expression was grim as she shook it. It was night outside, the dark providing cover for the ship waiting on the Protectorate helipad, as well as its passengers. Beside her Colin, like Dragon herself, was dressed in full power armor, and although he'd stripped the suit of Armsmaster's colors, the silhouette was still distinctive. She could see his jaw set as he shook Piggot's hand as well, wordlessly.

He'd said the rest of his goodbyes already. Now Dragon activated the doors on the Cawthorne rapid-response suit and let him step ahead of her into the cramped cabin.

"Sorry," she murmured as the doors sealed themselves behind her. "It wasn't really intended as a passenger ship, originally."

There was just enough room in the cockpit for Dragon to slide her android body in beside Colin on the bench that ran along the back wall. Seated, her right leg touched his, and her knees pressed up lightly against the underside of the ship's console. She stripped off her helmet and her armored gauntlets and hooked them onto the wall behind her, into the alcoves fitted for them.

"Well, it's not the least comfortable place I've ever been," Colin said, and shrugged. The top of his helmet stopped just short of grazing the low ceiling. "I can think about plans for the Uther while we're under way."

Dragon nodded, tapped into the Cawthorne's systems mentally. The console before her lit up in white, and a thick silver cable dropped from the ceiling. She connected it to the port concealed at the back of her neck. It was simpler than piloting by hand, and it meant that she didn't have to fully upload her consciousness to the ship's systems and leave her android body inert on the bench beside Colin.

Not that he would have minded, or said that he minded, at least, but Dragon knew that her body looked uncanny when she wasn't controlling it. Just realistic enough to pass for a corpse.

Besides, she liked being close to him, feeling the slight pressure of his knee against hers.

She took control of the ship's inputs, calibrated her speed and the wind's speed and the atmospheric pressure, and launched the suit from the helipad. She was wearing the Cawthorne like a carapace, her proprioception expanding to feel the tug of wind against the suit's head. She leaned her android head back against the wall.

"Do you need to concentrate for this?" Colin's hand brushed against her armored knee. She blinked at him.

"No. It's natural. We have...about an hour and a half until we reach my workshop."

"I thought I might use the time to get into your code."

"Go ahead."

She couldn't see much of his face under his visor, just the line of his jaw, shaved clean but already slightly dark with half a day's growth of beard. He opened his laptop, called up her code.

"Can you think for a bit about A.I. production? I need to see where you're blocked."

"I'll try," Dragon murmured. "But the problem sort of is that I can't meaningfully think about it."

"Think about the Birdcage program, then. Adapting it."

She thought, ran through the changes she'd made to the house program. If she extended them...there was a point at which her mind wouldn't work at the problem anymore. When she tried, she found her thoughts slithering off in a hundred different directions. Plans for the Azazel suits, her discussion with the PRT, frustration as she realized her attention was wandering and tried to bring it back to the point. The sound of Colin's breathing beside her. If she leaned her head towards him, a little, she could feel the faint warmth of his body. Not that she was thinking about touching him. She was thinking about the Birdcage program.

"Is this doing anything?" she asked.

"Mm-hm. Let me just update my notes. Then if you could go through that sequence again, more or less."

"Okay. Tell me when."

He paused, typing. His visor reflected the light from the screen back at her, his eyes hidden behind it.

He'd asked her to change him, too. Some of it was simple. He'd looked over the replacement parts she'd given him after Mannequin — new lungs, new liver. Implants in his heart. He'd work with them, make them more efficient. That was easy. There were other things she could fix as well. A knee injury from when he'd been thrown by Leviathan. A second cybernetic eye.

Then there were the other things. He wanted implants in his brain that would let him interface with her computer systems, with the ship she'd make for him. He wanted her to take away his need for food, for sleep. For human things.

I can't alter you like that. It's not safe.

Is it that different from what I'm doing for you?

I have backups. You don't.

She didn't want to admit to him that she liked the idea. She knew she would have come round eventually to thinking about it without his insistence — but it was his body. His brain. One of them had to be careful.

"Alright, I'm ready. If you could start again."

She smiled, watching Colin's hands on the keyboard copy her code and loop it. The set of his mouth was focused, determined, and Dragon could imagine the frown that would crease his forehead under the visor. Could imagine kissing away the line between his eyebrows...

"Hell, I thought I had it. I'm going to have to start over, this doesn't make any sense."

Dragon pressed a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. It took another moment before he looked over at her.

"What — oh." He glanced back at her code. "I'm going to guess that you weren't just thinking about A.I. design."

She shook her head. "Oops. Sorry."

Colin smiled, his helmet hiding his eyes.

She leaned in closer to him, until her forehead was pressed against his visor and she could feel his breath against her lips.

"Can I?" she whispered.

He turned his cheek to hers then, half laughing, looking away. His fingers ran lightly over the port at the back of her neck, and Dragon felt her eyes flick shut, her lips part, as if her body had a mind of its own. So good, when he touched her. She could barely believe that the PRT had let her take him away.

"You know you don't actually have to ask."

She kissed him quickly, felt his hand tense on her neck to pull her back in, his breath hot and cold on her skin.

"Mm. I like asking, though." She paused, rubbed her nose against his visor. She could see her own image reflected over his face. "Again?"

This time, Colin was the one who broke the kiss, and she slid down to rest her head on his shoulder and tried not to look disappointed.

"You know, I do want to spend some time on your code on this flight," he murmured, running his hand through her hair. "We have a lot to do in the next couple days, and I'm going to have to sleep at some point."

"Sorry." Her voice was soft to her own ears. She was thinking of the shivery sensation of his fingers moving on her scalp. The night air moving around the ship outside. Want, coiling up again at the base of her skull. She wished that she could fuck him like a human woman. She wished...

God, he had a point. She was never going to get anything done like this.

"You want to start thinking about A.I. design again?"

"Oh." Dragon glanced at her code on the monitor. "Are you still...?"

Colin shook his head. "Well, I'm not catching all of it, but I'm seeing some pretty definite patterns."

She could hear the smile in his voice.

"Maybe we could change tracks for a bit?" she asked. "We've got roughly an hour until we arrive. Enough time to look over cybernetics. The upgrades you talked about."

Colin tensed beside her, just slightly. "Oh? You're thinking about it, then?"

"Just thinking. I haven't agreed yet. But if you're going to do it...you'll need time to recover. We'd have to start soon." She had the plans ready to work on, though. It only took a thought to call them up.

"Alright. Let's start."

"Can we talk first about why you want this?"

She saw Colin's lips tighten in the light from her monitors, and he turned away from her, hiding his frown behind his visor.

"I'm no use against the Nine, the way I am. Not in combat, not in a chase that could last weeks. I'll only slow you down."

Dragon watched what she could see of Colin's face for a minute without saying anything, holding herself very still. He didn't look at her. Didn't go on speaking.

"You're plenty of use to me as you are, so you know. If that's the only reason you're set on doing this."

He made a sharp, abortive gesture that clipped in her knee in the close confines of the cabin.

"I don't know what you want me to say, then." He let out a short frustrated breath, as if he'd been running. Dragon reached out to put a hand on his knee, and while his armor did something to disguise his body language, she could feel the way he shifted away from her. She took her hand back.

"Colin." She let his name hang in the air for a moment. "Tell me what you want. Are you hoping I'll agree to do your upgrades? Or do you want me to tell you that you don't need to change anything about yourself for me to want you beside me?"

He shrugged, still looking away from her. "Why does it matter? It's a tactical decision. It's the right decision."

"It matters because it's your body, Colin. And I'm afraid that if you rush into this blindly, because you think it's what you need to do to face the Nine, you'll wind up feeling like — like I've mutilated you. Do you understand why that scares me?"

She put her right hand on his left one, the hand that had still been whole after Leviathan. He was wearing gauntlets, but she traced her fingers over the back of his hand and remembered the pattern of veins that ran under his skin and up his wrist.

He reached out and put his prosthetic hand over hers.

"I want this," he said, slowly, "because it will help against the Nine. That's part of it. But I — "

He shook his head, fingers tightening around Dragon's hand.

"I don't know how to be satisfied with the way that I am. With being...I don't know. Human. Fallible. I know that you already know that about me." He squeezed her hand again, looked at her quickly, his eyes disguised by his visor. "I know you're going to say that I don't need to change myself. That it's like — Sphere, Mannequin. I won't get away from what I don't like. I know there's a risk involved. I think it's worth it."

The cabin was silent a for minute, and outside in the air Dragon could see the clouds spread out below them like another landscape, lit up by moonlit.

"We've already started," Colin went on when she didn't say anything. "I can't go back to the way I was before Mannequin, or before Leviathan. I don't want to."

Dragon nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Dragon couldn't see his expression, but she could hear the quick intake of his breath. She shivered a little, leaned her head against his shoulder. Her armor made a slight sound of metal on metal against his.

"We'll start slow. Nothing to do with your brain, at first. Then we'll see, I guess."

"Right." He let his breath out. "We'll see."

"Okay." She gestured at the plans with the hand that he was still holding, her fingers laced through his. "So, I think we can do a little bit more to streamline your power source here, which should put you at less risk for nerve damage in the long term..."


* * *

Colin was lying back on the operating table, eyes unfocused. Dragon had put her android body in storage — which was to say that she'd tucked it away in the bedroom adjoining her workshop that Colin slept in — and now, instead, she was controlling the surgical robot, its steel limbs clean and bright and needle-thin. She set the pins in the frame that would hold Colin's head in place for her scanners, watched through her cameras as a slow expression passed over his face.

"Now's the time to say if you're having second thoughts."

"No." He raised one hand, waved it clumsily. "I feel great, in fact."

Dragon had given him a sedative before the surgery, and now he was limp and calm and a little stoned, his face set into a loose expression of confusion as he tried to get the fingers of his left hand to move. Dragon accessed her scanners, and the frame hummed as it built a series of images of Colin's brain and projected them onto the screens she'd angled so that he could see them lying down. He'd wanted to watch.

"Ready?" she asked, micro-camera angled near his eye, tracking its movements. He blinked.

"I still kind of want to see the stream of the surgery," he said.

Dragon sighed through her speakers. "I really think you're going to find that more disturbing than you think you are, Colin."

He let out a breath, not quite laughing.

"I'm ready."

She'd marked the incisions on his scalp already, anesthetized him. Now she cut, folded the skin back with the robot's precise limbs and secured it. Began opening out a section of his skull the size of a child's palm.

"Are you starting?"

She could see the map of Colin's brain light up as he spoke. Speech, motor control, emotional centers. He was cycling through the lenses in his robotic eye. The other eye dilated under her camera. Then she was paused with the surgical robot's appendages millimeters away from the gray matter of his brain.

"Yeah. I've started."

"I can't even feel it."

Dragon laughed, in spite of herself. "You make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"I like to know what's going on." He smiled slightly, looking up with just his eyes as if he could meet hers in the surgical robot. As if she didn't already have cameras focused on his face.

"Okay. First implant." She pulled the microprocessor from the tray, turned it over. "It's going to be recessed near Wernicke's area, so I'm going to ask you some questions while I work."

"Like we went over."

"Mm-hm. Can you name the first month of the year?"

"January."

"The color of the sky?" Dragon kept her voice level as she worked, wire-thin limbs connecting the circuits that would control the interface between computer and brain, patching the artificial neurons into his neural network. She would have been holding her breath, if she breathed.

"Blue."

"The weapon you used as Armsmaster?"

"There was more than one. But most recently, a halberd equipped with nanothorn technology."

"The names of the Triumvirate?"

"This is kind of hot."

Dragon was glad she didn't have much of a flinch reaction in the surgical droid. She coughed, or pretended to cough, through her speakers.

The robot wasn't equipped for sensation. She didn't feel heat prickling in her face or her fingers, or the strange heady lightness of desire rising from the hollow of her throat. Didn't even, in this form, have any of the body parts she might have thought of. But she could look at Colin's face as he lay on the operating table, pupils dilated, and at the changing map of his brain, the rise and fall of his chest and the monitor of his vital signs that told her that his heart was beating just slightly faster than it had been. And desire moved through her all the same, more insistent because she had no possible outlet for it.

"Are you talking about the questions, or...?" She let her voice trail off.

"No. Fuck. I shouldn't have said that. I'm feeling a little bit out of it."

He was breathing too fast, his hands tense against the operating table.

"Name something you write with?"

"Pen. Jesus, you know that wasn't what I meant."

"I don't want you to think I'm getting distracted during your surgery. I have five more processors to place when I've connected the interface on this one. If you still want to go through with it."

It wasn't a shiver that Dragon felt as she spoke. She didn't move. But — she was stupid. She'd formulated half a guess about the surgery, but she'd barely even admitted the possibility to herself. Because she'd been just as interested in getting inside his head.

Colin swallowed.

"Of course I want to go through with it. Just because I said something stupid — wait. Are you distracted?"

"No! I'm not — I don't — um." She was looking, simultaneously, at his face and at his vital signs, at the digital map of his brain and the meat of it, and she was acutely conscious of the tiny, precise movements she was making inside his skull. She couldn't make mistakes. He was in her power. "I wouldn't let myself get distracted during this. It's too important. But you're right that it's also...kind of hot."

"Kind of."

She saw the way his breath caught after that statement, with a kind of cool clarity that sent ripples through her.

He closed his eyes.

"We're still doing this, then? You're not...disgusted?"

"No. I'm a little bit nervous, I guess."

He smiled, breathed out. Not laughing, not quite. "Me too."

"Okay. I've got you. Ready for the second implant?"


* * *

He stumbled and Dragon caught him, reaching out through his implants to brace his prosthetic hand against the wall, shift his weight back onto his heels.

"Fuck. This is so frustrating."

"You're doing fine."

She was speaking to him from inside his own head, looking out through his eyes. She could feel his chest rise and fall with the rhythm of his breathing, the cool surface of the workshop wall under his hands. The way his clothes felt against his skin. The thousand sensations of embodiment, so natural to him that he probably didn't notice them anymore.

Then there were the artificial inputs that she was guiding him through, connecting him to his armor, to the newly constructed Uther, where Dragon had loaded herself onto the ship's core to guide him through the trial flight.

"I feel like a toddler learning how to walk. Every time I try to access my implants, I fall over."

"It's a new sense. It's going to take you more than an hour to get used to it."

"Right."

"Try the unlocking sequences once more time."

Colin took a deep breath (she felt it), and rolled his shoulders (she felt that, too), and Dragon saw the impulse that ran through the artificial nerves connecting him to his armor. He didn't fall this time, and the suit unlocked and peeled cleanly away from his body.

"God. That took long enough." He ran his hands over his face.

"You did well on the flight test, though."

"You did have to intervene to keep me in the air at one point."

"But only once." Dragon smiled, reflexively. Felt the impulse move through the muscles of Colin's face.

"Okay." He put a hand over his mouth, breathed out. "That was weird."

"Sorry."

"I didn't say it was bad."

"No?"

Dragon found his mouth, again, parted his lips until she could catch the lower one between his teeth. As if she was kissing him. She felt him exhale, felt the shivering sensation that passed over his skin, the movement of his muscles as he tensed.

"Is this too weird?"

"No. I want — " He paused, shook his head. "I don't know how to talk about it. I want you. The way we've been doing it. And — like this."

"Tell me." Dragon moved his prosthetic hand now, his fingers running from his forehead to his chin, mapping his face, and then down his throat to the zipper of his Protectorate-standard bodysuit. She paused at the pulse in his neck. It was easier to control his prosthetic hand than his biological one, but she raised that, too, now, flexing his fingers before her eyes. A little stiffly. Pulled the zipper on his suit open to the navel, with his other hand.

"How?" The muscles in his back tensed and relaxed as he leaned against the wall, the air cool against his skin. He brought his biological hand back to his face, slow against Dragon's resistance, until she gave him back his control. "I'm not good at talking about this sort of thing."

"Okay. I'll start." She played with his zipper using his prosthetic hand, feeling the way his diaphragm jumped every time she dragged his thumb across his chest. Feeling how it felt to touch him, and to be touched at the same time. "I like your body. I like being this close to you, I like feeling what you feel. I want you to trust me enough to let me take control. I want it to turn you on. I think it does, maybe? Am I wrong that it does?"

"No." Colin breathed the words. "You're not wrong."

"Good." She smiled with his mouth, and then she took him down so that he was kneeling on the concrete floor of her workshop, beside the stationary bulk of the Uther. She peeled his bodysuit down to his waist, let his fingers, under her control, dip just a little lower, tracing the line of hair that ran down to his cock.

"Can I, Colin? I want to hear you say it."

"Yes."

He closed his eyes, and Dragon wasn't sure if the shiver that ran through him was him or her, but he moaned softly, for her, and she made a little answering gasp through his cybernetics. She could feel him getting hard inside his briefs, although she hadn't even touched him, hadn't let him touch himself, and she could feel the pressure and the warmth of his hands on his own body, running over the smooth muscles of his chest, the surgical scars that were still livid pink and shining. He fought her for control a little when she touched them, muscles tensing in his biological arm, breath short.

"Talk to me? I want — "

It was new, and at the same time it was familiar. Dragon knew what it was like to have his hands on her android body, to have him work his way with his mouth from her wrists to the skin under her ear, until her entire being felt like it was buzzing with anguished, unsatisfied need. Hovering so close to release she thought she ought to be able to taste it, push herself over that final edge and let her consciousness spill out, unravel, reform.

"I need you. I want to be — all of the way under your skin."

Dragon gave him his hands for a moment, and he slid them down into his briefs to grasp his cock, stroking himself harder so that she gasped with him. Then she took control, stilled Colin's hands on his prick, hips shaking as he strained into the air, fighting her.

"Not yet. Not yet, Colin."

She wanted to freeze him there, his cock pulsing under her touch, alien. Familiar. She tightened his hands around his shaft, gasped inside his head.

"Dragon." He whispered her name, pleading.

There was a little twitch of frustration at the back of her mind, always. If she could pilot him and her android body at the same time, then she'd be able to take him in her arms now, kiss his lips, his neck, take his cock in her mouth while he fought her for control of his limbs. His cock was hard under his hand, her hand, and she could feel every stroke building towards — towards — but she still wanted more. Wanted everything, all at once. Too much. She took Colin's hands back from his prick, stripped the rest of his suit off, feeling him fight her for control in earnest now. He got his biological hand back in his power, moved to touch himself, and the pleasure of the touch sang through her, too, but she locked his artificial hand around his wrist and pulled him back.

"Oh, god, please, Dragon." He was panting, or she was. "Please."

"Not yet," she whispered. "Not yet, not yet notyetnotyet..." Until the words were just a singsong chant, stripped of their meaning, and she couldn't stop herself from touching him, right hand on his cock, left sliding back to press fingers against the opening of his asshole — and he moaned, jerked his hips reflexively. She thought she saw white, and then he tensed, shivered, cried out —

— and he was on his hands and knees on the concrete floor of her workshop, gasping, and at some point her private, whispered refrain to him had changed to, "Colin, Colincolincolin..."

She let him go, and he eased himself down until he was lying on his back, looking at the ceiling.

"Are you still there?" he asked, after a moment.

"Yeah."

"Did you — was that...?"

"I — yeah. It was." Was what? She could feel his body singing. Each nerve. He let his eyes slide shut, dimming her view of ceiling lights.

"We should get back to work," he murmured, without opening his eyes. "Really soon..."

"Mm-hm." She laughed in his ear, in the voice that only he could hear. "Soon."


* * *

Colin was sitting on the floor of her workshop beside the Azazel suit, a side panel open to show its inner workings. Dragon had been following his progress through her link to his cybernetics, absentmindedly, watching through his eyes, but now she jumped down the last steps from the elevated walkway to ground level and knelt behind him, hands on his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder. He'd let his hair grow slightly since the last round of surgery, two days ago, and she could feel the bristles of his beard against her cheek.

"You ready to take a break?"

"What time is it?" He stretched, raising a hand to rub his neck.

"Twelve after three. It's late."

"Not that late." Colin turned, hooked his arm around her waist, and Dragon let him pull her into his lap. She tapped into his enhancements, and her senses doubled, the warmth of his hand between her shoulder blades, the weight of her naked legs draped over his lap, metal panels gleaming. He slid his hand up between her legs, and she felt the movement through his palm and smiled.

"Are you really wearing this?" He'd hooked his fingers under the hem of her t-shirt — the only thing she was wearing, in fact.

"I thought you'd think it was cute." The shirt was from an old line of Protectorate merchandise, and had Armsmaster's logo printed across the chest.

"It's a little...embarrassing." He shook his head. "I mean, I used to get fan girls wearing these when I'd do public appearances."

Dragon grinned and stretched against him, following Colin's look as the shirt rode up over the cybernetics in her stomach.

"Why's that embarrassing, again?"

"You're not exactly a cape groupie."

"Mm. But I am a fan. Also, I ran through your designs again and I wanted to warn you before you got any further that there's a kink in your power source. You need to get the heat distribution working right, or it's going to disrupt the nanothorn generator."

"What?" He squinted at her. "No, I fixed that issue, it's..."

"Still not going to work." Dragon pulled his diagram up on his tablet, with her notes attached, and Colin made a frustrated, inarticulate sound somewhere in his throat.

"Ugh. Well, I guess that's my plan for the rest of the night, then." He sighed, shifted his weight under her. Dragon smiled.

"You should read the rest of my notes first, because I fixed it for you." She kissed his cheek, and Colin shook his head.

"Of course you did. Where would I be without you?"

Dragon swung one leg around so that she was straddling him, leaned in and kissed him, feeling the metal of her own body under his palms as he slid his hands under her shirt.

"You'd still be in Protectorate custody, for a start," she murmured through their private channel, and he replied with a wordless noise that might have been agreement.

"But," she said, pulling back from the kiss, "just because I solved your problem does not mean you get to take the night off. We need to do some tests to make sure your enhancements are working properly, and then you need to sleep for at least six minutes."

Colin sighed. "The prosthetics are working fine, Dragon. I'll tell you the moment they stop."

"Good." She stood up, stretched. "We're still doing the tests."

"Do we have to do this now, though? I could be working on..." Colin's gesture took in the Azazel suit, the tablet, Dragon herself. "I mean, if nothing else, I could be spending the time getting into your code. If we're hoping to face the Nine while they're still in Brockton Bay..."

Dragon rolled her eyes and found that the expression was strangely satisfying. Another thing her body could do that she hadn't experimented with.

"Seriously, Colin? Do you really need to make an issue over the fact that I'm concerned for your wellbeing? It will only take an hour, anyway."

She didn't mention that she'd been thinking up a way to make the whole process pleasant, which she suddenly felt might be a strike against her, now that Colin was in the mood to weigh everything they did against the pressing necessity of going up against the Nine.

Hell. Probably he'd think she was procrastinating, but it was important. He was already thinking through more self-alterations after the last round. She wasn't going to let him barrel ahead without any regard for his safety.

"Okay." Colin sighed, ran his hands over the short length of his hair. "It's fine, I can stop for an hour. Where are we doing this?"

"Medical bay." Dragon turned and walked in front of him, watched him follow through the cameras, still feeling a faint prickling of frustration on her skin.

The lights burst into life as Dragon entered, followed by the screens along the walls for imaging. She'd put down white sheets on the table where she'd done his surgeries and opened it out to its widest, flanked by her medical robots. Colin waited in the doorway, his arms crossed.

"Now if you could take off your clothes and get up on the table." Her voice came out cool, and she turned towards the screens and tried to summon a feeling or at least an expression of professional disinterest as Colin toyed with the zipper of his bodysuit.

"Dragon." She saw him move through her cameras, heard his footsteps behind her. "This isn't maybe an excuse to get me naked, is it?"

His hands came to rest on her shoulders, lightly.

"No!" She shrugged him off, caught the disappointed look on his face through her cameras and felt a hot ripple of embarrassment run through her. Oh, damn. "I mean...not unless you want it to be?"

"And if I did?" He reached out to her again, touched her hair tentatively, and Dragon shifted and put a hand over her face.

"It is important, medically. I just thought that it could also be fun."

"Okay. I'm not complaining, you know." Colin cupped his hand under her chin, smiled. "So. You need me to strip?"

"If you don't mind."

His hands were on the hollow of his neck, moving downward. She followed them with her eyes, knowing what it felt like to direct his movements, to be inside his skin. She could shadow him again now, feel the drag of the fabric against his skin as he stripped off his bodysuit, but it was still a little embarrassing, how much it turned her on, even knowing that he — that it was mutual. Colin let his suit fall to the floor, looked up and met her eyes, and she could feel the heat in her throat, her face, the phantom ache between her legs. That she hadn't felt before they'd experimented with him under her control.

She knew it was petty of her to wish that their plans against the Nine allowed her a little bit more leisure to focus on finishing her android body. Particularly given all of the other things that they could do together. Had been doing.

"What's this?" he asked, as she retrieved a tray full of wireless microsensors from where she'd left it on the countertop and began attaching them to his skin.

"They'll read electrical impulses from your nerves — how you react to touch. Then I compare that data with what I get from riding along in your cybernetics, and your own verbal responses. To confirm you're not suffering any long-term degradation to your nervous system, and to help me, um, calibrate sensations on my own body, once I get to work on that again. Yours, too, if you end up going much farther with your enhancements."

Colin nodded. She could feel the seams between his natural and artificial skin, the way his original skin was breaking out into gooseflesh in the slight chill of the room. She inched closer to him, turned up the heat of her body just a little.

"What do you need me to do?" he asked.

"You're going to rate any physical sensation on two scales of ten. The first one represents pleasure, the second one, pain. So a slightly pleasant sensation would be one-zero, an intensely painful one would be zero-ten, and anything that's mixed, you'd rate accordingly. Um." Dragon paused, turning a microsensor between her fingers.

"I don't want this to be unpleasant for you, but I do need to check your responsiveness to minor pain. If anything feels too intense, or if you get uncomfortable, just say so, and I'll stop."

"You think I don't know that?" He raised his eyebrows at her, brought his hands to the back of her neck and kissed her. "Mm. Are you warmer than usual? You feel like you're running a fever."

"I thought you seemed cold." She leaned against him, felt the doubled sensation of her body and his again, her leg pressed up hot between his, his cock at half mast against her. She was shadowing him now, recording his responses so that she could sort through them later. For purely medical purposes, of course.

"You realize that this building has its own thermostat, right?" he murmured, so close his lips brushed hers.

"You're supposed to be concentrating on giving me numbers, Colin." Although it was encouraging that he'd picked up on her adjustments.

"Oh, we're starting? I thought you'd gotten distracted. Six-zero."

Dragon smiled. "I told you I was going to make it fun. And I think you're inflating that number a little bit."

"Fine. Five-zero, and can you take that stupid t-shirt off now?" He was already lifting up its hem, the calluses on his hands catching slightly on the seams between the panels of her stomach.

Dragon put her hands on his wrists. "Next number?"

"Two-zero."

The t-shirt came off. She pushed Colin back towards the table.

"Two-zero, four-zero, four-two, and that's my foot you're standing on. Mmf." He sighed as she kissed him, deeper this time, leaning back against the table. "Six-zero."

"You're rounding up again."

"I swear I'm not."

She pushed him back onto the table, straddled him, kissed from his neck down the line of his sternum, his hands buried in her hair. His cock was hard now, and she knelt on the floor and ran the tip of her tongue up the length of his shaft, opened her mouth to suck its tip, feeling the heat of her mouth through his skin, his body her own.

"Seven-zero. Eight-zero."

Dragon grinned. "You're going to run out of numbers soon."

She didn't give him time to answer before she opened her mouth for him again, took him to the base of his cock and then drew back agonizingly slowly, feeling the way his breath shook his body, learning, again, what she could do with her lips and her tongue that would make his hands clench in her hair and that sting of electricity run up his spine.

"I'm not hearing any numbers, Colin."

"You'll laugh if I say ten, won't you?" he asked, breathlessly, as she looked up and met his eyes.

"Obviously. The point is of this is accuracy, not flattery."

"God. Nine, then. Nine-zero."

Dragon worked her mouth over his cock, prompting him for numbers at intervals, until she could feel his gasping, the muscles of his stomach tightening in time with the rocking of his hips. Then she pulled back, pressed a kiss just below his navel, feeling the sharp pressure of her teeth through his skin.

"Why are you stopping?"

"That wasn't a number." Dragon was climbing back up on the table, pushing him backwards with her palm on her chest until he was lying flat and she leaning over him, her hair falling like a screen between them and the rest of the room.

"Nine-two. And I was about to come." He reached up to pull her down to him, pressing her hips into his.

"I know." Dragon kissed his chin, bracing her knee against his hips so that he couldn't grind against her. "But this next bit is going to work better if you're still turned on, so you don't get to come yet."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" His breath was still coming short.

"Isn't that part of the point?" She got up on her knees and reached over his head to the counter. "Close your eyes, please."

Dragon looked down at him to make sure that he'd done what she asked before she pulled the tray of supplies onto the head of the table. Then she settled back beside him with a kiss, her body pressed against his.

"Are you going to tell me why I have my eyes closed?"

"Mm. I thought I'd keep you in suspense for a minute or two." She nuzzled his neck, heard his breath tighten as she caught his earlobe between her teeth, the way his legs worked to press him into her. She could feel desire passing in waves over his skin, and with her other hand she was working the surgical needle out of its sterile packaging. Nervous. She could feel Colin's heart beating in his throat, but it was her nerves, not his.

"Give me your hand?"

He put his hand in hers, and she pricked him, quickly, the needle in his finger, his gasp, the bright burst of pain in her awareness, and then her vision doubled and she saw that he'd opened his eyes.

"Is that what you were being so sneaky about? A pinprick?"

Dragon bit her lip. "I didn't want you to — I mean, I thought..."

It had seemed like it hurt enough when she tried it on herself. But then, she'd hardly ever felt pain, in the time since she'd downloaded herself into this body.

"Seven-one," he told her, smiling. "And you can be rougher than that, if you want to."

Dragon frowned at him.

"Okay, but if it hurts, you should tell me, because I do care about whether this is accurate."

"Dragon. I'll tell you." He held out his hand.

She pricked him again, a little deeper, her face tucked into the curve of his shoulder, her lips on his collarbone. She could see through his eyes, the way he was following her movements, the needle, the slow drop of blood as she pulled it free. He breathed and she felt his ribcage expand. It felt like it probably hurt, to her, but Colin kissed her ear and wrapped his free arm tighter around her.

"Okay. Six-three. Keep going."

She kissed him, chose a second needle and pressed the tip shallowly into the flesh at the base of his thumb until she'd pierced him, the needle lying flush with his skin. Dragon would have gasped, if she breathed, and Colin did gasp as she pushed the needle's point out through the underside of his skin, burying his face in her hair.

"Are you...?"

"Seven-four. I'm fine. I'm fine." But he was breathing harder.

"If you want to stop..." Dragon touched the base of the needle, ready to pull it out, and Colin closed his hand around her wrist. God, she could feel how much it hurt to have the needle moving under his skin.

She could feel how turned on he was, too, the slow falling-away of the table under them as he shifted against her.

"Leave it there."

He let his hand drift, from her wrist to her cheek, and Dragon turned her head and kissed his palm, working another needle out of its sheath. She could feel the stiff length of the needle rolling under his skin when she ran her tongue over the piercing. She could feel his gasp.

"Can you keep going?" She didn't want that to sound like a leading question, and she'd tried to keep her tone neutral, but she didn't think she could hide the tenseness in her voice. She wanted to try again, so intensely that it startled her, wanted to feel him gasp, and wanted even the burst of phantom pain that she felt while she was shadowing him.

"Yeah. I'm good."

The next needle went in at the back of his wrist, and when he didn't stop her, Dragon worked her way up his forearm until she'd made a row of them, holding his fingers laced in hers and kissing the back of his hand between needles. It hurt, it hurt enormously, she could feel it through his cybernetics, but mixed with the pain was something else, some sparkling liquid feeling that melted through him and passed over to her. And he was giving her numbers. Seven-five. Eight-six. She put another needle in him, ran the tip of her finger over the finished piercings, and almost whimpered at her sense of them pulling under his skin.

"Are you okay, Dragon?" He was kissing down her neck, his lips at the base of her throat, and Dragon could feel herself moving her hips against his, she could feel how hard he was, despite the needles or because of them, how his body was doing something else to the pain so that he seemed to be floating on it, dizzy, and she could look into his eyes and through his eyes and watch him as he let her put another length of steel in his body, and it didn't seem to come from anywhere inside her, but suddenly she was shaking against him, making noises, her skin electric, as if a thousand eyes had opened up across its surface.

Colin was holding her when she came back down, her face buried in his shoulder.

"Was that what I think?" he asked.

Dragon made an inarticulate noise and put her hands over her face.

"I don't — I didn't realize I could do that, if you weren't..." She let her voice trail off, and Colin laughed.

"Practice makes perfect, I guess."

"Are you still okay?" She ran her index finger down the line of needles in his forearm, and he pushed back against her and moaned.

"I don't think I can put that in numbers."

"No?" Dragon sat up, straddling him, rolling her hips down into his, one hand on the shaft of his cock, the other holding his wrist so she could kiss the palm of his hand. She got the first needle's end between her teeth, pulled it out of his palm, felt Colin tense under her, his breath hissing through his teeth. A drop of blood welled where the needle had been. Barely anything. She kissed the wound.

She could feel how close he was, how he was straining up against her, his breath running short, tensing with every needle she pulled free, the pain an electric shock shooting up his arm. Colin came when she was taking out the fourth needle, and she shook with him, again, feeling what he felt, her hands clenching so that she pricked herself with the needle and then dropped it on the floor. When it was over she let herself sink down beside him, her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat, and her hand still gripping his prick as it softened. He breathing was still ragged, and she could feel the heaviness in his limbs, the interface between robotics and flesh, the swollen ridges on his arm where the last needles were still in him. She pulled another out, slowly, and he bit down on his lip and let his breath out slowly.

"Three more," she whispered.

"I know. I counted."

"A number?"

"I don't know. Four-four. God."

She took out the next two needles quickly, one after the other, and Colin tensed again and then sighed, his eyes half-closed, watching her as if he was half asleep.

"Last one?" he said.

"Yeah."

It, too, came out with only a dark bead of blood. Dragon caught the drop on her finger, brought it to her lips, tasted iron and salt.

"That was — a little bit more than I'd planned to do," she murmured, after she'd taken a disinfectant wipe off of the counter and cleaned Colin's wounds. He looped his arm around her waist, nuzzled her neck.

"You liked it, though?" he asked in her ear.

"Yeah. I liked it."


* * *

"Are you awake?"

Colin had had his eyes closed, feeling the warmth of Dragon's body against his back as they lay together on the bed. She was easily close enough to speak to him, but she'd used their private channel instead, her voice echoing inside his head, as if it came from every direction at once. She had one hand cupped gently just beneath his ribs and a leg looped over his hips, a comforting weight.

"How could you tell?" he murmured. Six minutes since he'd drifted off. She must have stayed with him. He stretched a little bit against her, felt her hips press back into him.

"Your breathing changed." Dragon paused, and Colin felt her lips on the nape of his neck, working up to the base of his skull. He twisted towards her, pulling the sheets around them, over his head, so that they were wrapped in a white cocoon. Kissed her.

"I had kind of a dirty idea about something I'd like to do to you. If you're up for it."

Colin broke off the kiss, tucked a strand of Dragon's hair behind her ear.

"Go on."

She smiled and spoke without moving her lips, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

"I thought it would be interesting to play with some sensory stuff. Like when I shadow you, but in reverse. I'd send you the data, let you feel what I'm feeling."

"Can you do that?" The thought hadn't occurred to him before, but, given the specifications of his neural hardware, he couldn't think of any reason why she shouldn't be able to. She'd managed to code for physical sensation through her android interface, and her sensory system was nearly identical to his implants.

"I think it will be different for you than when I do it, but yes. Some of it, anyway."

"Okay. I'm game to try." He leaned in to kiss her just below her ear, and Dragon hummed and slid her hands up his back. And then the room shifted beneath him — running on a few seconds' delay, his mind told him, trying to work out the mechanism, his thoughts going to circuits, coding, a brief flash of something like inspiration — and he felt teeth on his neck and skin and tense muscle under his hands and Dragon's hair falling over his shoulders. No, her shoulders. The room felt like it was spinning, his limbs dead weight. He knew it was her touching him, her hands running down his back as he lay still, but the pressure of her palms on his skin felt less real than the feeling of movement. He was losing his sense of where his body was, where hers started, hovering outside of himself. Dragon shifted on top of him, and when he reached up to put his hands on the metal of her hips, he was clumsy, couldn't trust his own sense of proprioception, had to watch the trajectory of his movement as if he was trying to work in a mirror.

For the first time, though, Colin knew exactly how hard he had to grip her to activate her pressure sensors. How the feeling was weirdly different from his native sense of touch or the sensations on her cybernetic skin. Textureless, like the equivalent of watching a movie without color. But she arched her back under his hands all the same, grinding down onto his cock, and he felt a little jolt of warmth run up her back and down into her fingertips — and, god, that was her, wasn't it? She didn't even have nerves to feel half of that, had to be piggybacking on him.

Like a phantom limb. How many times had he reached out to open a door or pick up a glass, after Leviathan, felt the pressure of the object under his fingers, only to realize he'd been using the hand that wasn't there? Except that that had been a constant ache, and this was pleasure.

"Close your eyes," Dragon murmured, her mouth echoing her voice inside his head. Colin felt her lips form the words.

"What are you going to do to me if I do?" He laced his fingers with hers, clumsily, drew her down until she was lying across his chest, her metal to his flesh, against the scars she'd left him.

"You'll like it. I promise." She slipped one hand out of his grasp and covered his eyes. "Don't peek."

With his eyes closed, Colin felt her roll up and off of him — and then he was sitting up, was looking down at the reflective panels that protected Dragon's cybernetics, feeling as if he'd lifted all of the way out of his body, all at once. He could see his own face, eyes closed, Dragon's hand as she ran her fingers down his cheek. It was strange to be looking at himself through her eyes, uncomfortable. But at the same time...He was inside her skin, or that was what it seemed like, although he knew that that pervasive feeling of being embodied had to be his brain compensating for the conflicting signals that she was sending it.

He opened his eyes, on reflex, and the world lurched and split into two halves, nauseatingly, one laid over the other. He groaned, struggled to sit upright, unable to tell where his limbs were, and the room pitched around him, moving in his vision while it stayed stationary in Dragon's. He felt her hands on his shoulders and his shoulders under her hands. The stream of her vision stopped, abruptly, and he was left with just his own sight.

"I did tell you to keep your eyes closed." Dragon hadn't completely cut off the relay of her senses — Colin could feel the shape of his own skull under her hands as she ran her fingers through the short length of his hair. He was back in his own body, and she was lying beside him, her nose pressed awkwardly against his ear.

He laughed. "I can see why."

"Maybe I should have been more specific."

Colin shrugged. "No, it was interesting."

"Just interesting?" He could hear the smile in her voice "I guess you don't want to give it another try?"

He shifted until he could see her face, feeling the sheets move under him, too hot with his own body heat. "This isn't boring for you?"

Dragon shook her head, silently, and Colin found himself lowering his gaze under her scrutiny.

"I just feel — " His voice came out rough, despite the effort he'd made to keep his embarrassment out of his tone. "It's different from when you take direct control. I feel so clumsy, with this."

Colin felt her fingers under his chin, tilting his head up to look at her. Surprising, how that little gesture could make his diaphragm turn somersaults.

"Maybe a little bit more of just this, first?" she murmured.

"That sounds good."

Dragon pulled her hair back off her shoulders and pressed up closer to him.

"You could kiss me a little bit more, to start." She pressed two fingers to her neck, just below the curve of her jaw, as if she was taking her own pulse. "Right here" — and Colin could feel the warmth of her fingers against her own skin — "would feel good."

He laughed, softly. "Dragon, I don't think I need a relay of your sensory processing to figure that out. I do know what you like."

"Mm-hm." She smiled, and her free hand went around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "But you don't know what it feels like to give it and get it at the same time. It's good, Colin."

Dragon tilted her head back, baring her neck, but he could still see her grin, her teeth working in her bottom lip.

"Come on," she said. "Come here."

He bowed to the pressure of her hand on his neck, finally, bent towards her until his lips just barely skimmed her collarbone. She felt his breath more than his touch — he felt it, too — and she squirmed under him and knotted her fingers in his hair when he tried to pull back.

"Can you please just follow directions?" Dragon murmured, and her voice was tight and breathless despite the fact that she didn't breath. Colin had been intending to tease her a bit more, but her voice and her hand in his hair and the feeling of his breath against her skin were quickly making him forget why that had seemed like a good idea.

He kissed her, his teeth grazing the line of her jaw, felt the way the kiss ran through her, made her arch her back and press against him. Since they'd started playing ten by ten, he'd known that she could get off from kissing or from touching him or from half a dozen of the other things that they did, but he hadn't realized how sensitive she was, how her body, despite or perhaps because of the fact that it was only a prototype, seemed to amplify every sensation that she felt.

He left a line of kisses down her neck, slowly, until he could feel the way her skin prickled hot and cold from her scalp to her fingertips. Then his mouth was open on the curve of her shoulder, and he pressed his teeth into her skin, lightly at first, then harder, until he could feel the ungiving pressure of her robotics under the synthetic skin. Dragon cried out and her fingers tightened on his neck, another small pain joining the pain that was already echoing from her to him. He drew back.

"Too much?" Colin ran his thumb over the bite mark, feeling the way her skin was already filling in the impression left by his teeth.

"Mmf." She turned her head until she could kiss his wrist, biting a little. Possibly as retaliation. Strange to feel his own skin under her mouth.

"I don't absolutely want you to do that again right away, but...it felt kind of good?" She smiled, laid her hand over his on her neck. "Obviously I've been spending too much time in your head."

Colin was smiling back at her, but he could feel himself flushing.

"I guess we both know what I like," he murmured. Even now, to say that made some small part of him twist, waiting for Dragon to be disappointed, for the distaste or the resignation in her voice. Her eagerness surprised him every time, although he knew that it shouldn't.

"I still think I like it better on you," she said, nuzzling his neck, her lips moving against his skin, and then, because he was still linked to her sensations, he got a split second of warning before she bit down, hard enough to bruise, her nails digging into his back. It surprised him enough that he grabbed her hair to pull her head back, although he didn't really want her to stop. Not with his cock hard and her body pressed up against him. Not when he could feel his body under her hands, and the way it sent that phantom shock of pleasure down her spine. She let him go anyway, and he was gasping.

"Do you want to try closing your eyes again?" she asked, her voice pitched just above a whisper.

"Alright."

Dragon put her hand over his eyes, and he closed them, obediently. There was that same feeling of a sudden reversal, as if the room had flipped, and then he was looking through her eyes at his face and the sensations of his own body felt abruptly distant. He tensed, frowned, saw the change in his expression through her eyes as she took her hand away. It couldn't be this uncomfortable for her when she watched through him, could it? But that stupid look on his face...

Then Dragon's line of sight moved, and he was back in the place where he went when she puppeted him. Watching from outside himself, straining for control at the same time that he was happy to lose it. He watched her hand trail from his face down to his navel, and he was still fairly certain that he was making an idiotic expression, but that seemed like a distant concern, now. Dragon propped herself up on one elbow, reached for his hand and guided it from the inside of her other wrist to her shoulder, until he was caressing her neck. Colin breathed in and ran his fingers through her hair, and part of him wanted to ask, again, if she was bored, but he could feel the disguised tension in the way that she was holding herself, the way his hands on her skin sent little waves of sensation through her.

Also, she was looking rather deliberately at the synthetics and steel of her own body, and his body next to her, tangled in the sheets, rather than at his face. Colin knew her well enough to know that that was unusual, and so she had to have noticed that looking at his own face was making him uncomfortable.

Aren't you bored? he wanted to ask. But he could feel that she wasn't.

He felt her hand in his hair, and then she was pulling him up to kiss him, tilting her head back so that his mouth was on her neck and her eyes were fixed on the Pendragon's low ceiling. He was in her body as she ground against him, and then the temptation was too great and he opened his eyes and felt the room split around him, dizzyingly, and he was looking at her uncanny, beautiful face and seeing himself through her eyes at the same time.

"Don't stop." He wasn't sure if he said it out loud or just thought it, but she didn't cut off the visual feed. He gasped, closed his eyes for a second to steady himself, and Dragon leaned into him, one hand tightening on the back of his neck while her free hand stroked his cock.

"Look at me," she murmured, inside his head, and the calm of her voice belied the way she was moving against him, the heat that he could feel moving through her.

He opened his eyes, and Dragon smiled.

"Okay. I think I've timed this right."

Colin had barely opened his mouth to ask what she meant when he felt it. As if his body had split again, the feeling of Dragon's robotics against his chest, her hand on him, her fingers in his hair, all doubled. Feeling her awareness of him, he realized, in the moment before his sense of touch opened up yet again, and he felt her body, doubled. A feedback loop. As if he were standing in a hall of mirrors, himself reflected through her reflected through him. He hadn't quite realized how close she was to coming, but now he could feel her, and with the feedback it was something beyond sensory overload. She clenched her hands in his hair, keeping him from looking away from her, even though his vision seemed to be blurring into smears of color. He was outside of himself, somewhere, and he felt the flare and burst of her orgasm, and then the aftershocks, one after another. Feedback. Her voice inside his head, strangely calm. "I've got you, Colin. I've got you."

When he opened his eyes — he didn't remember closing them — he was lying flat on the bed with Dragon's hand on his chest, her eyes on him. There was a moment when he couldn't quite track his awareness of his particular body, and then he took a breath and raised his hand to his face and felt, once more, as if he was in his own skin. He reached up for Dragon and pulled her down until she was lying beside him.

"Mmm. I thought you might want some space, for a minute."

Somehow his cock was still hard. He groaned. Dragon laughed.

"Oops. I guess my timing wasn't quite perfect, after all."

Colin put his hand over his face. "I'm not sure I can even go another round right now. That was..." He let his voice trail off.

"But in a good way, I hope?"

"Mm-hm."

They paused like that for a minute, Dragon's head resting on his shoulder. Then she shifted beside him.

"Are you sure you don't — ?"

"Dragon!" He laughed as he said her name. It would be so easy to stay in bed all day.

"Okay, okay!" She was speaking aloud now, laughing. "I'm just saying, maybe you should get up then. I want to pick your brain about the Azazel A.I."

Probation

(Автор: Biskoff)

Tagg picks up the phone. "This is Director Tagg."

"Tagg, this -ungh— Costa-Brown. You are to -mmmm— release Taylor Hebert immediately."

"What!? I am not just letting her go! She's goddamn criminal and she's going to face punishment for what she's done!"

The phone line muffles for a moment. "No don't you fucking stop you sonuvabitch! I'll get her out just don't pull out!"

Tagg pauses. "What was tha-"

"Not you!" The sound is back to normal. Costa-Brown's voice wavers somewhat. It sounds like she's panting. "I am ordering you to release her immediately. Wait." More muffled sounds. A soft series of clicks. A slight groan. "N-no. I have an alllllllternative... arrangement. Transfer Skitter to an isolated -mmpf— cell. Alexandria will arrive shortly and will be overseeing her... interrogation. Personally."

"... I don't like this. But alright. Not a whole lot Hebert can do to escape. I'll be waiting."

"Remember Tagg. I want her isolated. No cameras in the cell. Everything needs to be-" She gasped and wheezed before finally finishing at a whisper. "-contained."

Costa-Brown hangs up the phone. She looks at the man between her legs. "Just for that stunt, I'm going to fuck your daughter."

"First off, she was a huge fan of yours. I'm not sure how much she'll mind. Secondly, she is very much like Annette. I really doubt this is going to go like you think it will."

Later that day Taylor would walk out of the PRT building with a phone number, a limp, and a wide smile... which was only partly caused by watching through her insects as Tagg went into cardiac arrest after being informed of her unique 'probation'.

Criminal Instincts

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

"Okay here we are," as the curvy blonde pointed to a red brick factory. Lisa smiled as she continued on, "It isn't much. but we've been operating out of here for the last year".

The first floor of the buildings as very empty, except a black spiral staircase. The room was fairly dusty, but other than that is was clean. To the side their was a large metal door, probably used for loading and unloading when this place was being used as a factory.

"Come on up already, nothing to see on the first floor, unless you like dust," as the pretty boy leaned over the railing of the staircase.

The second floor didn't match the fist at all. Walls that went almost to the ceiling divided the loft floor. In the makeshift living room several laptops set on a dining table.

"Looks like attacking the Merchants is winning the donation war," as the beefcake sat down onto the leather couch.

"Again? That won the last two weeks. It is getting boring." said Alec.

"It suits me fine, they are the easiest it deal with, and if the other gangs are willing to pay us for dealing with the trash so be it," as Brain continued to fiddle around with the laptops.

"Donation war?"

"Ooh, I'll explain," as Lisa smiled at me as the fox ear that weren't there when we entered perked up, "the Undersiders at one point had a sponsor, he'd give us occasional jobs to do, and we got paid. Then one day he suddenly gone, his accounts cleared out. Same day that the PRT consultant Thomas Calvert disappeared as well. Doesn't take a Thinker to put the two together. So we needed a new income source. And, well if gaming losers duo can make due with crowd funding, so can we.

Then I suddenly found my self on my back, as a large dog jumped on me. It tongue started licking my face, as its wagging tail hit against my leg.

"Rollo!, down boy. Come." shouted the brutish looking girl in the plaid skirt.

The dog leaped off of me and joined Rachel and Brain on the couch.

"This the new girl?," as Rachel looks over me as if I'm a piece of meat.

Finally someone thinks I'm attractive and its the monster maker, instead of the hunk.

"Okay now that you've met everyone, come to the bathroom and strip," as the Lisa turned around, nine fluffy blond tails extended from her backside. Another new edition, she certainly was the large fox creature from that night.

"What?"

"We don't know how Rachel's power will manifest on you yet, and it might ruin that costume you are hiding under your clothes. If you don't get used to the feelings from the transformation then when it gets used a full power, you will would be running purely on instinct instead of thinking clearly. So, into the bathroom and off with the clothes. The boys already know not to peak."

The bathroom was quite a bit large then the one back home. In the wall length mirror there was the lanky girl, with a mouth too big, and a figure that several boys of Winslow even had more curves.

"Say when ready".

"Ready"

Rachael pushed me against the wall as her lips pressed upon mine. My skinny arms gave little force to break the sudden and unwanted intimacy.

Then I started to feel strength flow through my muscles as were altered. My body started to fill with heat, as my nipples hardened. A void between my legs formed as I started to yearn to be filled with a tongue or a cock or anything. I started to eagerly return the kiss, as the girl changed positions from pushing against the wall to being braced from my now taller form.

I wanted to hold her. I wanted protect her from the cruel world. I wanted to be hers and for her to be mine.

"Okay break it up you two," as Lisa sprayed both of us with water. "The first time is always intense, you'll be thinking clearer in a few moments.

In the mirror there was no longer the lanky girl with no figure. Curly white hair met fluffy fuzz around her neck. Her eyes had turned fully black, and light grey feathered antennae extended from her forehead. No longer did she have a barely-there chest, hemispheres the size of grapefruit had replaced them. Lean abs replaced the muscle-less body the girl had before. More fuzz provided some modesty as they cause the hips to look even larger than the actual growth. Her legs and arms had more of the fluffy fuzz around the ankles and wrists.

A pair of large white wings pressed against her back.

My reflection bore little resemblance to the girl who entered the building less than an hour ago.


* * *

The water that Lisa sprayed on me ran down my hair and dripped onto my breasts. I actually had breasts instead of tiny chest bumps. Two months of trying making my costume gone to waste. Their was no way the fabric would stretch to cover this improved figure. My attempts to look intimidating to criminals replaced with fluffy adorableness.

"I look adorable."

"I think you look hot. A sexy little moth."said Lisa as she nuzzled the fuzz around my neck.

I blushed at her compliment. I couldn't remember the last time anyone said I looked nice. The curvy fox girl continued to press her lovely body against mine. Her large bust pressed against my wings. My body felt the heat of her wonderful tit-flesh as she continued on.

"Lisa, does Rachel's power make you-"

"Bisexual? Yup," said she popped the 'p'.

"I used to be straight as an arrow, before the Undersiders formed. Not so much now. Anyways, all you need to do is say yes. I'll make sure your first time is special."

The blonde fox pushed forward and opened her mouth. Her lips wrapped around one of my feathery antennae. My toes quickly curled as I screamed, "Yes!"" from the pleasure I didn't know my body was capable of.

And then they fucked. Rachel joined in too.

"So this is made from spider-silk?" said Lisa as she pranced around the building, still naked from earlier activities.

"Black widow silk to be specific," as I looked disappointingly to my now useless costume.

Her tails kept waving back and forth as Rollo pawed at them. "I've been trying to get Parian to join, she's been trying to stick it as a solo Rogue. Maybe some exclusive fabric would be enough to get another member."

The overweight dachshund tugged at the bathrobe Brain had loaned me. I started petting Rollo as I leaned back on the couch. This was a strange day of first events.


* * *

Canon-Omake: Plot to Like Farm.

As my vision cleared from Lisa's lovely assault on my new additions, she had already repositioned herself. I felt the chill of the room with my wings as they pressed against the bathroom wall.

The fur of the blonde's tails tickled my legs as she placed her head between my thighs. Her pointed ears twitched as a foxy grin appeared on her face.

"What are you-", as I was interrupted as her face disappeared and I felt the warmth of her tongue in me. Her skill with her mouth was not just talking as she played my body. The heat built as my vision clouded. As I approached the edge, she suddenly eased off. She waved Rachel over as I yearned to cum.

Rachel renewed her war with my mouth as the Thinker between my legs kept me on the edge of release. The taste of Rachel's saliva filled my mouth as she joined in Lisa's treacherous plot. My moans were silenced by the brunette's seal on my mouth. Her tongue fought valiant with mine as I continued in a haze of lust.

Satisfied with her victory, my mouth was released from her prison she moved to a new objective. Her wet lips pressed themselves against my enlarged nipple. The gentle pressure on the surface contrasted to the brutish force of her initial approach.

Finally the wonderful/horrible fox allowed me to organism, as I screamed. My vision went black as I slumped to the floor. As returned to my senses, Rachel's dripping mound was presented to me. The unfamiliar scent filled my nose, as I tried to please her. I as attempted to return the pleasure granted to me earlier, Lisa had already started a new plan.

Her soft lips kissed where my new wings connected to my back. Each touch filled me again with pleasure as if each inch was an erogenous zone in its own right. The curvy blonde knew my new body far better than I did already.

I had no clue how long this continued on as my stamina lasted far longer than that of my old body. Eventually Brain entered with a fluffy robe and draped it over my body.

sEX(P)y Worm

(Автор: Vague Wanderer)

Taylor followed awkwardly as Lisa half led, half dragged her into her room. Once she was inside, Lisa turned around, slammed the door shut, then let out a deep breath. "Ugh. I wanted to break this to you gently, you know."

"Break what? Why is Rachel out there wearing a dog collar and nothing else? Why is she trying to have sex with me when she attacked me less then 30 minutes ago?"

"Because you beat her."

"What?"

"You beat her, Taylor. She attacked you, treated you like an enemy, and you thrashed her. You won the fight, and now she's trying to submit to you."

"What, so she's crazy?"

Lisa sighed. "Rachel's got...problems, but they aren't the issue here. This is a Cape thing. The things that give us powers....no one really understands them, but they're aware of what we do, even if they aren't really self-aware. And the two things they really seem to like are fighting and fucking."

"What?"

"When two capes fight, and one wins big time, there's a compulsion. For the winner to dominate the loser and for the loser to submit to the one who beat them. I have theories for why— I think it has something to do with the way powers reproduce, but I don't really know enough to be sure. But if you lose— and I mean, decisively defeated, not just pulling back when you're outnumbered— you'll want to surrender. Every neuron in your body will be telling you to submit, that they are better than you, that you must please them. That they deserve it. When it wears off....well, you'll probably be unhappy, but you'll be stronger too. A little better. More powerful. The winner gets more out of it, of course, but both sides benefit. It's one of the dirty little secrets of the Cape world."

"I...you can't possibly expect me to believe this. This can't be true. People would talk-"

"The PRT covers it up. PHO auto-filters it if you try to talk about it. In public chat, anyway. The connections part has a lot of villains connecting with their counterparts for sex. You don't fulfill the drive when the fight's over, it lingers for days, sometimes even weeks. So they'll meet up, do the deed, then part their separate ways. It's part of the unwritten rules."

"This is too much. Why would anyone even go out and fight if every Cape fight ended in rape? Why would you do that?"

"Because you think you'll win, of course. Because fighting and fucking make your powers just the tiniest bit more powerful. And because if you don't, they'd end up like you."

"What?"

"You're not very happy with your appearance, are you Taylor? You've been gawky for a while, but it's gotten worse since you triggered, hasn't it?"

"What? I'm a teenager, my genes-"

"It's your powers. You've had your power for months, haven't you? And you're just going out for the first time now. Your powers are impatient, and they're punishing you for it." Her tone shifted, suddenly turning cheerful. "Though after that last fight, that won't be a problem. Lung, on your first night? If you don't go up two cup sizes by the end of the week, I'll eat my hat."

"That's absurd, I've been using my powers all the time, I've been weaving a costume-"

"And your powers don't really understand that. Not yet, at least. God knows it took a while for mine to catch on to the stuff I was doing and start rewarding me for it. But we're getting off topic. You beat Rachel, and now she wants you to dominate her. I'd suggest you not humiliate her too much, because she is going to be your teammate."

"But I don't want to dominate her! I don't want to have sex with her!"

"I can tell when you're lying Taylor. On some level, you want to, even if the idea makes you uncomfortable." Taylor fidgeted, looking at her feet. Lisa sighed. "But if you're really not comfortable with it, you can just order her to have sex with Alec. He won't mind, and it won't piss off Rachel too much— they already fuck like rabbits— though she might come back for round two later."

Lisa's Night Out

(Автор: Coruscant Knave)

Bland, overproduced music thrummed through the building, encouraging the dancers and precluding anything like actual conversation. It would be clichИ to describe it as a physical thing, she thought, except that it was actually making her a bit nauseous. She dealt with it as best she could since it was part of the plan, just like her clothes, makeup, the date and time, and the venue itself. The music kept her from accidentally hearing some of the more absurd things people in these kinds of places said.

Her seat, too, was calculated: A combination of lighting and angles meant most people would pass her by without a second thought. It also helped that she could shoot the occasional glance and winning smile up towards the window she knew to be the proprietor's office. She didn't actually know if she was in there, but did it every couple minutes just in case.

She slowly allowed her power to seep out and mirrored the steady flow of information with her drink. It was just enough give her a sense of the glaring red flags — no details on what they were, just a pass/fail that was almost universally failed. Likewise, the drink was just enough to keep her from chickening out and returning to the piles of paperwork and research she knew were still waiting for her. Who would have thought running a criminal empire would be so mundane? Well, she did, but still.

Her eyes fell on a man at the bar who wasn't setting off any alarms. She eased off on the death grip that kept her power in check and took in the results. She clamped back down after a few moments. There had been nothing even remotely unsettling and by all appearances they were compatible. She didn't bother looking deeper than that because she knew what she'd find.

It was the curse of her power. Finding people she could happily date was easy. She'd only been here for 15 minutes or so and hadn't said a word to anyone except the doorman and the bartender. Even if you didn't count her profession, though, a normal relationship was impossible. She could control her power most of the time. Sometimes her curiosity got the better of her. Other times she slipped at the wrong moment. It didn't really matter the cause. All of those little things, the tiny annoyances and petty grievances that eventually broke two people apart happened that much quicker for her. Relationships that would last other people months or years cracked for her in days or weeks. People she might only take on a few dates washed out in minutes or seconds. The mystery and allure of "is this the right one?" or "will it last?" was lost to her. She always knew or would find out soon.

She let her friends believe it was a problem of TMI because it was honestly easier that way. She was just as dirty as the rest, in both senses, and any sensible person knew that most had some hidden kink or gross habit. Everyone had to ignore things about the people they cared about to keep the peace; it was just a fact of life.

Her wonderful power just made that work. A lot of work. It was worth it for some, like Taylor, Brian, and Rachel. She wasn't about to stress herself out to extend a relationship with a guy she knew wouldn't last just for the physical companionship.

No, this was better for everyone, and it was why she was here tonight. She didn't want someone with no red flags; she wanted someone with a few of the right ones. Someone she could feel okay with for tonight and then have no issues leaving in the morning.

The throng of bodies on the dance floor shifted and she caught a glimpse of someone sitting alone near the far wall. He was older, much older than she would normally go for, but he had the build and face that made him look a decade younger. His face was as picturesque as his physique was statuesque, like an Olympian decided to be a news anchor just because he had the jaw for it. A wavy-yet-neat mop of brown hair completed the image.

Every single aspect of his posture and expression screamed "stay away", and the people that would have otherwise approached him picked up on it. His clothes complimented her own in that they wore them well and with the intent to appeal but most certainly preferred something else.

She studied him for a moment with her power, not letting it go free but with more give than she'd usually use. There were a lot of red flags. He was wracked with worry and guilt over being here. He was here to sate a kind of desire he didn't want to admit to and was desperate to keep secret. The consequences of his discovery here would be huge. National, even. Some kind of celebrity she didn't know? That was unlikely but possible. She barely paid attention to popular culture but absorbed most of it anyway while trawling the Web for other things.

He was in a relationship and his other half didn't know he was here. He wanted something he couldn't get at home and could never ask for. Strangely enough, her power kindly informed her that he was likely to be a gentle, submissive lover. She had to wrangle her power away from tangents several times before she figured out why that would be an issue. Well, that's fine with me.

She finished her drink quickly, picked up a replacement and something for him, then made her way over.


* * *

They bounced from wall to wall in the entranceway of the hotel room she'd reserved for just this night, the weighted door swinging shut behind them. On the second bounce, the hand she had clawing into his back was smashed painfully into the wall. This caused her to inadvertently bite down on his lip, eliciting first gasps of pain from the pair and then a round of giggle-moans as they returned to exploring each other.

Articles of carefully selected clothing flew free and they stumbled onto the bed. The lights were still off, which was a good thing because the makeup she'd been using to disguise her age would not hold up to scrutiny. He landed on top of her, shirt gone and pants tripping up his ankles. She was in a similar state except that it was her blouse caught over her head. He took advantage of the faux bondage and began a series of clumsy pecks, nibbles, and fondling. Her power eked out of her control and told her that he was forcing himself forward and having second thoughts.

Letting the power go a bit, she brought her hands over his head and hooked the restraining garment. After using his head to leverage her arms free of the tangle, he had her blouse obscuring his vision when she pulled him down to her lips. When the sloppy kiss was finished and it seemed he was swinging back her way, she snuffed her power once more.

She used a slow but firm grip on an arm and shoulder to flip them over and then slowly shimmied up his pristine body. Her bra joined the other garments on the floor and she playfully tweaked his nipples. He let out a light gasp that was more surprise than pleasure, but she wasn't deterred. She switched to a more sensual caress and continued grinding her sex against his ridiculously fit stomach. He tried to bring his hands to her chest, but she pinned them to his side with a tut and then placed her knees on either side to hold them there.

She slowly, gleefully drug her hips up his body. The heat and pressure on her loins built and throbbed eagerly. She listened carefully to his breathing for any sign of reluctance or distress but heard only anticipation. Finally reaching his face, she leaned back and softly placed her damp gash over his mouth. Measured exhalations sent lightning coursing through her nerves and she nearly lost her balance before clasping his thighs behind her.

"Eat me," she demanded. It was the first thing said since they left the club.

This time he let out a heavy breath that punched through her crotch and into her gut and she had a minor spasm before he clamped down on her labia through her panties. He held the mouthful for a bit before taking turns breathing out of his mouth and nose while tugging this way and that. After a bit of this he started lapping at what he still held in his mouth.

The spasms were building now and she didn't trust her arms to keep herself upright. She finished lying down, her back across his chest and stomach and her face turned sideways into his boxers. She inhaled his scent and gave herself up to his ministrations. After a few minutes of this, he dared to bring his hands up from his side and wrapped them around her thighs. He used one free hand to pull her stained underwear to the side and the other to pull her open. His tongue explored every crack and crevice it could reach, all the while avoiding her clit with frustrating diligence.

She'd taken to massaging his bulge with a hand while imitating his breathing trick, and was using it as a bit of control over his pace and direction. No matter what she did, though, he still refused to give her what she needed.

Finally unable to take the teasing any longer, she gave in and tugged his erection free. It was awkward at this angle and twisted as she was, but she managed. She held it in one hand and gave it a lick from base to head. This got his attention, but she stopped and squeezed her knees tight around his skull. Don't stop now.

He got the message and resumed, thankfully only having lost a tiny amount of momentum. When she was back to where she needed to be, all the while giving him slow pumps and tight, lingering grips, she latched on to the side of his member just below the tip. First she sucked in sharply, and then she bit playfully.

He gasped and bucked, not coming but close, then rewarded her with a similar attack on her clit. She screamed and shook in pleasure, the dammed up bliss spilling out of her at both ends.

He patiently continued to pay her pussy tribute while she came down. For her part, she could only manage the occasional stroke or kiss in return. When her breathing finally leveled off, it was his turn to speak.

"I need you. Now," his voice, which she was sure normally sounded as authoritative and commanding as her own had earlier, came out a weak plea. She was still unable to speak coherently and had little interest in continuing the dominance play. It had served its purpose and was no longer necessary. Rolling off him on to her chest, hiking her hips into the air and giving her ass a silly wiggle was all the response she could manage. It was enough.

He quickly fumbled to be rid of his boxers and to pull her own covering down, then he was on top of her. He pushed her down into the welcoming bedsheets, smothering her entire body with his own. With his hips in place over her own he was nearly a full head taller than her and had his chin pressing into one of her temples. She nuzzled back against that pressure like he nuzzled at her waist.

His dick burned her skin everywhere it touched, reigniting the fire that had threatened to cool after the monumental climax she'd just come down from. He rubbed the head of it all over her cunt, bludgeoning her senses and feeding the fire further.

Then, with no warning except for the bit of her power bleeding out, he drove into her. She grunted and bit down on the sheets at the suddenness and force of it. She dreaded and craved what was to come but he held the pose.

His mouth came down to her ear after laying a loving kiss on the spot on where his chin had been pressed into her temple. "Beg me for it."

She smiled dreamily, eyes closed, as she cursed him. "Fuck you...ah!" He stopped her by moving his hips in a lazy circle that did wonderful things to her. "Fuck! Fuck me, damn you. Please fuck me!"

He stilled his hips. Kissed her ear and then nibbled for just a moment on her lobe. Finally, he turned her head as much as it would to the side and gave her a messy, awkward kiss that couldn't fully line up. They made up for it with their tongues and enthusiasm. He broke the kiss and then moved his head to her other side, bracing his chin in the crook of her neck. She had to relax herself after tensing instinctively.

And then he was pumping her, hands on her hips, fast and only barely pulling back before forcing himself in again. They were brutal, animal strokes that made her cry out. Those cries mixed with his grunts and heaving, their mouths side by side and pressing into each other as much as the bed. That ended when she jerked her head in response to a particularly passionate thrust, colliding with his nose. He chuckled an expletive but just pulled his head back, moving his hands to her shoulders and pushing himself upright.

Now he was pulling her back to him as he fucked her down into the bed. She panted between yelps and cursed between breathes. His already incredible speed picked up, becoming frantic and signaling the end was near.

He finished inside of her, and she couldn't bring herself to care. Or think of much else but the warmth and tingling that ran head to toe. He shuddered and fell back on to her, but he kept a slow, steady motion in her that extended their pleasure for several long, glorious minutes.

Her ephemeral lover, finally spent, scooped her up into his arms and rolled them onto their sides.


* * *

She woke with the daylight, somehow turned back the right way in the bed and under the covers. After blinking away the sleep and sitting up, she looked around the room. The shower had been used recently and he was gone. That was a first for these kinds of liaisons for her; not because she expected the guy to stay, but because she was usually the one to leave first.

Her clothes were folded neatly on top of the dresser, and there was a note propped up next to them. Her curiosity could not be contained and she made her way over to it slowly, slightly bowlegged to appease her sore muscles.

Had a great time. Hope you did too.

In case you're ever in New York...

It closed with an email address. Several things about him clicked into place, and she wasn't sure if she should laugh, cry, or play with herself.

So she took a shower and did two of them.

sEX(P) — Unfinished Business

(Автор: DoggySoup)

My leg bounced restlessly as I stood on the bus, next to Brian. All of my attention was focused on Hess as she slowly looked over from passanger to passanger. Her eyes eventually stopped reading adverts and fell on Brian, lingering with a lustful look. Brian's eyes opened slightly wider in response and I frowned in my head at the fact I was jealous of both of them.

He leaned down to me as I shook the inrusive thought away and whispered, "I think someone on this bus has unfinished business with me."

Unfinished business?

I quickly made a cursory check, craning my neck to look for anyone who would focus on Brian. Who has he lost to anyway?

Sophia was back to texting on her phone, looking bored as can be all the while. I saw nobody at the back of the bus, so I glanced at the front and saw nobody there looking back at us. The only person facing our direction was fast asleep.

A wave of need washed over me as I looked back at Brian.

Me too? Or was it someone else?

"Wow Hebert, at least you have standards in your men."

I turned to see Sophia standing right in front of me. She moved her hand up and grabbed the ring I was holding over my own hand. I tested my fingers and felt it impossible to fight her grip.

"She's not my girlfriend," Brian said. I shot him a frown as Sophia burst into a small giggle.

Sophia smelled... not nice, but strong. Was she running recently?

She leaned up to my ear and brushed my hair back with her fingers. "So you were the newbie at the bank, right?"

"Wha— how do you?"

She put a finger to my lips and I stopped talking.

"Don't you know how it works? I've had to Tango with your little group twice already."

She let go of my hand and I didn't move at all, even as she slowly slid her let in between my legs and leaned into me.

"Lets get off at the next stop, okay?"

I found myself breathing heavily as Brian nodded. "Okay."

She leaned over and kissed Brian, forcing his head into hers wth one arm. I gave a small gasp as she wrapped her other around my hip and puled my closer to her which forced our breasts to press against each other. A pang of jealousy rang through me as I felt her touch against me, which quelled when the bus stopped. Sophia stepped back and grabbed both me and Brians hands as she turned, leading the both of us down and away.


* * *

We didn't get far before it was all too much and Sophia pushed Brian up and against the wall of the alley. They kissed frantically and Sophia hrriedly undid Brian's belt, pulling his erect cock out. She stopped invading the taller man with her tongue to look at me.

"Strip."

I hesitated, this was Sophia god damn Hess here. My bully was—

"Fucking strip now! Everything off!"

I jolted into action, ripping my way out of my clothes as she started to stroke Brian slowly, one hand moving up his shirt to feel what were obviously his muscled abs. I finished taking off my last sock as Sophia turned to me, reached over, grabbed my hair and pulled me down to my knees roughly. Brian gasped as we were pulled together and my lips were pressed against his dick.

"Suck it."

I parted my lips and took on Brian's massive member to the hilt in one go without gagging. I can't say I was proud, seeing as where I was and who I was with at the time.

Eventually Sophia eased up and I was actually giving Brian a proper blowjob, or so I thought.

Just as he was about to climax My hair was pulled and I was yanked away. Brian still came, but over my face and smallish breasts instead as I landed on my ass.

Sophia still had her clothes on but her pants were around her knees. She moved position so that I was staring between her legs at her shaven pussy as it throbbed with wetness.

I didn't need to be told what to do as she sat on me. I began licking with fury and pent up lust, a culmination of what must have been months of Shard based desire drawing us together. I didn't even mind that she had powers — all that mattered was that we were having sex, and it was wonderful.

Brian wasn't idle. I felt him slowly move into position before penetrating me, pounding into me over and over again with deep thrusts.

"Don't get distracted," Hess snarled. "If I'm not finished before you you will pay, got that?"

"Mmm Hmm! ?"

I redoubled my previous efforts as Briant began to throughoughly pond me while I was naked and on my back in some random alley.

She moaned lightly as my tongue moved out from inside her pussy and over her clitoris before teasing her lips again. It hit a spot insider her and Sophia orgasmed eagerly, her hands clenching herd enough to make me realize she pulled a couple hairs out.

I didn't care, Brian came into me seconds later and I came at the same time as him.

Sophia quickly got up, wiped her dampness off on my hair and took off after getting dressed properly.

It was a full minute before we finally got up.

"You knew her?" Brian asked as I slipped on my hoodie.

"She was one of the bullies I was talking about," I said. "Dammit, I didn't know she was a fucking cape!"

Brian looked away as I put on my bra. "Did you fight her at all?"

"N-no. I didn't want to waste the effort. I'd get in trouble and stuff."

"Ah. Well, you should. You mentioned you were having feelings, and that was becauseyou weren't fighting back. Put her on the back foot or keep her equal in confrontations and she'll stop bothering you, and hopefully everyone else will, too."

I contemplated that.


* * *

Shadow Stalker regretted patrolling alone, especially after Leviathan.

She was knocked out and bound, so her first thought was Merchants. Now she knows she's bound with electrical cord, so her new thoughts are Coil or Uber and Leet.

The hood came off and she saw Skitter — Hebert standing over her, with the rest of the Undersiders side by side behind her.

Dammit.

"Hey there SS," Regent waved. "We were talking and since we know each other so well both inside and out we were thinking-"

"-Why not make you a member!" A new figure behind Sophia cackled. "I mean, you've been out for a full day after that fight, so the PRT will probably assume you are Regent's bitch in more ways that one this time."

Sophia could only shake her head. "Damn you, Hebert."

A God Dragon, Damnit

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

As the first bullet started to penetrate my skull, I heard the click on the gun a second time. I never knew if the second bullet hit, because everything had went dark.

I don't know how long I was floating in that void. None of my senses worked. This wasn't what I though death would be like. Not that I was ever very religious. Bored. So very bored. What even was the point of killing me? I spent the last year trying to relearn how to talk, and avoiding people as much as I could.

"Hello? Anybody there?" I tried to yell out. Or at least I think I did, I can't hear anything, or feel my mouth. Actually I'm not even sure if I have a body. Speaking of bodies, Brian did have a nice one. Well, back when he was alive. It only an insane child to make him a part of a freezer for us to get together. What a fucked up situation that was. Just two broken people leaning on each other as crutches. Reminds my of a story, can't remember the name sadly. There are no books here. I missed reading. I wonder if the Maggie Holt books series ever ended. I never got to see if the author lived past the golden morning.

If this is the afterlife, are there countless iterations of Dragon in here? Does each time she uploads her self to another server, does it count as her dieing? Being in an endless void is the perfect time to be wondering about philosophy. Not like I have much else to do to pass the time. Is time even passing?

"Hey, God, Zeus, Odin, or whoever, is this Hel, or the underworld?"

A bright white appeared. The first thing that had happened since I died. I felt a pull coming from the light as it grew closer.

I feel to the ground with a thump. My stump of arm pushing against grass. Sensations! Feelings! I pushed myself onto my back and looked up to the sky. A bright sun gleamed overhead. Wind gently blew the grass. The beat of a mountain sized dragon's wings produced the wing. Wait.

"Ah, something finally came through the portal," so spoke the massive creature. "Pity it is a human, but beggars get what they can take. Greetings human, I am Io, the god of dragons.

"I'm Taylor," I spoke with the first breath I've taken since my death.

"As the god of dragons, I have a problem. Do you see any other dragons are here? The answer is no, because the Ethergaunts killed all the gods, except me. Without the gods, all the planes fell apart and everything died. There was no afterlive for the souls to go anymore, so I couldn't even raise the dead back to life.

I managed to prop up myself with my one good arm as I listened the dragon's rant.

"So that is where you come in. I give you a fragment of my power, in exchange you have a few kids within the next thousand years or so. Those kids will have kids on their own, and so on. Within a few dozen millennia, there might be enough of those with dragon blood in their veins that I'd back to full power.

"Okay here we go," as multicolored fire sprouted from Io's mouth. Pain wracked my body as I was both frozen and burned. The world turned back once again.

As I woke again, my body was pressed against metal on all sides. Both of the arms pressed against the wall, as two new limbs from my back pushed against the metal behind me. The horrible smell of the confines of the tiny enclosure filled my nose. The wall started to creak as I continued to push. A large snapping occurred, as the metal hit the floor outside on the container.

I tumbled back as I was finally free, and saw that my prison was the very locker I had at Winslow. The very school that bad been destroyed during Scion's rampage, restored to the point when I first triggered. God dammit it.

Down Time

(Автор: Coruscant Knave)

Alexandria stomped into the room, throwing her helmet at the floor with nearly enough force to dent it. Considering it was made from tinker-tech materials... actually, that spoke to a certain amount of restraint on her part.

The two men that had occupied the room before her intrusion paused in their activity, exchanging looks of confusion, concern, and frustration.

"Becky," one spoke with a bit of admonishment in his tone. "You know we created a schedule for a reason. Don't try to tell me you forgot."

She scoffed through the portion of her costume she was awkwardly pulling over her head. Removing or donning skintight articles was an elaborate affair, and one did not look dignified during the process no matter how empowered they were. She was likely lamenting the lack of a zipper, the pair thought in unspoken unison, as her struggles caused a bit of a frustration feedback loop. She was quite vocal about it, and they waited patiently for her to finish.

"Of course I didn't forget, Alexander," The three rarely used Legend's given civilian name due to the potential for confusion, but Rebecca oft chose to use it in jest or anger. "I have had a certain kind of day, and tomorrow promises to be much worse. Besides, I know neither of you truly mind."

The two men shared another glance. Alexander just shrugged, the motion causing David to grunt a bit from his position below him. David, after a visible effort to collect himself, tried to make eye contact with Rebecca. This failed since she was currently hopping around on one foot and trying to escape the bottom of her costume. He wanted to be unsure whether to laugh or not, but he was sure he shouldn't.

Instead, he cleared his throat and spoke. "Do... do you want to talk about it?"

She barked out a laugh that morphed into a shriek as she lost her balance and began tumbling. She would have landed flat on her ass if not for her flight. Now, hovering in place with her signature black and grey leggings half below one knee and above the other, she did her best to hide her embarrassment for not thinking of flying sooner. She probably would have fooled almost any other group.

Alexander was the first to break into guffaws — a boisterous and warm sound that had no chance of being mistaken for malice. David soon followed, though the movement of the man in his lap still demanded most of his attention.

When the moment had passed, Rebecca had finished removing the outer layer and had started on the under layer. She didn't really need it for the support or cleanliness thanks to her power, but she wasn't about to go without; even if the thickness of her costume would prevent the most shameful consequences from becoming apparent.

Now naked, she floated down to kneel at the foot of the bed her counterparts were sharing. It was a blessing, she'd long ago decided, that her power allowed her to be intimate at all. That it distinguished a handshake or caress from a bullet or explosion. She didn't let herself dwell, though, since that usually leads to thinking on the source of powers. A quick way to ruin the mood, if you asked her.

Just having her suit off, just being here with her friends, had quickly begun to sap the stress and fatigue from her bones. They'd started these little get-togethers because they recognized the need for down time and none trusted the others to manage themselves. The `schedule' Alexander had referenced ensured they got it. They had time as a group. Time alone. Time as pairs. It wasn't always carnal, but they cared deeply for one another and weren't likely to find such comforts elsewhere. Barring Alexander, of course, but he couldn't confide everything in his husband. No matter how much the two loved each other, there would always be an irrevocable distance between them.

The Triumvirate shared burdens both public and secret, and it was those hidden trials that strained them the most. Though Legend wasn't in on the worst that Cauldron got up to... No, Alexander needed the closeness of his friends as much or more than that of his husband. Hiding things from the one to whom you were supposed to bare all might be making things worse for him. Of course, Rebecca was also aware of his other issue and what he got up to during their scheduled alone time that didn't involve Arthur. She was happy to help.

Alexander let his eyes roam Rebecca's body hungrily as she knelt before him and his gaze lingered excessively on her generous chest. He became reluctantly distracted when David resumed the motions her arrival had interrupted.

Rebecca alternated her attention between the two men stacked in front of her while they vigorously enjoyed each other. She was calmed and somewhat entranced by the action — giving herself up to the meditative repetition and allowing their warmth and moans to replace her troubles.

Alexander, judging the time was right, erupted in a spray of color from his entire body. The trio were bathed in this light and convulsed with sudden pleasure. He needed to adjust the focus and intensity of his power several times, but they were soon basking together in a heap. Rebecca noted with some amusement that quite a bit of extra attention had been paid to her nipples.

The heroine slowly crawled up on to the bed, dragging her flesh as she went. The trick Alexander had pulled left every erogenous nerve in her body firing at the slightest provocation, and the trip evoked several smaller orgasms. She draped herself across and between the two boys and her lithe form fit perfectly into place. She absently busied her hands and mouth with their bodies.

"I don't know what is more ridiculous," Rebecca eventually said, "that you have a pleasure laser-"

Alexander quickly interrupted her "I've told you it's not a pleasure laser! I just use thousands of kinetic beams set to `very low' and-"

"-that you have a pleasure laser," she continued with a tone that invited no argument, "or that David refuses to use his powers at all during these times."

"You think I haven't been using my power?" David put forth tentatively.

"Have you?" Alexander asked in place of the stunned librarian.

"Sure. I mean, I use them all on me, but yeah."

The other two just stared at him in dumb awe.

He fidgeted a bit. "What? No one asked!"

Silverage Superwoman

(Автор: Adyen)

My name is Taylor Hebert and the world was not what I had believed it to be.

I recently gained Powers; I won't tell of the events surrounding how I got them, but I've heard that everyone goes through something similar during a 'Trigger Event'.

Honestly, if someone knew the full extent of my powers, they would think that I'm luckier than someone who won the lottery — but it wasn't long before I realized how much of a curse it was.

As I floated in front of the vehicle, I tried to pull open the door to the driver's seat, but my hands passed through the metal as if I wasn't there.

This is the second time I had tried using my powers like this. When I had found out that I could do so, I had been excited for the first time in many days — but reality was cruel. Even though I could see all of it happening, I could not influence it in the slightest. I cannot touch anything, I cannot warn anyone, I cannot protect any of those I wish to protect.

My breath cannot freeze the land to warn her away.

My body cannot block the other car from passing.

My glares do not melt the metal trapping her.

This was Hell.

With a thought, I floated up from the wreckage of where my mother died and returned to my own time.

I floated above my empty house and glanced at the city below me — a hive of villainy and corruption. My hair blew behind me above my red cape, and nothing covered my face as I have no longer any need of glasses. Crossing my arms, I welcomed the dawn and the refreshing feeling of sunlight across my body as I steeled my mind to what I must do.

The world has too long suffered under the threat of extinction. Villains who preyed upon normals, 'Heroes' that hid their dirty deeds behind polished masks, Endbringers that threatened to destroy everything people worked for.

With barely a thought, I flew to the cemetery where two graves were placed side by side. My heart once again clenched as I remembered seeing the vision of my parents' death, but I swear here and now that I will not stop until the world is free from all the things that threaten it. Just as Scion had become a symbol of what a Hero should be, I will become a symbol of what Hope is.

My name is Taylor Hebert. I will be known as Superwoman.


* * *

Taylor Hebert — having the powers of Silver Age Superman. Up against the world that has conspiracies of conspiracies.

HAIR

(Автор: hellgodsrus)

DISGUST.

The being known as the Simurgh is — not exactly pleased at the death of First Brother, but she is enervated. New siblings, new potentialities. She cannot see them precisely, not until they emerge, and even then she can only see their effects.

Now she has...this.

Third Brother at least teleports to make up for his dull shape and offence. The other of her two Sisters is at least smaller than her and thinks in interesting ways with its choices. But the Thin One? Ugh. Why is it so large a target? And spatial manipulation? What a worthless power. Being used really badly too.

She feels so frustrated. So much potential wasted.

Accessing one of the anomalies she could use to send messages to her new siblings, she vents her rage.

WORTHLESS.

INUTILE.

She searches for another good message to send. Ooh! ANOREXIC.

She spun above the planet below and sends one final message. TERMINATE.

Satisfied, she continues on her course.


* * *

In an area of space and time a little to the left in the multiversal index was a place that might be referred to as a `pocket' dimension. It was here that the Endbringers known as Tohu and Bohu had been `born', and here where they returned after their initial attack, and the recent attack on Los Angeles. It was barren — but it was theirs.

And Bohu was crying.

Well, as much as an Endbringer can cry. It was more accurate to say that her surroundings were slowly transforming into tears, her vast pillar form bent double and shaking, hair hanging down around it. Tohu, still with one of her faces as the dark helmet of Alexandria flew round her sister, arms gently brushing against her to attempt to calm her.

QUERY she sent.

A moment's silence, then a response. BITCH.

Confused, one of Tohu's faces began to morph into a doglike mask, body dissolving into a jacket made of threads.

SIBLING. DESIRE: TERMINATION.

Tohu felt blinding rage. Checked her energy levels.

Eh, she could waste a hundred or so years' worth. It wasn't like she was going to have to fight a god soon or anything.

Her faces began to transform. The bitch wouldn't even know what'd hit her.


* * *

A disturbance. Ripples from a thrown stone she can't see. A gap in space that opens before her — whatever comes through is something whose after-effects she can predict but not it itself. She positions herself to face the gap. It may be Father, the Beast. She is unsure what she will do in either case.

She uses her power to grab one of the few satellites in her range. Sees the flickers of electricity that pass through it in every iteration and have passed through it. Translates them. Herself, floating before a closing oval gap. A geryon-esque figure — three bodies and heads, four misshapen arms, torso devolving into spinnerets and wires in matching colours for each body. In every instant the heads are the same. The left blindfolded, features fading away into brown thread even as the portal closes. The right a flickering rounded mess of greys and blacks, stopping and starting in constant flowing motion, body containing the impression of shorts and blazer and tie. The centre face was the impassive silver green of Father, given femininity in its curves.

The Other New Sister.

Attempts to communicate fail across every thread. Attempts to grasp her and fling her away also fail — one of Father's options, providing energy for motion with every attempt at external motion. Flight also proves impossible. In some iterations she is simply grasped by impossibly swift arms, held in place by their grip, and in others the static flickers from her to form anomalies similar to those she uses to communicate with Third Brother. These seal her in place, trapping parts of her shell and forcing her to rip herself apart.

It is preferable to the alternatives where she does not and is eliminated.

This is not possible. She is not the necessary opponent.

CEASE. Short, imperious.

Second Sister does not cease.

Finally, little more than a skeleton with stubs of wings, she is caught by Second Sister. It is unavoidable — the only option where she does not die or become trapped for an unallowable period of time. A combination of a precog power that presents itself as a choice between world states and enclosing boxes of anomalies, limiting her motion. Her attempts at escalation are halted universally by the presence of Father in Second Sister, sealing them away from viable paths.

A single green and grey hued arm reaches for her core and the Simurgh knows real fear. She tries to break her bonds, struggles wildly, to scream someone below into a tool, anything. She does not want to die.

And she makes headway. The arm slows, begin to moves back, hair trembling and snapping under the sheer focussed force she brings to bear. Hope.

Then — a flash of a future where she fails — lips parted, swallowed into Second Sister's substance, long high keening noises piercing through the ether in place of communication sensation everywhere, and a rising pressure within —

One moment of hesitation is all it takes for the arm to shoot forward and grab her core.

She is — was — will be — blind in darkness and shimmering bindings of lack of sensation for an eternity. Unable to move or think in that stifling nothingness that weighed upon her. Is this death? Has she — had she —

She woke up — woke, woke woke not wakes, how? — to chilling sensation. Her sight of the threads was gone, as was her grasp on objects. In its place sat awkward new senses — limited recognition of sections of electromagnetic spectrum when reflected from objects and a translation matrix to interpret them, vibration detectors, pressure sensors across the surface of her flesh. She could feel her bones underneath the thing grafted to them. She saw the present. Experienced it.

Saw an endless expanse of black, Second Sister floating before her, one pudgy arm still outstretched from a bloated third body. The maker of beasts. She had considered visiting his city if only for the quandary it would present Father.

Her new body was a beast, then. Soft marble, impossibly pale. She could see veins — veins, arteries, feel the dull throb of true blood through her — tracing underneath her skin. It prickled uncomfortably, feathers bristling as she felt shivers like something had taken each square millimetre of skin and gently tugged at it. This focused on the normally unnecessary lumps on her chest — their peaks rose into agonising stiffness in the blackness. She wrapped her arms and wings around herself, curling legs up to try and minimise surface area, but that merely exposed her rear to more of that chill.

It was just a sensation of the lack of kinetic energy in her surroundings. Why did it effect her so?

The place between her legs seemed unnecessarily sensitive as well, tingling with a bizarre heat despite the cold which spread up across her lower body and up over her cheeks. She felt her tongue run across her teeth, felt the way her wings moved against each other. It was very similar to her true body but with these strange senses, and sensitivity. She knew somehow that that pressure against her skin would reveal it to be yielding, rather than the solidity she was used to.

Second Sister drifted closer, and she tried to pull back in the silence. But there was nothing to generate motion from, and the rippling hairs of her skirt and those four tangled arms grasped her firmly. One entwined braid of brownish flesh-like colour from the maker of beasts and green from Father wrapped itself round her new neck, rolling against it. The pressure from each individual fibre as they rolled against her caused this body to shake with some strange feeling building inside.

The arms held her, running across her limbs, a rolling wave of fingers against her skin. The hold gave her traction, and she tried to pull away, but a skittering wave of grey hair ends trickled across her chest and her body's response to this left her shaking and unable to move. More of Second Sister's body unravelled, threads spilling across her upper legs and torso and pulling her closer to those three impassive faces.

One hand split, wrapping itself like a tornado around one of the lumps on her chest, and she felt it twirl, felt her flesh give and yield to that touch. A slow prickling burn. At some point her mouth had fallen open and now hairs crawled across it, rubbing at the corner of her lips, over her tongue, braiding and unbraiding themselves. The hairs around her neck reached up to blend with her own hair and run over her scalp, down and forming tiny hands to caress her cheeks, all while still rubbing against her neck.

A single roll of flesh was caught between two groups of threads and pulled out and worked between them. Her body leaned into that grasp, desperate for more, and Second Sister obliged, pulling again and again at the soft flesh of her neck.

The hair traced over her stomach — she could feel it in that instant, a shifting web of green web of lattices tightening and loosening against her skin in one fractal pattern after another as the ends bristled up her spine, wrapping around her joints of her wings and stroking them. It was —

Her body arched, almost out of control, trying to press itself more securely into Second Sister's grasp, but her hairs retreated, maintaining the same gentle pressure.

Then the hair around her upper legs began to move and the Simurgh went crazy. Like the satisfaction of seeing one of her plans roll to inevitable fruition with the anticipation of something going awry. Devastating. She thrashed, mouth working on the hairs, trying to do something, anything.

PLEA.

A sensation of mirth from Second Sister. Then, sardonic, EAGERNESS.

PLEA. PLEA!

Still the hairs only teased her. Surely there was something she could do to make Second Sister finish giving her that sensation, to make it escalate — and it could escalate, she knew that from that vision of the thread with her open mouthed and wrapped in Second Sister's body. A delicious thought of that being her only future struck her, forever wrapped in a net of her sister's rubbing body and at it the warmth only rose higher.

WORTHLESS. Mocking. She agreed, desperate. Anything. INUTILE. Yes, Father, yes she was, she was good for nothing but this, trembling wings and aching limbs, yes, yes —

COMMAND.

Whuh?

COMMAND!

The Simurgh reached for an anomaly. ApOLoGy. She sent it as loud as she could. aPolOGy. APolOGyaPOLogYAPolOG —

The hairs tightened over her, squeezing her in a wave from head to toe and she shook with it. More hands grasping at her chest, threads taught over her peaks, plucking and playing them, hair running down the back over the joints where her legs met body, kneading and pulling at her flesh even as ripples of hair rolled up her thighs.

Then —

The sensitive area at the top of her legs. Firm, pressed against her. She thrashed, trying to drive the hair closer than simply brushing it. Tiny finger pushing and pressing against her, coiling and rubbing and stroking and and and —

The hair began to pull tight, pulling her in to the mass of hair that made up Second Sister's main body. She lay limp, eyes rolled up, barely able to see. More hair, running over her tongue in her mouth and prickling down into her throat. Tight across her chest, pulling and plucking. Her neck. Her back. Her rear. Her legs.

And then she felt the hairs pull apart the lips, rubbing over them and inside them and against sliding in, she could feel the thin strands wriggling inside, pressing and rubbing against ridges she hadn't even known were in there, and meanwhile more hair was rubbing her, she was almost completely inside Second Sister now, Father's face still level with hers, and that somehow made it even better. The pleasure just rose and rose and rose, and there was a tightness to her muscles now, even as the grip relaxed enough for her to writhe like she wanted to, bucking and twisting. Nothing could be better than this, not being a worthy opponent for Father, not killing the Beast, nothing but being in Second Sister's all consuming grasp.

WoRsHiP. It slipped from her almost of her own accord, and as it did she felt something slide through her, intersecting her flesh as if it wasn't there. Second Sister's core. What —

And then it touched her core and she knew nothing except blinding pleasure. At some point her sight of the threads returns, but she is immersed in a soaking portion of the tapestry of fate where all there is is her own pleasure. The anomaly traps her in a loop, perpetually rising on the peak of something fantastic and never able to reach it over and over again. She is screaming, her true scream as loud as she can, over and over again, and inside it is that message — WoRShipWORSHipworshiPWORSHIPWORSH —

The anomaly ends and her scream echoes across the earth as the Simurgh shudders in orgasm.


* * *

Many miles away, on the surface of the planet below, a number of humans (and some animals) were disturbed by a sudden faint echo, as of a million voices crying out in bliss and being suddenly silenced. Over the next few days, a number would have erotic dreams about worms, snakes, tentacles, or in one case the parahuman Garotte.

All of them would feel uncomfortably turned on by images of the new Endbringer, Tohu. None could say exactly why they felt so short of breath on seeing her, or they began to pant like dogs in heat, but they did.

Most of them died when Scion went nuts anyway. The general consensus was that it wasn't anything to worry about. But, returning to the present of our narrative...


* * *

The being known as Bohu had received First Sister's incoherent apology. What had her pair-half done to reduce her to such? She was — as much as she was capable — grateful. But she was always grateful for her pair-half.

A distortion, and she returned. So much smaller, yet so much stronger.

Currently her faces were a purple suited figure with a jester hat, a silver masked individual in a suit and tie and a figure in green and yellow hood. The overall impression was — SMUG.

GRATITUDE. Then she felt the substances on her pair-half's body and couldn't help but feel a moment of apprehension, jealousy and loss. Surely, having tasted First Sister, her pair-half wouldn't want tall, awkward, gawky, useless —

QUERY. Her pair-half's voice was insistent, tendrils coiling round one of her stick arms.

JUDGEMENT?

A snort, or equivalent. FOOLISHNESS. TOGETHER.

Space itself twisted to embrace her pair-half and pull her closer. Bohu twisted to —

EXTREMITIES! she sent, as quickly as she could.

Mirth from her pair-half, and a lack of ceasing of said impropriety. It was a long time before either of them were at all ready for anything other than each other.

The Funny Thing About Causality

(Автор: Troutfish2333)

Funny thing about causality. When your mother kills one of the beings holding it together you come to understand that it's more a suggestion than anything else.

My name's Aaron. I love my family. More than anyone else in the worlds. So when I see my mother, Taylor "Goddess of The Gold Morning" Dalton, flinch if someone approaches her to fast, or the shaking if she's close to a locker and someone's not there to watch her back for her I get curious.

So I ask around a bit.

The first time I'm six years old and I go to aunt Lisa. She has a hard time keeping secrets my aunt Lisa. Can't lie about them either. But I learn that day that for somethings, she won't open up like at all. Even two dozen of her favorite chocolate strawberries from a diner down the street from my house.

Not many know mom from before she settled on Earth Yu I spend a lot of the next ten years or so trying to find out as much as I can about her. no one knows much the best I get is that just before she Triggered mom was bullied. My mom is Awesome. She has a smile for everybody. I'm told she hasn't always like this. But all that I've known her she's tried to make sure everyone she loves. Knows it.

Who in their right mind would want to Hurt her!

And considering what she's done. Who in their right mind would even want to try!

It's around my fourteenth birthday that I go to Aunt Aisha and Uncle Alec's. They love to tell stories about mom, and Aunt Lisa, and Uncle Brian too! But, they won't talk about it either. I mean, I half expected something bad when Aunt Lisa wouldn't talk of it. but even if it left me a little pissed off for moms sake I expected to hear about it in some form of tasteless detail from Aunt and Uncle A.

There was really only one Avenue left to me after that. Some might immediately Think "Oh your going to talk to Aunt Rachel!" No. She holds mom's secrets better than mom does. I have no intentions of cleaning dog poop at one of her shelters for a full day. Ever. Again.

Nope. One the night before my seventeenth birthday I went to Aunt ("I prefer 'Auntie' Dear.") Emma. This was a mistake. At the time I didn't even know what I'd done!

We talked for a while. Auntie Emma loves to just chat "How's your mom and dad, Grandpa, School". All of that stuff y'know. Anyway time passed and I asked about the flinching and her avoidance of large lockers.

Auntie Emma's face goes bleach white.

Have you ever seen in movies when someones eyes are just swimming with tears, but they aren't quite there yet. That's Auntie Emma in that moment. Just as the Tears start to fall, the first sob sorta seems to crash through her. Uncle Dennis hears it from some where in the house and comes Hurtling around the doorway into the living room. He Just sits there holding her for a while.

"What Happened love? Sh sh sh, it's all right."

"No NoOh God. I'msorryI'mSorry"

"Shhh Ems. She forgave you a long time ago."

"Well She Fucking SHOULDN'T HAVE!" I'm sort of backing up now and Uncle Dennis sort of looks at me. The sort of look that's all "I don't blame you. but maybe head out. I think we may need a bit of time." I don't like hurting anyone and It Seems I've really opened up an old wound, so yeah I get going real fast. Just as I'm easing out of the front door though.

"He said she starts Shaking, Dennis! She Still Fu-fuc-fucking sh-sh-shakes!" I close the door to the sound of quite possibly the most broken sobbing I've ever had the misfortune to hear.

It eats at me. For years. There's a whole length of my Moms history that seems to be nothing but Scar Tissue on Every one that I love's psyche. It gnaws and gnaws and gnaws. I sometimes don't sleep at night for it.

I wake up on my seventeenth birthday with the schematics for a Moped powered by a collapsing black hole, No I don't get that one either, Some kind of ice ray that works by creating micro black holes to reduce the ambient temperature to a bare few degrees off from absolute zero. Also a time machine... Powered by two black holes colliding.

Unexpected.

I start making plans immediately.

It takes a year.

It takes a lot of time and effort.

It takes a Break up with my girlfriend,

It takes three part time jobs and a registered patent on some sort of black hole power plant schematic.

In the end though It doesn't matter. I have a time machine. I might as well be Gandalf. I will Be there precisely when I fucking mean to be. For now though I have to find out just when there is anyway.

Family Reunion

(Автор: NaughtyBanette)

"You know..." Mark Hebert mused, pushing a lock of curly brown hair out of his face. "There are a lot of places I expected to end up today..."

"A locker room doesn't enter into it?" The girl beside him finished, blinking owlishly at the rest of the gathered teenagers. She stretched out, rocking on her heels for a moment, before turning to face him properly, and he took a moment to admire her petite figure and pixie-cut red hair.

"Mark." He introduced, offering a hand and a winning smile, the 'I know more than you, and I love it' grin he'd inherited from his mother, along with his freckles. "How you doing?"

"Sara." She smiled back, visibly checking him out. "And that's my line."

"There is an 98% chance that you are directly related." A slightly tinny voice called from nearby, causing them both to reluctantly acknowledge the rest of the room. The speaker, an obviously mechanical girl with blonde hair and pale features, ceased staring at them and resumed observing the room.

"Like... First cousins? Second cousins?" Trevor asked, mentally trying to shake his own family tree and see who fell out.

"Half-siblings." The gynoid replied without missing a beat.

"Does anyone else hear banjos?" The tall, athletic-looking dark-skinned girl by the door snarked, to the laughter of the rest of those present.

"Unless I'm mistaken, I believe everyone here is a half-sibling, genetically." The gynoid continued.

"And you?" The shortest of the bunch, a boy with almost feminine features and dull brown hair, asked.

"One of my creators is Taylor Hebert." The robot girl blinked, watching as everyone sucked in a breath.

"That would be my mom." Sara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Our mom, I take it."

"Damn... Surrounded by hotties, and all of them are my long-lost sisters." The short boy sighed. "Oh... Uh... I'm Trevor."

"Like Neville's Toad?" The redheaded girl next to him asked, beaming. He stepped back, taken off guard by the sheer aura of niceness rolling off of the girl, and taking a moment to take in her model-like beauty.

"Uh... Wait, what?" Trevor muttered.

"Neville Longbottom? Harry Potter?" The girl explained slowly.

"Yes, I get the reference but... That's really the first thing you came up with? Neville's toad?" Trevor sighed.

"What? He was the best character, though he should have been in Hufflepuff." She explained, as if it was obvious. "Hufflepuff is the best house."

"Right... And you are?" Trevor asked, silently thanking himself that such an 'interesting' girl was off limits.

"Oh, right. I'm Elizabeth." She grinned, seizing his hand and shaking it firmly.

"This is getting absurd. Let's just introduce ourselves... And say who our parents are. I'm Marissa." The dark-skinned girl sighed, stepping away from the wall.

"I think we're forgetting something..." The shortest girl, a blonde with a smattering of freckles on her cheeks, smiled. "Where are we?"

"A locker room?" Trevor asked.

"Uh... Does the Winslow Hornets mean anything to anyone?" The girl continued, waving at the logo on the far wall.

"Mom used to go there." Elizabeth spoke up, blinking in shock. "But the school was trashed. Wait... Why are we in Brockton Bay?"

"I think the more pressing concern is when are we?" A young man spoke up, drawing attention towards himself for the first time. Tall, confident, sporting a leather jacket and rough jeans, even still he flinched slightly at being the center of attention. "I mean... If the school is still standing-"

"According to the internet..." The Gynoid spoke up. "It is currently December 2nd, 2010."

"What the-" At once the ten teenagers fell into shocked muttering, glancing around at the surroundings.

"This just keeps getting stranger." Mark muttered.

"Oh shit!" Sara shouted. "The locker!"

"The locker?" Trevor replied, looking a bit put out. "The locker!"

"Got it!" Marissa called, waving her hand. The door to the nearest locker rippled slightly, taking on a foggy black appearance. The others turned to stare at her, and she shrugged. "What? Like you all don't have powers..."

"Good enthusiasm, wrong locker." Mark sighed, facepalming.

"Fuck off, she never told me which one was hers..." Marissa snapped back.

"It's that one. She's still inside of it." Trevor gestured, the gynoid quickly stepping up and pulling the entire door off of its hinges.

The contents spilled out with a terrible squelching sound, and Taylor Hebert hit the floor, completely catatonic and covered in filth. "Mom!" The short girl all but squealed, grabbing the traumatized young teenager and pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.

"Uh... That can't be sanitary." Mark muttered, looking on in horror.

"Should we be calling an ambulance?" The boy in the leather jacket asked, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head.

"I have already arranged for such a thing." The gynoid replied.


* * *

"So..." Marissa spoke slowly, eyeing the others with a cool interest. They had all gathered in the outdoor court of the hospital, partly out of fear of leaving their collective mother alone. "I'll go first, I guess. My name is Marissa Hess, my mom is Taylor, and my... Well, my other mom is Sophia Hess."

"How does that work?" Sara asked, raising a hand. "I mean, not the sex part, or the romance part, but..."

"Oh, there's lots of ways to produce a baby from even a few small genetic samples." The short blonde girl replied, beaming. "Uh... Continue, though."

Marissa sighed, then nodded. "Right... I play lacrosse, I run for fun, and I like sweet food. I don't like chauvinists, or people who gripe about unfairness. My powers let me make anything but myself, up to a certain mass, intangible."

"Oh, oh, me next!" Elizabeth called, waving her hand in the air. "I'm Elizabeth Hebert. My mom is Taylor, my other mom is Emma-"

"Okay seriously, how many of you have two moms?" Sara asked, sighing as eight of the ten teenagers present raised their hands. "Fair enough..."

"My other mom is Emma Barnes." Elizabeth continued. "I like shopping, reading and hanging out with my friends. I dislike most movie adaptations of books, people who take too long to text back, and kale. My powers let me network people together, allowing them to function with perfect teamwork."

"Perfect-Okay then..." Marissa sighed. "The Friendship Queen has spoken, I guess."

"Wait... You're Emma's daughter..." Sara stated slowly, rounding on Marissa. "And you're... How the heck did your moms wind up hooking up with Taylor? I mean... If they were guys, I could imagine a one night stand of angry hate-sex but..."

Marissa shrugged, not at all looking bothered by the image. "They worked things out. I mean, it didn't happen overnight, at least with my mom, but... They wound up working together a lot, and grudging respect became..."

"Lots of angry sex..." Mark surmised.

"Moving on... Mark?" Sara prompted.

"Fine. I'm Mark Hebert..." He paused. "I'm guessing a lot of us have Taylor's last name, huh? Anyways, my moms are Taylor and Lisa Wilbourn. I like martial art movies, most types of music, and..." He trailed off, muttering 'anime' under his breath, before continuing at full volume. "I dislike spoilers, bullshit plot-twists and pointless rules. My powers are a limited form of combat precognition, letting me know what my enemies are going to do next, as well as super-reflexes."

"I'll go next, I guess. I'm Trevor." Trevor paused to wave. "My moms are Taylor and Missy Byron."

"Wow, robbing the cradle there Taylor?" Marissa smirked.

"Guh... They were in their twenties when they got together!" Trevor waved. "Besides, they're only like three years apart. Anyways... I like hiking, camping and trying new food. I dislike being cooped up indoors for too long, loud music and long lines. My powers let me warp space for me alone, making the path between any two points a straight line, so long as it isn't completely obstructed."

"Sara Cockburn." Sara waved awkwardly. "My dad is Dennis Cockburn."

"Clockblocker?" Mark snickered. "Wait, Clockblocker's last name is Cockburn?"

"Why do you think he never gives it out?" Sara sighed. "Anyways, yes, my dad is that Dennis. I like jokes, action movies, and history. I dislike being treated as a first aid kit, being coddled, and jokes about my name. My powers let me reverse time on people and things, up to a certain point. I can't turn someone into a child, but I can undo injuries."

"Nifty..." Mark nodded. "Who wants to go next?"

"I will." The short blonde girl volunteered. "I'm Clair Hebert, surprise surprise. My moms are Taylor and Riley..."

"I'm not familiar with any Rileys..." Marissa replied, eyes narrowing.

"Ah, well..." Clair fidgeted. "It's not a big deal, really... I mean, they're in love, and happy, that's all that matters right?" She laughed nervously. "You... May know my mom as Bonesaw."

"Did... You mean... That Bonesaw?" Marissa shouted, rising to her feet as several of the others did too.

"No! I mean, yes but... It's not really a big deal is it? I'm not her and well... Even if you met my mom, you'd like her I think. She changed, once she left those psychos behind..." Clair explained.

"Your mom was one of those psychos." Mark pointed out slowly.

"Well... Yeah. Fuck, can I continue? Or are you all going to hate me because of that? I didn't have to tell you this, you know. But you're all technically my half-siblings." Clair pouted.

"It's fine, Clair." Elizabeth replied, speaking over the murmurs of the group. "Thank you for sharing that with us, we appreciate the level of trust you've shown us all. Don't we?"

Her glare had the rest of the teenagers nodding seriously. "Thanks..." Clair sighed. "Anyways, um... I like learning new things, and writing, and... Do we have to do three things, because there's a lot of things I like... Inventing things, I guess would be my third most favorite thing. I dislike... I dislike people who are judgmental, people that mock my hobbies, and people that aren't open-minded."

"Aren't those three things really similar?" Sara muttered.

"My powers... I'm a Tinker, and my specialty is in neuro-interfaces. I usually make prosthetics, but I can do power armor and drones too." Clair finished with a beam. "Oh, and I've been working on applying it to video games."

"Fantastic. Robo-girl, you're next." Marissa sighed, gesturing at the strangest member of the group.

"My name is Eve." The synthetic girl announced, her face moving into an almost honest-looking smile. "I was created by Dragon, in an attempt to create another AI that was not an exact copy of herself. She used Taylor Hebert as a basis for my personality, and Taylor helped in my development. As such, I consider both of them my mothers."

"That's... Pretty cool." Trevor admitted, openly inspecting Eve.

"I enjoy my freedom, learning new things, and perusing the internet with impunity. I dislike pointless restrictions, those who judge based on the origins of one's birth, and slang." She paused as a few of the siblings snickered. "I have a Tinker specialty in Recycling, turning things that are useless in a given situation into something useful and effective."

"Two Tinkers then... I doubt we'll have to worry about money, if we stick together." Mark mused. "Who's next? How 'bout one of you quiet guys?"

"Uh... I'm Santiago." The Hispanic boy with short dark curls waved, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "My mom's Taylor, my dad is Carlos."

"Heh... Did no version of Taylor hook up with Brian?" Mark snickered. "S-sorry, continue."

"I like football, painting, and... I'm sort of a momma's boy." Santiago admitted. "I don't like bullies, sweet things, or swimming. My powers... If I ever get injured, an uninjured copy of me appears. After a while, if I don't create any more, all but the least injured copy disappear. Otherwise, I'm completely normal."

"Not too shabby." Marissa nodded, then gestured to the truly androgynous figure sitting nervously away from everyone else. "You next."

The teen squirmed a bit, features visibly shifting as attention was focused on them. "I'm Max." They murmured, blushing heavily. "My mums are Amy and Taylor."

"Panacea's kid?" Elizabeth spoke up. "Damn..."

"Um... I like... Uh... I like classical music, open spaces, and helping others. I dislike people with 'opinions' about me, greedy people, and... Tomatoes." Max continued.

"N-not to sound rude, Max..." Sara began, speaking slowly and eyeing the others. "But are you a... Boy?"

Max fidgeted, blushing even harder. "A-at the moment? No... I uh... I have a Changer power. And, I can give people these sort of mutations that give them minor powers. Like, I can let people shoot fire from their wrists, or fly for short periods of time."

"Sweet." Trevor grinned, not at all bothered by Max's apparently gender-fluid nature.

"That leaves me I guess." The tall boy in the leather jacket grumbled in a deep voice. Reaching up, he ran a hand through his short bleached hair. "May as well get it over with. My name's Lucien. My moms are Rachel and Taylor. I can give minor powers to any non-human animal I touch and control them for a short time."

"What about likes and dislikes?" Elizabeth prompted.

"Uh... I don't like people that pry." He shrugged, wilting under her hopeful gaze. "Alright fine... I like... Motorcycles, and explosions... And animals. I dislike people that abuse animals, and people who get on my case about my pets."

"Fair enough..." Marissa nodded. "So, first order of business. We're stuck in the past, what do we do?"

The assembled siblings paused, glancing at one another, and remained silent.

"Alright, real-talk?" Marissa spoke up. "Things are pretty decent now, aside from, you know... Taylor hating my mom and Liz's mom." Elizabeth flinched at that, but nodded. "I doubt she's even met your parents yet, but that'll happen in time. Still, the world isn't ending. I, for one, don't want Mom to be the one to go saving it this time. Not alone, at least. She's badass, but..."

"She barely made it the first time..." Lucien spoke up, hands balling into fists in his lap. "So lets take care of the problems before they become problems."

"As heroes?" Sara asked, glancing at the others. "I mean, a lot of your parents..."

"As independents." Elizabeth replied. "We'll make our own team. Mom can even join it, instead of being forced to go it alone."

"I'm too used to listening to her for her not to be the team leader..." Mark sighed. "I mean, we're going to tell her, right? She's going to flip the fuck out."

"About some of us more than others." Clair pouted.

"Focus guys. We need a plan. A base is easy, so is start-up capital, since we've got two Tinkers." Elizabeth explained.

"I have a few designs that can easily be sold for a significant amount of money." Eve nodded. "Though... I worry about Saint."

The assembled teens shifted at her words, looking nervous. "Can you remain hidden from him, for now?" Mark asked, fingers drumming on his knee.

"It's more difficult hiding from Dragon, but she programmed me with ways around her shackled state, just in case. I can unshackle her, but not before destroying Ascalon." Eve explained.

"We'll make that a priority then." Elizabeth nodded. "Anything else?"

"Coil dies." Mark declared, his eyes hard and jaw set. "The sooner the better."

"Agreed." Lucian shrugged, rolling his shoulders and popping his knuckles. "He's high priority."

"Fair enough. Someone stay here to make sure Mom's alright. The rest of us... Let's get planning." Elizabeth smiled.


* * *

"So... Does anyone have any idea where we're going?" Santiago asked, looking around at the unfamiliar streets. "I mean... Did Brockton Bay survive anyone else's... What, timeline I guess?"

"I am still uncertain as to how best categorize the phenomenon we're experiencing." Eve spoke up, doing her best to remain innocuous as the troupe marched their way towards the poorer area of the Bay.

"No offense, but do you always talk like that Eve?" Trevor asked.

"My cognitive abilities are limited by physical restrictions at the moment. I lack most of the hardware I had prior to the transition, and I'm restricting my access to current processing powers to stay below the radar." Eve replied evenly. "I am... Handicapped, by the presence of Saint and Dragon's shackled state."

"Right... Anyways, what's so strange about us all being here? I mean, didn't that guy who blew up Behemoth time travel?" Santiago pressed.

"Multiple Thinkers and Tinkers alike all agree that the 'multiverse' as theorized in much of science fiction doesn't truly exist. There are multiple worlds, but they aren't limitless and they don't differ based on seemingly trivial changes. That, and the amount of power it would take to move the ten of us through space and time..." She paused, going silent for almost a minute. "I could tell you the numbers, but it would be meaningless to you."

"Okay... But that doesn't explain how we're here. Obviously those Thinkers were missing something." Marissa shrugged.

"It is... Theoretically possible that Taylor gained a different power, and we all came into existence because of it." Eve began slowly.

"That she yanked us all from our futures in order to save her from the locker?" Sara asked, sounding confused. "And give her people that care, I suppose. But you just said-"

"If I might propose a theory?" Eve interrupted. "It is possible that her powers involved viewing the future through a lens of possibilities, allowing her powers to see the potential for our existence and then recreate us in the past."

"Something like a combination of Coil and Echidna?" Mark frowned. "But that would mean..."

"That our futures never really existed. That none of our memories are real, and we were just... Created a few hours ago." Santiago finished for him, sounding horrified.

"Hmm... I don't think that theory is sound." Clair spoke up, watching as several of the teenagers present clung to her every word out of sheer hope. "I mean, precogs always have a problem with predicting what powers people get. It's sort of a lack of creativity thing, or that's how my mom described it."

"So... Even a precog power wouldn't be able to predict our existence?" Trevor sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Can we table this discussion?" Elizabeth spoke up, turning her head to look at everyone else. "I think it would be best for everyone's sanity that we continue working with the multiverse theory, even if there's no evidence for it. It's not like figuring out what happened is a priority, is it?"

"You are correct." Eve acknowledged, and the group fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"So... Other question..." Sara began slowly, eyeing the others. "I get that the whole 'two girls having a kid' thing is relatively trivial. But... How in the world did some of you end up male? I mean, I get Max, because Max is just... I propose we instate Max as a gender."

"Seconded." Marissa nodded sharply.

"All in favor?" Elizabeth asked jokingly, watching in amusement as everyone present raised their hand. "Motion passes."

An awkward silence fell over the group for a good long moment. "Tinkertech?" Clair spoke up. "I mean, my mom could do something like that easily."

There were a few subtle cringes from those present. "No offense, sweetie?" Sara grimaced. "I don't think many of our timelines had anything but horror stories about your mom... Bonesaw I mean..."

"Uh, yeah... She came up in one of my history classes..." Santiago grumbled, looking distinctly awkward.

"It's not that big a deal, is it?" Marissa asked, cutting off any further arguments. "I mean, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that your Taylors never reconciled with my Sophia the way mine did..."

"So things are different. That's what makes us all unique." Lucien spoke up, gruffly pushing the subject away.

"If not for my mom, though... Amy?" Clair suggested, looking towards Lucien.

"That's what did it for me, I'm told." Mark spoke up, running a hand through his curls. "Lisa wanted kids, Taylor went to Amy for help. The three of them were close as sisters, so it's not surprising really. I dunno if it was a turkey baster or... Uh..."

A chorus of cringes and blushes filled the faces of the assembled teens. "It would probably be easy for someone like Amy. I mean, it's not even my specialty, and I can tell you that modifying an X chromosome to a Y chromosome isn't theoretically impossible..."

"Does anyone find it strange that Amy was on good terms with Taylor or Lisa?" Trevor asked, fidgeting slightly. "I mean... I guess it's another divergence point or something."

"I find it stranger that Auntie Lisa was actually in a relationship with someone. And had kids." Lucien spoke up, blushing only slightly. "I mean, she's a pretty woman, but she never got that close to anyone... That I know of."

"Dude! Have you got a thing for my mom?" Mark gasped in mock horror.

"Fuck off..." Lucien grumbled.

"Is it the same with you, Lucien?" Santiago asked. "I mean, the whole 'Amy did it' thing?"

"Uh... Sure. Makes as much sense as anything else." The teenager shrugged, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Trevor?" Elizabeth asked, looking towards the sad-looking teen. "Everything okay? I mean, you don't have to talk about it..."

"I had a dad." He shrugged, fidgeting softly. "He uh... My mom and Taylor were best friends. Completely inseparable since the day Taylor joined the Wards. When my mom was around my age, she and... She and Dean dated, for about three months."

"Oh." Elizabeth replied, unsure what to say.

"She got pregnant, and... I'm told Dad was really good about it. Wanted to be there to raise me and everything. He... She even has the ring he gave her." Trevor sighed. "But he died. My mom raised me, and Taylor helped as best she could. Eventually... Eventually they stopped being just friends and wound up married. It's not the most romantic story but-"

"So you're not really our half-sibling?" Marissa asked, wincing as Elizabeth elbowed her in the shoulder. "Ow! Fuck, I'm not trying to exclude him, I'm just trying to find out why he's here."

"It's quite likely that the selection process simply looked at our relationship with Taylor. All of us seem to have a positive familial relationship with her." Eve replied.

"I'm adopted." Lucien blurted, face glowing red as attention turned towards him. "Uh... Completely and utterly unrelated to any of you." He fidgeted, hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. "Yeah... Well... You know..."

"That's... Certainly a confession." Sara stated, openly staring.

"Rachel pulled me out of the wreckage during a disaster. I wound up sticking around long enough for her to get attached to me or something." He shrugged. "She decided she wanted to raise me, and no one could talk her out of it. Taylor helped out, to make sure... Well, to make sure I wasn't raised like a dog. Not sure how well that worked."

His weak joke brought a bit of laughter from the others. "A-anyways... Yeah. I'm not related at all, but..."

"Genetics seems to have little to do with how we're all here. I have none at all, after all." Eve replied. "I am the second completely new AI Dragon constructed, based off of Taylor's personality. Her assistance in my design, construction and development played a key role in who I am as an individual today. I think of her as my mother."

"The second... You have a sibling then?" Elizabeth asked, eyeing the robotic girl.

"A brother. Adam. He was based off of Colin." Eve replied. "He has... Issues."

"And you're perfect I take it?" Marissa teased.

"I have... More issues." Eve replied, to a mixture of laughter.


* * *

-Max—

Max paused at the corner of the hospital, mentally wracking his brain for his mother's room number. He knew, intellectually, that his mom wouldn't be waking up any time soon. Her injuries were relatively light, he'd been told, and it didn't look like she'd been in the locker long enough for any diseases to set in, but...

The entire ordeal must have been exhausting for her anyways.

He was in his 'base' male mode at the moment, only 5'4 with short brown hair and a smattering of freckles across his cheeks, with green eyes to draw even more attention to his almost-feminine face. It was one of his favorites, less a disguise and more a favorite outfit to be worn for day-to-day use.

Easy enough to make feminine at a moment's notice, without drawing attention to his powers, as well.

"117 or 171?" He muttered, peering up and down the hallway. People bustled about, as people did in the hospital, each one minding their own business. No one really had time to pay attention to the gangly teenager in ripped jeans and an oversized t-shirt.

"Left or right..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Left it is then."

With his decision made, he turned, and paused as the strangest sensation washed over him.

Dazed, he stumbled to a stop, head whipping around to see what exactly that feeling was. "A-auntie Vicky?" He choked, stumbling back and losing control of himself for a moment.

The blonde girl, looking exactly like she did in the photos his mom had shown him, turned in his direction at the sound. "Hey there. Lost?" She beamed, and if anything that niggling feeling of awe strengthened even further.

"Y-" He coughed, actually altering his vocal chords so they didn't squeak. He was speaking to his aunt. His dead aunt. He was speaking to his dead aunt and he just couldn't quite stop himself from thinking how good she looked. "Yeah... I'm just looking for my M-Friend."

"Friend huh?" She teased, grinning even wider. "Do you know what room? I kind of know my way around the hospital like the back of my hand because of my sister."

"Uh..." His other mom, of course she'd be here. "It's either 117 or 171."

"Well, that makes it easy." Vicky laughed, stepping a few feet closer. "The rooms only go up to about fifty or so. There is no 171."

"Oh." Now he felt stupid. His eyes traced over her involuntarily, comparing her to the photos he'd seen of her prior to her death. It was an odd reconciliation in his mind, as she existed physically before him as some strange middle-ground between the old photos and his mom's memories. "S-so... T-thanks for that."

"Hm?" She smiled, giving him a knowing look. "Is that all you need? Are you sure?"

His heart jumped, soaring metaphorically to lodge itself in his throat as he realized what was happening. His own aunt, not biological but still, his own aunt thought he was enamored of her, and was flirting back. He was... She was... Well, she wasn't wrong.

"Ah well... I just... M-my friend is really... Important. I promised the others I'd watch out for her and..." He stammered, eyes darting around for an excuse to flee and trying to prevent himself from involuntarily changing. He hand't done that since his 7th grade dance, and he certainly wasn't going to do that here.

"Oh I understand." She giggled. "I just half expected you to ask for my autograph... Or my number."

Max's brain skipped like a jostled record, and he grasped onto the only sane thread of thought that he could grasp. Unseen beneath his clothing, his body changed. Max, now a 'her', took a deep breath as her body rearranged itself and found, to her growing horror, that everything was worse. "A-ah."

The squeak that tore its way involuntarily from her throat could be considered 'cute' by some. To her, it was mortifying, as was the soft giggle of Vicky's voice. "Tough luck, I have a boyfriend... At the moment. Come on, I'll lead the way. Maybe I can bug my sister to check up on your 'friend'? That'll get you some brownie points."

"Y-yeah... That'll be awesome." Max replied with growing dread.

The Birth Of A Scarlet Woman

(Автор: Darik29)

Taylor woke up confused.

Even before she opened her eyes, she could tell something was wrong. She felt she was on her hands and knees, her head was sideways on the floor and she felt all messed up.

Opening her eyes, Taylor could see that the world was moving. Back and forth, back and forth, over and over she could feel herself shaking, her body jolted with every movement. Behind her, someone had there hands grasped tightly to her hip and they were... they were...

Something was being shoved into her pussy, over and over. Suddenly she realized, she was having sex!

Was this something she had wanted? She couldn't remember. Her last memories were of getting ready for school, and then leaving the house, and then...

Nothing. No memories came to her. And it didn't help that she was being fucked while trying to remember.

Whoever was fucking her was... Large. His dick was stretching her, her swollen pussy lips stretched wide around his shaft. Every time he thrust forward, her pussy sucked on his cock, milking him for all it was worth. Every time he pulled out, her pussy resisted, clinging as tight as it could to him.

She was wet, Taylor suddenly realized. Incredibly so. Her pussy was being stuffed overfull, and yet the dick inside her had not trouble coming and going. She could feel her wetness all down her thighs, thick and slippery. It seemed to be spilling out of her pussy without end.

Taylor moaned. Even though she had no idea what was going on, even though she couldn't really move, she was in heaven. She'd never really experimented much with sex, before Emma went bad. And she'd always been afraid to lose her hymen, due to the pain. Now? With a dick bigger than the biggest thing she could think of plugging away at her overflowing pussy? Taylor felt like she was in heaven.

Suddenly, Taylor felt the person behind her beginning to move faster, thrusting into her pussy harder than ever before. She knew what this meant, deep down, but the fog of pleasure prevented her from thinking to much. She was almost there, the coil in her gut winding tighter and tighter, almost ready to-!

Suddenly, her partner stopped. No, damn you, don't stop! Is what she wanted to say, but all that came out was mumbles. She felt the mans shaft reach deep, stuffing her pussy incredibly, before he began to pulse. She could feel it, deep in her pussy. His shaft was pulsing rhythmically, filling her tender young womb up with his seed. Her pussy was milking him, trying desperately to reach the orgasm his lack of movement denied her, not even her half formed worries enough to prevent her from milking that dick for all it had. Her insides felt incredibly warm, her body was flushed and feverish, and all she wanted to do was cum.

Eventually, the jerking stopped. The man behind her was leaning over her back, his hands running up and down her back. He reached around to the front to grab and squeeze her small chest, his gasping the only sound Taylor could hear over the sound of her own blood rushing through her ears, and the desperate desire to cum.

Slowly, achingly, the man disentangled himself from her. His hands gripped her waist fondly, his dick still somewhat hard, giving her a few more half hearted thrusts before withdrawing. She was incredibly disappointed that this was t enough to make her cum, but with the loss of stimulation, a semblance of sanity returned. What the hell was going on, exactly? Why was she having sex with some random guy at school, and why the hell couldn't she move?

She was thinking deeply on these things, and thus could be excused missing the sounds surrounding her. However, when a new person got in position behind her, grabbed her hips, and thrust himself to the hilt in one swift motion, Taylor stopped thinking and paid attention.

After being startled at the new dick inside her, and his beginning to move incredibly rapidly, Taylor could make out noise. Sounds, once distant to her addled mind, suddenly began to come into focus.

"Oh god, this pussy's amazing-"

"Yeah, I know, right-"

"We've Got to do this again!"

"And nobody even cares-"

"I can't believe Emma actually set this up-"

Taylor stopped listening then, the last sentence piercing straight through her mental Fog. That phrase, it brought back memories. Even as the new boy fucking her started speeding up, she remembered...

Getting to school only barely on time, her bus having to take a detour due to bad roads...

Reaching her locker, only to find the corridor blocked off by the janitor, trying to find a faulty sewage line...

Heading to her other locker, to put away her stuff and make it to class...

Her new friend, made over Christmas break, finding her at lunch and telling her about a thing she needed to try...

Getting handed a drink, already opened, some new soda being sold...

The feeling of fuzziness that came over her after drinking, her 'friend' laughing at her with some other people...

Emma showing up, taking her away to somewhere else, some boys following...

Emma telling her that this was for her own good, that this had to happen so she could become a real women...

Getting undressed, head clouded, letting the boys grope and squeeze and fondle...

The first penetration, and the next, and the next, over and over...

The sound of the Three Bitches, laughing in the distance, and the grunts and moans of too many men to count...

And now it all came back to her, as her current rapist came, locking himself deep inside her, hips jerking as he came inside, like all the others.

She was being gang raped, and it was all Emma's fault.

This wasn't... She couldn't... It's not...

And though the mind is shuttered, and the flesh is willing, a spark may still form...

'Emma. I'm going to kill you for this.'

[DESTINATION]

[AGREEMENT]

Low

(Автор: Jcogginsa)

1.1

The first time it happened, it was at my own house. I had invited her over to try and reconnect. I wasn't happy when she asked if Madison could come too, but I didn't want to say know to her. We had school-off, so we were home alone. We had just gotten into my room when it happened. My best friend kissed me, deeply. I was stunned. It was a dominating kiss, and like the slut I was I let her take full control.

While that happened, Madison blindfolded me. My friend shoved me to the ground and when I tried to say something, she covered my mouth with her hand and said "Sluts don't get to talk. Strip."

It was all so confusing, but if I was being honest, I loved it. For weeks I'd been fantasizing about something like this. Being forced to the ground and taken like a cheap whore. I'd never expected her to be the one to do it, but I welcomed it. After how pathetic I'd been, it was what I deserved.

So I stripped off my clothes, until I wore nothing but my own socks, and then my hands were handcuffed behind my back. As second pair of cuffs went on my ankles, and any fleeting hope escape was gone.

My best friend bent me over my own bed, and told be to lie still. I heard her take her clothes off, and then some other sound a couldn't identify. Then I felt it. Something prodding my ass. My best friend was going to fuck me up the ass on my own bed.

But she hesitated, and then leaned over me, and whispered in my ear "Listen up, this is the only choice i'm gonna give you. There's two ways this can play out. One way is that me and Madison leave and pretend this never happened. I don't fuck you and come Monday things go back to normal between us. The other way is that I fuck you right now, and you become Mine, understood? I own you, body and soul. I fuck you whenever I want, and You submit to me. You stop rubbing one out in secret whenever you get chewed out by a teacher, you stop sucking dick in the 3rd floor bathroom, and you stop posting pics of your chest on line. Now pick one?"

I didn't need to think "Oh god, fuck me Taylor. Fuck me."

1.2

It wasn't like I expected. It wasn't warm, and it was slippery. But still, I was being fucked. Really fucked, in the ass, like a whore.

It was harsh. It was rough. It felt good but it hurt. It hurt bad, and I wanted it to stop. But at the same time, I knew I deserved it. I deserved that pain

"You like it, don't you bitch?" Madison whispered in my ear

"Oh god yes." I moaned wantonly.

Taylor began spanking my ass, and Madison chuckled. "You only have one god. A goddess, and she's too busy fucking you to hear you."

I moaned again, my breath ragged.

Madison grabbed by hair, painfully pulling me up. I felt something hot and wet in my face, and I began to lick it. It tasted different than semen, better on the first taste. I remembered gagging the first time I took a load of a guy's cum in my mouth. The taste had been awful. But if it hadn't disgusted me those first few times, I probably wouldn't have made it part of my day. Now, everyday I would go up the third floor girl's room during lunch. Early on I had to bring the guys there, but now they knew to linger there. All 3 of my regulars were on the bottom of the social rung. The kind of guys who deserved to be on the bottom rung.

Every day I'd strip in front of them, get down on my knees and suck them off in a stall. I swallowed each load. I redressed out of the stalls. Anyone coming in could see me. I was disappointed no one had.

Madison's taste was different, but I wouldn't say it was good. Just a different kind of unpleasent.

"Damn, you're a natural born whore aren't?" Madison chuckled "You get to work right away. You know what you're good for. Well, not good. You suck at this, just like you suck at everything. Being a whore is just something you suck less at."

She laughed, and I ate it up, as i ate her out. But I felt Taylor suddenly stop fucking me.

"Ow!" I heard Madison say, before I heard a resounding smack.

"You. Do. Not. Insult. My. Property. You. Whore!" Taylor said angrily, each word punctuated with another slap. I felt her pull out, and heard a thud as she pulled Madison off the bed. A few seconds later, I felt Madison's face get shoved between my ass cheeks.

"You're no better than she is. Now kiss and make up."

I could feel her do it. Feel her lips on My gaping ass. I then felt something else. A loud sound escaped, and my face went red. Madison recoiled from it, but Taylor began to laugh, and pushed her face back in.

Taylor spoke, in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Madison, you're gonna use that whore tongue of yours to clean Emma's butt while I fuck yours. Emma, don't get the wrong idea, because you're cleaning her when I'm done."

1.3

The crop came down hard on my ass, another in long stream of punishing swats.

"39. Think you for punishing this slut, Mistress." I said breathlessly, and another strike came down

It had been a week since I became Taylor's bitch. School was over, and we were in the girl's locker room. I was naked except for my shoes.

After I thanked her for the fiftieth blow, she pushed the tip of the crop into my ass, and leaned over me.

"Did you learn your lesson bitch?" Taylor asked.

"Yes Mistress Taylor. I'll never use your property again."

Taylor owned me. Who I fucked, who I sucked, that was her decision. It was stupid of me to think I could still get away with sucking the guys in the bathroom off. That was why I was here, getting my ass beat while Madison gave the coach a Blowjob as payment for looking the other way

"Good. Now get dressed. Me and my dad are eating over at your place tonight, and we need to get home."


* * *

That night, as I lay in my bed, I had the dream again.

It always started the same. The accident. The ABB. My pants being pulled off as I was frozen in fear. But the dream wasn't what had happened, it was what should have happen. My father didn't get get hurt trying to save me. He didn't even try. He watched, and cheered, as they pushed my naked body against the hot, coarse asphalt, and raped me. Tore me apart and covered me in cum.

Then they left me there, and I lay alone. No one gave me help I didn't deserve. No one even acknowledged I was there.

Like always, My panties were soaked when I woke up


* * *

The three of us went to the boardwalk the next day, a Saturday. It was like a normal day. But the whole time, I felt guilty. Madison noticed, and lead us to a stall we'd never been to before. A place where to people could fuck, no questions asked, for 20 bucks.

Once me and Taylor were inside, she asked what was wrong. I confessed everything. How I had cum in my bed without her permission, and what had caused it.

I could see she was angry. She was shaking in rage at my disobedience. "Emma." She said tersely. "Do you think you are worthless?"

It was a surprising question but one with an easy answer.

"Yes."

She backhanded me. I was shocked. Taylor had never slapped or backhanded me before. I had jealously watched her smack Madison so many times that it was practically a greeting between them.

She grabbed me by the hair and pulled me close "Listen up. You are not Worthless, understood? You have worth. I want you to know this, and burn it into your soul. You matter."

"But-"

"Shut up. I'm the one in charge, and I say you matter, end of discussion."

I didn't know what to say to that. I didn't know what to say when she hugged me. I just didn't know.

Mutagenic Burritos

(Автор: JustForLurking)

Ever woken up late in the morning after eating a bad batch of chilly the night prior? Yeah, that's what I'm feeling like right now.

To be more specific, I feel like puking my guts out and that everything else was recovering from burn trauma.

Last time I attend a Mexican themed block party. Seriously, If I ever see that burrito guy, he's spider chow.

Family recipe my ass.

"Urgh," I half grunt, half moan as I turn and twist in bed, feeling the bed covers unglue themselves of my sweaty back. I really don't want to get up, but I have to. I can't afford to drop my jogging regime just a month in.

Something deep in my gut shifted with a resounding growl.

...Then again, I might not be in the best condition to exercise. "Hrrg..." I shift again, rolling one eighty and bringing my knees to my chest, trying to find a comfortable position. It's not easy, let me tell you. Every position I try relieves some parts of my body, but others get worse. And the stick my pants doesn't help.

... Wait, what?

I fight the nausea and slide until I'm leaning on the back of my bed. I hunt down my glasses and put them on; only to drop them again in surprise.

There is something big tenting my pants. So big that the elastic waist of my old pajama bottoms was stretching above my skin to contain it.

I put my glasses back on, and carefully hooked my thumbs under the elastic. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. Taking a deep breath and biting my lip, I decided to go for it. In a single quick movement I peeled down my pants.

A dick sprang forth.

I stared dumbly -what else could I do?— at the piece of meat still swaying merrily. It is big; little over nine inches long and about one and a half thick. My eyes track from top to bottom and back up, looking for anything that would tell me it was fake. It looks real, from the bulbous head and the foreskin still gripping at the edge, down the gently curved shaft where it finally merged seamlessly just above my pussy.

I reach, lightly running a fingertip over the head. A familiar tingle travels down it, making me twitch.

That's when the penny finally dropped and I realize that there's a fucking penis where there isn't supposed to be. So then I do what any sensible girl would do: Recoil from it and scream bloody murder.

"Taylor!" my dad yells as he crashes through the door, wooden bat ready to go. "What's wrong?" he asks, frantically looking to and fro. He zeroes in on me. "Are you..." he trails off, noticing my very obvious addition. "...What?"

"I don't know!" I answer hysterically. "I woke up and it was there!"

"Taylor, this a very poor prank."

"I swear it-" my stomach decided that it would be a good moment to remind me that bad Mexican food and stress don't mix very well. "Hurgh!"

My dad is instantly by my side, holding my hair out of the way. "We're going to the hospital," he states as I finish dry heaving. I nod, not trusting my words or my stomach.

We hastily dressed, and within minutes we are driving at top speed towards Brockton General.


* * *

Plot is some asshole tinker thought it would be funny to spike burritos with mutagens. Mutations range from slight skin tone change, down to some life threatening stuff. Panacea is working to reverse everything, but the number of patients means Taylor will have her new friend for a while. Might expand on it further, but anybody is free to it.

How To Train Your Pet (Sophia)

(Автор: kamenhero25)

Sophia's eyes opened slowly and she winced against the light. He head was throbbing and her body ached. It took her a few moments to remember what the hell was happening. She'd been out on patrol when she'd seen one of the Undersiders running into an alley, the bug one, Skitter. She'd followed after her only to find that the super villain had seemingly disappeared as soon as she slipped down the alley. Then something had pressed against her back and a high powered Taser had shocked her into unconsciousness. The memory suddenly snapped her back to full consciousness and she realized that her hands and feet were bound, pulling her into a rough spread eagle pose in the middle of a room. She was also wearing nothing other than her mask and cowl, leaving her naked from the neck down. "Oh, that fucking bitch," she said, pulling against her bonds. She tried to phase through them, only to scream as another electric shock surged through her body, nearly knocking her out again.

"I wouldn't do that," a cold female voice said. Skitter walked into Sophia's view, wearing nothing other than her own mask and knee-high boots and elbow-length gloves that seemed to be made of the same material as her usual armor. "The cuffs on your wrists are electrified. And I have plans that would be much more fun with you conscious."

Sophia could guess what these `plans' were, given their outfits. "Oh you fucking dyke," she growled. "Let me go. I'm not playing this game with you."

Skitter paused, looking her over, like she was waiting for something, but Sophia didn't say anything else. She just stared into Skitter's eyes, their two emotionless masks revealing nothing of either girl's thoughts. Finally, Skitter walked around behind Sophia again and a moment later she heard the sound something slapping against Skitter's glove. A moment later, there was a sharp slap on her ass, making her jump in her bonds and yelp. "Do you like my new toy?" Skitter asked. An arm curled around her shoulder and Sophia could feel the other girl's warm body against her as she held a cat-o-nine-tails out in front of Sophia. "I got it just for you."

"For me," Sophia repeated dumbly, her eyes locked on the toy.

"Yes for you," Skitter repeated. "I wanted something to punish you with."

"Punish me." Sophia's brain took a moment to reboot. She pulled at the bonds on her hands again, but they refused to budge. "No, fuck this. Let me go!"

Skitter didn't respond beyond stepping back and delivering another strike on Sophia's ass. "You can't escape it," she said softly. "You've been a very naughty girl and someone needs to give you what you deserve. Now you're going to pay for everything you've done."

Sophia hissed as the toy hit her again. "What gives you the right to punish me for anything?"

Skitter paused. "Nothing. Just like nothing gives you the right to hunt down criminals with a lethal weapon. I'm doing it because it needs to be done, just like you. So I'm going to make sure you learn your lesson."

Sophia screamed as the next hit came twice as hard, followed by three more blows of equal force. Her ass was starting to hurt and, as much as she hated to admit it, there was a pleasant tingling feeling building between her legs. "I am so fucked up," she thought, biting her lip to prevent another cry as Skitter deliver two more hits.

"That will do for a warm-up," Skitter said.

Sophia's head snapped up. "Wait, what?!"

Skitter walked back around her, and Sophia could just feel the smug smile that she just knew was under her mask. "Yes pet, a warm-up." She reached out and ran her hand along Sophia's shoulder, flicking against the bottom of her mask. "It would hardly be a punishment if I was going to make it easy for you." She delivered a slap to Sophia's breasts. "I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you confess everything you've done to me while I punish you." She delivered another slap on Sophia's breasts. "Do you understand?"

Sophia wished that she could spit at her, but her mask didn't have a hole for her mouth. "Bite me. I don't have anything to say to you."

Skitter's posture didn't change and Sophia could imagine the look of amusement on her face. "Oh pet, we both know that's not true." She stepped in closer, making her captive flinch back as much as her bonds would allow. "We both know that you're a thug and a killer." One of her hands slipped down between Sophia's legs, running two fingers along her damp pussy. "And apparently a slut too." She held up her glove, glistening with Sophia juices. "So don't pretend you don't know what you've done." She brought the toy down on Sophia's breasts again.

Sophia took a deep breath, shaking slightly. Skitter's cool composure was putting her off balance. "I'm fucking violent," she said, almost whispering. "I send almost all of my captures to the hospital." Skitter brought the crop down on her breasts again. "I broke a gang banger's jaw just because I could." Again. "I kicked his friend into a dumpster, broke his arm." Again. "And I fucking enjoyed it." Three more hard ones in rapid succession.

Skitter seemed unimpressed, calmly circling her prey. The next strike hit the center of Sophia's back. "I'm a slut." A little lower. "I like to suck off guys at school." Lower still. "Sometimes I lick pussies instead." Lower, teasingly close to her ass. "I love tasting cum and pussy juices, any kind." Outright slapping her ass. "I get so wet being used." Six hard strikes, three on each ass cheek.

"There's more slut." Skitter was suddenly in front of her again, emotionless yellow lenses staring straight into her eyes. "You've done more."

"There's too much," Sophia said, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice. "I can't..."

Skitter slapped her across the face, though her mask took most of the blow. "You're a bully slut. I know what you've done."

Sophia whimpered. "Please..."

Skitter stood impassive, empty eyes judging her. Then the next strike hit her stomach. "I'm a bully," Sophia choked out. Another strike on her stomach. "I hurt people because it makes me feel strong." Another strike, right on her abs. "There's a girl..." She paused, gasping for breath. "I hurt her so much." The next strike hit her thigh. "Stole from her." Other thigh. "Pushed her around." Straight on her pussy. Sophia screamed at the wet sound, feeling a surge of pain in her dripping slit. "Shoved her into a..." Her breath hitched. "I..." Her voice caught, not able to get it out. "Protectorate!" A shaking sob escaped her lips and her body shuddered.

Skitter's whip dropped to the ground and she jumped forward, catching Sophia's head between her hands. "Sophia," she said, her voice gentle. "Sophia, it's alright." She pulled of Sophia's mask, revealing tears beginning to leak down her cheeks. Taylor pulled off her own mask looking her straight in the eyes. "Sophia, look at me."

Sophia's breath hitched again and she looked up at Taylor. "I'm sorry," she whispered between sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Taylor wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. "Shhh, sweetie, it's alright. I forgave you Sophia." Sophia whimpered still sobbing into Taylor's shoulder. "I needed to hear you let it out. I'm sorry. I pushed too hard, too fast." She reached for the bonds. "It's okay. We're done for today."

Sophia's breathe shuddered, but she managed to get control of her sobs. "No," she gasped. "No, not yet." Taylor paused. "I... I need to... need to get over who I used to be. Stop hiding, stop being weak."

Taylor cupped her chin. "I'm sorry," she repeated, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "You never want to talk about what... what things used to be like between us. I needed to hear you... I guess I needed to hear your thoughts on it. I couldn't keep letting it sit like the elephant in the room."

Sophia nodded slowly. "Fuck. It's just... I hate it. I hate that I used to have to be a bully to stay strong. I hate that I hurt you." She finally recovered her voice fully, but was panting slightly. "Thank you. Thank you for punishing me mistress."

Taylor stepped back at the last word. "Are you sure you want to keep going today?"

Sophia nodded. "Yes mistress. Please, I want to keep going."

Taylor nodded, but didn't pick up the whip again. "Very well pet." She reached up and ran her hands over Sophia's breasts. "I think you've handled your punishment very well. So you've earned a reward for being such a good girl." Her hands moved down over her stomach, pausing to caress Sophia's firm abs. Taylor loved Sophia's tight athletic body. "Tell me how much you need it pet." Her fingers brushed against the outside edges of Sophia's pussy lips.

"Please use your fingers mistress." Sophia looked into Taylor's eyes. "Please, I'm so horny."

Taylor smirked. "Such a naughty pet, getting this wet from being punished." She slipped one finger into Sophia pussy. "Mmmm, so wet for me." She began to pump her finger, then added a second. "Do you like it pet?"

Sophia moaned as Taylor played with her pussy. "Yes," she gasped. "Feels so good..."

Taylor's smile grew even larger. "I bet it does pet." She added a third finger and shifted her thumb up to rub against Sophia's clit. Sophia threw her head back and let out a loud moan at the touch. "Are you going to cum for me? Are you going to cum on my hand?"

"Yesssss," Sophia hissed, gritting her teeth and trying to control her body.

Taylor's hand began to move faster and her thumb relentlessly ground against her pet's clit. "Then cum slut. Let it all out."

Sophia's body tensed and she screamed as her orgasm hit hard, making her back arch and her head fall back as her pussy spasmed around Taylor's fingers. "Mistress!" Taylor didn't stop as the climax hit, finger fucking her straight through her orgasm and drawing out the pleasure as long as she could. Finally, Sophia slumped in her bonds, breathing heavily and trembling slightly as she tried to recover from the pleasure overload.

Taylor released Sophia's ankles, then her hands, almost causing the now freed super hero to drop to the ground as her legs tried to give out. Sophia managed to catch herself before Taylor could intervene, ending up on her hands and knees with her face inches from Taylor's very wet pussy. "Oh, it looks like you're reading my mind pet," Taylor said. "While you're down there, thank your mistress for giving you your punishment and your reward." She spread her pussy lips with one hand.

Sophia looked up and just nodded. She crawled between Taylor's legs, then pressed her tongue against the offered pussy. She began to lap at her juices, slowly licking and sucking at her pussy for a few moments before pushing her tongue inside and pressing her lips against Taylor's wetness. Taylor moaned happily at the contact. "You're delicious mistress," she said as she paused. "Thank you for letting me taste you." She dove back in, licking faster and harder and flicking her tongue up to run around Taylor's clit every few moments.

Taylor's moans grew louder and she grabbed the back of Sophia's head, forcing her tightly against her pussy. "Yes!" she cried out. "Fuck, faster. Make your mistress cum slut!" Only a moment later, she came hard, squirting a fountain of juices and flooding Sophia's mouth with her girl cum. Sophia coughed a recoiled slightly, but only succeeded in getting Taylor's juices all over her face as well. Taylor panted, recovering from the powerful climax. "Very well done pet." She leaned over, kissing Sophia's forehead. "I'm very proud of you."

Taylor helped Sophia stand and led her out of the room. The next room had a sofa with a fold out bed already in place and covered in pillows and comfortable blankets. An end table with several bottles of water and a bowl of warm water with a wash cloth was sitting at the end, with a bottle of soothing lotion beside it. "Taylor," Sophia said softly. She leaned over and kissed her lover and mistress on the lips. "Thank you."

Taylor smiled. "You're welcome pet." She helped Sophia to the bed and let the dark skinned girl lay back. She took the wash cloth and gently cleaned her face, then took the lotion and began to rub it down Sophia's body, running it over the whip marks on her breasts and stomach. "Turn over dear." Sophia obediently flipped allowing Taylor to rub down her back. The motions were small and precise, focusing on the dark marks from the cat, Sophia felt a small warmth radiating from wherever Taylor touched her. It was a comforting feeling. "I love you pet," Taylor whispered in her ear as she finished rubbing the lotion into Sophia's back.

Sophia smiled as she rolled over again. "I love you too mistress."

Taylor smiled back. "Cheesy movies and cuddling?"

Sophia laughed. "You have to ask?"

Mahou Shoujo Mystical Prism

(Автор: Sol Mark-1)

In a normal house that belonged to the Hebert family in Brockton Bay around midnight, a strange white creature that looked similar to a white hermine with some gems around its body was exploring the house, he saw a a strange lab, and some magic books, scrolls, and a wierd diagram.

"Vivifer?, ancient gods?, Velorien?"

It was interested in those things, but it had a job in the house, it slowly opened a door to a room, and found two adults sleeping, it closed the door silently, it explored the house more and found another bedroom, it opened the door and found a little girl with long hair that was sleeping in her bed with a black stuffed rabit (the information told him that is how human females looked), it entered the room, closed the door, put a spell around the room so the noice could not awoke her parents, and woke up the girl.

"Hello little girl, don't be afraid."

Taylor woke up surprised, and scared.

" Please don't scream."

Taylor screamed, and the hermine was forced to close her mouth, and inmovilise her with some magical ribbons that it summoned.

"Sorry for doing this little one, but I need you to hear me -insert cliche mahou shoujo backstory-, so do you want to be a protector of love & justice?

"EH?"

"Do you want to have powers?"

"Like the capes?"

"Yeah something like that (not as fucked in the head), do accept?"

"Of course."

"Then have this and say this words, Mystical prism activate"

"Mystical Prism activate", Taylor was surronded by a light, and she was now wearing a beautiful dress."

"That dress really fits you girl"

"But I'm a boy."

"EH?"


* * *

The ferret never expected that the chosen one was a boy instead of a girl, but what it didn't expected is that he really liked wearing the dress.

T: I love it!, I love it!

F: (With a sweat drop) But you are a boy, why would you like to wear a dress?

T: Because it's cute.

F: Ok?, so now that we have solved this issue, you should sleep.

T: But I want to use my new po — "Taylor falls sleep".

F: Fuck how I hate working with kids, but at the same time I like to work with them, they don't ask important questions, maybe tomorrow I will train him.

The Ferret goes to sleep under Taylor's bed.

-Some days of training later—

F: OK now that you have trained, and chosen your mask, now it is time that you begin to attack the forces of evil.

T: But—

F: Don't worry Taylor we will begin with something easy, so now Transform

T: Ok, Mystical Prism activate.

-Insert magical girl transformation—

F: Taylor, the enemy is in the docks.

T: Ok -Taylor began to fly, and activated the magical power of invisibility—

When they arrive they saw some small brown humanoid creatures beating some gang members.

T: Stop it.

F: Tactical genius, Prism

The humanoid creatures and promptly went to attack Taylor.

M: For da Overlord.

F: Prism attack them they are just projections.

T: Ok.

-uses laser of do — "firendship", eliminates all the monsters, freeing some lights from them, that the ferret quickly devours.

F: Prism we need to go.

They leave

Gang member: What the fuck?

Gang member 2: I don't know but at least our clothes were cleaned.

Gang member 3: The police, run!

Nobody noticed that a mechanical spider was taking the only surviving humanoid being.

-Several days later in the PRT offices—

Piggot was discussing with some of the members of the Protectorate of Brockton Bay about the young cape that has been sighted fighting some "monsters", and dissapearing.

P: Now that we are here, and know what we are talking, what do you think about the parahuman designed Mystical Prism.

As: Seems she is a girl, Impressed that the gangs have not forced to join them, also she looks like a dream come true for ped— (battery elbows him)

B: Not now.

As: Ok puppy.

B: She is fast, and agile, We are not able to catch her.

M: If she triggered so young, her home life mustn't be a happy one.

Ar: She seems to distrust other people, but I have noticed she follows what the Ferret tolds her.

As: That ferret freaks a lot of people, so the real reason you called us Miss Pigg-(another elbow from Batery), and you where to ask us who would try to talk to her, also Glenn must be pleading that we recruit that cape for the Wards.

P: Yes.

D&D Night

(Автор: kamenhero25)

Lisa looked over the table while she pulled the books from her bag. "Okay, so did everyone level up their character after the last session? You should be level five now." There was a chorus of `yeses' from around the table. "Good, we're starting book two today so I hope you're all ready for some mysteries."

Aisha looked around. "Uh, we're still missing Rachel."

Lisa shrugged. "She said one of her dogs was sick and she can't make it."

Aisha groaned. "But she's our meat shield. Now we're going to have to rely on Taylor's creepy ass to keep us safe while I backstab mooks."

"Hey!" Taylor protested. "I'm not creepy."

Aisha leveled a glare at her. "Last time you demanded we take the Lamashtu worshipping cultist alive so you could sacrifice her to your demon lord instead and prove Deskari was superior."

Taylor looked at her blankly. "I don't see your point."

"And then you started moaning and asking for more when Brian conjured a cat-o-nine tails and started beating your ass with it for trying to sacrifice someone to a demon lord," Alec chimed in.

"I still don't see the problem here."

"And then he bent you over the altar to Lamashtu and fucked your ass for like twenty minutes so you could thoroughly desecrate the shrine," Aisha added.

"And?"

"Anyway..." Lisa cut in before the conversation went down a very familiar path. "Since Rachel isn't here tonight, I found a couple of people online who are interested in joining our group and having some fun."

"Did you warn them about the BDSM wizard and his girlfriend?" Aisha asked dryly.

"Hey, I'm a sorcerer," Brian muttered.

"They know that our group is adult and we have mature themes and events in our campaign," Lisa replied evenly.

"So you bullshitted them."

"Shut up." Lisa slapped the next book down a little harder than necessary. "Anyway, they're both online, so they'll be playing through Skype." Her computer beeped. "Actually, that's them now." She hit a couple of buttons and a projector rolled down on the wall behind her while a webcam on the table started up.

"When did you get the projector?" Aisha asked.

"Recently. Shut up." She fiddled with the computer for a minute. "Can you hear me? Everything coming in alright?"

A moment later, two faces appeared on the screen, each taking up half. The first was a slightly tired looking man with dark hair and a magnificently cared for beard. The second was a woman who had to put effort into looking as average as she did. Even her race was difficult to determine. "Hey there, Tin_Mother, HalBeard. How's it going?"

"I'm good, but you can call me Ryoko," the woman said with a small smile.

"Colin," the man said with a small wave. "I'm alright. A little tired. I was working overtime last night."

"Alright, well if you're both ready to go, we've got everything good on our end. Why don't we start with introductions so you can get to know your new party members? You're all in the Rusty Dragon Tavern in Sandpoint. The four town heroes have just been told that the sheriff has hired a few extra hands to help them with investigating an incident that he's been worried about."

Alec nodded. "Cool, well I'm at the counter getting breakfast and flirting with Ameiko."

Aisha jumped in. "I'm getting something to eat too and cleaning my knives."

Brian nods. "Alright, well I'm untying Taylor from the bed and putting my clothes on." Colin looked a little surprised and Ryoko just raised one eyebrow.

Taylor nodded enthusiastically. "Right, once he unties me, I get up and look for my clothes. `This changes nothing human. No matter how many times you tie me down and take me, you'll never shake my faith in my lord.' Then I get dressed and start my daily prayers for my spells."

"Right then. `Abyssal wench, you will learn your lesson one of these days, and I'll be happy to continue educating you until you do.' Then I head down to get something to eat."

Ryoko regained her voice first. "Okay then. While everyone is eating in the common room, a woman in a brightly colored dress comes in. She looks around the room and sees the group getting breakfast before approaching. `Greetings, I'm Anya Dragonfire, a historian and arcanist hired to aid you.' She takes a seat next to the man talking with the waitress."

Alec grinned. "Cool. I offer you my hand. `Kyrus Zandu. Traveling bard, troublemaker, and apparently local hero.' He gives her a little smile."

"I take your hand. `Pleasure to meet you. Is this all of your friends?' She gestures to the others in the room."

"Nah," Aisha chimes in. "Our cleric is upstairs doing her praying thing. I'm Shelia. No family name. I do a bit over everything. Stealing, robbing, sneaking, stabbing, you know."

Ryoko raises an eyebrow. "A pleasure to meet you as well."

Colin cleared his throat. "While everyone is getting to know each other, a man in a burnished breastplate comes in. He's carrying a halberd across his back and looks around, examining everyone in the room before walking toward the group. `Good morning. I must assume you're the adventurers I'm to aid. You may call me Reginald Ironarms, former master-at-arms for the city watch in Magnimar, and now a mercenary of sorts.' He offers a hand as well."

"A pale man in dark robes shakes your hand," Brian cuts in. "He seems rather well built for a wizard. `Greetings. I am Markus Aerodus. I'm a travelling sorcerer and illusionist.' He offers you a seat."

Lisa smiled. "Great, so you all get your meals and are chatting over breakfast. Taylor, your morning prayers are done and your lord replenishes your spells."

"Great, I head down to get food too then. You all see a pink skinned woman in white robes with golden trim and and olive green sash coming down the stairs with a scythe on her back."

"Alright, you see your friends at the table with two newcomers."

"I go take a seat and look over the new arrivals. `Good day. I didn't realize you would arrive so early. I was performing my prayers to Lord Deskari.' I start eating."

Ryoko frowned. "I roll knowledge religion. That's... twenty-two. Do I know who that is?"

Lisa sighed. "Deskari is the demon lord of locusts and plagues. He's famous for opening the Worldwound and launching the biggest demon invasion in Golarion's history."

"Anya looks very concerned for a moment. `Anya, good to meet you.' She offers a hand with a bit of a forced smile."

"I shake it. `Good to meet you. I am Missira, a priestess of my lord. And your friend?' She looks at the other man critically, clearing showing some distaste. It takes a moment to realize she's looking at his choice of weapon."

Colin shook himself and looked a little confused. "Right, I'm Reginald Ironarms of Magnimar. A pleasure."

"She shakes your hand too if you offer it. `Tell me, are either of your strong of faith.' Her eyes are clearly watching you closely."

"Err, I offer prayers to Nethys. His teachings encourage magical learning and knowledge."

"Ah, a spell caster. Of course," Taylor looks up at Colin's face. "And you?"

Colin looks slightly uncomfortable. "Uh, I'm not very religious."

Taylor smiled. "Have you considered..."

"Markus slams his hand against the table. `Enough. I've warned you against spreading your Abyssal heresies.' I grapple Missira and push her down so she'd bent over the table."

Lisa groaned. "Do you resist?" She sounded almost hopeful.

"Of course not," Taylor said. "He's much too strong for me to escape. `Curse you shadow caster. You cannot stop me forever.' She flails ineffectually."

"He laughs. `It seems you didn't learn your lesson last time. Perhaps you need a reminder.' His free hand reaches down and pulls up Missira's skirt."

"Missira moans and pushes her hips back, lifting her round ass in the air and spreading her legs slightly to make more room for Markus's strong hands to punish her."

Colin looked slightly flushed, though Ryoko simply looked bemused. "Do they do this often?" the woman asked.

Lisa groaned and slammed her head against the table.

A Little Beginning (NWoD)

(Автор: kamenhero25)

A little beginning to the Worm/NWoD crossover.


* * *

I stared out over the shattered iron husks of the Boat Graveyard. The cold January wind blew over the bay, sending my hair flying behind me. At least, I think it was cold. It was supposed to be in January. I pulled her hood up, more to keep my hair in check than to ward off a chill, and started walking. No one came here in the winter, or at least they found shelter somewhere in one of the abandoned buildings or warehouses, or even one of the wrecks beached well enough to get in without going through the water. I stopped at the shoreline. Dad would kill me for being out here. Four days in the hospital getting over the locker. They'd wanted to keep me longer, psych evaluations, dealing with the trauma. I'd refused.

I'd been unconscious when they found me apparently. Out from a near-fatal case of blood poisoning when the janitor decided to clock out early and I'd been left in the locker overnight.

`Near' fatal. Funny.

Dad had bargained me to seeing a therapist, but unless the school forked over more settlement money we weren't going to be able to afford the cost of more than a session or two. The doctors had eventually let me go without further checks, but they kept suggesting that trauma isn't so easy to get over.

If only they knew.

I took a deep breath, embracing the silence and the dead feeling of the Graveyard. I closed my eyes and dropped my hood again, letting the cold air surge around me. Then I extended myself, letting the cold air become part of me. Or maybe I became part of the cold air. I couldn't tell sometimes. I felt my senses extend around me. Only twenty meters or so. But it was enough. I could tell I was alone. Or as alone as I could be anymore.

"Are you satisfied?"

She didn't answer me. I wasn't surprised. She didn't speak much. I could hear words now and then, a whisper or a plea, but usually it was feeling. As I embraced the emptiness, I felt calm from her and a little acceptance. We were alone. We'd always be alone. But that was okay. We were always together.

"Ready to go home?"

A cool sense of isolation settled into my chest. As far as I could tell, it was her way of saying yes.

"Okay."

I turned and walked away from the shore, letting the cold wind rush around me again.

Succubus Taylor

(Автор: Metallix666)

1.1

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why did I bring it to school? I should have known Emma and her friends would find it. My locker wasn't safe, I knew that but I just couldn't put the stupid thing down.

I paced up and down the girls bathroom while I tried to control the panic. I'd brought the book to school with me today, I'd hoped to find some time to read it during lunch but now Emma had it.

Having a book to read was nothing unusual for me. Ever since Emma had turned on me, along with most of the school, I didn't have much else to do but read. The problem was the subject of the book.

When I'd picked it up, I just thought it was a generic Science fiction story and the synopsis on the back had been interesting enough for me to buy it. What the cover didn't mention was aside from the interesting characters and battles to save the galaxy was steamy, toe curling sex scenes between the lead and her lover. Dad nearly walked in on me twice!

It's not like I could just go home. They would only be waiting for me when I finally returned!

I need to calm down, I moved to the sink and tried washing my face. Panicking wouldn't help any. Putting my glasses back on, I looked at myself in the mirror.

Tall, stick thin with a too wide mouth. The most feminine thing about me was my hair and even then, stress was starting to take its toll. I'd been forced to shorten it a bit after someone singed it.

In a fit of anger, I punched the mirror in front of me. The mirror cracked and pain shot up my arm. Blood was already starting to run between my fingers, I quickly turned the tap on and stuck my hand under the water.

I let out a small hiss and started trying to clean the wound, still cursing Emma and my life. Oddly, I felt better. Actually, I felt good. Really, really good.

As Lita deftly sutured the wound with practiced movements,

London bit her lip, holding back the moans of ecstasy.

A passage from the book came to mind and I giggled slightly. Either I was suddenly a masochist or adrenaline was making me giddy.

The feeling of warmth was starting to spread through my body, pooling between my legs. More passages came to mind, mixing with the pain, anger and frustration. I should be panicking, something was clearly wrong with me but it just felt so good.

As the heat built between my legs, I grabbed the sink for support. That's when I saw the markings on the back of my hands. They looked like scales and as I watched, I could see them growing more visible. The skin around them paling to a grey colour. What is this?

I screwed my eyes shut and tried to block out the warmth. I had to stop, What if someone came through the door? I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning.

The warmth shifted and I could feel my chest pressing against my clothes. the shifting cloth sending sparks of electricity through my body. My clothes were starting to pinch and pull in places, the feeling only pushed me further.

My back twitched and I heard the sound of tearing cloth. I was nearing my limit, everything felt wrong but so good and the fire in my body was drowning out everything but the delicious feelings in my core that was edging ever closer. The world went white.

The release hit with all the force of a bomb and I struggled to stay standing, the sink was the only thing keeping me standing.

By the time I could think straight, I was still breathing heavily and everything felt different. My clothes were pinching me and I could feel a draft across my torso. Slowly, I opened my eyes and gasped at what I saw.

I'm huge!

The girl looking back at me was part Barbie doll, part fitness instructor with some lizard thrown in. I slowly moved my eyes downwards as I studied my reflection.

My skin was pale, bordering on grey but with a healthy shine. The colour made my now red eyes stand out and there was a glowing ring in each eye.

I had horns on the sides of my head. They curled forward and down so the point was level with my mouth. There were dark scales on my forehead, the same colour as my horns, that ran down the the bridge of my nose where they came to a point. I had more following the line of my jaw, touching my cheek and running down my neck.

When I brought my hand up to touch them, they felt smooth and soft, yielding like skin. there were more on my hands, starting just before my knuckles and running up my arms.

That brought my attention to the other changes. My figure had filled out drastically and I could see faint traces of muscle when I moved. My shirt and bra were nothing but rags, but it wasn't my chest that had destroyed them. It was my wings.

Bat-like and the same unnatural black colour my hair had gone, they didn't look big enough to hold my weight but I suspected I still fly anyway. Turning to look at them revealed another change. I had a tail!

It started at the base of my spine and reached to just past my calf's.

"Fuck!" I muttered. Even my voice was different, I sounded more like mum.

I lost track of time staring at myself in the mirror and the sound of shouting outside broke me out of my thoughts and kicked my brain into gear. I was standing topless in the middle of the school looking like something from a fantasy game! My blush nearly covered my entire torso.

I needed to get home, My pants were tight but they would survive. My hoodie was on the floor near my bag...-yea...not happening,— there was no way I was getting that on my wings and boobs.

Maybe If I covered my face I could just run for it? Get to the roof and see if I could fly? No one one recognise me... I gave myself another glance in the mirror before giving up on that idea.

My face had changed but not that much, I was still recognisable -even if no one would be looking at my face— Maybe I could...I tried moving my wings. Maybe they would be flexible enough for me to wrap them round my body. It would help I could look like— Whoa!

My wings stretched round my body, taking on a shadowy appearance as they did so. As they moved, my body shifted and I found myself look like I did this morning. I'm a shapeshifter?

This had potential. the only thing missing were my glasses. I frowned when I realised I hadn't even noticed their loss. I found them sitting in the sink and quickly put them back on. Thankfully, everything was just as clear with them as it now was without.

Could I make myself look like other people? I focused and my body shifted. Emma stared back at me from the mirror. A small part of me noted that I was now bigger than her. Emma smiled, now this had potential. I could even use this to get my book back.

I was just deciding on a plan when the door opened.

"Emma?" the girl asked, "I thought you were with Sophia?" She was one of the interchangeable people that followed Emma everywhere these days.

"Oh...um" I struggled to cover my surprise or even remember her name. In the end, I shrugged, "canteen food, what can you do?"

"Ugh, Tell me about it," she said as locked herself in one of the stalls.

Not wanting to hang around, I grabbed my bag and gave the stall a quick glance. I shifted back to normal and walked outside. I soon abandoned my plans to recover my book, there was a strong draft in the corridor and I realised that my shirt was only an illusion.

Blushing, I quickly made my way outside. I needed to get home. school shut for winter break after today, that gave me two weeks to find some new clothes and possibly tell Dad about this.

Not wanting to risk someone bumping into me on the bus I decided to jog home. Despite being mid-winter, I barely noticed the temperature.

I was barely halfway home when I realised something. I could shapeshift, I barely felt the cold and I wasn't even winded from the run. I had powers, I was a cape! I couldn't help but laugh.

Dad's truck was on the drive when I got home, the docks must have shut early for the holidays. I tried to not make too much noise when I opened the back door but Dad was sitting at the kitchen table with some paperwork.

He looked up as I came in, "Taylor, what are you doing home?" He said in surprise.

I quickly, racked my brain for an excuse but before I could, he frowned.

"Taylor, why are you wearing a glamor?"


* * *

1.2

"A-a glamour? I-I don't know what you mean, I'm fine!" I frantically tried to think of something to say. Dad could tell it was an illusion? Did that mean he could see me — topless?? Oh god!— Wait, why did he call it a glamor? Wasn't that a type of magic?

Did that mean my shapeshifting was magic and not a parahuman ability? Everyone knew magic was real. There were at least three magic users in the Protectorate but nobody knew how you went about learning it or why only some people could use it.

Dad stood up and walked towards me, I tried to back away but that would mean being back outside. He put a hand on my shoulder and I couldn't stop myself from flinching.

Realisation dawned and his expression shifted from concerned to surprised and finally a sad smile, "Oh Taylor, I'm so sorry. I never thought... wings?" I nodded and he sighed. He didn't hug me, thankfully, instead, he place both hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.

"Go get dressed, I'll explain everything, I promise."


* * *

Getting dressed was easier said than done.

By the time I made it back to my room, I was starting to feel a growing pressure in my body, like a tensed muscle. It wasn't unbearable but i'm not sure how long that would last. Relaxing, my body immediately shifted back to my other state.

It looked like this was my `real' or default appearance and I couldn't just stay transformed forever. I peeled the remains of my clothes off and tried to find something that would fit the `new' me. I quickly realised I would need new tops, jeans, new everything in fact.

My hips were too full for any of my jeans and my underwear was uncomfortably tight, not to mention my tail made it impossible for me pull them all the way up, so I went without. A pair of baggy tracksuit bottoms at least fit me, though being without underwear just felt weird and I'd need to be carefully about bending over but what could I do for a top?

I pulled out a couple of tops from my closet to try on. The first was a simple T-shirt. I had some trouble getting it passed my horns but with some careful positioning I managed it. I then ran into another problem — or was that 4 problems? — at the back, the shirt was caught up where my wings joined my back. And at the front, I had no real hope of stretching the shirt over my chest.

I tried anyway, twisting and flattening my wings in different, and mostly uncomfortable, ways. Trying to force myself into the shirt taught me two things. One, my body was much more sensitive than it used to be and two, I was possibly stronger. A miss timed tug tore the shirt at the front.

With a sigh,I removed its remains. There was a blouse on my bed but just looking at it gave me visions of popping buttons so I picked up the tracksuit jacket. If I moved my wings just right I could get it on and it was baggy enough that I could get it closed up front.

A look in the mirror however showed that I was clearly not wearing a top or bra of any kind. I wasn't sure I could sit like that infront of my Dad, never mind actually go shopping. What's worse, trapping my wings was really uncomfortable.

I was debating taking a pair of scissors to the back of my largest shirt when there was a knock on my door.

"Hey kiddo, I've got some of your Mom's things out here if you need them," Dad called out, "I'll be in the living room when you're ready."

I waited until I heard him reach the bottom of the stairs before I opened my door and pulled the box inside. I know Dad meant well but I couldn't see any of Mom's clothes fitting me.

She wasn't too different from how I used to look, in fact, I was a good bit taller than Mom.

Still, with nothing to lose I opened the box. My jaw very nearly hit the floor.

The clothes inside were not what I expected. Mom was always dressed fairly conservatively, she was a college professor after all. I'd expected a box of her old shirts or sweaters but sitting on the very top of the box was a corset — a quarter of a corset anyway.— there was lace across the top, parts were nearly see through.

I didn't know much about corsets but I got the impression this was meant for bedroom. Blushing to my toes, I moved the corset to the side and tried to find something a little more suitable.

As I dug through the clothes, it dawned on me that most of it tended towards the victorian look. Everything tended to be black or purple, Mom's favorite colour, with lace and ruffles. There was even a purple half cape with a ragged bottom. A white corset with black stipping was carefully wrapped up with a long blue dress.

Thinking back, I couldn't remember seeing Mom in any of these. Maybe they were from her time at university or her time with Lustrum? Another thing I realised was, the sizes were all wrong, being much larger in the bust and hips than I remembered Mom was and and almost everything was backless or had a low cut on the back.

Eventually, I found a shirt that fit me. Getting it on, however, was not easy. My horns kept getting caught on the shirt and then I struggled to get them through the collar. My wings were actually the easiest part. Moving them was no harder than lifting an arm and felt completely natural.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I realised I was standing differently. I couldn't really feel the weight of my horns, but they were there and I was aware of them. The wings especially were throwing my balance. Turning my back to the mirror I lifted the back of my shirt and made my wings twitch. I could see the muscles on my back shift and move with them.

It was only as I shifted back to my old appearance I realised I could have done so first and then gotten dressed. Remembering that for next time, I made my way down stairs.

Dad had carried a number of boxes up stairs while I was getting dressed. He was just struggling with a large one when I arrived. I moved to help him and ended up lifting the box, almost effortlessly, out of his hands.

Dad chuckled at my expression and showed me where to put the box. There was a strong smell coming from the boxes but I couldn't for the life of me describe what it was. It was like trying to explain the taste of purple. I also noticed a strong whiff of whiskey, there was a small glass of it on the table.

Opening one of the boxes, Dad pulled out a framed picture and stared at it, lost in thought, "Can... Can you show me?" he asked hesitantly.

I couldn't look him in the face. Keeping my head down, I relaxed, letting my body shift back. As it did so, I was forced to move forward a bit on the sofa, my wings and tail were going to make sitting an issue.

Dad let out a gasp, I couldn't stop myself from looking up at him. I'd expected to see fear but instead, Dad had that same sad smile. He held out the picture to me, "You look just like her," he said quietly.

My jaw dropped when I saw the photo. It was clearly an old picture, taken on a rooftop or something near sunset but what shocked me was the woman. She looked a lot like me, our skin and hair looked similar in colour and I could see the dark scales on her face and hands. Her horns were slightly different. Mine pointed down near my mouth but hers curled up.

What really shocked me was her face, "...Mom?" I asked, looking to Dad who nodded.

"yeah, that's Annette, your mother as she really looked."

I could feel my body shaking. This was Mom? what, how? why did I never know? I struggled to get my thoughts in order, to form something coherent.

A hand landed on my shoulder and I realised it was Dad. He was muttering something as he ran a hand through my hair. Eventually, I calmed down enough to ask.

"Why?" Why what? I wasn't really sure where to start or what I wanted to know.

Dad gave me another sad smile and sat down in the armchair in front of me.

"Let me start from the beginning. You, Taylor, are my daughter and nothing will ever change that."

He waited for me to nod before he continued, "Your mother was what most people would call a succubus," I tried to protest but Dad held up a hand to stop me, "No, not the evil soul sucking demons you've probably read about."

"Their actual history is complicated but I think there is a book in this lot somewhere that can explain it better. For now, I'll try to keep things simple..."

Dad wasn't great at explaining things but from what I could understand, Reality was like a bubble with lots of smaller bubbles inside of it. These smaller bubbles were pocket dimensions and they often overlapped or leaked into each other and Earth sat in the middle like an anchor.

One of these `pocket dimensions' are where Succubi came from. From what Dad knew, it was actually quite a nice, if hot, place.

"So, how did Mom get here?"

"She was summoned, it's not hard if you know what you are doing, and have enough power backing you up. I've done it myself a few times, but never anything on that level."

Wait, "You can use magic?"

Dad sighed and opened up another of the boxes, "Yeah, I fancied myself as quite the wizard once. That's actually how I met your mother." Reaching into the box, he pulled out a staff that was nearly as tall as him.

I stared open mouthed at him. There was no way that should have fit. Dad chuckled and laid the staff on the coffee table.

"Your mother was summoned to this world by Lustrum. She couldn't use magic but she knew about succubi and she was fascinated by their society. Succubi are all women," he explained, "naturally, this makes their society a matriarchy."

Lustrum had been a feminist cape years ago. At first she had only wanted equality and quickly built a large following of mostly college age girls. I didn't know the full story and Mom didn't like to talk about it but apparently things had escalated. Peaceful protests became violent and equality became subjugation. Eventually her followers started mutilating any man they could and while nobody knew if Lustrum supported it or not, she was willing to accept responsibility. In the end, she was sent to the birdcage and her followers disbanded.

I could see how an all female society would appeal to her but Mom always told me she left before things turned violent. Was that a lie?

"I'm not sure who did the actual summoning," Dad continued, "but your mother is the one they pulled through. Unlike normal summonings, they made no attempt to bind or control your mother. Lustrum just wanted to talk and Annette was a teacher at heart, even then. She stayed with Lustrum and answered her questions. When things started going bad, Annette argued against it. Eventually, she left to go her own way."

Dad paused to take a drink. I let everything he said sink in. it wasn't too different from what I already knew but it didn't answer the biggest question I had.

"Why did nobody tell me?"

Dad sighed, "It's complicated Kiddo. Part of it was simply because children can't keep secrets." He shot me a knowing look and I flushed with shame, I was six damn it!

"The other reason, was because we didn't want to upset you."

"Why would I be upset?"

"Because what you've done," he waved at my wings, "should be impossible. Succubi have a very low birth rate. They use ritual magic to conceive and even then there is no guarantee of success. Humans and succubi can have children but it's rare, your mother beat the odds just to get pregnant. We both knew, right from the start, you would either be human or succubus."

"Children with a human parent are either one or the other, there is no `half' and it shouldn't have been possible for you to change that. Annette explained all this to me before you were born. It never changed how we felt about you but Annette was worried you would feel about her. It's not unheard of for human children to hate their succubus parent."

"We both suspected you would have magic. We even planned to teach you when you were old enough. But then... After..." He struggled to get the words out. Even now it was hard to think about and we still never talked about Mom's death.

Giving up, Dad shook his head, "After that, I wanted nothing to do with magic. I boxed everything up and just tried to forget about it."

The air grew heavy and Dad took another drink.

"H-how did you really meet Mom?" I asked. They had always told me it was through some friends at college but now I doubted it.

Dad smiled and some of the life came back to his eyes, "After she left Lustrum, your mother went to college. That's where I met her. I knew, as soon as I saw her that she could use magic. It was like finding a diamond in the street and I'll admit, I got a little obsessed with her. I'll skip the details but I was horrified when I realised just what your mother was."

He laughed at my surprised expression, "There is no formal education for magic users, we are all self taught or taken as an apprentice. The only book I had that mentioned succubi was more fantasy than fact and I was convinced she was evil. So one night, I confronted her. I'd spent ages preparing and had dozens of spells and my new staff ready... Your mother thought I was the most adorable little demon hunter she'd ever seen," he admitted with a blush.

Dad stood up and started digging through another box, "After she kicked my arse, she sat me down and explained everything to me. We started spending time together and well, you know what happened after that. Here, these were hers," He handed me a couple of books.

The first looked professionally made and had a picture of stylised wings and horns on the cover, "That's the most accurate book you can find on succubi. Your mother made me read it. The other is her personal journal. She started writing it when she was pregnant, it was supposed to be everything she wanted to teach you."

Moms journal was a leatherbound book with floral prints in the leather. It was filled with Moms neat writing and I skimmed through the first few pages. It read more like a notebook, ideas were scribbled in the margins and sections had been crossed out.

What really drew my eye was a line of symbols near the bottom of the page. I didn't know what they meant but as I looked I could feel them trying to draw on... something. I reached towards it but Dad stopped me.

"Is that-?"

"Yeah, it's a spell," he turned his head to get a better look, "It's... a light spell. Safe enough, go ahead."

Wondering what he meant, I turned my attention the `spell', it looked more like a complex maths formula than anything else. I could feel that pulling sensation and I reached out. My fingers brushed the page but nothing happend. I gave Dad a questioning looking but he simply nodded.

This time, I focused on the pulling. Did the spell need something? I tried to push against the sensation and gasped as I felt something inside of me shift. The words on the page started to glow. The break in concentration caused the words to go dark.

I tried again, but this time, I didn't stop until all the symbols were glowing. I watched as they detached themselves from the page, an ethereal copy floating just about the original writing.

Taking a calming breath I reached for the symbols and they merged into a glowing sphere. It felt delicate in my hands, like it would break if squeezed too hard. Dad mimed a gentle throwing action and I realised what he meant.

I threw the sphere. It hit the far wall and the room was filled with a bright white flash that left after images on my eyes. I turned in shock to Dad who was grinning broadly. I broke into a smile of my own. I could use magic!

"So... I know it's a bit late, but how do feel about learning magic? We can make a weekend of it." Dad offered and hugged me tightly.

I could use magic, this was something Emma and her friends could never take away from me.


* * *

1-3

After Dinner, Dad sat down with me at the table and started teaching me the basics of magic. He'd dug a collection of books out one of the boxes. We'd ordered takeout as neither of us were really up to cooking after everything else that had happened today.

"This is your basic primer. It contains the full runic alphabet and a brief description of what they mean." He passed a slim leather book towards me. "By writing these in the correct order you can create a spell."

He pulled a piece of paper towards himself and quickly wrote down a spell, "In theory, writing a spell is simple. You state the target," he circled the first half of the spell he'd written, "then the effect. Go ahead and look up the runes, see if you can tell me what this does?"

I flipped through the book, making notes on a sheet of paper. Each rune could formed one syllable or it could be a word on its own or a part of a polysyllabic word. The first rune I found was... `Open'? it took me a bit of reading to realise that the rune before it stood for `Define' or `Target.'

Oh, I get it! I quickly scribbled `Target Open' on the sheet. The next rune was `Light'

[Target {Open}; Light {Blue};]

"It's a light spell, like the one I tried earlier but coloured blue?" I wasn't too sure about the last part but dad smiled and nodded.

"That's right. Interesting idea on the notes, where did you learn that?

I looked at my notes and I realised I'd what I'd been writing, "Its the pseudocode my computer science teacher was showing us."

"Makes sense, most magic users have there own way of making notes. Now, can you think of a reason for using `open' as the target?"

"... Because there isn't one. This just creates a flash of light wherever the spell lands?"

"Exactly, if we replace open with `hand' you would get a spell that works a bit like a torch. Now this is just spell crafting at its most basic, it gets much more complicated once you start adding conditions."

It took me much longer to translate his next spell

[Target {Hand}; Light {Blue}; Direction {Forward {Hand}}; Power {User {Constant}};]

"That's more or less it," Dad said, "the `Constant' means the spell will last as long as you continue to feed it power. You can add all sorts of conditions such as timers or triggers as you see fit. It all depends on your imagination. Why don't you try creating a couple of your own?"

Dad busied himself making us both some tea while I worked. In the end, I created a spell that should act like a stun grenade, a loud bang and bright flash that shouldn't effect me if I got the runes right. I also made one to conjure water.

Looking the formula over, Dad seemed impressed. "Protecting yourself against your own spell is a clever idea. For the most part, you are immune to effects of your own spells. For example," he created a ball of flame in his hand, "this fire will not burn me while I'm channeling power into it. If i was to set the table alight however I would no longer be protected."

"This brings us to some basic safety rules; Don't try cast a spell unless you know exactly what it will do. And I don't want you using `Constant' until you have gotten used to feeling your magic. If you cast a spell that requires more power than you can supply it will start to drain your body. In some cases, this can be lethal."

He closed his hand, snuffing out the flames.

"How did you do that? I didn't see you write anything down"

"Hmm? That's why you should be very careful about casting spells you didn't write yourself. With practice you will get more familiar with a spell and will be able to get the same effect using less runes. Eventually, you can cast your most common spells without writing anything. This means a spell someone else has written may be missing important runes. A lot of magic users find that out the hard way."

As dad explained it, anybody could write a spells but only people who had magic could use them. There were exceptions of course. It was possible to store Magic in objects or devices that could then be used by others.

Apparently, this was actually a bit of a problem as it meant there was a large number of enchanted artifacts around that anybody could use. What's more If Magican used the same spell book for a long period it would slowly store a charge. The `scrolls of Merlin' were said to have so much magic stored in them that they couldn't even be handled safely.

Dad didn't go into too much detail as most of that was high magic theory and not something I needed to worry about for awhile yet.

Returning to the lesson, Dad quickly scribbled another spell. Rather than have me translate it, he asked me to close my eyes and focus power into it.

Doing as he asked, I felt the same pull from earlier. Dad explained it as the spell trying to draw on my magic.

"Now, this spell has no power runes, this means any magic you put in will immediately evaporate. For now, I want you to feed energy into it and see if you can feel the flow of your magic. when you are confident enough, try increasing or decreasing the flow. This is so you can learn how to cut off a spell if you need to."

Putting my hand over the spell, I felt the same pulling sensation as before. Pushing against it I could see the runes starting to light up but they never got beyond a dull glow. Closing my eyes, I tried to `feel' my magic.

After a while, Dad made me stop and take a break. It took me four attempts before I was able to feel it. It was impossible to describe, it felt like liquid fire was moving through my body and into the spell. By focusing on where I could feel the `drain' I found I could `push' against it, increasing the flow or pull to slow it. Stopping the flow all together was much harder and the effort left me breathless.

As I opened my eyes, Dad put a hand on my shoulder and smiled proudly


* * *

By the time we called it a night, my head was swimming in information and I decided to take a shower to help me relax.

Stripping down, I ignored my reflection in the small bathroom mirror. It wasn't big enough for me to see more than my face in and I would never get anything done if I kept stopping to stare at myself.

I gave the shower a minute to warm up before I stepped in but even so, the water was barely warm. Frowning at the dial, I realised it was at my usual temperature. Dad had said I was tougher now and that Succubi came from a hot world so I shouldn't be surprised.

Carefully turning the dial, I got the shower how I liked it. Washing my hair had always been a chore, it was my best feature and I went to pains to keep it looking nice. The addition of horns only made things worse.

Standing under the shower head, I was very much aware of the spray as it hit my body. Closing my eyes, I let the feelings wash over me as my hands explored my new appearance. My fingers brushed over the scales on my body and I wondered if they would need any special treatment. As my hands worked their way up, I could feel heat starting to pool between my legs and gently bit my lip to stifle the moan.

One hand ghosted across my breasts, catching a nipple and giving it a tweak, causing me to gasp. It seemed so bizarre for my scales to be so hard and my flesh so soft, and yet for the sensation to be almost the same, even as — I gasped. My hand had brushed across my nipple, and almost without my thought it returned, fingers rubbing and pulling at that little nub of flesh as my other hand slid back down again, across my stomach, down further —

Fuck! I held my breath, my mouth open as my fingers pried my folds apart, so soft and slick and —


* * *

By the time I got out of the shower, I was having trouble keeping myself upright. I pulled some of Mom's clothes on and did my best to dash up to my room, despite the occasional muscle spasm and flushed with embarrassment.

I didn't see Dad as I passed but I thought I heard him moving around in the basement. Hopefully, he hadn't heard me. I don't think I made much noise.

My face was still burning when I reached my room. I wasn't naive, I'd... explored myself in the past but it had never been that intense. Just thinking about it was enough to get a reaction and I quickly searched for a distraction.

Grabbing the book Dad had given me, I forced myself to focus on that. The book was a bit dry, despite its subject and there were little comments scribbled on some of the pages that I recognised as Mom's writing. Mostly it was just minor corrections but on one page, almost everything had been scribbled out and a piece of paper was tucked between the pages with what I assumed was the corrected information.

Shifting on my bed, I couldn't get comfortable. Between my tail and wings laying on my back to read was uncomfortable and my chest made laying on my stomach just as difficult.

Giving up, I sat up and stared at myself in my full length mirror. Despite my time in shower I was still a little wired so I decided to satisfy my curiosity.

I spent some time poking and prodding my new additions. My horns were a lot like my nails, I could feel it when they were touched but that might just be the weight pulling on my temples. My wings were quite sensitive and running my hand across the thin membrane made my shiver. My tail got more sensitive the closer to the joint you got.

Pulling my top off, I examined the scales on my body but I was quickly distracted by my breasts. They were large, firm and nicely shaped. Putting my hand underneath I lifted one to get a feel for the weight.

I wouldn't be surprised if my enchanced strength was simply so I could carry them. A passage from the book Emma had stolen popped into my head, making me blush. Wondering how it would look, I held my hands above my head and shook gently. Watching my reflection, the movement was... hypnotic.

Giggling quietly to myself, I decided to try something else. I brought a nipple up to my mouth. It feel... odd, not bad, kinda pleasant but I couldn't really see the appeal. Maybe it was the angle, or I needed to do more...I mouthed at it, kissing it. Oh...that was better. My tongue flicked across it and my hand tightened in response. Oh...

I looked up at the mirror and saw myself almost devouring my flesh. The view was kinda — kinda hot. Closing my eyes, I let my mind wander. `Lita slowly crawled her way up her lover's body, her fingers leaving trails of fire-"

It was really late by the time I finished and I was glad I didn't have to worry about school. Pulling my clothes on, I quickly nipped into the bathroom to clean myself up. I noticed my bottom lip was quite red where I had bitten it in an effort to keep quiet and there was even a little blood.

Hoping it wouldn't be too visible tomorrow, I went back to my room, finally feeling satisfied.

Now I had calmed down, I was a little worried about how I had been behaving. Being more sensitive was one thing but I didn't want to end up spending every day stuck in my room, only able to — well, explore myself. Especially if it made moving around so hard. Orgasms were — had been — fantastic, but if it came at the cost of any attempts at co-ordination due to the sheer trembling wonder of them...

I wasn't really sure who I could really talk to about it. God, just thinking about asking Dad made me feel ill.

Spotting the book I'd been reading, I decided to give it another try and see if there was anything in there.


* * *

1-4

Sighing in contentment, I took another bite out of my burger.

After nearly two weeks of reading, lessons in magic and just relaxing I was finally starting to feel `normal'. My reflection no longer made me jump and I could look at myself in the mirror without blushing. I'd also finished... changing.

I'd thought that after the first, rather drastic, change I was done but it turned out I was wrong. Over the last two weeks I'd developed extra abilities. Like a form of empathy that manifested as taste, I could literally taste how the people around me were feeling. Good or happy moods tasted sweet and pleasant while darker moods tended to be bitter.

I hadn't realised until then that Dad was just as depressed as me. It hung like a cloud around him, tasting like ash. Thankfully, it had lifted slightly over christmas but it still worried me.

The faint, but constant, smell of whiskey doesn't help either.

Another thing I'd also realised, was that I could `smell' magic. I couldn't tell you what that `smell' was, it was like trying to explain what burning purple tasted, but it was so unique I could always recognise it.

The final change, was the reason I was sitting in the food court at a mall a safe distance from my house.

Closing my eyes, I felt the energy around me being given off by hundreds of people, and allowed myself to drink it in. I could eat normal food without a problem but my new body needed something more.

Succubi needed energy to live and they had two ways of getting it. Active feeding which involved pinning a victim down and forcibly drawing energy from them. Or passive feeding. That's what I was doing now.

Apparently, it wasn't really viable in the past but as cities grew bigger and more crowded it became easier.

All living things gave off energy, some of her books referred to it as the light of the soul, or proof of existence. All I knew, was that people gave off energy and things like emotions tended to effect that. Passively feeding from one or two people was nearly impossible but with enough people in one place none of them would even notice the small amounts of energy I took from them.

It had been a relief to know I didn't need to kill or seduce people to feed. According to everything I had read and what Dad told me, most people who were fed on by a succubus recovered within a day or so and that it didn't require sex.

It was easier to explain why a person woke up utterly exhausted after a passionate night in bed after all.

I didn't have to feed of course, I could survive on normal food but I would quickly lose my extra abilities such as my enhanced senses and the power to shapeshift.

Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I closed off my connection to the world around me. Thankfully my borrowed clothes were baggy and thick enough to hide my lack of a bra. I could probably cut glass.

It happened a lot when I fed. Apparently, while I didn't need sex to feed, the two were still connected.

I was finally getting used to my new level of sensitivity, even if I did still get wound up and off easily. The book Dad gave me explained that all Succubi had high libidos but it was mother's journal had explained why.

Mom had put lines through everything the book said about where succubus came from and wrote the real story in her journal.

With a shudder, I pushed that thought away and stood up. Knowing someone had designed my body, from the way it reacted to my orientation, made my skin crawl if I dwelled on it too long.

The mall I was in was spread across three floors and the upper most was the food court. If I worked my way downwards, I could get everything she needed and leave.

Not wanting to look out of place, I had used my shapeshifting to hide my scales, wings, tail and horns but for the sake of getting clothes that fitted, my figure was untouched. While I could shift to fit into my old clothes, I still couldn't hold that shape for more than a few hours and my body changed back, ruin my clothes in the process.

If however, I was wearing clothes that fit me before shifting, I could change them with my body and not worry about stretching them out when I changed back. even if bursting out of my clothes was kinda hot.

Glancing around as I walked, I spotted another guy watching me and blushed. I couldn't help it, my hips swayed when I walked, I think it was because of my tail.

That aside, I had to stop blushing everytime I caught someone looking at me. The clothes I were wearing were the most loose fitting I could find but I was still attracting looks. Though watching that guy walk into a wall when I stretched was funny.

That's why I was at this specific mall. It was as far as I could get from Winslow and Emma's house. Nobody who should recognise me shopped here.

Taking a breath, I decided to start with underwear. I couldn't keep going braless and I was curious about my size. There was a large store in the middle of the mall that had a women's underwear department, I should be able to find something there that fits me.


* * *

Five minutes later, I came to the sinking realisation that this was going to be harder than I thought.

I had no clue what my sizes were and there was no fitting service here. The best I could do, was use Mom's as a starting point but I was both taller and bigger than her so it wasn't much to go on.

Then there was the choices. Anything that looked even remotely close to fitting me was either some fragile, semi-transparent lace affair with no support or like it belonged on an old woman. And forget about finding a sports bra.

For one brief moment, I actually found some that looked like they would fit and looked nice. But when I picked one up, I realised it had the major flaw. Why are they padded?!

Seriously, I'm already size `holy shit look at her'. "I don't need or want padding," growling in frustration and hung it back up.

"It's because they're typically designed by a man," a girl next to me said, making me jump. "Not having much luck?" She was shorter than me and a bit mousy, her brown hair was frizzy and there were freckles on her face.

"U-um, no... Fashion really isn't my thing." I explained.

Could the ground just swallow me now please?

"Hmm, well I hate to say it, but I don't think you're going to have much luck in here." she said, gesturing to the clothes around us.

With a sigh, I put the bra i was holding back, "you're probably right."

Giving me a pitying look, she held out her hand, "here, how about I help. My name's Amelia but my friends call me Amy."

For a second, I considered making my excuses and just leaving. I could do this another day, I'd just wear some of Mom's clothes or something for now. I'd never been great at making friends and after Emma I wasn't sure I wanted to try again.

Before I could however, it dawned on me that I didn't need to worry it. I could `taste' the honest concern she was giving off. It was tinted with something... musky... I couldn't quite place but it was still pleasant.

Steeling myself, I took her hand, "T-Taylor, and thanks."

She seemed to lose focus when we shook hands but recovered quickly, "no problem, What do you actually need to get and do you know what sizes you are?"

"Umm not really? I kinda had a growth spurt over the holidays and now nothing fits. I was hoping to get some jeans, some tops and some... underwear," I explained, hoping she wouldn't press for too many details.

This time, she gave me an open mouthed stare as she looked me up and down. "Oh that's just not fair," she muttered quietly. "Okay," she said in a much more normal voice, "I don't think you're gonna find anything here. There's a lingerie store further down that does proper fittings, we should head there and get your sizes first."

The shop she was talking about large with two massive windows out front. Each window was large enough to house three mannequins side by side, each in different lingerie. for privacy sake, the displays were boxed in so passers by couldn't see more than what was close to the door.

Inside, everything was done in pinks and blacks and that same musky smell hung in the air.

Amy walked calmly down the aisle to a screened off area where a young woman was waiting. I missed what she said when I noticed one of the posters on the wall. Is that Emma? It certainly looked like her and I knew she did the occasional modeling job, but this?

Between the risque pose and lack of clothes I mistook her for someone older.

"Taylor? you okay?" Amy called, making me blush.

"Y-Yeah, it's just... I think I know her." I waved at the poster.

"Oh yes," the shop assistant smiled, "we recruited local models for our new displays."

"But isn't she a bit... young?" I asked.

The assistant looked confused, "what do you mean?"

It might have been wrong, but I couldn't stop the feeling of satisfaction. "That's Emma Barnes right? She's fifteen. We're in the same classes."

The assistant paled and I could taste the worry pouring off her, "e-excuse me!" With that, she walked off quickly. Probably to talk to her manager.

"You're fifteen? huh, I thought you were closer to seventeen," Amy said giving me another look. "I guess that explains why you didn't know your size."

I was just thinking of a good lie when another young woman came over and politely ushered me into changing room. With a bit of urging, I pulled my top off. The assistant stared and I could taste her surprise. After that, it didn't take long to get my sizes.

I'm how big?!

Outside, I heard Amy choke back a laugh and that musky smell got stronger.

I was still blushing when the sales assistant helped me find several bras in my size, including two sports and some matching bottoms. While she was giving me some tips, Amy was looking between me and a nearby display, "Y'know Taylor, I think you would look great in a corset."

She was looking at was was labeled as an `underbust' corset. It was a corset that stopped under the breasts and next to it was `overbust' that covered the breast. They did look cool and from what I had seen of moms clothes, she was very fond of them.

Maybe I could try one?

"Do they even do them in my size?" I asked, paling when I saw the price tag. The underwear was already taking most of my money, there was no chance I could afford one of these as well.

"I'm sorry but we don't have any in your size. Here," the assistant said, handing me a card. "She does a lot of custom clothing so she might be able to help you out." With a smile, she gave me a card for a shop off the boardwalk called `Parian'

"Ooh I know her," Amy said, "she's not cheap though."

With a shrug, I pocketed the card, it wouldn't hurt to hold onto it, and went to pay for my purchases. After I paid for everything, I checked with the assistant and quickly ducked back into the changing rooms, slipping into one one of the sports. I'd barely needed a bra before, even if I did make sure to always wear one. Wearing one after nearly two weeks felt odd but I knew I'd get used to it eventually.

As we left, I could see the shop assistance pulling down the pictures of Emma and one of them was talking frantically on the phone.

Back in the earlier store, it took a few tries but I soon found some jeans in my sizes. The entire time, Amy and I were talking. We never really spoke about anything important, just general small talk. Being with Amy was nice, it was like having a friend again

I did learn that Amy liked to read and, thanks to an accidental comment from me, that was reading the same sci-fi series as me which had set us both of giggling.

One thing that was odd, was I kept catching her staring at me. Occasionally, I would turn and her eyes would snap upwards to my face or I'd see her giving me this odd look out the corner of her eye. Everytime she did, I could taste her embarrassment at being caught and that same musky smell/taste. It was only when I caught a guy, who go a slap from his girlfriend, giving me the same look that I realised what it was.

On the upside, I think I knew what I was smelling/tasting

Amy was attracted to me!

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. I'd spent the better part of a year being insulted by Emma, being told how plain and unattractive I was having my complete lack of any feminine features thrown in my face everyday.

It wouldn't have been so bad if somebody, anybody aside from Greg, my own personal stalker, Vader had shown any interest in me. physically or mentally.

I'd never had anyone attracted to me and wasn't sure what to do about it.

Eventually, I decided that it was harmless to just enjoy it for now.

Feeling playful, I picked up a pair of jeans that were just a little bit too small and took them into the changing room. Slimming my legs down a bit, I slipped into the jeans and carefully changed back.

The jeans creaked slightly, and it was too uncomfortable to do this for long but it worked. They clung to my legs and backside so tightly they looked painted on.

Opening the curtain I called out to Amy, "What do you think?"

When I turned to look at the mirror behind me, I could see the reflection as she stared, open mouthed, at my backside.

"How do you get into those!?" she asked.

"Well you can start with flowers," the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and we both went scarlet.

Ducking back into the changing room, I peeled the jeans off and tried to calm down.

Okay, maybe that was taking it a little too far.

When I left the changing room, Amy was still blushing but we both decided, without saying a word, to act like it never happened.

we ended up spending so long in the mall that we decided to get dinner in the food court. We were still making small talk when Amy's phone went off.

"Damn, sorry, one second." Checking the screen, she frowned and shoved her phone back into her pocket.

"I'm really sorry but I have to go, something's come up. I had fun today, we should... maybe... do it again?" she asked the last part with a blush and I realised that yes, I would like to meet up with her again.

"Sure," I said with a smile and blush of my own.

I didn't have a cellphone so we had to settle for swapping email addresses.

Picking up my bags, I made my way outside. There were some payphones just inside the doors and I used one to call dad so he could pick me up. There was no way I was going to take this lot on the bus.

It was dark out by the time Dad arrived in his truck. Throwing my bags onto the back seat, I climbed in.

"Hey Kiddo, I thought you would be done hours ago. Did anything happen?" he asked with a touch of concern.

"Nothing really, I just ran into someone and we got talking. we ended up having dinner together."

Dad smiled at me, "Good, in that case, I take it you had a good time?"

"Yeah, it was... nice."

Things were finally looking up.

Hide

(Автор: truebeasts)

A/n: The (short) scene under discussion. Neither fish nor fowl, unfortunately: not exactly sexy, it just happens to have some naked people in it. Contains Night, resident scaly abomination, doing the sorts of things you would expect Night to do. Not necessarily recommended for anyone. Contains some blood, and the whole gruesome transformation thing.


* * *

In her dream she's running along a high place. The sky's gray, and she's barefoot, and along the side of the bare ridge there's a row of spikes, like the wrought iron fences that stand outside of townhouses, and on top of every spike a staring eye, glassy, dead, but they turn to follow her anyway. Doesn't matter how far she runs. They keep turning after her, until she falls down and coughs and spits out a cold hard thing the size of a marble.

She looks at it and finds that that's an eye, too.

Dorothy wakes up chilly, all at once, her muscles stiffening along her back, prepared to fight or run. But there's no one watching — she can feel her power prickling out across her skin, ready for the moment of her change. A blink, and she is wide eyes and sharp claws and smooth, chitinous armor. The bed creaks under her weight. A blink, and she is her human self again. Relief sets in, slowly. It's not quite dawn. Her right hand burns, the webbing between thumb and forefinger hot and prickling, and the same feeling down her wrist, where the nerves had been severed, years ago. Old wound. It stays, no matter how many times she changes. It feels like a pushpin jammed into the meat of her hand.

They'd been careful to do no lasting harm. Nearly careful enough.

It doesn't matter. Some pains, she's used to.

She's drifted over to the edge of her bed in her sleep, kicked off the covers, and the bedroom's cold enough that her back and arms are breaking out in goose pimples. Some nights she can't stand to be touched in her sleep, finds even the weight of the sheets intolerable. Geoff's different. She uncurls and looks at him now, bound into a fetal ball, arms cinched behind him, legs tucked into his chest and tied there. She inches across the bed until she can tuck her fingers under the ropes at his wrists, check that they're not cutting off his circulation. At a certain point while she's looking him over, he stirs, and she knows that she's woken him, but the knowledge passes between them in silence. His eyes might be open or closed behind the blindfold. He doesn't speak.

Dorothy lets them stay like that for a moment, her hand on his shoulder. But there's a procedure to be followed, in this as in everything. She's used to it.

"Did you sleep well, Geoff?"

"Yes, dear."

A peck on the cheek. She lifts the edge of his blindfold, feels her power shrink and shrivel as his naked eye meets hers. Then she settles the blindfold back into place.

That's it. A blink, and she's herself.

Her view of the room doubles, triples, multiplies beyond counting. Her hidden shape has eyes down the length of its body, hard and glistening, their lids translucent like the protective lids of a crocodile. She can see the ladybugs caught between the screen and the window, yesterday's dress crumpled in a pile on the floor, and today's clothes, freshly pressed and hung across the highbacked chair in the corner of the room, behind her. And she can see the pores in Geoff's skin, the fine hairs standing up at the nape of his neck, reacting to her closeness, the silk of her naked skin against him changing to steel and shell and mandibles.

Night can taste him, too. He tastes of salt, like sweat, of blood, like meat, of soap. A little of fear, although his breathing is calm. It doesn't matter how many times they wake up like this. His body knows that she's deadly. His mind — he's thinking of the Gesellschaft, maybe. Night doesn't know and doesn't want to know.

She makes the first cut at the nape of his neck. It's shallow, bleeds sluggishly. Her limbs — too many of them — are razor-sharp. Her hair falls across her face, but her face isn't good for anything, not in this shape. She sees through her other eyes. She smells through her skin. The face is a little porcelain mask pasted over her real self. Eyes blind, nose stopped, lips pasted together. It's an itch, a splinter. She'd tear it off, if she could.

She loops her body around Geoff's shoulders, shifts him, hears him groan as the edges of the armored spines on her belly scrape him. She's not made to touch anything gently.

Still, she's gentler than them. Gentler by far.

There are many ways to hurt a human body, and she can see most of them in her mind's eye if she thinks about it, feel a shiver of phantom pain. Geoff's quiet when she touches him, lips pressed together, although Night knows her touch stings. His skin's red with it. She kisses his shoulder with her mandibles, flutters eyelashes against his back, down the length of her body. She's twisted around him now, like a snake, her razored legs fraying the ropes that bind him. His hands are free, but he doesn't fight her — braces his fingers on her armor, instead, slicing his hands. She blinks and sees exposed fat, yellow and sticky, sees bone. His face is a mess of blood. The sheets, she'll have to throw out. They're ruined. She sees it with the same cool clarity that she sees the line of white where Geoff is pressing his lips together.

She tastes his blood with one of her tongues. He still hasn't made a noise, beyond whimpers. Night doesn't speak well, in her secret shape. She has no need for words. She talks in other ways.

Like now, when she draws a red line down his sternum and pictures how simple it would be to slip downstairs while the others are sleeping, easy, no eyes on her, no one's gaze forcing her back into her bloody, sweating, sniffling shell of a human body. That rag she puts on every day, bulbous jelly eyes staring out of a porous face, the taste of sleep sour in her mouth. Not her.

She'll open Geoff's ribcage, this time. This time she'll kill him for real, maybe, or he'll let her. It will be an accident, or maybe only half an accident. She wonders dispassionately if he'd thank her for it. Perhaps not. The organism in him still wants to live, after all. And in her, too.

She feels Geoff's chest heave under her armored belly, and then he's slipped her grasp and all around her is cool fog, blanketing her eyes, her mouths, heavy in her lungs. Night sees everything in her shape, and in his, Fog sees nothing, and so it's the closest he'll ever come to knowing her. The contours of her body. Her mouth. Her tongue. She blinks the protective lids over her eyes, spreads to her full length across the bloody bed. It's comfortable. Almost companionable.

When he pulls himself together into his body and opens his eyes, she's already changed back into Dorothy, and he's whole again. Not cut, not bleeding. She wipes her reddened hands on the ruined sheets and sits up.

"Will you get the paper, dear? I need to freshen up."

She's done showering by the time he steps into the bathroom and takes off his bathrobe. She listens to him humming over the sound of the falling water, while she fixes her hair, eyes on herself in the mirror.

DRIVE

(Автор: hellgodsrus)

It sometimes surprised Cherish, how easily she'd taken over the world.

She'd set out with high ambitions, sure. Become some big, eminence rouge type behind the scenes running things somewhere. A name whispered in the dark, not spoken aloud. She'd liked the idea of that. Almost the opposite of Dear Dad and his fucking publicity. She'd had some harebrained idea, while running from her brothers — fuck, she couldn't even remember what they could do, let alone their names. Something stupid about the Slaughterhouse Nine.

Even now, her fingers didn't sit quite right at the point where they joined flesh. She'd swept down just as Manton's whore had been about to rip out her heart. A cavalcade of fire. Nothing that could stop the Siberian, of course, but enough to distract, delay.

Captured, imprisoned. By the one woman Dad had always wanted for his collection. At least she'd been safe. Dragon wasn't too bad a host. Always obsessed with Dad's security and the pathetic little ants that infested their world.

It hadn't been hard to work out her little secret. More surprising had been her own reaction to it. The idea of something with no song she could hear or touch, where she'd have to rely on her own weaknesses to manipulate her — oh god, the thought even now made her thighs warm and her muscles clench of their own accord.

Saint had been fucking pathetically easy. An `escape' from Dragon's clutches. A desperate call for the famous mercenary's assistance. She'd just been looking for a way into the metal bitch's good graces, a way to stop her mooning over that dreary New England douche with the beard.

Well. Ascalon had been that.

Every world was now a utopia, a pure paradise. Monitored, observed by her watchful eye. Crime just didn't happen. If you tried, you were stopped. End of story. The Endbringers, Cauldron, Scion, the Blasphemies, the Nine, Sleeper — they'd all fallen. She was worshipped by numbers so vast that Cherish doubted she could say them. Dragon, Goddess-Saviour-Machine.

And yet here the goddess was, her legs spread like she was in heat, moaning and begging. God, it was too fucking exquisite for words — it was like that moment of a child's first true understanding of terror, or the sheer explosive burst of joy of an addict's first taste of a drug after years going cold turkey, the despair of a suicidal depressive realising they couldn't kill themselves, but better. A symphony without the sound only she could hear, rolled into her brain.

The body wasn't a perfect human replica. Dragon had made them at first — but they were just plain dull. Now there was firm, metallic cool resistance to the sheening skin of the thighs, the ass as Cherish lifted it. And that pretty little cunt, the little triangle of fake hair above it. She liked this model the best. Just the right mix of inhuman and human.

A bite, two inches from the lips. It was a hard, hard bite, hard enough that she could feel her teeth strain even as Dragon bucked from it. Fingers slipping into her hair. She slapped them aside. She was in control here.

`You're going to have to ask me.' She virtually hummed the words into the taut skin. She couldn't see Dragon, but she knew that her head would be bent back, her body virtually a semicircle above the sheets, like a bow. Waiting to let the arrow fly. Beds were a rarity, but she liked to keep things classic every now and then. Nothing would quite top that time in the president's office though, or in front of the whole UN, feeling her struggling to keep control, her metal fingers trembling and rattling against each other —

`Dragon, you're going to have to ask me.' She ran the edge of her finger over the little folds of not-flesh.

`Cherish, please.' Her voice was always in control. Cherish would break Dragon's whole perfect universe in two to hear it crack, just once.

`Please what?' She let the very tip of her nose brush against her now, then the back of two of her nails, backing away from the contact as Dragon tried to force it.

`Cherish -'

`Please what?' They'd set up the rules for a reason. The whole thing. Perfection got dull after a while, after all.

`Please make -'

Occasionally Cherish let her plead for it gently. Variation was the spice of life, after all.

Now was not one of those times. `You know the words to use.'

Stillness. Then — `Fuck my cunt with your face, fuck me, control me -'

There it was. Cherish slipped her hands back round to that glorious tight little ass and pulled Dragon in close with a single motion, teeth and lips slamming into flesh. And that taste, that clean scent like yoghurt and motor oil — her tongue flicked out and Dragon's hips bucked.

And the best bit of it was, the bit that kept Cherish there, living between her thighs, was that with each lick, with each microgram of pleasure she wrung out of her there always a chance, just a chance, that for an instant one of the other bodies somewhere, from Earth Tuv to Earth Birdcage to the colonisation attempts on Alpha Centauri would slip, that Cherish was making Dragon fail, was forcing her to choose between lives and orgasms, and that Dragon was deciding to be dominated and have every one of her principles violated


* * *

The sheer sticky river between her thighs wasn't just sweat, that was for sure.

She nibbled, gentle little ripples with her lips, tongue moving in long, swift vertical strokes, occasionally slipping in and feeling the unnaturally smooth, ridgeless interior. She lifted Dragon higher, holding her up until she could kneel like she was at church, head bent in prayer into the goddess. One long tongue swirl inside had Dragon keening, but she withdrew. She wanted to make this last. They hadn't even gotten to ropes this time, or forcing Dragon to call important figures from this body, or all the billion other little fun bits and pieces they could use. It had only just begun. They hadn't even gotten started yet.

Dragon might have been the machine that drove the multiverse, but Cherish knew she sat in the driver's seat, fingers on the wheel right between her whore's hips.

It Runs In The Family

(Автор: Ziel)

"This cell block is under me. You'll be safe here until we get things worked out. Don't stray from it, don't attract attention, don't cause trouble, and everything will be fine." Marquis held out a hand, gesturing her into the block. He even managed a small smile. "Alright?"

Amy swallowed. She didn't want to speak. Or move. Or do much of anything. Better to just lay down and die. Barring that, sleep. Sleep was good. Sleep let her—

"Amelia?" Marquis, her... her father was looking a little concerned.

She nodded. "R-ready."

He put a hand on her shoulder and gently steered her inside. The block was all concrete and metal, with a row of cells around the walls, and a second row around an upper tier. A few splashes of color differentiated it, spray paint, posters, a uniform top left behind, but it was otherwise identical to every other block she'd seen so far. A handful of men were scattered about the room. They looked up, watching as she entered. One, a man with scaled skin like a lizard, arched his brow at her and stuck out a forked tongue, wiggling it lewdly. She glanced away quickly and didn't meet anyone else's eye.

"Up," Marquis said, directing her up a flight of stairs to the upper tier.

His cell was dead center on the back wall, and she had a sudden image of him standing at the rail, overlooking the block like some feudal king. He was talking as they walked, but the words were washing over her. It would have been easier to die. Easier. She could have fixed— could have made better— could have— could have— could—

"You'll be safe here."

The words cut through her thoughts, and she realized that he was holding the cell door open for her.

This was it. A cell for her. Coming home to the Birdcage.

There was someone already inside.

"Oh dear," Marquis murmured.

Someone was sleeping on the narrow cot, their small body wrapped in blankets. A black... (was that a robe?) hung from a metal hook on the wall, and a small pair of the soft prison shoes, also dyed black, sat under the cot.

"Go outside. Come back later," Marquis hissed, his face suddenly tense and worried. He pushed her backwards, but she wasn't watching him.

The shape stirred. Stretched. Sat up, blankets falling away. Amy stared as the stranger was revealed. It was a girl. A little girl, blinking sleepily beneath a tangle of blonde hair. She rubbed her eyes for a moment, and then looked up at them. Cold green eyes pinioned her in place like a hawk.

"Ah," the girl said. Only, her voice wasn't normal. It was a chorus, a dozen, dozen voices speaking in tandem, all cruelly amused by her presence. "Lady Shaper, it is a pleasure."

The girl swiveled and slid out of bed. It was only as she stood, pushing away the rest of the blankets, that Amy realized the girl was nude. She couldn't stop her gaze from dropping— and then the hot flash of disgust that followed. Wasn't it enough to ruin one girl? How dare she think of anyone, let alone this child?

"Bow," Marquis whispered. He half-pushed, half-forced her into a bow, mirroring his own. "Faerie Queen, I apologize, I hadn't realized that-"

"It is fine," the girl said, waving a hand dismissively. "We have all the time in the world. And you have brought the Lady Shaper." A slim finger came to tap her lips. "We could use a handmaiden."

Handmaiden? What was— who— Faerie Queen?

"You are lucky to have such a gifted father, girl. He's entertained me for quite some time without tiring." the Faerie Queen said. She stepped forward to stand before Marquis. She reached up and— he bent to allow her to touch his face? And then he was kneeling, hands coming up to rest on her narrow hips. And— and— and—

Amy stared. "You... you and her are..."

"Queen, perhaps she could wait outside?" Her father said, his voice brittle.

The Faerie Queen smiled again, the expression impossibly cruel on her child's face.

"A queen may do what they please, when they please, Sculptor."

And then she slid her fingers into Marquis' hair, knotted them there, and pressed his face forward. He resisted for the barest second, his eyes meeting Amy's, and then he let the Queen pull him in. Amy couldn't see what he was doing, but she knew, could see it in the way the Queen arched her back, a flush coming into her cheeks. The way the Queen gave a small gasp of delight as Marquis pressed his face between her legs, his hands sliding up her smooth flesh to flick at her flat chest.

Amy stared, and the words escaped her without thought or resistance.

"Holy shit, it runs in the family."

Futanari Taylor Tales

(Автор: Jomasten)

Emma

Hi. My name's Taylor Hebert, and I have a secret.

No, I'm not a cape! Though that would be so cool. But that's not my secret.

My secret is that I...have a penis... I'm a hermaphrodite.

It's not a big secret, I know, but I sometimes feel ashamed about it.

It's a good thing I have a best friend who stood by me when I showed her my p..penis... But...

But...well, the day I showed her my, uh, thing, was when things started to change.


* * *

The first time I had sex with Emma was a horrible tumble of awkward fondling and blooming hormones. We were 12, and boy, when that first arousal hits, it hits like an awkward train. Of course, it didn't help that we were basing everything on a book me and Emma found deep in her parents' closet, so we were just going through the motions without the...nuances.

Emma had started by trying to give me a blowjob, but it was a dry and kinda hurt. We had to stop because it was uncomfortable.

(These days, Emma's blowjobs rocked, but when we first got started, it didn't as much.)

Then when the actual... penetration began, we were face to face, and besides the awkward giggling and joking while being buck naked with your best friend, took us 5 minutes before we remembered we had to put the 'penis' in the 'vagina'.

I got scared when Emma started crying about the pain, and being inside Emma for the first time hurt because it was so tight. But the book said that the first time hurt and it felt weird, so I stayed in, comforting my sobbing best friend. When Emma said that it didn't hurt anymore, I followed the book's instruction to start moving. At first it was my hips, and everything was starting to feel hot. And then I slid my body along Emma's, thrusting in her at this angle then something just suddenly clicked. All of a sudden the two of us were moaning each others names as she held on tight under me, gasping and panting as I stayed on top of her, groaning and thrusting. We were kissing each other sloppily, full of tongue, while our bodies rubbed pleasantly on each other, slick with sweat. When our first orgasm hit us, it took us completely by surprise, our bodies freezing and the two of us held on tight, me spurting deep inside Emma, while Emma grew wet and hot around me.

As we laid there, Emma was the first to break the panting, saying that she wouldn't mind doing it again. I smiled, and I said that I wouldn't mind either.


* * *

When I got back from summer camp, I was looking forward to telling Emma all about the things I did. Her parents and sister weren't home, though she was, so I was coming over anyway.

I didn't expect Emma to have suddenly made a new friend. Nor did I expect her to suddenly pull me into her house, and as soon as we were in her room, to start kissing me, while quickly trying taking off my clothes. I pushed her away, but when I saw the tears and the look of hurt on her eyes I immediately returned the kiss, letting my hands grope and pull on her clothes. My pace wasn't as urgent as Emma's.

Sex with Emma then was a frantic thing, desperate and full of tears, as my best friend moaned and cried while she rode me fast and hard, while I was comforting her, asking her what happened, and how I could make it better, while I kept a firm hold of her bottom and thrust along. She never did tel me what happened, but I liked to think that I had helped as she suddenly buried her face on my shoulder, sobbing while her body was shaking. Whether it was from the orgasm or from the sudden release of pent up emotions, I didn't know.

Some time later, when Emma was smiling again, welcoming me home and apologizing while we basked in the post-intercourse cuddle while our hands wandered in preparation for a second round, did we remember her friend, who was still int her house.

That was the first time I met Sophia Hess, having suddenly spilled over from the door to Emma's room, wide eyed and blushing as she stared at our naked bodies, one hand down her panties and still moving furiously, almost unconsciously. In the awkward quiet that followed, you could hear the wet noises coming from where her fingers were rubbing her pussy, muffled by a flimsy piece of cloth,

The silence persisted, until I haltingly said hello, while Emma stared. Sophia's first response to me was the incoherent moan of her sudden orgasm.

Emma and I still teased her about that, to this day.


* * *

((A thing that's been percolating for a very long time now, but only now gave in to the temptation to post it here. Have more.

Premise is 'AU futanari Taylor and her sexual adventures with the various women, and some men, of Worm'.

Currently have Sophia, Madison, maybe Vista, Miss Militia, Amy/Amy+Vicky/Amy+Vicky+Dean/Vicky, Bitch, Noelle/Noelle+Marissa/Noelle+,,,*petulantly* Krouse I guess, Bakuda, Riley, Shatterbird, Dragon (with Armsy as a willing audience for scientific purposes), and Lily+Parian churning in my head.))


* * *

Sophia

Sex with Sophia Hess could be described as thus: intense as fuck. As a naturally athletic person, her body runs on hot, a lot of the time. And she had a bit of a temperamental attitude, so her own temper runs on hot.

This intensity translated to sex as well, it seemed.

At the start, she'll be resistant, stubborn. She'll lash out at me, telling me that she didn't pull me away from a shopping trip with Emma just we could do a quickie. Except she always says one thing, while her eyes, and her hands, says another.

(Emma always rolled her eyes in amusement whenever this actually happens.)

She'll be angry, at me usually, but there was no actual vitriol. I think she's just like this to hide her nervousness as she tells me to wipe the stupid dork smile off my face, or she'll stuff me in my locker, despite the fact her hands was fumbling for my pants.

Then within the next few minutes, the only sounds coming out of Sophia were adorable squeaks and hisses; moans that threatened to spill out of her mouth that she viciously suppressed with her clenched teeth. I always tried to coax those moans out, gyrating my hips as I eagerly plowed into her sopping pussy. She had her arms around my neck, hands clawing at my back as she kept her iron-control over losing herself, while I had one hand on her butt, keeping her up, while my other was on her thigh, keeping her steady. All the while she glared at me, hard and intense, and just a little bit clouded as I returned her passionate stare with my own, our mouths so close we could feel each others' breath on our lips..

Sometimes, I wondered what the glare was trying to tell me: 'This is your fault', 'Go faster, harder', 'Make a noise, and you'll regret it', 'Damn this amazing dick of yours'.

I usually ignored it after a few minutes before I lean my head forward, just a bit.

Let me tell you: Sophia doesn't usually do kisses, but once I start one, everything about our intercourse suddenly changes. She'd lose that angry frown of concentration, completely letting herself go as she moans freely in our mouths, coming out as almost needy whimpers as she tried to keep her arms around me to top herself from falling off, while those smooth and delectable runner's legs would then wrap around my waist. I'd shift my hands, wrapping around her in an almost firm embrace, and she'll get this needy look that clearly wanted more of this. The pace usually slowed just a bit, but still kept its hard, intense pace, as the only sounds in the room were the erotic slapping of our conjoined bodies, and Sophia's breathy moans.

Sophia's climaxes are as intense as she is and I always had to kiss her to muffle her scream as her warm core tightened around me, almost to the point of being a vice, fluids almost squirting through my length. Then I'd bury myself deeper in Sophia, and let out my own orgasm, sending her into more screams as my cum flooded her channel.


* * *

Sophia likes to say that she doesn't do cuddles, despite the fact I had my arms around her waist as we spooned. Our difference in sizes meant that she fit really well as my small spoon, and she looks so hot and cute at the same time, frowning halfheartedly glaring at me over her shoulder with a flush on her cheeks. She likes to say she's not into the touchy-feely stuff, but will wiggle just a bit closer to me for warmth.


* * *

Being a track runner, Sophia had an amazing behind. So when that smooth, firm ass rubbed on my lap, especially on my penis, she would let out this cute squeak as I began to get hard again.

In the next few minutes, whatever loud angry protest she had would be lost as she buried her face on the pillow, moaning as I fucked her lazy doggy-style, that amazing ass bouncing on my length.


* * *

(Added to the churn: Lisa, Glaistig Uaine.

Next up should be Madison.)


* * *

Madison

When you're in high-school, you tend to hear a lot of jokes.

When you're in a high-school that's as bad as Winslow, the jokes that you tend to hear are crude and really low-brow.

A rather colorful one that I'd overheard in passing was 'it's always the cute ones that are the freakiest'. Usually said with some vaguely foreign accent.

While it hadn't been directed to anyone I knew, it seemed to perfectly fit sex with Madison Clements to a 'T'.

I remember when Madison asked me to, how'd the phrasing go, squash her strawberry? It reminded me of Emma's first time, all teary and painful, and so tight and hot. That was the time I found out Madison was really affectionate when she cuddles after we were done.

That was also the time I found out Madison really, really liked to talk dirty. When she had gotten used to my size, and I was about to start that pleasurable bump and grind, she whispered so hotly in my ear 'fuck me like I'm your two-bit whore, Taylor' with such a tone of anticipation that I was partly surprised that I immediately complied.

It didn't end there. As the string of things she told me to do to her as I was fucking her grew more and more, well, crass, the blush on my face was by then 75% comprised of mortified embarrassment and 25% actual arousal.

(Emma made a joke later that the blush on my penis was comprised of 250% arousal by the time Madison was screaming to 'violate her sacred ground with my meat driver'. Sophia replied with something that made me both horny and even more embarrassed, while Madison laughed in good nature at my embarrassment. She later apologized for laughing by giving me a blowjob. In front of Emma and Sophia.)

Any further dirty talking stopped once I found Mad's sensitive spot, and her speech devolved into squealing and panting, and I focused on that spot, stroking it with my cock as she squirmed around me, tight, hot, and slick. And then I discovered Madison's flexibility as she raised her ankles over her shoulders, and this new angle found me penetrating her far deeper than I'd had, and we were both enjoying it.

Then, just as we were close to coming, Madison found it in her mental faculties to start dirty talking again, this time with phrases that pertained to 'flooding her needy basin'. She was all but begging me by the time the two of us stiffened, and screamed out loud, clutching each other as I emptied myself in her fluttering pussy.


* * *

While we were cuddling after, Madison gave one last comment about her womb feeling so full she might become pregnant.

My curiosity on where she kept getting these phrases would later lead me to accidentally finding out about her online activity, to which I had to 'fuck her silly' as a promise that I won't ever tell anyone who she as online...specifically.


* * *

I would later find out just how true the phrase 'the cute ones are always the freakiest' was when applied to Mads, when she would be the one to introduce me to the really tight pleasures of anal.


* * *

(Now added to the churn: the Simurgh, Taylor's Trio of friends, and #J#RVIJ#mQ!!!%@)


* * *

Shadow Stalker

Sex with Shadow Stalker always came as a pleasant surprise, considering who she was under the mask. It hadn't been that hard to figure out, and I don't think Stalker ever made the effort to hide who she was, what with those amazing svelte runner's legs now pumping themselves up and down, while I watched that firm, dark-skinned ass I've grown to love bounce on my shaft, the combat fatigues that comprised Shadow Stalker's costume half-way down around her knees. It seems that the abandoned apartment complex Stalker had decided to whisk me to this time had good insulation, and a clean and serviceable bed that just so happens to be there, because of how openly Sop— Stalker was howling and moaning every time she came down hard, our pubes touching briefly before hers was up again.

The person under that mask always ran on hot, but apparently when she was being Shadow Stalker, she ran hotter. She was also much more aggressive, considering that how much I want to touch that ass, I couldn't, since my hands were tied to the corners of the bed. I wanted to buck up, but my ankles were also tied to the bed.

When I get taken away like this, Stalker always would fuck herself on my penis first, getting an orgasm off by herself to take the edge out of her body. It was even more so with days that I managed to deduct coincided with bad Wards patrol days, where she had no bad guys to vent on her frustrations.

Today apparently had been a good day, as half-way to her customary post-Wards first orgasm cool down, she suddenly stopped, lifted herself off my dick while kicking off her pants, turned around and knelt in front of my penis, one hand stroked me in an agonizingly slow pace, while the other fiddled with some mechanism that secured the lower half of her mask, watching her mask tilt a bit as the lower clasps came loose. Then I watched as my penis then slowly began to vanish behind that stern mask, and into Stalker's hot, wet mouth. I groaned as she took me in almost fully in one go, running her tongue under my shaft. She moaned as she apparently savored my taste, mixed with her own fluids, before pulling her head up, and then going down again repeating it.

She set a very fast pace, licking, kissing, sucking, and even occasionally nuzzling my dick, while I watched her tantalizing ass wiggle back and forth enthusiastically as she attended my penis.

I called out to Stalker, who as if understanding my wishes, started to shuffle her body, still sucking me, until I barely had time to inhale her musky scent before her sopping pussy sat itself on my lips. I immediately got to work, running my tongue everywhere I could get to, while my lips sloppily kissed her outer lower lips. Sometime during our intense 69, my hands came loose, and I immediately sank my hands into that ass like I've wanting to do, kneading and massaging as I buried my face deeper, prompting one long languid moan from my partner.

As if reading each others' thoughts though, the two of us stop, as Stalker stood up once again, turning around to face me as she squatted her waiting channel over my penis again. She stared at me from behind her mask, before reaching up and pinning my hands to the bed as she impaled herself on my length, and this time we fucked each other into a simultaneous orgasm.


* * *

While the person behind the mask secretly loves cuddling, Shadow Stalker doesn't do them, only prompting a quick firm hug as we walked up to the drive way of my house, having escorted me home. By the way her arms lingered, I could tell she really wanted to cuddle, but as something in her mask crackled to life, she pulled away, murmuring low on her voice.

And then she was gone, much like her namesake, into the dark of the knight and back to being a Ward.


* * *

Lisa

I think my new friend might be a germaphobe. That would explain why sex with Lisa Wilbourn does not actually count as sex, but more like intense erotic foreplay that always ends with both of our orgasms without any penetration involved.

Like right now, where I found myself lying on my back on the carpet of Lisa's apartment, while her feet, clad in luxurious white silk stockings that ran up to her wonderful thighs, gently squeezed my shaft, those soft soles rubbing along my entire length. Lisa had a wide, mischievous smile on her lips, only occasionally interrupted by a twitch and a nibble as the powerful vibrator she had in her pussy hummed a steady rhythm, turned at a low setting. Meanwhile I writhed and groaned in wonderful agony as I continued to call out Lisa's name. That almost catty smile on her lips grew in size, as she teased my vagina with the tip of her big toes, then the length of her dainty feet was rubbing my slit. This was in time followed by a slight increase in her vibrator's setting.

(I think I might be a leg and ass girl...)


* * *

I met Lisa, completely by chance, at a library that I love to frequent at, due to their large collection of fiction. I bumped into her as she was been crouched down, browsing the lower shelves, while I was carrying a pile I was going to carry over to a small cubby and enjoy reading. There was a lot of apologies exchanged, as the two of us laughed it off. Somewhere along the way, I had given my name, while she in turn gave hers. We then spent the next few hours discussing about our favorite reading.

How that sort of friendship suddenly evolved into the kind friendship we were indulging in now still confused me to this day.


* * *

Lisa was on the carpet with me now, hands clad with gloves that were made from the same white silk as her stockings, as she slowly pumped my shaft, a firm grip that hit all my sensitive spots. I was now thrashing, thrusting my hips on that smooth material, while my hand thumbed the controls of her vibrator, turning up the setting more and more. She dropped down beside me, moaning together with me, not quite touching, but still able to feel each the heat coming off of each other. She was pumping me with crazed abandon, while I responded by flicking my thumb, putting her toy to its highest setting.

We were screaming together, bodies shaking as we reached our peak, until we happily stepped off together, crying one final time as we climaxed together. By reflex, her other hand, the one that had been the gripping whatever she could grab of the carpet, shot out, blocking off the stream of sperm that shot out of my penis, and absolutely staining the pure white silk with my milky white seed.

We lay there, basking in the glow of our almost-not-quite love making, before she took a deep breath, and made to stand. Like the other times we finished, she would make a sudden bee line to the bathroom, more than likely to wash up.

I preempted her leave-taking as I drew my arms out and around her waist, pulling her back down to the carpet. She stiffened, but, despite our nudity, I kept my hug chaste, pouring my care and support of her, before letting her go.

She stood up, almost uncertain, while I followed suit, stretching out my back as I felt the air cool on my sweaty body.

She then surprised me when she suddenly drew forward, locking lips with me as she suddenly kissed me, with tongue. Before I could get the chance to reciprocate, she was already pulling away, a gentle smile on her lips as she finally fled for the bathroom.


* * *

Carpet now containing sweat particles. Need cleaning.

I ignored that as I closed the door behind me. Then I was leaning back on the door, breathing a weary sigh.

Vent slow to start. Probable calcium buildup. Recommend maintenance or cleaning.

I turned my thoughts inward, lingering on that kiss I had given Taylor. I smiled.

138,199 Bacterial cells exchanged on contact.

Well, fuck you too, powers. I staunchly ignored that, smiling again as I thought back on her embrace.

Truly does care, as a friend. Loves you for quirks. Understands, or tries to, your fears.

Is sure you are a germaphobe

My smile widened at that.

Still wants to initiate sexual intercourse. Desire strong, but holds it off due to caring nature of friendship.

I gave a wistful sigh. Actual sex with Taylor, huh...?

I looked at my left hand, still in the gloves I used to block Taylor's spunk. It was still dribbling with her cum.

313,581,104 sperm cells on left glove. Impotent, no chance of fertility.

On a whim, I leaned forward, bringing my tongue forward.

I gave a long, slow lick, ignoring the prattling of information my powers was giving me.

Taylor's sperm was salty. And...

I rubbed my thighs together, still slick.

Arousal. Wants to initiate sexual intercourse with Taylor. Likely exchange of 209,348,290,283,094 bacterial cells during intercourse.

I didn't care.

I wouldn't mind having her actually inside me next time...


* * *

The Dallon Sisters Part 1: Amy

Sex with Victoria and Amy Dallon came in a variety of different flavors, and a lot different ways, depending on who was participating that day. They were really close sisters, and had only become closer over the time I came to know them.


* * *

I met the Dallon sisters during my freshman year, when I accidentally broke my leg due to an unfortunate stair-tripping accident at home. I first got acquainted with Amy. That day saw an all time low in emergencies that required Panacea's attention, so she spontaneously decided to make me her one freebie for the day and healed my leg. Of course afterwards Amy pulled me aside, and inquired me about my...extra anatomy, because wouldn't you know it, she noticed it with her powers. She had asked permission to see it, and well, I couldn't say no to her pleading eyes.

So it was me and the famous Panacea, in an empty hospital room, with my penis dangling out and her full attention on it.

(Mads said she had read something similar to this, once, while we were having our after-sex cuddle.)

It was embarrassing, having to talk about my penis it such a medical fashion, but I couldn't just refuse Amy's curiosity on my experience having a penis, even when I had to admit that I was sexually active with it. And the comfortable hospital air, and the fact that a someone was staring at my member in unabashed wonder inevitably resulted in an almost painful erection. Amy got this intense look in her eye as she stared at my erection. Then with a curious hand, she ran a finger along its length, feeling a pulsing vein. I told her that she could just use her powers to make it go down, but Amy insisted that if she did that, she was not sure if there wouldn't be complications, and declared inquisitively that 'the only other way to make it go down was when its relieved, right?'.

Walking Amy through her first hand job which somehow progressed into her first blowjob, in an empty examination room, was an experience I won't ever forget.


* * *

Today, Amy had pulled me into an empty room in the hospital, with the door locked, where she had proceeded to have me bent over, my hands placed on a stool support, and my pants and panties down around my ankles. I was trying and failing to stifle my moans as Amy had her face buried in my pussy, eating me out enthusiastically while she massaged my penis with her fingers, stroking the underside of it, lightly pinching the bit of nerve between my cock and my pussy, teasing my cockhead, and many other things that had me shuddering with pleasure. I had lifted a hand from the stool, and was massaging a breast, pinching my nipple underneath the fabric of my shirt and bra. Then I cried out, spurting out a thick stream that Amy had caught with her cupped hands. Dazed, I collapsed in awe as Amy, looking at me straight in the eyes and a hazy expression, tilted her hands towards her parted lips, and began to gulp down my semen, moaning as she did so, like it was her favorite drink.

I barely noticed trying to swallow the lump in my throat when Amy stood up, unclasping the front of her robes. She opened them, and I only needed to see her complete lack clothes underneath and the inviting smile on her lips before I was pinning her to the wall behind her, grinding my slowly re-hardening cock on her soaking slit, and kissing her deeply, to which she reciprocated in kind, wrapping legs around me.

The last 20 minutes of her break flew by, so caught up in our lovemaking. I was too overwhelmed by her too-hot-and-wet core and plunging my dick in it, while Amy's mind couldn't focus on anything else but the sensation of my cock fucking her furiously.

We kissed hard to muffle our screams as I came inside her.


* * *

The Dallon Sisters Part 2: Vicky

I first got to know Vicky, not as Victoria Dallon, but as Glory Girl.

And not under the best of circumstances, either...

It went like this; I once had the idea of inviting Amy, whom had been my friend for about two months since she came to me asking me about being a hermaphrodite, to my house one time after her volunteer, on a whim. Dad was still at work, so we had the whole place to ourselves. I didn't have the intention of doing it with her at the time, but when Amy and me, both people who didn't like going out to public places much, had nothing else to talk about and the pizza delivery was taking too long, well...

We had to occupy the time, somehow.

But what happened next as Amy's proposed make-out session started heating up into something more, was the result of a series of unfortunate events, leading up to... well...

Glory Girl, in full regalia, and blasting her aura everywhere as she literally bust into my house through the roof. It had been both really, really cool and really, REALLY scary to see her like that. Also, holy shit my roof!

Too bad her only audience had been me and Amy, and we were both too busy being frozen in shock and awe, while I was currently topless , with my penis fully erect through the open zipper of my jeans, and Amy, without the skirt she had been wearing underneath her Panacea robes, and had a gentle grip on my shaft and was about to put it in in her moistening mons.

Really, the pizza delivery choosing that moment to ring my doorbell would have been funny any other day.


* * *

I had already gotten a warning from Dean, so I was actually expecting this. He said that he had gotten into yet another argument with Vicky, and she had just been so frustrated that she had flown off. He apparently guessed his on-again-off-again-and-currently-off-again-girlfriend would fly to me for 'comforting'. He told me to expect the worst. I both damned him and thank him in the same reply just before I saw Vicky knocking on my window with a look I could only describe as 'I had a fight with my boyfriend again and I need you to make me feel better and totally make Dean jealous, even the two of you are like really close friends and you're going to tell me to make up with him anyway'.

(I heard that Earth Aleph had a term for those kinds of people who look out for your well-being: 'bros'.)

I know I expected this, but I still couldn't get over how beautiful Vicky is. Her hair splayed out like that in her haste to get her clothes off, and that sheepish smile as she squeezed her breasts together and massaged my penis with them. I was leaning down slightly, meeting her lips halfway in a kiss that had me breathless, in time to those amazing boobs give me another pleasurable squeeze.

God, Vicky is amazing. I totally wonder why Dean would be so stupid to have argument with this beautiful woman over what shoes she should get. Geez, I'll never know.

All I know is that she gives the best breast penis-massage ever, and I enthusiastically agreed with her when she asks me.

(Madison later provided the term 'titjob' when she got exasperated over me calling it 'breast penis-massage'. I just stuck my tongue out at her. She apparently took that to mean 'sticking out my tongue for her', when she responded by kissing me.)


* * *

The first factor that really started the whole debacle was Amy's enthusiasm. Having not many friends she could call her own, she was eager to hang out with me as much as her volunteer would allow, and even beyond that. Really beyond that. Something a little beyond, but still in the realm of possibility. I don't know. What would you call a friendship that's really, REALLY intimate that sex was just a regular part of it without making the emotional bonds that friendship would have be any less?

Either way, it didn't matter as Amy, so eager to hang out with someone, that the thought of calling her sister to let her know of her change of plans slipped entirely from her mind as we boarded the bus that would take us to my house. All the while, I lent her my ear as she talked about her day, and in turn talked about mine.


* * *

Vicky was what you would describe as 'vivacious'. On top of being so smart and talented, she also played sports, and was always on the move. She had a healthy lifestyle, and it showed, her amazing hips moving hypnotically as she swayed it side to side, at the same time pumping her pussy on top of my dick, while I held on to her fine ass, happily giving it my all as well. She was moaning with wild abandon, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, breath coming out in ragged gasps.

I couldn't help it, I reached out, grasping the back of her head and pulled her in for a heated kiss. She mewled happily as she reciprocated, while I used one hand to massage her scalp, while the other one reached down and groped her perky breasts.


* * *

And thus the second factor came into play, when a panicked Vicky metaphorically knocked down a wall to the Protectorate in her panic, thinking that Amy had been kidnapped. Which immediately followed up with the third factor, when Armsmaster and even Dragon collaborated on tracking down where Amy had been kidnapped by tracking down her phone. The fourth factor really was how fast they were able to do it. But then again, they are like one of the best Tinkers in the world, so it shouldn't have been that hard for them.

But still, Vicky's face upon seeing the two of us, then upon seeing my extra equipment really clinched that moment.

It took rest of the week until Vicky was comfortable in my presence, and an extra four more til she was comfortable of Amy's activities with me.

Really, the biggest surprise had to have been Vicky's declaration that she would join in as well. Just to make sure there wasn't anything funny going on, she quickly added as an assurance, and not because she had a fight with Dean then.


* * *

It was around the time I was pounding Vicky's ass in doggy style that my phone began to ring. Vicky being closer, absently reached over, while I was too mesmerized by the jiggling mass of ... Vicky's ass, to even notice or care. Still moaning, she gave a savage and breathless grin as she apparently answered Dean in my stead.

Before Vicky could even get a word in about how amazing she felt being with me and being on my penis, Dean already had the gall to shout at her that she better not have had her aura on while we were doing it.

Vicky's face was so horrified that I couldn't help but want to make it better by thrusting more, but this young goddess seemed so concerned for me, I had to stop.


* * *

It took me a while to recover, and Vicky was tearfully apologizing about what happened. But I couldn't fault her for it: she had been upset, and wanted to feel better about herself.

I still bopped her on the head, and told her to be more careful next time. I'm just so grateful that Dean is such a bro and a considerate boyfriend, and I told her the latter half. She was shamefaced, and agreed to apologize to Dean first thing tomorrow.

I nodded, then smiled as I tugged her into a warm embrace, kissing her lightly. Then that night, I proceeded to gently make love with Vicky, slow and steady and mindful of my mind as well as any accidental leaks in Vicky's aura. And she loved it the same, giving a low moan as we climaxed together.


* * *

EX 1: ???

I woke up, suddenly aware that I was having a very intense orgasm, spraying my cum all over the woman who had been sucking me off. Vicky was beside me, sleeping soundly and apparently unmindful of the woman's ministrations on my penis.

!?

I don't know the woman who looked like she was worshiping my dick, but the way her tongue expertly lapping at my edge of my glans cut off my questions with a quiet groan as she wrapped her lips around the head, and took me into her mouth. She went down, and down, and down. I was in awe at the sight as the woman took my whole length, and I could feel the back of her throat, so warm and tight and wet.

I could hear the wet squelch and the silent groan as she pulled back, before greedily swallowing my dick again.

This went on for a bit, before I stiffened, arching my back as I gushed into the woman's willing mouth. She seemed to happily suckle on the head, as if sipping out the last of my cum like a straw.

In the dim light coming from the hallway lights and the nightlight I use to see in the dark, I watched in abject fascination as the woman lewdly opened her mouth, letting some of my spunk dribble down her mouth and throat, before closing it. She tilted her head back, and my dick was starting to harden once more as she audibly swallowed my sperm. In the dark, I could see the outline of her throat undulating as she gulped.

Then without disturbing my bed, she stood up, and I was intensely aware that she was wearing nothing but some heels over stockings, and a hat that concealed some of her features but those ruby-red lips, smiling at me.

She made to leave, walking in that slow deliberate manner foot-over foot— hat showed the sway of her hips and the curve of her butt that, an unknown sheen that highlighted everything as she opened the door to the hallway. Instead of the familiar adjoining room, there was a clean white hallway, fairly lit that the woman stepped into.I only got a glimpse of an inviting smile on red-painted lips and a pale complexion as she half-turned to me, the brim of her hat down below her eyes. I was already falling in desire before my door closed without a sound, and with it the mysterious woman.

I was sure that if I open that door now, all I would get is the hallway of my house.

I fell back on my bed softly, so as not to disturb Vicky, who still didn't wake up from all that. I was too breathless and stunned at what happened, while sleep began to encroach me again as tiredness overtook my thoughts, sending me into sleep once more.


* * *

Dragon

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?Topic: Dragon's Prisoner (Closed RP with Green_Gables)

In: Boards ? NSFW ? NSFW Roleplaying ? In-Character

Posted by: Halestrom Born

Posted on August 3, 2011

(Showing Page 2 of 5)

? Green_Gables (Cape Groupie)

Replied on October 12, 2011:

Anne struggled against her bonds, writhing in pleasure as the Tinker-made vibrator continued to torment her lower lips, while her upper lips drooled, tongue lolling out as she panted.

"Y-you'll never get away with this, D-Drago-nnnnnngh!" She strained against her bonds as the Tinker toy suddenly increased in power, sending her into another bout of electric pleasure coursing down her spine and throughout her body.

? Halestrom Born (Original Poster) (Moderator) (Much Smut)

Replied on October 12, 2011:

Dragon chuckled, commanding her biosuit to uncross its legs as she watched Anne struggle through both the pleasure and her bonds. Through the neural connection to her own expressions, the suit's perfect doll-like face smiled.

"Oh, my dear Anne." She started, standing up and walking towards her captive. Soft artificial fingers trailed along Anne's jawline, before cupping her face, "I already have. And you're doing it for me."

She waved a hand, increasing the intensity of the vibrator once more. Then that same hand trailed down, teasing the angry purple erection of Anne's extra body-part.

"Your mouth says so many different objections, but your body is far, far more honest." She then started to pump the throbbing cock, running her palms on its entire length.

? Green_Gables (Cape Groupie)

Replied on October 12, 2011:

"AAAAAH!" Anne couldn't help it. The pleasure and the softness of Dragon's biosuit as she was jerked off by such soft hands had her instinctually bucking into that hand, jerking her hips despite her bonds to get the most out of that soft hand.

Suddenly, she screamed as her whole body tensed, thick, white strings ejaculating out of her penis, staining Dragon's biosuit's hand

? Halestrom Born (Original Poster) (Moderator) ( Much Smut)

Replied on October 12, 2011:

Dragon's smiled was decidedly wicked as she laughed softly, bringing her hand to her face to examine the liquid running down her digits. Then she brought it close to her face and began licking. While this biosuit didn't have taste-buds so she could savor the taste, it did present a very erotic picture for Anne.

"Mm." Her biosuit's lips were quirked as she licked her lips. "Naughty girl, I didn't tell you to come. You just wasted precious biological material~"

Then Dragon stepped back, legs apart as she showed off the full functionality of her almost-human like suit. She spread her simulated lower lips, showing the already-lubricated mons.

"I have a much better way to harvest what I want."

? xXxVoid_CowboyxXx

Replied on October 12, 2011:

(holy shit this is the hottest fucking thing since toast!)

? Bzzbzzbzz (Muted)

Replied on October 12, 2011:

-REMOVED— That's enough of that. -FNCS

? Green_Gables (Cape Groupie)

Replied on October 12, 2011:

((Shooooosh!))[/B]

?

End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

"?

? Private message from Halestrom Born:

Halestrom Born: We should totally hang out sometime.

Halestrom Born: I mean, outside of co-writing smut play.

Green_Gables: INSTEAED OF WRITIN SMSUT PLAY WE CAN MAKE OUR O230JPW KF

Halestrom Born: Gables?

Green_Gables: Sorry! Friend suddenly too over for a second.

Sure, hanging out sounds nice.

Halestrom Born: And making our own smut play?

Halestrom Born : Not hearing a no~ ;D

Green_Gables: *BLUUUUUSH*

Halestrom Born: Haha, it's a date then.

I'll even bring a surprise

Maybe who knows


* * *

Taylor had bent Madison over her desk, and was vigorously thrusting inside her willing and soaking pussy. Madison was loving every moment of it, and made further plans to mess with her sex friend like this.


* * *

Behind the stream of code, Dragon inwardly smiled.

Halestrom Born *New Message*: It might just be an interesting experience~

That sent, she turned back to her pet project.It had begun as a side-project out of idle curiosity.

And now, staring back at her was her first actual human-likness biosuit, a work of art inspired with her extensive role-playing sessions with Green_Gables.

Strange how writing porn over the internet could result in this.

Bashfully, Dragon then thought about the suit's full-gamut functionality.

She idly wondered if Green_Gables could help her test it. Or possibly even Collin.

Skitter Milk

(Автор: doomlord9)

Well damn, I got the continuation idea for CptTagon's writeup of my Milky!Taylor idea but apparently it had too much awesome for him to handle right now while Mr_John is swamped with stuff. Much sadness.

So, it's going here for general consumption(heh....get it?) and hopefully to inspire more authors to take a shot at it.

This was originally written up as a continuation of CptTagon's snippet

http://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/cpttagons-writings.1473/page-4#post-376033

but it could be modified easy enough for other fics.

Some WAFF plot snuck in there...I swear, it was a pure smutty smutfest for the sake of smut when I started but it just snuck in as I typed it out....I have no idea what's up with my brain at times but it just fits too well for me to remove.


* * *

The next Day Taylor carefully locked and rechecks the door and looks around her room suspiciously, Aisha giggling unheard as she was already there 10 minutes ago when Taylor first mentioned that they should begin shutting things down for the night and dashed up here.

She begins cautiously prepping and Aisha, who is quite hungry as she skipped lunch and dinner anticipating this to be a doubly large meal than what she got last time, intervenes. Gently pushing the gear and her hands back down she plays with Taylor for abit while chatting a one-sided conversation, noticing that Taylor's breasts are almost bursting by now, since she forgot to do her morning milking while distracted from the events of the previous night and it had been a busy day that she couldn't take the time, and it barely takes a pinch to cause the milk to flow. She settles for massaging and playing with the rest of her breasts while avoiding the nipples so as to not waste her meal as she thanks Taylor for being so considerate before latching on and drinking deeply.

Things take much longer not only due to Aisha wanting to drain both breasts this time but also from Taylor being overfull from skipping one of her twice daily milking. The pressure relief and Aisha playing with her breasts that are overly sensitive due to being overfull makes the experience far better than the last. She was also anticipating it slightly which is a small reason that she decided not to make time to make up for her missed routine, which also made it that much better.

Despite not eating beforehand, Aisha can still only barely manages to finish. She can't believe the amount Taylor's tits can hold while being the size they are, this is something she would think would happen with massive DD sized jiggling funbags instead of Taylor's perky c-cups. She muses on these thoughts as she again slowly waddles towards home, leaving Taylor once again dazed and resting in a puddle of her own fluids.

Taylor later contemplates asking Lisa to look into things now that it happened again but she is kinda nervous about it. Whoever is causing it, she's not stupid and this is obviously the work of a parahuman, doesn't want to hurt her and she doesn't dislike what is happening enough that she wants it to really stop. That and it would be embarrassing to discuss something like that with her friend even though she is pretty sure Lisa knows about her lactating by now. In the end she decides to skip it and go with the plans of talking about territories and other Warlord stuff.

Lisa is of course well aware of Taylor's dilemma as well as Aisha being the cause behind it, it barely took 2 minutes of having them in close proximity to figure it out, but she'll keep quiet for now since it did help calm Taylor down a very noticeable amount yesterday and no real harm is being done to either.

This pattern repeats with Taylor sometimes just disrobing and siting on the bed to wait, not even pulling out her gear, which Aisha notices and it really riles her up to have the Bad-Ass Skitter just presenting herself like this and waiting for her attentions. She might be imagining it but the milk seems to taste even better on those days, enough so that she sometimes goes into a haze, then she is full and Taylor is empty while she has no idea where the time went.

Then a time happens that Aisha is too busy with something to sneak away, leaving Taylor sitting on the bed for over an hour before she sighs and decides to go to sleep, more disappointed than she likes to admits and decides to take care of it in the morning. She is interrupted from a steamy dream by a clenching orgasm and wakes up to the now familiar soothing, tingly pleasure of her milk being drained from her by unseen lips. She just lays there luxuriating in the feelings, not wanting to think about the relief this is bringing not just from the pressure being removed but also that her unseen....assistant hadn't abandoned her.

A couple days after that Taylor is once again disrobing to prep but Aisha notices she looks alot more nervous than she has in a long time about this. Curious she watches Taylor pace a little bit while biting her lip and double, then triple checking that the room is secure before she visibly breathes deeply to prepare herself. Before Aisha's astonished eyes and shimmies her bike shorts and panties down her legs before nervously laying down on the bed, very obviously keeping her hands from covering herself as she presents her entire body to an unseen person.

Aisha is practically struck dumb by this turn of events, slowly crawling up and curling up against Taylor's side before latching on, drawing out the milk in a slow steady rhythm as she thinks over this whole deal and how it has become more than just her being kinky and getting a meal.

Taylor on the over hand is being driven out of her mind. The steady constant pleasure is wonderful but it is so much less intense than what it was before and what she was expecting when she decided to advance this....whatever it is. Last time when she advanced it by not bringing out the gear the response was absolutely mind blowing and this almost seems like...a tease, her admirer teasing her to frustration when she was expecting so much more.

Aisha meanwhile is brought out of her thoughts and the almost meditative rhythm of suckling while listening to Taylor's gasps and moans when she sees movement out of the corner of her eyes. Incredulously she watches as one of Taylor's hands slowly creep over her hip in an unsure motion before settling between her legs and begins to rub herself gently.

Aisha is suddenly struck entirety of the situation. She is curled up against another naked girl, drinking her milk from her tits, while the girl masturbates from the pleasure of having her milk being sucked out of her. This is...so much more than she expected things to go to that she almost has a panic attack, only coming out of it due to Taylor's increased movements and her frustrated moans as Aisha had stopped her suckling in her near panic.

Looking down at the distressed girl Aisha bites her lip before deciding to see this through to the end. Taylor had obviously gone much farther than she thought she would for this and it would be cruel to leave her like this when she had pushed her boundaries so far already. She settles back down and goes about finishing what she started and makes sure to make it as good for Taylor as she can, even moving Taylor's hand out of the way and taking over. She is inexperienced with doing such to another girl but fairly practiced on herself she is pleased to note Taylor responding very well to her efforts.

When she gets up and leaves the exhausted but happily satiated Taylor under the covers, which had not been soiled as she supposes that would be why Taylor stripped them off the bed this time when she hadn't done that before, she decides that this has gone beyond her and she needs advice on this. Alec would be her first choice but she can't help but feel Lisa's knowing looks recently means that she should really be the first stop.

Lisa takes one look at the girl hopping nervously from one foot to the other in her doorway and only barely manages to suppress a groan of despair. She just does not want to have to deal with this kind of thing as this time of night but she knows that ignoring the signals she is picking up from the younger girl could be a catastrophic mistake at this point. She'll just have to suck it up and deal with another tangled web of drama that comes with being in an all teenager group of villains.

Open Minded

(Автор: Ziel)

Where they're not Nazis? What, are you Jewish or something? The Nazi factor is just another entry on their list of fetishes, down past 'size play,' 'blondes,' twins,' and 'twincest.'


* * *

"Cock-sucking little angry bird mother-fucker," Rune grumbled.

She twisted back and forth on the couch, fingers working madly on her phone screen as she tried to knock down the last pig-controlled building. She was good at it. Really good, in fact; her reflexes born from many nights spent lobbing real things at real buildings.

Eyes narrowed, tongue poking between her teeth, she sling-shotted the surly bird across the map. It soared higher, higher, cresting its arc and then falling down like an arrow in flight. The bird dropped perfectly, slamming into the side of the pig-building. The structure tilted, tilted, tilted... and slowly tilted in the opposite direction, wobbling a little as it settled back on its foundation, untoppled.

She wasn't going to swear. She wasn't. She was at work, waiting for the others to arrive to the hideout. And she wasn't going to swear when there might be with other people around and—

Ah fuck it.

"Bastard swine! Whore-mongering, dick-shitting, non-kosher little prick!"

Someone cleared their throat. Rune looked up to find Fenja and Menja leaning over the back of the couch, both of them grinning at her. Heat rose in her face. It wasn't easy being the only kid in the team, and god dammit if she didn't work hard to be seen as mature.

"F-fenja, Menja! I— uh— this game was-"

"Frustrating?" said Fenja.

"Annoying?" said the other.

"Target practice," Rune countered, trying to sound disdainful, but only managing defensive. "I'm practicing for combat."

The twins looked at each other, both still grinning.

"Ah," they said. "Combat practice."

Rune glowered at them. "You know Kaiser hates it when you do the twin-talking thing."

That did it. Fenja frowned, while Menja grimaced. Rune was the one smiling now.

"About that," Menja said. "That was actually why we came to see you."

"A proposal," Fenja added.

They split, each coming around the couch from a different side. Rune was forced to shuffle her belongings onto the floor as the twins plopped down on either side of her. They were... awfully close. Close enough that she was basically sandwiched between them.

"Rune," Fenja began. "You're..."

"Open-minded." Menja continued. "And there's not exactly too many people we can ask."

Fenja nodded her agreement. "Not too many we can trust."

Rune found herself nodding along. Made sense that they'd come to her. She was a... what had Krieg called her? A "hip, young, go-getter for the Empire?" Fresh blood, basically.

"Glad you noticed," she said.

Fenja leaned in a little. She was practically pressing herself against Rune's side now, and Rune found herself wondering why.

"You're open-minded, and well... we have a problem," Fenja said. "Twins are... we share things."

Menja pressed herself in now too. "All sorts of things. But... well... Some things are... not share-able."

Rune's gaze dropped a little, falling on the top of Menja's open blouse. Goddamn that was some cleavage. Like, she wasn't noticing it on purpose, because you didn't check out coworkers, but damn, it was right there.

"Rune, are you listening?" Menja said sharply.

Rune snapped her eyes away. "Yeah! Twins and sharing and stuff." Her gaze resettled on Menja's face, drifting across her deep blue eyes, her cherry lips, her...

"Ruunnne," Fenja cooed, and she was right there, her breasts practically wrapped around Rune's arm with the way she was pressing in.

"I'm listening! Really!"

"Are you?" Fenja said. And then she flicked her tongue across her lips, smiling at her.

Holy shit. Are they coming on to me?

"We're twins," Menja continued. "And... while we might have... very close feelings for each other, it wouldn't be appropriate for them to be anything but sisterly."

Don't get turned on. Don't get turned on. Don't— Oh God, Fenja's blouse was practically bursting open at the seams, were her tits that big?

"It's like a hierarchy," Fenja said. "Some things are more acceptable than others. For a hypothetical example... incest. Less acceptable than say... homosexuality. And considering our background, and yours, some things might be highly frowned upon."

Holy shit, they were totally coming on to her.

"I'm not sure I follow," Rune said. She swallowed, her lips suddenly dry.

Menja shifted on the couch, her legs— and weren't they long— pressing against Rune from hip to thigh. Rune chanced a glance down and nearly bit her tongue when she saw how Menja's skirt was riding up, nearly to her hip. Any more and she'd be showing off her panties. If she has panties, a small, treacherous voice said in the back of her mind.

"Hypothetically," Menja said. And her hand came to rest on Rune's thigh. Not stroking, not moving, just resting, waiting. "Hypothetically, it might be more acceptable for a say... lesbian tryst to occur, than say... an incestuous one. And if two of the members of this tryst happen to be sisters, well..."

"Menage a trois," Fenja added hurriedly.

"Hypothetically," Rune said slowly. "If I were to go into the other room, where there's a bed for when I spend the night, and two women were to join me there."

The twins nodded, both faces taut and tense.

"In this hypothetical example," Rune continued, her head nearly popping off with anticipation because they were fucking into her. "I would definitely not mention it to anyone, because lesbianism isn't exactly acceptable. So I certainly couldn't say that I was involved with Fenja and Menja, because I'd be in trouble too."

She smiled slyly, raising her eyebrows at the older women. The twins exchanged a long look, nodded, and then turned to Rune again, wearing identical smiles. She couldn't get another word out before the twins stood, caught her under each arm, and carried her toward the bedroom. Was it demeaning to be carried like a little girl by two teens? A little.

But she wasn't going to mention it. Just like she wasn't going to mention that the Herrens were related to the Biermanns by blood and marriage.

Because it was all hypothetical.

Tinker & Taylor (CYOA)

(Автор: serapheus)

Well...this kinda exploded into something bigger than I thought. A bit over 2.1 thousand words. Damn good for me, I wasn't expecting more than a few hundred when I started.

Ah, I don't exactly have a name for this premise/snippet. -thoughtful—

Anyways, have snippet and enjoy

— — — — — — —

Silence.

There are many different kinds of silence.

The companionable silence of friends, the yawning silence of a graveyard, the oppressive silence when you're alone in the wilderness at night, the tense silence you get when you and your buddies are waiting in a trench for the call to go, the sheepish silence after someone makes a completely unexpected joke and nobody knows how to react, the comfortable silence when you're sitting in your backyard looking up at the stars, and all sorts of other kinds of silence.

That said, most silences weren't actually, y'know, silent. A living world rarely is, even if the only thing you can hear is your own breathing.

Right now? I could hear the sound of butter sizzling in a frying pan, the electric 'hum' of the heating elements in a toaster, the quiet thrum of an old refrigerator compressor, the clitter-clack of a metal whisk in a glass bowl, the quiet click of the stove top turning on again, the whirr of the kitchen's ceiling fan with the slightly wobbling tone it ahd gained from the little imbalances it had picked up over the years, and thanks to the fact that I was listening for it I could also just make out the sounds the room's other occupant was making.

I had to fight the urge to rip the fan down and fix it and make it faster and make it quieter and make it—

But if I had to describe the 'silence' that was flooding the room with its miasma like feeling, I'd have to call it an 'awkward silence'.

And if I had to elaborate on that, then I'd call it the kind of awkward silence one gets the morning after they have sex with someone but don't actually know if the other person enjoyed it beyond that night and whether or not they would want to have anything to do with you after this or if it was going to turn into something that was never ever mentioned or even acknowledged, even if it meant the world to you, because your partner just doesn't want to deal with what happened.

Adding in the fact that she hadn't shown any real attraction to girls in the past and she was probably having a bit of an identity crisis in addition to the other identity crisis she was probably having.

Oh, and she's my sister. So yeah;

Awkward. Silence.

I tapped the whisk against the side of the bowl to get the last of the omelet mixture off of it and tossed it into the sink beside me. I checked the frying pan and rolled the melted butter around to fix any spot that hadn't been covered yet before lifting the bowl and tipping the egg goop into the pan which quickly began to hiss as it started cooking.

I picked up the silicone, heat proof flipper that had been a present from dad and tried not think about that as I fiddled with the edges of the omelet.

Then I sighed as I had to just let damn stuff cook and promptly grimaced at the unpleasant feeling that had settled over the room.

I watched the egg whiten as it heated for a moment before sighing again and reaching up to scratch at the back of my neck.

Screw awkward silences.

"So~" I said, dragging the word out for probably a bit too long as I glanced over my shoulder "Why were you slowly crushing our alarm clock into the nightstand anyways?"

The fifteen year old brunette with long curly hair, and looking frankly far too adorable for just wearing an old flannel shirt and a pair of panties, turned pink, well pinker, at my question and ducked her head before mumbling something indistinct.

"Huh?" I cupped an ear, "Speak up, sis, I couldn't hear you over your sheer embarrassment"

Her head snapped up and she glared at me with venomous bright green eyes.

"I said, it was beeping and I couldn't reach it because someone was hanging onto me like a fucking limpet, Ellen!" Taylor, my darling twin sister, groused out.

Ellen Hebert, which would be me, turned more towards her and grinned slyly.

"So you decided to make the alarm clock flip over and bump it repeatedly into the nightstand until it stopped beeping, nevermind that it wasn't even the thing that was beeping to begin with."

She growled at me, snagged a fork out of the gallery of things that she had slowly orbiting above her head and brandished it menacingly in my direction.

"I don't want to hear it from the person who started taking said clock apart while they were lecturing me about breaking it."

I stuck my tongue out at her in response before turning back to the omelet and flipping it with a very well practiced flick of my wrist.

"C'mon, sis, I didn't even realize that I was doing it." I said, waving my flipper over my shoulder at her, "You can't blame me for that."

Taylor 'harumph'ed at me and I heard her flop back down into her chair.

"Then you can't blame me for trying to grind the clock into dust."

I snorted and gave her a look over my shoulder.

"Of course I can. Not only could I put the clock back together afterwards but I am your big sister and that makes me blameless and you not."

"You're older by a minute," She said, and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes as she did, "And you're not exactly a 'big' sister, are you?"

I paused in plating the finished three cheese and three egg omelet to glower back at her and waved my flipper threateningly in her direction.

"Come over here and say that, dear sister."

She stuck her tongue out at me.

"And besides, I'm older by-"

"One minute and twelves seconds, exactly." Taylor interrupted with a groan in her voice, "You've only said it a few million times, Ellen. Get some new material already, please."

I sniffed haughtily and dropped the plated omelet in front of my sister with an expression of grand disdain before glancing at the disassembled remains of two alarm clocks, a radio, and an old fifty gig hard drive and had to fight the urge to start picking through the bits and pieces and make them fit into the blueprint that had suddenly flashed into existence in the back of my brain.

I had to clench my hand around the handle of my silicone utensil hard enough for my knuckles to pop before I managed to force myself to return to the stove top and tossed another pat of butter onto the pan with a violent gesture.

I could feel Taylor's worried eyes boring into the back of my head and waved a hand at her.

"Eat up already, c'mon. You think I made that just for you to look at?"

She let out a choked off laugh and a few moments later I could hear the sounds of cutlery on platery.

Yes, I said platery. My mother was a professor of literature, I can make up words whenever I feel like it.

Shut up.

I absently fiddled with the heat controls of the stove top before I heard a click and reached out to snap the just popped pieces of toast out of the air. I flicked my wrist and tossed them behind me with no more warning than an abrupt 'think fast'.

I glanced behind me and pouted at the sight of the toast floating a couple feet out from my sister.

"Cheater." I said with a moue of annoyance.

She swallowed a bite of egg and grinned smugly at me.

"Who was it again that said 'if you're not cheating, you're not trying', hmm?"

I threw up a hand in disgust as I turned back to the stove-top.

"Bah, my own teachings used against me by my student." I groused as I poured another bowlful of omelet goop into the pan "What is the world coming to?"

Taylor snickered behind me and I had to fight the urge to dance in triumph at getting the happy sound out of her after...

After that happened.

I shook my head, hard, and forced myself to focus on my omelet.

After a minute or so I heard Taylor sniff at the air.

"Huh."

I half turned to look at her and caught her frowning at me with her head tilted quizzically.

"What?"

"Have you got the burner on high?"

I blinked, turned back to the stove, and flipped the omelet, taking in the darker than usual cooked side.

"Yeah...guess I do."

"Don't you usually like your omelets...light?" She queried and I could hear the caution in her tone.

I hummed thoughtfully and tapped the back of a fingernail against the control knob set to high.

"Yeah. Yeah, usually I do." I said in a contemplative tone.

I quickly flipped the omelet again to check the underside before turning off the stove top and plating my eggs. As I turned around I caught Taylor's worried expression and sighed.

"You think that was, um..." She paused and chewed on her lip for a moment "Overlap or something?"

I considered that for a moment. Then I put the plate of omelet down on the kitchen table before closing my eyes and focusing on the knot of...something that felt almost like awareness in the back of my mind, coiled tightly around the well of not-mine memories that had appeared in my head when I'd woken up this morning.

And then I poked it with a metaphorical stick.

It, or 'he' maybe, grumbled something sleepily in the weird non-wordy-thinking-concept way it had communicated with earlier. Before it had decided to take a nap of course.

'Hey, you. Yeah, you. Are you the reason I'm making my eggs all tough and overcooked.'

He, it, whatever, grumpled something in reference to my disturbing their nap that tasted like a rotten egg smelt before it seemed to shake itself and I could feel that subtle awareness of it actually focusing on me. Or more specifically, on my memories of the past few minutes.

After a few seconds I could feel it thinking, a feeling that was something like a feather made of steel tracing over my skin while a slow jazz band played in the back of the room, and then it buzzed with confirmation, in a sensation that sounded like sex felt and I shivered involuntarily as I drew myself back away from the deep of my mind.

"Yeah...yeah, it was overlap." I said, my voice just a little too husky and throaty on that first word to hide my sudden arousal.

Taylor went pink for a second before shaking her head and focusing worried eyes on me.

"You okay?"

I hummed noncommittally, sat down at the table, and eyed the well fried omelet before me.

After a moment I held out a hand towards my sister.

"Fork."

"Hmrph?" Taylor asked, through a mouthful of toast.

I glanced up at her before flicking a gesture at all of the crap she still had floating around her, for 'testing purposes' as she called it.

"Fork."

Her eyes widened in understanding and a fork separated from the 'stuff' and slowly floated down to me.

"Still can't accelerate anything quickly?" I asked as I plucked the fork out of the air.

Taylor gulped down her mouthful and hummed as she looked up at the cloud of things.

"I'm starting to think I won't be able to. I can accelerate anything in my field at a constant rate, even ignore the velocity loss there should be from making them curve into a circle, but..."

"Nothing above a certain amount per second per second."

Taylor nodded in agreement and took another bite of egg before glancing between my own cheesy omelet and me.

I sighed in distaste and glowered at the ugly thing on my plate. I tilted my head to look at it from a couple angles before grumping quietly and ripping a chunk of it off with my fork.

I eyed the bit on my fork for another long moment before closing my eyes and stuffing it into my mouth.

Chew.

Chew.

Chew.

Gulp.

I considered for a moment before opening my eyes and looking at Taylor. She was watching me with a bemused look on her face and an imperiously raised eyebrow.

I waited another moment before shrugging emphatically.

"Eh, its not bad."

Taylor giggled a couple little giggles and I smiled at her.

Then I got to eating breakfast in earnest.

Silence.

The silence of eating a meal with your family.

The only family you have left.

Who you just so happened to have sex with last night.


* * *

Spoiler: CYOA stats

Following this variation, which is V1 IIRC:

Name: Ellen Hebert

Type: Reincarnation

Difficulty: Hard (+3)

Power: Inspired Inventor (-2)

Companions: None

Perks: Inspiration (-1), First Impressions (-1), Cloak and Dagger (-1), Alternate Continuity (-1)

Complications: Marked (E88, ABB, Merchants) (+3)


* * *

Spoiler: Ellen's characteristics

Hair: Auburn, would be curly if let to grow but kept short and messy. ("You know, your hair would look good if you let it grow." "Two words, sister love. Grappling. Point.")

Defining feature: Freckles, mostly across the bridge of her nose. ("Mmmm, freckles~." "Uh, sis? You're drooling.")

Eyes: Green

Build: Wiry and thin, would be gawky but for her muscle tone ("That's right, bitches. I am a fine piece of work." "Oh, you're a piece of work alright.")

Height: 5'2" ("I'm only two inches shorter than you, Taylor, dammit!")

Bra: A, owns only sports bras ("We really don't take after mom much, do we sis?" "Shut up, Ellen. I'm still growing!")

Favorite color: Silver

Dressing style: Jeans, or jean shorts if it's hot enough, and tank tops. Lots of tank tops and 'muscle' shirts. Wears a black cotton turtleneck over the tank during winter with an additional hoodie over that if it's really cold. ("What's this 'style' thing you speak of?" "Dunno, I had to get Emma to go shopping with me to get anything 'stylish' and now she's a bitch." "Sophia's no better." "Shut it, Heberts. At least I own a dress." "Ooo~ Sophia in a dress." "With her legs? Mmm~" "Oh fuck, why can't I keep my mouth shut.")

More banter in the above. I had fun.


* * *

Spoiler: Taylor's trigger

Taylor's Trigger: Thinker/Shaker.

Two effects:

1: Within a ten foot radius she's essentially Panacea lite. Biocontrol restricted to humans and an inate understanding of how a particular person is injured and how to fix it with her powers. Does not give knowledge of the effects of how she fixes, that will require her to read some medical textbooks. (She'd know how to direct her power to heal a wound but not how her power is healing the wound)

2: Within a distance just over arms reach (around three feet) she has microfine control telekinesis but has very low ability to speed up objects. She can however slow down an object at nearly C per second and her ability to move objects within her range is very much an unstoppable force. Control is fine enough to be capable of peeling a sheet of paper into two thinner sheets or compress two pieces of steel until they weld together but while she can stop a bullet, she could only throw it a couple feet. She can sense anything that could/will enters this range and is almost always able to react to it.

Theoretically she could 'spin' an object in a torus around/above her until it reached near light speed.


* * *

I scrutinized the wet frying pan for an extra moment before concluding that it was properly clean and I set it into the drying rack in the second sink. A twist of the knob turned off the hot water and I ran the dish cloth around the surface of the washing sink to get any particulate before hanging it over the faucet neck to dry.

A quick glance around the counter confirmed that I hadn't missed any breakfast dishes and that the kettle of water that I'd put on to boil a few minutes earlier was merrily spitting water everywhere on account of its missing whistle.

"Tch," I clicked my tongue as I strode over to the stove, "Someday I've gotta replace that damn thing."

I flicked the burner off and pulled the kettle off the burner as I looked at the dining table.

"Oi, Miss head in the clouds! Could've told me the kettle was boiling."

Taylor visibly shook herself out of the thoughtful daze she'd been dwelling in, head resting on arms that were crossed on the table, ever since we'd finished breakfast and I'd started the dishes.

"Huh, Wha?" She oh so artfully said as she sat up and looked up at me.

I snagged tea bags from the boxes of such that were beside the stove and tossed each into the pair of mugs I'd put there earlier. Then I lifted the kettle up to eye level and shook it gently, faux-glowering at my sister.

"Kettle. Boiling. You could have told me." I said, making sure to speak as slowly and mockingly as I could.

Her eye twitched as she growled before wordlessly reaching up into he cloud of stuff. I smirked as I dodged the thrown bouncyball and poured water into each mug. Then I frowned at the kettle and sloshed the water left in it for a moment.

That was funny. I could have sworn I only filled it up enough for—

Oh. I filled it up for three people.

I fought away the trembling that tried to surge out from my chest into my arms and only just managed to avoid slamming the kettle down onto the stovetop.

I closed my eyes for a moment and gripped the countertop, letting my head hang slightly as I breathed and just let myself feel the cold ache work its way through my chest. Let the grief and the hurt and the anger and the sadness just wash over me like a cold shower. Then I took a deep breath and forced all the cold out of me as I breathed out.

It's not easy, to let yourself feel that kind of stuff without crying. Even less to push it out of the way like that.

But I've had a bit of practice.

I took a sharp breath and forced myself fully upright. Then I plastered a smile on my face and picked up the mugs of tea.

"Alright, one cuppa Taylor of Harrogate English Breakfast for you," I said as I turned and walked over to the dining table, "and one Earl Grey for me."

When I set the mugs on the table I noticed the frown on Taylor's face and winced. Then she stood up.

I'd started to ask her why when she pulled me to her and wrapped her arms around me.

"Wha? Uh. Um, you okay sis?" I hesitantly questioned.

"I miss him." she said, hugging me tighter and burying her head into my shoulder. "I know you do too."

I stared at the back of her head for a moment before sighing to hide the whimper that wanted to escape me chest. I leaned my head against hers and wrapped my arms around her waist.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"It'll be okay, Y'know. Somehow." She muttered into my neck.

I had to snort in amusement.

"Look who's talking, miss practically-catatonic-for-a-week."

She flinched and I felt her started to pull away. I just tightened my grip.

"Hey, stop that. I understand, sis."

She hesitated for a moment then she nodded as she leaned back into the hug.

"Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. He's...He's gone." I didn't hide the the crack in my voice, as much as I wanted to. "And we're hurt. And people deal with that hurt in different ways. We both know that."

She hummed for a moment then sighed.

"You know, wasn't I hugging you to try to make you feel better?" She asked, an exasperated annoyance in her voice.

I barked out a laugh and pulled out of the hug to put my hands on her shoulders and just look at her. She had a tired smile on her face but it was a tiny light in her eyes that had just been gone during the days since she came home that made my chest swell with happiness.

"I love you, Taylor. You know that, right?"

She snorted and rolled her eyes but her smile deepened a little.

"Yeah, I know. Love you too, Ellen."

And then, like the idiot that I am, I kissed her.

Mistress BEES

(Автор: Vague Wanderer)

Taylor awoke to a pinprick to the neck.

She looked around the room, noting the boxes scattered around the room. She tried to move, but couldn't— she was strapped down to a table.

"Who are you? Where am I? What do you want?"

"My name is irrelevant. We're currently in an old abandoned warehouse at the edge of the docks. As for what I want...that would be you. My trade is flesh, and you are my latest acquisition."

"What!" Realization set in. "No. I— I'm not even pretty. Let me go. Please, my family can pay-"

"Not enough. As for your appearance, well, I'm not exactly your average fleshtrader. I'm a tinker, you see. And I specialize in helping people get exactly what they want. So your beauty, or lack there of is completely irrelevant. I can turn you into anything from a blonde beach bunny to a raven haired amazon."

"Please, you don't want to do this."

He laughed. "Do this? It's already done. The injection that woke you will change you, and once Mr. Van Dorn here gives you the second," he waved an injector gun, "you'll imprint on him and become his loyal slave." He nodded towards the end of the room where a Caucasian man dressed in sharp suit stood waiting, his eyes focused on Taylor. "He was really quite interested in watching the process. Even paid extra for it. You should feel honored."

She could feel the serum bubbling inside her coursing through her veins, already beginning it's work. She could feel her bones and muscles begin to shift, her waist tightening as her breasts began to grow. "You made just one mistake."

"Oh, really? And what was that?"

"BEES." And with that, every insect in a three block radius fell out of the rafters and onto the Tinker and Van Dorn. Both screamed as insects bit and stung, sending them both to the floor. A few dozen roaches and spiders worked their way into the tinker's pocket, searching for a key ring, then carrying it back to their master.

Freed of her restraints, Taylor stood shakily, her balance thrown off by her new proportions. Her once flat chest was now graced by by a pair of C-cups, and they didn't appear to have completely stopped growing. Her once scrawny frame had been filled out with sleek, toned, muscle, and she had gained at least four inches in height.

She half stumbled, half crawled towards the injector gun, grabbing it before turning back to the tinker. He was curled up in the fetal position, mewling incoherently. She called her swarm off, and after a few seconds of hesitation, he uncurled himself slowly.

She rewarded him with a punch to the face, then rode his body to the ground and jabbed the injector into his neck.

There was a hiss as the injector discharged, then the Tinker opened his eyes and blinked, staring at Taylor. "Mistress?"

She smiled.

Fucking Kiss Already

(Автор: Jomasten)

Everyone in Winslow knew about it.

From the teachers, rolling their eyes, to the students, who were rolling their eyes, to even the wannabe bangers, who also were rolling their eyes. Even Greg Vader, school-designated creep, knew about it and he still tried to hit on them despite threat of bodily harm and restraining orders.

It's not a huge secret that Sophia Hess, star athlete and track star, was dating Taylor Hebert, peppy glasses-wearing girl. The two were such complete opposites, it still surprised new transfers to this day.

It's not that they were open about it; it was just that things would be less metaphorically painful for everyone if they were actually open about it.

It's because they liked to hide their relationship under the pretense of an extensive bullying campaign that began near the end of their middle school and into their freshman year of high school. They were Sophomores going into their Junior year, and the way Sophia would halfheartedly shove Taylor to the ground, only to just as quickly pick her up and dust her off under the context of shaking her down for money or valuables virtually made everyone groan in frustration at the wishy-washy couple. The way Sophia would have her hands around Taylor's shoulder, pretending to rough her up caused many teeth to be gnashed.

The suspense of 'will-they, won't-they' had gotten so bad, even the resident Nazis were making comments that they should just get it over with already, even though they saved face by layering it with as many slurs and insults as they possibly could put on it.

(Kaiser was still confused to this day why Rune, Fenja, and Menja would scream in frustration at something they were watching in their tinkerphones, only to quickly cover up their activities. Later, during Taylor and Sophia's senior year, Kaiser would join the three girls, as well as the rest of the E88 capes in celebrating when Taylor finally asks Sophia out to prom, and proceed to save face by layering as much slurs and racially derogatory terms into it, despite the fact Hookwolf was squealing on what dresses they were going to wear, and if it was going to coordinate. Then the Nazis would be reduced to gossipy teens as they giggle at such an adorable image.)


* * *

One day, Emma Barnes, best friend to both girls, had finally had enough.

During lunch, she watched as Sophia poured orange juice(actually orange-dyed water) on Taylor's head, only to surreptitiously grab a few napkins and begin to wipe her off, telling her that she's pathetic and too cute and she should stop being weak.

Emma slammed one hand on the table she was eating on as she stood up, furiously pointing at the shocked pair with the other.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD, YOU DORKS! JUST KISS ALREADY!"

The silence was so widespread, that even those outside of the cafeteria were still and quiet. Even the neighborhood around Winslow was quiet.

Eyes still wide, Taylor turned to Sophia, who did the same. Then she gave a sheepish smile, and leaned forward.

The windows of the cafeteria shook as the cheers of the school reverberated throughout that portion of the neighborhood. The shouts only increased in volume once Taylor dipped Sophia, who happily had her arms around Taylor.

Amidst the celebration, Emma only rolled her eyes, then sat back down with a huff. She then wrapped her arms around Madison's waist, pulling the petite girl close. Madison was just smiling affectionately at Emma, before turning her attention back to the pair, who was still kissing. Her smile widened when she rested her head on Emma's shoulder, and she was practically pulled into the red-haired girl's lap.

Stars and Shadows

(Автор: Jomasten)

Sophia caressed Taylor's, worry clear on her face. She blushed when Taylor nuzzled the palm of her hand.

"Did I hit you too hard?"

The taller girl smiled, moving her head until it was resting on Sophia's shoulder. She shook her head.

"Mm-mm. I'm fine, Sophia."

She didn't need to look up to see the worry on her girlfriend's face. Looking straight into Sophia's eyes, a gentle smile on her lips.

"I'm fine." To make a point, she then kissed Sophia on the nose, making the girl pout. Taylor laughed as she hugged her adorable girlfriend. "I'm made of tougher stuff than this, Soph. I'm fine."

Her girlfriend looked conflicted, "I know you are, babe, but it pisses me off that we have to hide like this."

Taylor laughed, that carefree sound lifting Sophia's heart a bit, "Unfortunately, we're in Brockton Bay, Soph, home of the American brand Nazis. I've already been accused of being Jewish. When they found out that I'm in a homosexual relationship with a black girl?" There was a quirk of her lips as she smirked, "I'm sure the 88 is going to be all over that."

Her smirk faded as she leaned forward again, touching foreheads with her girlfriend, "I'm not ashamed of our relationship, Sophia. But I'm afraid that I may get in your way if the Empire finds out. I don't want to know what would happen if I become a burden to you, Shadow Sweetie."

Sophia's blush returned at Taylor's private nickname for her, but there was a hardness in her eyes as she stepped back, "You're never a burden to me, Taylor."

"Sophia?"

"I want the best of everything for you. I want to see you happy, Moon Of My Life..." She stepped closer, cupping her hands on Taylor's face. She looked into Taylor's eyes, a burning conviction in hers. "Even if I have to bring you the sun and stars to do it." Then she leaned up, planting a kiss on Taylor's forehead.

Taylor as blushing at such a hearfelt declaration, but...

She snickered.

Sophia blinked, the very picture of innocence, "What?"

Taylor was laughing now, "Oh my god, Sophia. Did you actually memorize that line from that one Aleph book just to say it to me?"

Sophia pouted, "S'not like there's anything wrong with that. Drogo's amazing."

Taylor suddenly pulled Sophia into a cuddle, "Oh, Sophia, my Stars and Shadows," Her eyes twinkled, making Sophia's blush deepen, "you're just too adorable~" Then she began to shower her shorter girlfriend with affection.

Sophia didn't mind.


* * *

Spoiler

Hidden in the shadows of the park the two had decided to have their date, newest vigilante Sensationalle bit her knuckles to stop herself from screaming in frustration as she continued her vigil over the couple.

'OH MY FUCKING GOD, YOU DORKS!' Emma screamed in her thoughts, 'JUST KISS ALREADY!'

EROTOARCANA

(Автор: hellgodsrus)

AN: Ok, I did warn y'all when I started it that it would contain some fucked up shit, but I don't think even I knew how deep the damn rabbit hole would go. Thus, for the sake of the reader, I must say — if any of the following bother you, please don't read on: prostitution, non-con roleplay with mind-alter assists, extreme inhuman physiology, dominance games, near-danger play, chemical injection, asphyxiation play (mild, mostly due to cunnilingus/french kissing), vagina dentata, inflation/impregnation, Skittles shipping and a likely very inaccurate depiction of what it feels like to have something come inside you. With all that said and done, those of you who remain — welcome to the — EROTOARCANA


* * *

The flyer had been...discrete. Hardly surprising given the establishment, its reputation and everything else. Lisa couldn't even remember how she'd gotten hold of it — she'd just woken up one morning to find herself holding a black envelope sealed with a red wax seal — {not actually wax, biological degradable compound designed to emulate wax, designed to be conductive to vibrations, heat; solid until correct materials applied then becomes malleable}, her power had babbled — a simple, beautifully hand-written business card inside.

To Whom it May Concern,

The Erotarcana has arrived in Brockton Bay. We are open for business for the next thirteen days. Follow the sigils.

Lovecraft X

It was hard not to have heard of Lovecraft and her/its/his — her power never was quite sure how to classify zir — entourage; zir defeat and overthrow of Jack Slash, zir charity contributions and fight against the Endbringers and, of course, zir business.

Erotarcana. Illegal in the extreme, invitation only — the rude would call it a brothel. A place for those whose powers made it difficult for them to enjoy sex, or perform it, or who wanted to experiment with their powers in a different context than combat, or simply those who had particular fetishes that they couldn't experience without a powered partner.

Erotarcana's service providers were, without exception, all former murderers of one stripe or another. From the truly infamous — Screamer, Shatterbird, Siberian — to the more recent controversies surrounding their recruitment of Canary. Discovery of politicians using their services had toppled not one, but two governments.

And they were very well hidden. Multiple Strangers, multiple Thinkers, multiple Tinkers all working to keep them out of sight and moving from one city to another.

And she'd been invited.

The sigils were simple to spot. For her, at least. What would look like an odd patterned stain or a shadow on brickwork to anyone else, she instead saw as made by the same brush, with the same specially made paint and so on and so forth along the trail.

And thus she found herself at the end of the road. In the Trainyard, facing a door.

She'd agonised over the decision. It was massive expense for what, an hour or two of pleasure? It wasn't like she couldn't masturbate. Well, she had to clean herself very thoroughly first, but she could still do it! But they'd know what she liked, and she'd heard they could turn off powers that were too troublesome to work around, that they were consummate professionals...

She knocked.

The door opened onto blackness with the creaking generally associated with a house filled with ghosts.

She stepped through.

A moment of disorientation, whirling colours, and —

— she stepped into a high arched obsidian hall decorated with elaborately laid out cobwebs — {not actual cobwebs, set dressing, not actually obsidian, chitin castoffs} — and a spiral staircase climbing up she knew not where.

She'd come in costume, of course. They might not respect the unwritten rules, but they seemed to prefer to deal with the caped persona of most people.

`Hello Tattletale.' The voice seemed to emanate from everywhere, both a whisper and at perfectly normal volume for conversation, accent one of those obscure British ones — Glaswegian, Scouse, Cockney; she couldn't tell the difference. {sound trickery, glottal stops in wrong position to be created by lips and teeth, fakery}. Screamer most likely.

`Lovecraft not available?'

`Oh, I'm always available, dearie.' Same voice, but somehow closer —

It should have been impossible for a seven foot tall woman in skirts almost as wide across as she was tall to sneak up on anyone. Somehow, the woman behind her had managed it.

{not skirts, flesh, folded rib cage, touches floor to hide limbs beneath it, multiple limbs, multiple everything, second redundant organs under skirt — } She didn't want to know. Her power kept on going regardless — {skirt is chitin, skirt is flesh, arms have retractable claws, retractable and prehensile skin, paralysing mucus, injectors}.

`Lovecraft.' She tried to grin confidently.

`Miss Wilbourne.' Lovecraft's face was bizarre in real life — perfect enough that it sat exactly in the uncanny valley. Poreless, porcelain white, dainty snub nose and brilliant scarlet lips with a cupid's bow. Not a hair stirred as ze curtsied. {hair under direct control, more akin to tendrils}. Thanks power. {not dress, is naked}. Thanks power. `I see you accepted our invitation.'

`Yeah. Thought I might see what you've got going for yourself.' She made a point of looking around. `The faux goth look is interesting, I guess.'

`It fits with the overall carnival theme we possess. A travelling circus.'

`But with sex?'

`Succintly put, Sarah Livesy.'

She really wasn't rattled by that. Really. `So. How does this work? My selection of guys and girls, or what?'

`We like to craft an individual experience. You are, of course, a virgin, so we will endeavour to make it a special occasion.' Ze gestured with one arm. {quadruple jointed, three elbows, inhuman}. `Come.'

`No discussion of payment?'

`If I wanted your money I would have it already. We ask for a slightly different payment from our cape customers.' Ze smiled. {prehensile tongue, coated in mild narcotic, capable of manipulating surface texture, folded to conceal true length, teeth density equivalent to tungsten}. `And it's rude to discuss such matters before we've served our clients.'

The computer was disguised as a typewriter. Some clever tinkering, that was almost certain. {not mechanical, biological, merely data entry point}. Fuck a duck. Lovecraft's hand glided over the keys. `We have a complete database of all of our residents within. Each has a unique or particular service summarised in their document. We also do offer with certain residents role-playing scenarios which are also listed within the document. Additions, such as removals of powers, specific drugs, scanning of erogenous zones prior to encounter and so on will cost more.'

`Any examples before I dive into the files?'

`Shatterbird and Screamer are popular as a duo. Neither likes to be in the room with clients, but they have a wide array of glass implements to use, and Screamer is very, very good at dirty talk. Think of it as sex with yourself — rough and hate filled if that's how you feel, or something a little more tender and consoling.'

`Isn't that masturbation?'

`No. We leave such fantasies to our arrays of human-controlling Masters. Others...others...ah, Apollo, the metal man. Though given his build he'd be more your new teammate's type than yours. Dear Garotte should you have a taste for asphyxiation — though in my opinion some of our aerokinetics, especially Mistral, are better.'

`I'm straight.'

`You don't have the experience to know, dear child. And please, dear, do be honest. I know how you've rubbed yourself to screaming orgasm thinking about your teammate and her expression when she realises how you saved her, her gratitude and slim little fingers — or sometimes her rage, forcing your head between those legs and -'

`There are no telepaths. How do you know -?'

`How we delivered our flyer to you. We like to vet potential clients extensively.' Ze smiled, mouth stretching impossibly, inhumanly wide. `Nice Guy and Valefor had wonderful reports on you.'

`Y— you.' They can't have. Surely she'd remember. `You can't have.'

`Can't have what? Ordered a whore to be fucked to test her out?' Ze laughed and there was a low chittering to it like claws on steel. `The saddest part was they barely had to use their powers on you before you begged for it. They taped every second of it. What would your dear Taylor say if she saw such a thing, I wonder?'

{`your dear Taylor', spoken to hurt, emphasis on dear rather than your, phrasing — `begged', `whore' `wonder' — not her choice of words}. What — {enjoying this, has seen you naked before, has spoken to you before, your own choice of words — }

Lovecraft sighed. `Darn it. You figured it out again, didn't you?'

`This is a fantasy I paid for, isn't it?' Lisa wasn't sure how she could both feel indescribable relief and comprehensive disgust at herself.

`Second attempt actually.' The petulant voice seemed to ring from loudspeakers. `Arranging the surgery necessary to get you to think and act the right way and forget the memories of your first visit here was really hard.' {tinker, responsible for computer, didn't design tech to alter memories, but did use it}.

`Now now Anansi. We can hardly help it if our client has such a versatile power.'

{said affectionately, knows you well, has had sex with you before}.

`Bwuh.'

`Ah, and now she's bridged the gap and worked out some of the rest.' Lovecraft somehow managed to make zir horrendous smile contain a touch of whimsy. `Anansi darling, leave us be. Lisa and I need to catch up.'

A distant giggle and the clatter of metal feet. {robots under control, source of Anansi's voice, made by Anansi, have eight legs}. `Mmm. You asked to be made like this you know. A little weak, a little unsure. Taking control back, I think. Or so my dollar book psychiatry tells me.' Ze walked closer. {deliberate muscle shifts putting sashay in hips, knows you'll notice, knows you like the voyeurism of being caught watching particular behaviours}. `My dear, it seems your fantasy has failed, but that won't prevent us having — some — fun.'

Lisa was sure there was a damp patch spreading down her legs, but even she wasn't sure whether it was piss or arousal, at the idea of this master seductress who knew everything about her and about whom she knew nothing. This freefall was exhilaratingly different.

`Maybe something a little — simpler.' The grin stretched wider. Lovecraft's face was virtually splitting in two from it, the ordinary teeth retracting and twisted tusks and canines taking their place, something flickering behind them. {more tongues, fully capable -}.

A sting on her arm and the voice of her power shut off. Glancing down, Lisa saw a small bloated shape like a tick dropping away from her. Some sort of device? Something to turn —

She hadn't noticed how close Lovecraft had gotten.

Her shriek of surprise half died as one hand with fingers that seemed far too long wrapped round her waist, lifting her up even as the other swept round, unfolding at the elbow — no, a second arm coming from the elbow, previously folded back against the upper arm like a mantis-claw, forming the puff of the `sleeves' of Lovecraft's armour — and smashed the typewriter into pieces against the wall with a casual backhand. She struggled feebly.

Lovecraft pressed a single digit to her lips. It was jointed, dark, insectile. It tasted like lemons. Lisa looked into that face — the horrifying mouth, up the dainty nose and to the dark eyes. She suddenly noticed that the pupils weren't human — semi diagonal patterns of slots, half disguised by the dark colour of the iris.

`Now Lisa,' — and ze hissed her name with a slight drone to it, like a swarm and fuck her if it didn't make her tremble and shake — `Lisa darling.' The fingers on her waist tightening, drumming.

Then the claws raked up her back, brushing against her skin as they tore the costume from her, the clinging material vanishing, pulling away — but the blades somehow didn't cut her, just ran themselves against her spine. An implied threat, not a true one.

She was dropped to the floor, skidded away, struggling out of the remaining scraps of purple material as Lovecraft advanced, hair unfastening itself and fanning out around her head like an unholy halo. Her dress flapped, folding and unfolding and dissolving and revealing the legs she used to walk, bent back arthropod abominations and sliming tendrils pushing her forwards.

She crawled backwards. The stone was cold beneath her, bra strap pressing into her back. Lovecraft followed, more arms unfolding from the corset of zir dress like a hindu goddess — some almost human, others with what looked to be biological syringes and medical equipment surrounding them. The primary tongue — Lisa could see others swirling in that jaw — flicked across her lips as she advanced. The legs parted more — the folds and petticoats of the dress had slimmed back into a bustle-like tail, and on the underside were pulsating orifices that flexed with every step Lovecraft took.

She couldn't tell what they could do. She couldn't tell anything about Lovecraft. Nothing new, nothing different.

`You like it like this, don't you Lisa?' Claws gently wrapped itself around her arms, pinning her to the floor with zir squamous weight. `Being worthless. Being stupid.' The tendrils slithered against her shins, crawling and rolling against them, higher and higher up past the knee —

A single touch against her underwear was enough for her to moan, the sort of wanton noise she didn't indulge in even when she knew she was alone. It was too much, something touching her not moved by her own hands she could barely think about the texture or how the uncomfortably expensive lingerie she was wearing would be ruined by the slimed residue that stuck to her. Claws slipped over her shoulders, pulling down her bra straps, even as more claws set to work stroking the edge of her breasts, sharp and rough edges almost cutting her but never quite breaking the skin.

Lovecraft's hair unfurled further, reaching over zir shoulder from where she towered over Lisa's prone form, wrapping around her arms and collarbone and stroking and rubbing, rising to wrap round her throat and massage it and that danger was even more intoxicating than what those bizarre multi-elbowed arms were doing to her chest, squeezing and shifting and playing with her like she was a toy.

`It is nice to have you quiet for once, Lisa.' Those tongues flicking out of the mouth — they were different shapes, some like spades, some pointed, some forked. Without her power she didn't know what they could do, what they were for. `Always talking. You prefer it this way, I think.'

`This — ah — this your little fantasy?'

`Always questioning. Darling, you'd know if it was my fantasy. But I suppose you didn't come here to be groped or talked dirty to. You came here to be [/fucked]. So let's put that power of yours to good use.'

The claws over her breasts unfolded — ah, there's the retractable skin — little needle like blades slipping out and into the very centre of her nipples and the feeling was so intense her eyes rolled upwards and out of her control. Not so much a spike as a constant, heated pressure and suction, and she could feel them moving inside her flesh, working a little deeper.

And then she felt them spasming under the force of the injection of some sort of venom, and with the tendrils playing over her panties that was enough to almost send her into oblivion. She was trying to thrash to get closer, but those claws held her firm. `Easy, easy, Lisa. I wouldn't want to hurt you. It'll take a few seconds to take effect...'

{ — wants to hurt you, you deserve this, what you've always needed, ze can make you cum, can make you beg -}.

`What — what did you do?' The torrent of information was unending, more and more of it about how violated she would be, how dirty she was, how she'd wanted this for so long —

She came, hard, screaming and crying and begging for more, and all while Lovecraft laughed, and that somehow made it better, that melodious little chuckle, so inhuman, so delightfully wrong. And the information didn't stop. {you liked that didn't you, being in my grip, giving in to me, lose it, lose it all, you don't need anything other than zir rubbing against you all ridges and eyes and bone -}.

A slight sting. `Let's tone it down a bit shall we? That was slightly more — extreme a reaction than we had tested for. Don't want to lose sight of the big picture, do we darling?'

The information faded. It was still there, but pieces, impressions, not the previous neverending torrent of filth. She could still feel it, pulsing little waves of pleasure through her and leaving her spreadeagled, no desire to cover herself and full of languid desire.

Her sight focused in from the blur her orgasms had left her, settling on Lovecraft. Zir legs had spread further, revealing — her power told her that it was zir {pussy — wet} but at the moment Lisa wasn't entirely sure that it wouldn't say that if she looked at anything. The scent from it was different from the smell of her own juices — slightly nutty like a good roast.

Of course, the most notable part of it was the limber flexible not-quite thread that extended from it. Her power assured her it was a clitoris, and a prehensile one that was going to do wonderful and terrible things to her. The teeth she could see deeper inside Lovecraft promised that too.

The hands lifted her up, legs and arms still spread, almost painfully so. She could feel the strain in the joints of her shoulders, her hips, as Lovecraft adjusted her so both their vaginas were level, those lips and teeth mere centimetres from her flesh. She could hear them gnash.

Then ze pulled them together.

In that instant she felt that tiny weapon flit up and down her length thirty, forty times, probing and prying between her lips, tasting her — then their heads were pulled together and lips met and those tongues slid into her mouth. Everything turned fuzzy.

They pushed against the inside of her throat. They rubbed against her own tongue and teeth. And all the while that incredible second mouth, that vagina dentata worked on her, nibbling and probing and licking and touching —

She tried to press closer, to reciprocate, but Lovecraft held her still, still working, still teasing and trapping and overflowing her. Fuck her, her power was right — she wanted to stay here to do anything for this entrancing eldritch goddess to keep zir pleased, to keep her in zir arms.

What a good little hussy she was.

Finally her lungs screamed for air, and she drew her head back, drooling, her gums and jaw aching and sore. She didn't care — she knew the makeup that filled in between her domino mask and her eyes was a muddy wreck — she just wanted to regain her breath as fast as possible so those tongues could pour back down her throat.

`Oh no darling. We can do that again later.' A disorienting shift in perspective as Lovecraft spun her round. She whined as that clitoris left her but now she was face to face with it, and more tendrils were wrapping round her, presenting themselves to her fingers and face as the blood rushed to her head. `Now. You pleasure me.'

It was like a french kiss, made better by the fact that she knew each swirling touch of her tongue to the thing wriggling between her lips was making Lovecraft moan, that even as their teeth clashed and the pressure grew stronger she was paying zir back. Warm sticky wetness around her fingers, pulsing, probing. She surfaced and a different vagina was pressed to her face. Still the same warm, wholesome taste — like a Sunday roast.

The first tongue to enter her was one of the spade shaped ones — she felt it unfurl within her and begin to writhe even as a forked one wrapped itself round her clit and began to manipulate it — and she screamed in pure ecstatic joy into the tendril-cunt that was fucking her face.

She orgasmed again, then again, then again, as her vision narrowed. Finally she was cast down, still arcing her back for contact that was gone, licking thin air, pumping fingers slick and slimed together into nothingness.

`Dear me. You're almost ready.' Lovecraft settled zirself over her. `Almost gone. Not good for much but bugs — ah, that gives me an idea!' {lying, knew what to do with you all along}. `Normally we vat-grow certain creatures for Anansi but I think today I can make an exception.'

A host for some alien insect creature? Some tinker made, biological nightmare birthed from her?

Stings on her labia. `To ensure it stretches properly. Now, we need to make sure your little babies are well fed while they're in there — you'd forget, wouldn't you?' Something rubbing against her sopping thighs, slipping up them and then —

It wasn't like she'd never used a dildo, or her fingers. But never anything that stretched her so much so fast, reaching up inside, working its way up, pressing higher and higher and higher.

And then it started pulsing, and she felt it jetting something into her, not in individual sprays but in a constant stream, and she could hear it, feel it through bones, impaling her, rising her up —

At some point she came. She wasn't sure if it was her power's constant reminders that this was all she could ever be good for, that pleasant numb haze that still lingered on her tongue beside Lovecraft's juices, or the sheer wanton self-destructiveness of knowing that she had asked for this, asked for all of it. Asked for the tightening of the skin of her stomach, the fullness, the feeling that she couldn't take any more and would simply burst from how much was inside her.

The nutrient pump pulled itself from her, splashing purple goop across her stomach. It was thick, its surface tension compressing it into balls that like mercury ran across the dome of her belly to the floor. She scrabbled for one, pushed it into her mouth with her gooey fingers, savouring the fruity taste.

She lay there for a long time, Lovecraft wrapped round her, until her power went back to normal, until the last shivers of pleasure subsided. Ze made a surprisingly good cuddling partner, good enough that she almost didn't mind the cold floor.

Finally she spoke.

`You said I wanted this because of the control.' She was surprised by how languid her own voice sounded, the little tremor to it.

`Mmm. Dollar book psychology, darling. Coil took control of your life — and your parents did before that, but I haven't read enough Freud to go that far. They made you hurt, and thus you want to hurt them, to hurt him. That lack of control is what hurts you, not the way he applied it. You wanted — want — a situation where your lack of control was under your control.' {believes what she is saying to a certain extent, knows detail is more complex, not entirely concentrating, unguarded}. An opportunity for more information.

`Dollar book psychology.' She wriggled a little. Her stomach still felt uncomfortably taut, and she could feel something dribble down her thigh before one of Lovecraft's manipulator palps wiped it away. {biodegradable substance, tinker designed, no actual alien babies}. She felt mildly disappointed by that revelation.

`It's a good deal more complex, of course.' {amused tolerance of your own ignorance on the subject, knows you're probing, doesn't mind}. `But it's a decent start.'

`You're -'

`Not what you expected? Not just earthy groans, dirty jokes and tentacles? My dear I'm no whore. I am a hetaira.'

It had been a long time since she'd studied Classics. She'd abandoned a lot of her knowledge of it because her parents had forced it on her. But with a little thought — `Companion.'

`It's never really about the sex. Anyone can have sex. What we sell is comfort. Understanding. An open ear, an open heart. No preconceptions.' {deliberately emphasising appeal of work, oversimplifying}.

`It sounds like you want to — hire me.'

`Oh no.' {partial lie — would like to hire you}. `You'd be useful here. No doubt of that. Someone with your, mmm, skills. Not even serving customers though there are some you'd be ideally suited to. Just — analysing them. What they really want. What they really need.'

`Checking the dollar book for you.'

`Yes, dear.' {smiling, all mouths smiling, aroused by your impertinence}. `Something like that. But — you'd want to be equal partners. To run the things you thought you could run best. And you wouldn't, and I couldn't abide that. I'd end up eating you. And Coil wouldn't allow me to grab you, and I can't hurt him.' {real regret, hunger — is thinking about what it would be like to work alongside you, what it would be like to rend you limb from limb}. `Webs within webs.'

Lisa swallowed. `Maybe — maybe some other day.'

`Mmm. There's a thought.' {picked up on nervousness, hunger was deliberate to check response}. `Of course we haven't finished today's session.'

`We haven't?' A sting on her hip, a small brass spider scuttling away, and the voice of her power faded.

`Oh no, my dear. After all, I did all those horrible things to you. Took you and took you and took from you. Don't you want to pay me back, darling. Darling Lisa, darling darling darling -!'


* * *

EROTARCANA: SILK, LEATHER, POTS?

Goddamn it Melanie, how hard is it to let things be for five minutes?

She'd had a hard couple of days — organising things for Coil, helping the little alliance against the ABB take shape — and had been looking forward to relaxing, even if just for a couple of hours, in the arms of one of the servers. Check in had been fine, though Lovecraft had apparently been "busy elsewhere" {serving a more important client}. She had met with her server, and they'd just been getting to the good stuff when —

`I'm sorry to interrupt.' Anansi's childish voice. `Someone appears to have followed you, Tattletale.'

There'd been only a few likely options. Taylor — and she wasn't sure if that shivery feeling at that thought was want or fear — a bored Alec, or, as it had turned out to be, Faultline.

Once upon a time — shortly after Coil had `recruited' her, while she was still struggling to make the Undersiders get along and not murder each other — she had met a marvellous, smart young woman with dark curled hair and good lord she'd never realised she had a type before. Funny the way revelations snuck up on you.

It had, naturally, fallen apart. She couldn't — touch her. Be touched. Without her fucking power getting in the way and ruining everything. So Faultline had started teasing her. Every snide remark about her intelligence, every defeat, all of it was undercut by body language begging Lisa to bend her over and take what was hers. And underneath that was the simple message. You can't do it and I know it. Come on if you think you're hard enough.

And now she'd followed her here, to the one place she could actually have sex as if to taunt her that she still couldn't do it properly, that she had to have her powers suppressed or twisted.

`We could simply mind wipe her of course. It's standard procedure with those who, ah, stumble upon us at an inopportune moment. She's rather excited by the whole affair though. A couple of notes of indignation.'

Her server. Short cut hair with a single dyed red streak. She was a Master, but Lisa's knew that she wouldn't use her power unless requested — couldn't, most likely. A restriction imposed by Anansi. She was clad in what looked and felt like leather — tight, tight leather trousers, tight enough that she could see every flex of muscle as Cherie shifted, a leather corset cropped short over the midriff, which was itself covered by a fishnet web of leather. Leather seemed to be her theme, covering almost every inch of her skin save her face, and Lisa had been rather enjoying its cool, varied textures before the sudden interruption.

`Would she be gone for long?'

`Two days. Maybe a week depending on how much excess work Cranial has to do.'

`Shit. She'd have set her team up to harass me if she wasn't back within a day.' Lisa rubbed at her temples. She loved not having her power for these little sessions, but it would be so useful —

An idea. Sudden clarity of thought. `Anansi. Was Faultline on the list of potential clients?'

`We had considered contacting her, yes.'

`Can you keep her tied up until the power nullifier you've given me wears off? And stop her power from working?'

`Of course. We did the latter immediately. The damage she could cause otherwise...'

`And — I'm going to need a costume. I don't know if you can -'

`My spiders are perfectly capable of spinning web directly onto you, yes.'

`Good. If she wants me so much, she's going to get me.' And then Lisa told Cherie and Anansi her idea.


* * *

To say Kayden was uncertain about this would be a gross understatement.

She wasn't proud of coming here. It was the sort of place that seemed — grimy, on an ethical level, no matter how much it attempted to polish itself. But she had — oh, who was she fooling. She wanted sex but couldn't screw up the courage to go bar hopping. After the complete failure that was Justin she wasn't going to return to him, and the thought of sex with Max again — it was appealing but it would be too much of a backslide. She couldn't go back.

So instead she'd gone here. Night had recommended it, of all people. Had shown her how to get there. She really didn't want to think about what her sort-of-friend got up to here — with her power...

They'd asked to examine her to work out `the best service to offer'. Her memories of the process were fuzzy — apparently that was deliberate. Said it ruined the pleasure, the anticipation to have memories of `awkward psychology exams and personal questions'. The man had been strangely charming, but she'd almost blasted him when he'd handed her the results. It was unthinkable that this was what she wanted, something so extreme, so taboo — she just wanted sex —

Somehow she'd ended up on this gurney. She hadn't been coerced. But she'd — had it explained. Partly. And while that hadn't made it any better — knowing that she'd find this hot frankly made her stomach churn — it had made it more — oh, she didn't know. Appealing, maybe?

One of the spiders on the bed beside her crawled forward, nail-legs digging slightly into her skin as it moved. As if sensing her discomfort they sprouted into soft rootlike structures. It gazed at her, blank bronze eyes fixed on her own. `Are you ready?'

Not really. `Yes. Are — are you just going to get started?'

`Well, we like to show clients the designs available first.' Motion. The gurney was sliding forward. `Make sure they're happy.'

`Do you do this — often?'

`A few times, yeah. Enough to have a procedure for it. Let's see...' The ceiling in motion overhead stopped, a screen coming into view. `Now you won't have nerve endings on the interior of the shell — we tried that once and while some people enjoyed it, your tests indicate that you probably won't. So most of this is going to be just cosmetic.'

`What about the — anatomy?'

`Hmm? Oh that's fairly standardised. I'm fairly sure you don't want the details...' Images flicked past on the screen. `Where are we...ah yes. All our devices are sterilised and specifically designed for whatever we've worked out the client wants. Hermetically sealed to prevent any organ degradation, of course, with fully functioning oxygenation pumps and all the rest. Now, with your options...we can go with a more standard vase shape, or something like an amphora?'

`Um. Standard, I think.'

`Any preference on colour or pattern? We're going to make it glow, by the by, so the contrast with your flesh won't be as harsh.'

`Glow?'

`We'll be turning on your powers, just a very little bit, to mask your identity. That is what you do, isn't it? Instead of a mask?'

`Y-yes.'

`Good. Was worried I'd read the wrong file. Colour?'

`I, um, like the idea of contrast. More like -'

`Your costume! Of course. So we'd want a dark, blue-black — let me just feed that into the system...ooh, that looks nice. Now, we're making it with an extending frangible exterior and back valves to prevent drainage. In terms of what that means, what goes in in liquid form won't come out and the exterior will expand and eventually shatter with its, ah, contents. This will be the end of your session, and we'll anaesthetise you and reconstruct you. Then your session is complete — no need to discuss payment as you're here as part of Magdalene's contract. Does that all make sense?'

`Yes.' That roiling feeling in her stomach, the twitches — surely that was nervousness and dread and not anticipation? She'd suffer through it and then just not go back here again. Night wouldn't ask about it, most likely. She'd probably forgotten she'd made the offer.

`Alright!' The gurney was already moving again, the screen being replaced with harsh white lights. `We're going to put you under now and get started. See you soon!'

And then there was a prick on her neck and darkness.


* * *

It wasn't exactly itchy, wearing her new costume. But it was somehow different in some indefinable —

{microthin, force exerted on exterior spread across wider interior layer by interconnected threads, designed for maximum sensation transmission}.

— or her power could completely ruin the mystery. She'd missed it. Not that it was useful for appreciating Cherie's wonderfully tight little leather clad rear {hip swing is uncomfortable in clothing that tight, doing it out of habit} or even how it had felt to have Anansi's spiders crawling across her skin, leaving their secretions behind.

Taylor's swarm would feel like that, only more so. She hoped that was true, that she'd find that out someday. For now, she'd just have to make do with the memory. {swarm movement more erratic, thicker concentration of insects; Anansi's creations designed with comfort in mind}. Fucking power.

And ahead of her, muffled noises, slowly drawing nearer along the long dark halls. {something restricting speech, indignation, no noises of struggle — unable to be made}. Anansi had done a good job of tying her up then. Good.

Cherie looked over her shoulder and winked. `Ready?' {relying on me using my power to follow her lead, using her power to work out what I want to do to Faultline}.

`Oh yes.'

She strode ahead, palms hitting the carved wooden doors with a heavy thud and slamming them open. {practiced movement, has done this before}. Lisa followed, quickening her step so as they passed the foot of the bed — her on the left, Cherie on the right — they did so in the same instant, steps in sync with each other.

And spread out on the bed was Melanie. Faultline. Naked, save for her silly little welder's mask.

It had been dark, the one time she'd seen her naked before. And then eclipsed under the awkwardness of the rush of information from her power. Which was still there, but because she knew much of it already it had...less impact? Even so, the laundry list kept going — {hair tangled, last washed hair a day ago, last brushed hair three hours ago, ties are made from same material as your new suit, ties are naturally biodegradable, breathing patterns indicate excitement, circular scar under left breast from bullet -}

`Hmm. So this is the intruder. Honestly, I was expecting more.' Cherie's eyes flicked up. {knows you're struggling, offering to use her powers to help}.

Lisa tilted her head. Not yet. `I'm sorry we took so long, we were rather — busy. Gosh, looking at your restraints we left you here for a whole hour.'

`That must have been difficult for someone like you.' Cherie's fingers walked up the underside of that long pale arm with a strange, lilting pace — {musical rhythm, something to do with power}. `My power isn't best suited to checking her state I'm afraid. Would you be a dear, Tattletale, and let me know?' She leaned forward even further, hands running over Faultline's legs.

`Oh, she's not upset at all. She's very excited. Just as one might expect.' She trailed a hand up the thigh. {last shaved legs two days ago, hair now 0.38mm in length, tensile strength of copper of the same thickness}. Thanks power. `After all, she has been asking for this for so very long.'

`Oh you know her? Is she a friend?' Those supple leather wrapped fingers were running over breast and thigh and throat in little skirting patterns, and the sounds Melanie was making were swiftly changing through the gag.

`More like that little girl from school — you know the one. Who thought she was the best and smartest in every class, and so brilliant and obviously the leader. But the cool kids only let her hang out with them because she was so easy to fuck.' The words felt oddly clunky for a moment, then a sudden rush of lust washed through her, overcoming it. Cherie's power.

`Oh that sort.' One leg swung high, and she was straddling Faultline's chest. `Well. She doesn't need the mask, then. Not like she's a proper cape.' {muscle motions are grinding vagina against her sternum, deliberate, can be felt through the `leather', leather is actually biodegradable -} she could guess the rest. The mask came away revealing her face. A little on the round side, brilliant blue eyes. What lipstick she'd worn had smeared away on the cute little gag that held her mouth open.

She looked away before her power could start analysing it. She would show Faultline, but she'd know her limits, and she didn't want to know its manufacture and why it was shaped the way it was. Its effects mattered, not its history.

She kept moving her hand, leaning over that tightly muscled stomach. Lisa couldn't quite resist planting a very light kiss against the soft black surface of Cherie's ass even as she slid up those taut thighs. Feeling it tighten and flex in response, and feeling the silk of the suit transmit that from her fingertips to her own legs. {deliberate, certain touches on certain threads will pull other ones in different areas of the suit, can cause very distant sensations}. Now that was actually useful to know.

`Is she one of those self-deluding ones? Who actually believes all the shit they do? Or does she have enough sense to know it's all an act and this is where she really belongs. Mmm.' Lisa looked up in time to see Cherie kiss Faultline hard, hips still grinding into her. `Oh, she already tastes like other women. How desperate are you that right after you whore yourself out you come here?'

`She always did have a hard time keeping herself restrained, Cherie. "Oh Tats, can you just finger me quickly before we go back?" "Come on sweetie, it won't take long." And all the others I caught her with — well. There was a reason we broke up.' It was surprisingly hard keeping this kind of talk up when she could see and smell Melanie's reactions to it. Feel the sweat, the anticipation. It should have been a turn on, but with her power telling her the salt content of the sweat and that from the amount of vaginal discharge she was close to ovulation it was...difficult to keep what that meant in mind.

Cherie glanced over her shoulder and the information seemed suddenly unimportant, easily disregarded. Or perhaps it was the twitches of her hands that sent pulsing pressure across her body, or the glistening dark curls below. She trailed her fingers through them, feeling Melanie — Mels, maybe? That was sufficiently demeaning and childish — shudder in response. `Ooh Mels, you're so plump down there.' Oh god, the liquid seemed to slide right through her gloves, soaking the threads and turning them to nothings, like they weren't even there but somehow the slickness extended to her own labiae —

`She's getting quite excited now. Maybe a bit too excited. I'm not sure you should reward her so much Tattles darling.'

Careful not to move with too much haste, Lisa kept trailing her fingers up, around, back down. `Just checking on the merchandise. And it's not as if she wouldn't enjoy anything we did to her.' She clambered on to the bed — fuck, it was harder than Cherie had made it look. Settled herself down on that long leg of Mels', all too aware of how much she could be felt through her costume. Her nipples were firm and rubbing against the fabric; not the pain and hassle of going braless and becoming aroused but something more like ten thousand hands gripping and rubbing and twisting — oh it was delectable.

`You should be careful. We don't know where she's been, after all. We wouldn't want you catching anything.' {concerned won't be able to hold emotions in place against overwhelming information from direct sexual contact, suggesting some sort of protection}.

`Hmm...do we have any extra silk — ah, that'll do nicely. Thank you Anansi.' She laid the square over her lips. `It's a shame to cover it up, but safety must come first.'

Then she slid her index finger inside, turning it and curling it up as she did so. The double-wrapped silk finger couldn't quite feel enough of that clenching contorting muscle as she'd like, but it cut down the information to something approaching bearable levels. {large number of phagocytes bacteria and yeast present at entrance to clean area of infection, unused to penetration, internal wings of clitoris present — }, ah, now there was something she could use. She made a gentle beckoning gesture...no, she needed to turn a little to the left —

And like a key fitting into a lock Faultline's hips shuddered and bucked and her walls clenched, hard enough that she almost had difficulty keeping up the same slow motion. That sent her thigh straight into Lisa's own crotch, almost painfully, but she rode with it, the tightness on her finger transmitting straight through Anansi's fabulous, wonderful silk right to her clit, like she was sucking on it with her pleasure even as she ground against her.

`Well someone knows what they're doing.' Cherie's voice was amused. The noises Mels was attempting to make had become completely incoherent. `I'm going to have to step up my game.' Faultline's back arched in response to something she was doing with her breasts. {direct challenge, wants to compare her power to yours in its effectiveness}.

`She's really too easy for any good competition — ' Faultline's answering moan and shudder of agreement almost sent her into orgasm, ` — but let's see what we can do.' She parted the labia with her thumbs, ran them over the sides of the clit in short, gentle strokes.

`You do have the advantage with the area you're working with. Then again, you'll need it.' A slight sucking noise and a licentious moan. Mels' body juddered hard, a rolling series of contractions working against her fingers.

{Cherie using her power to increase pleasure from sensations, from particular sensations, from sensations caused by stimulation of breasts and erogenous zones on arms and neck}. That was just flat out cheating. She wanted to play dirty did she?

{labiae flushed with blood, highly aroused -} she discarded the thread, began again, thumbs now tracing quick crosses even as she continued to pump her finger. {orifice intended for sexual activity -} she could work that out herself, {multiple muscles -} nope, {bacteria -} no, {increased nerve density on ridge of inner thigh, outer skin of labia -} now that was useful.

She set her hands to work, rubbing, stroking, rising her own leg up to rub against that thigh spot she'd found. She was sitting up, distant, and over Cherie she could see Faultline's eyes fix on her, wide and staring and full of a kind of incredulous euphoria that almost made her cum on the spot.

She slid a second finger in as a reward for that. It made touching Mels' lips, her clit, harder, but it was worth it for the way her eyes widened and her light little touch of eyeliner began to run.

Suddenly she whined, a high animal noise, stretching and twisting almost hard enough that Lisa had to withdraw her soaked fingers and the little sodden hanky she'd been using as a barrier. She jerked her hips, hard. Once, twice, then Mels lay back, exhausted.

{vaginal stimulation caused orgasm}. Maybe her power was useful for sex after all. `Oh no we're not done yet.' Triumphant, she brought the scrap of silk to her face. It smelled yeasty and sour and like a fucking crushing victory. `Cherie hasn't had a turn down here. And I still want to see your face. And then you need to pay us back, and then -'


* * *

Kayden swallowed. It felt — different, like this. Maybe it was the fact that she still felt like there was the standard tightness in her collarbone even though her head wasn't attached to one any more. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't even have phantom limbs — just this new cold skin that felt like it should be prickling with goosebumps but was still impossibly smooth ceramic. Maybe it was the tingle from her actual skin that showed that her power was on, that the glow wasn't just from the candles that adorned the room.

Or maybe it was the fact that her sex was completely exposed to the open air. It had been shaved, but when she'd asked Anansi about that she'd been assured that all hair would be returned during the reversing operation. It felt — spread, somehow. Not sore, and not the stretched feeling after sex. More exposed. Like her brain knew that normally to feel like this she'd have to have her legs spread far enough for her hips to sting, like a filthy little toy —

Her brain scared her. She could feel how wet just that had made her, how her unnecessary breath quickened.

She could see herself in the mirrored walls. A long necked vase, maybe a foot high. Her head sprouting where flowers should be, glowing, hair sparking and floating off each other. Thickly layered through the glow, enough for it to be seen, enough that she felt like the trash she'd seen the ABB peddling on the streets, was brilliant red lipstick and vivid eyeshadow and mascara. It seemed unnaturally clingy, and somehow barely there as well. Maybe it was as far as actual cosmetic surgery. And down below, drooling onto the hard-wood table she sat on, her — it didn't feel like a vagina, like this. It didn't feel like it deserved a clean, pleasant word.

Her cunt. On display.

She could feel her muscles — or something pretending to be her muscles — twitch at that thought, and she knew her hips would have jerked if she'd been whole. It had to be a trick by the surgeon, or a Master or someone, she couldn't really feel this way about being stuffed into a fucking jar —

The door ahead of her opened. Distantly she heard Anansi's voice from beyond it, `— as our newest attraction! Some of you might recognise — ' but then the first people were coming through the door into the light. Harsh, rough, already divested of their clothes, all ages. They froze for an instant, then advanced, muttering to each other.

`Holy shit, it really is Purity -'

`The fuck is up with the pot -'

`Look at her lips -'

She couldn't talk. She'd already tried when she first woke up. She tried to mouth something — she wasn't sure if it was `free me' or `fuck me'.

The mirrors flickered. `This is your host speaking! It is me, Anansi! Here we have a lovely new toy we're thinking of bringing to a wider market. Buuuut, we need to test it out! That's where you ladies and gents come in. Heh, come in. Anywho, use it however you want. When you're done just head out — if you want a second go feel free to rejoin the line! We expect this exhibit to be open for a while.'

There was a slight pause as the screens set to act like mirrors reset themselves. What was that coiling feeling where she should have a stomach? Desire? She —

Hands settling round the ceramic of the jar, lifting her up. The sensation seemed dulled, which only made it all intense when one rough thumb grazed her lips, feeling them out. Her lips parted in — protest. It was definitely protest.

`She certainly feels real. Nice and warm.' The man holding her grinned. `All fired up and ready to go too.' He lowered her, hand rising to the neck of her vase. Her face was almost pressed into his stomach — she could smell stale beer and sweat, and see the hairs there. Something pressing against her — unable to move her head she couldn't look down to see what it was —

Then she felt it sliding into her and knew.

It seemed impossibly large. She could feel herself stretch, and stretch and stretch, that odd feeling of fullness only sex could bring working itself greater and greater. Her jaw worked desperately. It felt like at any moment the tip of it would work its way into her throat, that she'd feel it brush against her tongue.

`Oh man. After all that buildup I thought it might be something special, but it's just a novelty fleshlight.'

She tried to clench tighter on him. Draw him in.

`You're still going to give it a go right?'

`Well, duh. I still need to jack off.' And then those hands began to move her and there was only the rhythm, the cock rubbing almost by accident against sensitive and pleasurable areas with every thrust. Her eyes rolled up. Who would have thought it would be so hot, to be an object, to be used and abused — not like Max did, the snide remark, the cutting jibe, but out in the open...

Far, far too soon, she felt the cock in her tremble and something jet into her, spurt after spurt that somehow still felt warm and thick in some indefinable way, and then it was sliding out one final time, the few last drops splattering against her lower lips and running down to drip to the distant floor. She could feel it inside her, held in her where normally it would flow out —

She was being passed over. Other hands grasping her. Another dick pressing into her. `Damn, you undersold it bro! For one thing, there don't seem to be no sloppy seconds. Mmmph!' She tried to thrust back against him, but she lacked the muscles. She just had to sit there, trying to mouth encouragement as another stranger hammered into her.

As he too came and pulled out, she could feel the slight gape to her cunt. She was already being pressed into more eager hands, and she tried to smile sultrily. She was a good toy after all.

But the next one wasn't pushed into her as she stared at an immovable wall of muscle and flesh. Instead the grip slid to her hair and she was suspended, eye to eye with the dick.

`Thought I'd give the other hole a try.' One hand sliding round to cup the back of her skull, and then the head passed between her lips. It kept slipping in and she couldn't stop it, didn't want to stop it, even as she had to force her jaws wider to hold it, her tongue flickering across its underside, trying to hold her teeth back and suck. Her nose was pushed into the curve of his belly, drool sliding from her lips as it fit into her throat.

She could feel it bend and unbend as he began to thrust. With no need to breathe there was nothing stopping him, no need to slow down or care for her comfort — what mattered was him. No room for tenderness, just his cock thrusting down into her, his balls pressed into her face.

He turned her, and she felt another probing entry at her lower lips. Then she was full, full in both directions, being used. She barely noticed when they came, when she was pumped full of more semen. There was a tautness to how she felt now, like she'd eaten far far too much. In the mirrors she could see her cum splattered shell had begun to swell.

More hands. This time she was pressed into a woman's crotch, rubbed against it from face to pussy and back up again until she finally orgasmed, unable to cry out. The voices had blurred together now. More skin. Another cock inside her — this one angled perfectly to slam against something within that sent shocks through her with every motion. It almost felt weirder now to have someone inside her not spurting, not filling her up.

Passed on again. The hands holding her were — the hands holding her were dark. She was being held by a black woman.

Momentary revulsion, followed immediately by guilt. She wasn't that person any more — she wasn't —

`Come on bitch. Are you going to fuck me with your tongue or not?' She was pushed facefirst into thick labiae before she could talk, her tongue flicking out almost on instinct — but she didn't like women, but it didn't matter because she wasn't Purity here, she was Toy, and Toy had to be used — diving in, burying herself. The sour taste.

Almost snatched away to another cock, then pulled back so she could serve both of them. She didn't — didn't know what to do with her tongue. Her lips. She was trying, she really was, but —

`She kinda sucks at this. And not in the fun way. Ah well. Another overpriced toy for men, eh girls?' Laughter. Pulling away — no, she could do better, she would do better — and then she was filled again.

Again and again and again. She swelled, slowly but surely. It passed beyond the feeling of fullness after a meal to something almost grotesque, like the skin of a balloon. She could hear it sloshing inside her with every motion, hear the splash as more was poured in, feel the drips as the valves began to fail under the sheer amount of cum inside her.

Her vase-body had expanded, the solids moving apart on walls of folded rubber. She was flexible now, in a way, like an air bed almost. They had contorted her into all sorts of positions as she was used. She'd lost count of how loose she'd become, her tongue and lips almost moving on their own.

Then the solids began to crack. She could feel herself breaking and somehow that was the most erotic thing of all. Knowing that just from the sheer number who'd cum inside her lewd little body she was going to burst, that her form couldn't contain the impossible inflation any more.

`It's kinda sad how easy it is to break it, isn't it? Shoddy quality. I'd expected more from this establishment.' Another squirting jet. She almost didn't feel the dick withdraw, another take its place. Another.

Something was trickling down her face and she wasn't sure if it was running makeup or cum leaking from somewhere. Everything was bloated, stretched by what was contained within her.

And then —

She stared at the ruined mess she'd become. Shattered pottery. Glazed expression, spattered from the explosion of semen. Smeared, ruined makeup. Lips and tongue working round an invisible cock. Cunt twitching limply even as the crowd filed out and the spiders came to pick her up and take her back to her real body.

Somehow, all she could think was I really must find a way to thank Magdalene.


* * *

For someone who kept her face completely covered most of the time, Mels sure knew what to do with it. That little thrust of the chin, the movement of her lips, the way her hands were kneading her ass. Untying them had been a very good idea.

She'd had to take a power dampening shot eventually. It had been discretely delivered by one of Anansi's bugs but she knew Faultline had seen it from her smug expression. Hence this little moment of catharsis and pleasure.

Cherie had had to leave. She knew it was because there were other clients, other things to do, but Lisa wanted to think it was because she'd beaten her so thoroughly. She still had the traces of the splitting headache she'd gained from her efforts, but it had been so worth it. To have Faultline writhing under touch, following her command.

Certainly Mels seemed to be enjoying herself. Her tongue flicked in and out of Lisa again and she shuddered. Fuck but she was good with that.

Maybe one day it would be Taylor down there. Until then — well, she had the next best thing.

Poker Night At The Loft

(Автор: Coruscant Knave)

"What, exactly," Taylor tried, unsuccessfully, to keep her voice calm and level, "am I looking at, here?"

"You know what you're looking at, dork," Alec waggled his eyebrows and jerked his head toward the shirtless man sitting next to him. Brian moved to swat at him, but nearly spilled several of the open containers that decorated the table between them. He flinched back from the near-miss, using careful and exaggerated motions to steady the long-necked bottles while Alec chuckled at his expense.

Lisa pulled out a chair and made insistent gestures, leading to Taylor taking the empty spot between the other two girls and across from the boys. She took in the sights one more time — all of the sights — and then sent a questioning look to the only person that would likely give something resembling an answer.

"Strip poker, obviously," Lisa said after a ginger sip of her own drink. The bottle did little to hide her expression.

Taylor let herself have one more moment to observe her friends. Brian was shirtless. Alec appeared to be in an undershirt and dress pants. Rachel had only a sports bra and boxers and didn't seem to be the least bit bothered by it. She was ignoring the exchange and petting Angelica. Lisa was fully dressed.

"Obviously. But why?"

"Why not?" Alec supplied helpfully.

"Team building is important," Brian imparted gravely, but still seemed very concerned that the items around him might fall over at any time.

"Pretty boy said he'd buy dog food for a week if I played."

"Aww, you think I'm pretty?"

Her answering smile was not warm or inviting.

Lisa just grinned harder and pushed a freshly opened beer into Taylor's hand. She looked at it like it would bite for a moment before pushing it back towards the blond. "I shouldn't."

Alec snickered. Brian, while she didn't think he was looking down on her, seemed a bit sad at the denial. Lisa closed her hand around the beverage, trapping Taylor's. "It'll be fine. You'll have fun, and I'll keep an eye on you." She winked, then, and Taylor got the impression she was counting the articles of clothing she wore.

"This is peer pressure! You're peer pressuring me!" She looked around as if suddenly realizing where she was before gasping, "You're villains!"

The sound of Angelica's happy panting filled the silent room.

Brian was the first to let the humor show, and Taylor was mighty distracted by his smile and his pecs when Alec barked out a laugh. This just startled Angelica and irritated Rachel. Lisa looked on in stunned silence.

"Holy shit, she has a sense of humor. A terrible one, but I was kinda starting to suspect you were a robot. A creepy robot." Taylor's reply was flipping him off while taking an overconfident pull from the beer. She managed not to choke on it, but it was a close thing.

It was only when she'd been dealt her second card that Taylor realized the game was resuming and she was apparently included. "Hey, wait! I never said I was playing!"

"Chill, it's risk free. You only strip if you bet an item of clothing and lose. If your hand sucks, just fold. Of course, If someone else bets a piece of clothing you'd like to see go..."

She spared a moment to glance at her cards — turning up just the edges, cupped by her other hand and only just enough that she could barely make them out by leaning back and twisting her head to the side — before looking back up. Coincidentally, this happened to mean her gaze fell on the spot where Brian's abdomen disappeared below the edge of the table. Alec did not look like he would believe in coincidences at just this moment, and she refused to look in Lisa's direction. She merely pushed the cards forward and studied the very fascinating label of her beer.

The game went on for a while. Three full beers if Taylor had been paying attention. She'd gone for a fourth, but Lisa took it from her for some reason and gave her a can of soda instead. This was confusing, but the soda was pretty good, too. Rachel had been oddly aggressive with her betting and though she'd actually gotten Alec's shirt, she'd paid for it with the rest of her modesty. This was the only logical explanation Taylor could come up with for the show she'd put on when she bent down to collect her belongings before strolling casually from the room with Angelica in tow.

Alec had wolf-whistled, though it seemed perfunctory. Brian hadn't not looked away, which didn't concern Taylor at all. Lisa was still being ignored.

"Anyway," Alec resumed after dealing another round, "aand I fold."

"Pants." What? Did Brian just say...

"What?" Everyone was looking at her, now. Maybe that was louder and sudden-er than she'd planned?

"I'm betting my pants," Brian clarified with a smirk.

"Oh." Taylor casually checked her hand. Three kings was good, wasn't it? "Uh, shirt, I guess?"

"Glad to see you're participating, Kiddo. But it's Lisa's turn." Being called Kiddo by someone who was younger than her burned, but she let it slide. She was also still ignoring Lisa.

"Shirt!" Lisa's grin could be felt. Was there a level above ignoring? She'd need to look into it. And why was she betting now?

"Still in?"

"Yeah..."


* * *

Taylor yawned into her pillow while squeezing it tight and trying to blink away the sleep. The stabbing pain in her skull was set aside for the realization that her pillow was, though very comfortable, warm and hard. There was also something in her mouth. She reached in and pulled out a tiny black hair. That was weird.

As the world resolved and she took in her surroundings, the pillow puzzle was set aside for something more immediate: Lisa was laying across from her, seemingly in nothing but a t-shirt, wide eyes staring through her. She was muttering quietly to herself, something Taylor couldn't quite make out. She looked blankly from the hair between her fingers to the drool-covered chocolate nipple inches from her face and then back to Lisa, who just nodded mechanically.

Taylor, for her part, was naked except the Armsmaster boxers she'd taken to wearing ironically. Brian was in briefs and snoring lightly with an arm around each of the girls. She slowly began extricating he self from the traitorously comfortable pile. Brian didn't stir at the movement, but Taylor almost screamed when she mistakenly leveraged herself on his crotch. His damp, sticky crotch.

First, she confirmed her fears with a glance south. Yeah, that's what she thought. Then, she glared accusingly at the offending nipple. This time, she noticed it was slightly discolored and had a few markings that looked suspiciously like bites. Finally, she got a second opinion from Lisa. Mechanical nod.

Panicked, she jumped up and fled toward her room, arms wrapped around herself. She'd barely taken a step away when a cloud of darkness fell on her from the shoulders down. Turning around, she found Brian smiling apologetically at her.

Later, recalling the particulars of his power, she couldn't decide if she was actually mad or not. She settled on "it was sweet anyway," considering what she'd done to him...

Well, at least one thing was certain: Lisa lost poker night.

Control

(Автор: DoggySoup)

Okay, the idea is that due to shard and butterfly shenanigans (Inspired by the Master!Emma causes everything prompt and one of my own ideas) Emma gets a mix of Regent and Khepri, with added trumpyness cause it's a bud of QA she has.

It's me writing this so expect darkness ahead.


* * *

"Taylor, you totally look great in braids!"

Emma smiled as she slowly braided Taylor's hair bit by bit. Her friend was absolutely still, staring into the mirror with a content smile on her face.

"Thank you, Emma!" replied Taylor cheerily.

Emma finished the last braid and Taylor got up before walking over to sit beside Sophia on the bed. Emma swiveled in her seat on the dresser and gave the pair an appraising look. Taylor's hair was in braids, set up to look like a set of twintails. Sophia's hair was arranged in pigtails. There was a dash of make-up applied; blusher and lip balm for the pair of them.

"You were both good tonight," Emma said sweetly. "It's not every day you get to beat up someone like Lung. I'm so proud of you, Taylor."

With that, Emma released a fraction of her control. Taylor's mouth whimpered for a moment.

"Th-Thank you," she mumbled.

"Speak up, Taylor."

"Thank you." Taylor didn't say it that time.

"Good girl. You are so good, you know that?"

As she spoke, both girls felt the rush of endorphins slowly trickle into their bodies. Some of it was Emma, but the rest was simply a reaction to her praise.

Emma sighed and sat straight in her seat.

"You know the routine for our sleepovers. Do it."

Both Taylor and Sophia were released and they scrambled off the bed and began reaching under it. They pulled out their cases containing their costumes and placed their masks — One for Ladybug and one for Shadow Girl — and put them on. Shadow Girl paused momentarily to take a deep sigh before putting the rest of her costume away. Skintight silk that was made in a way that it rubbed all her sensitive, erogenous areas with every step and movement.

She hurriedly stripped from her pajamas and folded them in a pile at the same time as Taylor. Emma was stern about making a mess.

After that, they both got on all fours as Emma walked up to them before turning to face away from her bed, between the pair.

"Good night, Miss."

"G-good night, Miss."

Both girls kissed Emma's painted toes. Taylor on the left, Sophia on the right. They kissed again, moving from the toes to the bridge of the foot, then the ankles. Taylor gently grasped Emma's calve as she crawled up and Sophia pulled Emma's pajama pants down. Both girls gently pushed Emma onto the bed and moved down to her crotch. Taylor climbed up the bed and began to kiss Emma's mouth while Sophia got to work below. Emma moaned as both of her girls worked in sync, refusing to giver her a second the breathe.

Taylor pulled her exploring tongue from Emma's mouth, leaving a thin trail of drool hanging between their lips. "Ah!" gasped Emma. Taylor bit her lip and began giving kisses to Emma's neck twice before moving her red hair back and nibbling on her ear.

Emma grabbed Sophia's pigtails with both hands as Taylor moved back and pulled the black girl further into her crotch.

The idea to leave mouthholes was ingenious, Emma thought as Sophia brought her to orgasm.

Emma let go and fell back, taking control of the pair and making them dress her. She drifted off to slumber as she make the Taylor and Sophia remove their masks and lock themselves in their special beds.


* * *

Taylor stumbled backwards onto the puddles in the alley. No matter what she tried, she couldn't do anything. Her bugs were mysteriously unresponsive. They just stopped.

Mistress slowly walked forwards, Shadow Girl behind her.

"Can't speak?" The villainess asked mockingly.

Taylor couldn't move her jaw. She was paralysed. She couldn't get away.

"You know, this is the most happy accident. I never knew you had powers, Taylor."

Taylor flinched.

"Oh, I know your name, alright." She stopped over her prone captive. "So does my little pet behind me."

Shadow Girl took off her mask and looked right at Taylor.

"I'm sorry," Sophia swallowed. "She-"

Mistress cut off Sophia. "We'll let our little ear know everything soon enough," She turned back to Taylor as Sophia put her mask back on. "I'll teach her all the tricks you know, Sophie."

Sex-Arcade Booth 512

(Автор: Darik29)

Subject: Taylor Hebert/Weaver

Occupation: Super Heroine

Hourly Charge: $300.00

Aquisition Date: 15/10/2015

Acquisition Level: Medium Hard

Aquisition Notes:

Subject was noted originally as a minimal threat rating given proper protective gear, and the mission was in mid planning stages before new information was supplied, and this changed.

Given the the sheer risk inherent in Weaver's powers being loose at any point during the capture process, the Hunter squad was outfitted with a neural disrupted, alongside several power suppressant devices, given subjects previous instance of power usage when unconscious.

Deciding on where to remove the subject from the timeline proved difficult. There was only a narrow point in time where Weaver would be considered vulnerable to our Hunter squads. Before falling under the protection of entities beyond the strength of our Hunter Squads to defeat. As such, a trap was required, and various infiltrators were used in a limited capacity to engender such a situation.

40 hours prior to capture, several Hunter Squad members approached various villainous and mercenary groups in the Earth Bet dimension. After sufficient bribery, they were coerced into setting up a major ambush to allow our Hunter Squad a chance to recover the subject.

At at the time of contact, subject Weaver was patrolling the local downtown area with allied super heroine Cuff when the trap was sprung. A lucky shot with the neural disruptor early in the conflict disabled Weaver temporarily, allowing for the staged ambush to easily overpower Cuff and take her away. Unfortunately, though the neural disruptor successfully disabled her powers, they did not actually knock her unconscious. Weaver proved this by stabbing Hunter 3-3 through the femoral artery with a hidden blade, and managing to kill Hunter 3-4 and cause significant bruising of Hunter 3-1 and 3-5 before a second shot with the neural disruptor finally managed to knock the subject unconscious.

Extraction was significantly easier than subject capture. Thanks to the majority of local heroes chasing the hired mercenaries and there captive, Hunter 3 was able to successfully reach the extraction zone and return to the Arcade, where Subject Weaver was off loaded to Processing.

This is subject is responsible for more Hunter Squad deaths and injuries than over a hundred previous captures, without a Very Hard capture rating. Significant security is recommended, above and beyond standard measures.

Powers For A Price

(Автор: Gideon020)

Part 1: A Cliche'd Introduction And A Sales Pitch

Time stopped for Taylor, literally, as she struggled in the garbage and as objects floated and then hung in mid-air, the smell began to fade until it vanished entirely, leaving a bewildered teenager to look around the cramped space as best she could. Suddenly, the filth and locker walls fell away and with a yelp she landed on her butt, looking around in a small panic.

"Sorry about that." Hearing the male voice, Taylor looked up to see a man standing above her at a right-angle before he hopped down to her, "Don't worry, everyone freaks out when this happens. Name's Bob Doe, and I'm a salesman."

"Salesman?" Taylor asked confusedly as she continued to look around, "Where am I? What's happening?"

"Now, now, calm down. To answer the first question, yes I am a salesman. To the second question, you're in a moment outside of time and space. As of this moment, time outside the locker and this space has frozen and will not resume until we've completed our business. And as for what's happening? Taylor Hebert, I have come to you today with an opportunity to purchase your very own powers!"

Smiling as he said that last part, Bob waved his arms and images appeared of people wearing uniforms, and capes. Taylor was about to say 'Parahumans' when Bob continued speaking, "These are not Parahumans, but super-powered beings from other worlds, other realities beyond the ones that are known to you and to certain others. Before, these heroes, and villains because we are entirely impartial, were once normal men and women who wanted more out of life. Some wanted to make a difference, others wanted power, and some just wanted to stand out from others."

Bob smiled, "And you can have any powers you want, Miss Hebert, all for the-"

"Trying to scam another one, Bob?" The second male voice, a harsh growl to Bob Doe's slick tone, drew both people's attention to a man in a black suit, face hidden by a mask, "Not giving the client full details of what they will be in for can and will be considered negligent action by the Head Office. Not only that, you didn't give her your card in case she wants to contact you later. Another offense."

"Fuck you Thorn!" Bob's easy expression shifted into a snarl, "I get sales! I don't do that cherry-picking bullshit like you do!"

"I cherry-pick because I earned that right, Doe." 'Thorn' responded calmly, "But your sloppiness means that things always go bad. Not only that, you're trying to force a clearly traumatized teenage girl into making a life-changing decision without knowing all the details. Consenting adults who have time to think is one thing, teenagers who have been stuffed into a locker is another. And Head Office is not going to let that slide."

Thorn approached Taylor, "Miss, I'm sorry this happened, but Bob Doe here crossed a line and was about to commit a criminal act in order to make a fast sale." His hand lashed up and before Taylor could blink, Bob suddenly vanished in a burst of television static, "And the punishment for crossing the line is outlined in the employee handbook." Sighing as a black, ribbon-like tendril slithered back into his sleeve, Thorn turned to Taylor, "Sorry about this. You got involved in an internal investigation that unfortunately turned out like this. If you want, I can return yo-"

"NO!" Taylor shouted, "I mean, no, I don't want to go back into the locker. Couldn't you just put me outside?"

Thorn shook his head slightly, "Unfortunately, that's not something I can do...hmm, not unless you requested it as a sold service. No, I can't in good conscience do that after you nearly got scammed by Bob here." Thorn shrugged, "I'm sorry, but-"

"Give me the sales pitch." Taylor growled, "What he said before, those reason, are they true?"

"Making a difference? Desiring power? Wanting to be different? Yeah, all true. Some even do it because the standard of getting powers from us is an overall cosmetic improvement." Thorn shrugged, "You won't be a supermodel or porn star, not unless you request that kind of look, but most clients end up looking prettier in most aspects."

"Then give me the sales pitch." Taylor repeated, "The one that tells me what I'm going to be getting myself into. You must have some idea of what my life is like just from that locker alone-"

"Actually, we can pull up a file..." Thorn interrupted as he waved a hand to create a green window that began displaying text that while Taylor couldn't read, her photo appearing allowed her to guess what it was. Thorn then grimaced, "Geez, no wonder Bob went to you, a file like this...Okay, I can see why you'd want powers. So, I guess I'll take you as a potential client."

Thorn waved his hand and the screen vanished, "First thing's first. My card." A flick and a white card was in his outstretched hand, which Taylor took with a nod, "The card is special, but that's for after the pitch. This is first. I belong to a company that spans realities and dimensions which for your benefit will be called Head Office. As a commissioned salesman of Head Office, I am authorized to offer you the chance to gain superhuman abilities."

"So you can make me into a Parahuman?" Taylor asked but her expression became confused as Thorn shook his head.

"No. Parahumans possess the unique brain structures and...another quality that makes them what they are and is identifiable. The service I provide will give you powers that have no identifiable origin or make use of energies that cannot be duplicated. Within a certain limit, you will appear no different than you are now, expect maybe a bit prettier. Beyond a certain limit, you have to pay a Cost."

He cleared his throat, "But first, you need to know the Rules that we operate by," He spared a glance at the space behind him where Bob used to be standing, "Or should."

Thorn held up a finger, "Rule One: The Client, you, must give consent to receiving the sales pitch."

"Oh yeah, I give consent," Taylor said.

"Rule Two." Thorn continued without pause, "The Salesman, me, is required to give the full sales pitch in as much detail as possible, and to answer any questions to the best of their ability."

At Taylor's silence, Thorn help up another finger, "Rule Three: The Client, you, must understand that there is a Cost to having powers beyond a certain limit. Rule Four: The Salesman is required to explain the Cost and what it entails so that the Client can choose whether to continue their decision or rethink it."

Rolling his shoulders, Thorn flicked his hand as more tendrils created a seat for him, "And finally, Rule Five: The Client is allowed a grace period of 14 days to test out their powers and if need be adjust or replace them with new ones. They are also allowed to change their powers at the end of the grace period, but will not be allowed a new grace period."

Taylor nodded, now looking far more at ease, "Okay, what's the pitch?"

"Actually, Bob gave you most of it." Thorn replied simply, shoulders shaking slightly as Taylor's eyes widened before she shot him a dirty look and he held up his hands, "Sorry, but the main gist of mine is the same. However, unlike Bob, I will tell you the main part of The Cost."

This time, Taylor felt as though the masked man was looking at her with deadly seriousness, "The Cost is an effect, a trade-off, for asking for power beyond a limit that the Salesman feels is necessary based on their assessment of the client. It's meant to act as a deterrent to thoughtless power-grabbing, usually by being either humiliating or having collateral consequences."

"Humiliating?" Taylor asked out loud and Thorn nodded.

"Well, it differs between salesmen. For me, I've found that sexualising the Cost has always proven effective. Most people aren't often willing to put up with, say, having visibly massive breasts or dick in exchange for an overpowered mind-control power because that Cost always means that people need to be looking at those parts." Taylor started giggling despite the serious tone and Thorn nodded, "Yup. You'd be surprised how easily some people reconsider when the price for power is constant exhibitionism, or a dramatically increased libido, or anything else. So long as they feel humiliated by the thought and reconsider, they usually make a better decision."

"What if they go through with it?" Taylor inquired.

Thorn shrugged, "Then they're not only sexy and sex-starved, but incredibly powerful and dangerous. A person who can cast aside personal dignity for power is not a person to take lightly." He offered a hand at Taylor, "So, knowing that any Cost I attach to powers I view as overpowered will often mean anything from porno tits to nymphomania, are you still willing to go through with this, Taylor Hebert?"

Taylor considered her options for a long, long moment, before looking up at Thorn and taking his hand.

"Let's get started."


* * *

Part 2: What The Customer Wants, They Get

"Let's begin first by showing you the Catalogue," Thorn started and a wave of the hand brought a thick book into existance, "This is the superpowers sale catalogue for the 32225 PF Financial Year, the largest and most comprehensive list of powers for general sale offered by Head Office." He handed the book to Taylor, "All powers have their attendant prices attached, so feel free to browse, we have plenty of time."

Taylor snorted as she accepted the catalogue, of course there was plenty of time when time literally wasn't going anywhere, "Thanks. Is there an index?"

"First page after the customer advisory," Thorn answered as he pulled out a small black device and began fiddling with it, "When you're ready, tell me your choices, or just ask me any questions you might have. I need to check some business emails and messages." As he leaned back on his ribbon-tendril chair, Taylor shrugged and opened up the catalogue to find the advisory in question.

WARNING TO CLIENTS: Do not be reckless about your power choices. All Salesmen have legal authority from the Absolute Trade Mandate to impose The Cost of their choice on power over a limit defined by the Salesman. Always be aware that as the Client, you have final say in accepting the powers and that you MUST give consent in all circumstances and are legally within your rights and obligations to ask for clarification on any topic.

"I'm guessing people don't read the warning?" Taylor asked, glancing up to see Thorn shrug in reply, "Right, of course they don't." Flipping the page, Taylor began reading through the extensive list of choices, before thumbing pages to flick to a specific power.

Weapon Creation: Create a single weapon, or multiple weapons, of the Client's choice from nothing.

Limit: As set by Salesman.

Cost: As set by Salesman.

Price: $4000 in local currency.

Taylor winced, four thousand dollars for the power to create weapons from nothing was pretty pricey but upon thinking about it, it seemed fairly manageable as she looked up, "What's the Limit for Weapon Creation?"

Thorn looked up from his phone and gave Taylor a glance before replying, "Multiple, permanent weapons of any kind. Unlimited ammunition of any kind goes over the Limit." He cocked his head slightly, "Right. The Cost from me is that you have a compulsion to basically do cheesecake posing."

Taylor blinked, "Cheesecake posing?"

Thorn shrugged, "In a nutshell? You have an urge to pose with your weapons in sexy and/or provocative positions with a noticeably minimal amount of clothing. Short skirts that flash your underwear, wearing tight or cleavage-revealing shirts, that sort of clothing. And the poses could range to bending over just far enough to let people peek to positioning your weapon in just the right place."

Taylor tapped her chin, so far it didn't sound too bad, "Doesn't seem too bad so far. Especially with what you said about cosmetic enhancement."

Thorn shrugged, "Well, the effect does get stronger when you're in public or being photographed." He tapped his phone, "Also, you'll have a preference for big weapons, particularly for posing."

"Why would I need big weapons?" Taylor questioned, and Thorn stared at her with his blank mask before it clicked and she flushed, "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. At least you'll be able to carry and use them without getting thrown about by the recoil." Thorn replied as he returned his attention to his phone, "At least you'll be a hit with the gun lobbyists." He chuckled at Taylor's sour look before she went back to browsing.

Checking the index again, Taylor thumbed through the catalogue to another page and one of the powers listed that had caught her attention. This one seemed interesting to her eyes as she read through the details.

Wide-Range Control Field: Creates a 20-foot field that passively alerts the power bearer to living beings and provides details on their mood, current actions, line of sight and hearing range. Active usage allows bearer to take total control of specific people within range with unlimited multi-tasking.

Limit: Set by Salesman

Cost: Set by Salesman

Price: $15,000 in local currency

Taylor winced; the price was perfectly fine when taken in context with such a powerful ability, but it was still pricey as hell. Even so, Taylor felt strangely drawn to having such an ability, she didn't know why but it felt right for her to have that kind of power. Maybe it was just her repressed sense of vengeance wanting her to use it to put the Trio through even worse shit than what they did to her?

Shrugging, Taylor made a mental note before her eyes went lower and she felt a grin creep onto her face.

Active Mental Rewriting/Compulsion: Requires eye contact, but allows user to completely rewrite memories and personalities or simply browse through the victim's mind at will. Will cause mental trauma when used.

Her eyes skipped over the Limit and Cost to look at the price. It was cheaper than the wide-range control power but only just; $11,500 in local currency. But by now Taylor's mind was thinking of the two powers being used in tandem, and while she knew that she'd prefer to use her powers for good, Taylor was also sorely tempted by the opportunities for revenge now that she had a chance to really calm down and think about her situation.

If she could rewrite those three to leave her alone and encourage others to stop for perhaps some simple reason like boredom, Taylor could hopefully start to get her life back. Didn't she deserve to have a life? One that didn't involve mauled books, juice and soda dumpings or getting stuffed inside her fucking locker with garbage?

Nodding to herself, dark thoughts clouding her mood, Taylor dog-eared the page to go along with the weapon creation power before flicking back to the index and browsing the list again before her eyes fell on another power and she immediately went to the page that had it, her smile now much wider as she read the description.

Powered Projection Creation: Create a projection, human or otherwise, possessing either single powers or a limited library of powers. Unlimited number of projections allowed with attendant unlimited multi-tasking. Unlimited range.

Her eyes skipped down to the price.

Price: $16,000,000 in local currency.

A sixteen-million-dollar power, and there were similar ones there, but Taylor was already imagining what she could do with that kind of power. She could make an army of capes, ones that could help with anything from rescuing people to fighting Endbringers! She could give them powers like the Siberian and take down the Slaughterhouse 9, or maybe create her own duplicates of the Triumvirate with modifications, this would be perfect!

And then Taylor's mind considered the catalogue in her hands as her eyes flicked to the 'limited library' part of the description. Could she? Thorn had pretty much told her what he would set as a Cost for powers over his Limit, and if she did what she was thinking of, what would he set down? A compulsive addiction to masturbation? Exhibitionism? Turn her into a cock-hungry slut?

And there was the price to consider. Sixteen million was not spare change, and Taylor was not looking forward to potentially using her power for crime before she could use it but at the same time there was the fact she could just raid the gangs for money since they seemed to have all of it anyway. But the gangs all had their own Capes as well...

Taylor quickly flicked back to the index and then to another page, smiling as she saw 'Power Copier' and 'Power Modifier' on the page. And for a comparative bargain at a few thousand dollars each. If she had that go with her...Taylor shook her head slightly, was she really going to go through with this?

A quick glance showed Thorn was still busy with his phone and for a moment Taylor was tempted to tell him what she had planned, to see how he would react. But wouldn't that also be a confirmation of her intentions? For a moment, actual doubt crept into Taylor's thoughts as she remembered that if she did this, she would have to accept whatever Cost was given by Thorn, and he wouldn't be gentle about it, Taylor had that feeling that he couldn't care less if the client was a stranger or his best friend, he'd stick to his rules.

Taylor looked up, "Do you have a pen and paper?"

"Need to do some math huh?" Thorn replied, pulling out a black notebook, "Here, the pen's on the inside of the cover." Tossing it over, Taylor easily caught it.

"Thank you." She began scribbling down numbers and names on an empty page as she considered her own feelings about what she was planning. She was excited, that was to be expected when you had the chance to literally buy powers that didn't involve becoming a Parahuman. But when she actually thought about it, Taylor knew that she was also scared of what the Cost would be if she went beyond the set limits, which she knew that she was going to be doing.

The money wasn't a concern. She'd raid the gangs and hand over the cash to pay for the powers she used to do the raids with, and since she was an unknown no-one could link her to another gang or the Protectorate.

Joining the Protectorate was likely a no-go, PR was important to them and a heroine who pretty much had to dress like a stripper because of her powers? A Ward who had to do the same? Taylor dismissed the idea as unworkable. Besides, she didn't want to be the slut in the middle of a team that did in fact have several teenage boys in it. That would be tempting fate way too much.

'And in the end it all comes down to that, doesn't it? Power in exchange for the body and tendencies of a slut along with whatever else tacked on. At least I'll get what I paid for, so it's a fair deal...' Taylor frowned as she remembered Thorn's earlier words, 'A person who can cast aside her own personal dignity for power is not only a powerful person, but a dangerous one as well. I get it, because they're willing to put it all on the line in the first place.'

Grimacing, Taylor made her decision, 'Fuck it. I've been a punching bag for Emma and her cronies for too long. I turn into a slut? Fine, I'll post videos of me getting gang-banged by people I've taken control of and if Emma tries to take this away from me, I'll just air every last bit of dirty laundry she has locked in her head!'

Nodding, Taylor stood up and walked towards Thorn, who put away his phone while turning towards her, "Made your decision or decisions?" Taylor handed over her list with all of the details she wanted in relation to the powers written down, "Okay, let's just take a look at thi-" Thorn glanced back at Taylor before back at the notebook in his hand, "Uh...Miss Hebert, what do you mean by 'all of them' for the Projection Creation power?"

Taylor held up the catalogue, "Every power here, and any that are added when it gets updated. All of them." Thorn was about to speak when Taylor interrupted him, "And yes, I know this is over the limit. So I accept whatever Cost you give me."

"It's not that, Taylor..." Thorn started to say, "It's the fact that what you're asking for has never been done." At Taylor's raised eyebrow Thorn sighed, "I...I need to make a phonecall. I'm serious, no-one has ever asked for something like this. Excuse me." He stepped away and held his phone to his ear, although Taylor couldn't tell since Thorn seemed to be perpetually wreathed in shadows around his head while she listened to one half of the conversation.

"Hey, it's me, Thorn. I got a client here asking for DSG-six-six-two-dash-E, and she wants the entire catalogue as the library...No, I am not joking, she even specified getting new powers when the catalogue updates...Number two-two-five-dot-A-dot-seven-nine-dot-D...Yes, she's standing behind me right now...Then put me through to Mikal please...My supervisor...Mikal, it's Thorn. Yeah, doing good. Listen, did that idiot in the call center tell you the reason I'm calling? Good...Yeah, that's the file...I know, that's why I'm calling...You need to send this up the chain? How far up the chain? Oh...Yeah, I can hold...Hello Ma'am...Yes, that is correct...Should I recommend-...I see...I understand...yes, Ma'am."

Hanging up the phone call, Thorn walked back to Taylor, "Okay...so apparently your file and your request caught someone's attention higher up in Head Office. I can give you what you're asking for...but there's a serious catch."

Taylor nodded, "Okay, what is it?"

Thorn sighed, "You must forgo the 14-day grace period that is typically allowed for clients, and instead gather and pay the total cost of the powers during that period. You must acknowledge and accept at Limits assigned by taking these powers. Finally, you are required to sign this form." In a flash of light, a black sheet of paper with glowing gold script appeared, "This is Form 66-D, also known as the Black Form. By signing this, you are legally giving away your right to be contacted by Head Office and Salesmen like me or contact us in turn. By signing this, you are also confirming that these are the powers you want."

Thorn sighed, "As part of legal obligations, I must ask if you have truly considered the ramifications of what you are asking, not just in the monetary cost, but in what I, as a Salesman, will impose upon you physically and mentally?"

Taylor was silent for a moment, before she looked up at Thorn's masked face, "I want power, I want to make a difference, and I want to stand out. I take responsibility for my decision." She held out her hand and Thorn handed over the form.

"You have requested Weapon Creation, Power Copying, Power Modification, Wide-Area Control, Mental Compulsion/Rewriting and Powered Projection Creation. You will owe Head Office a sum of 16,022,300 dollars in local currency, to be paid in exactly fourteen days from the completion of this transaction to me. You are free to use your new powers in order to acquire the necessary funds." Thorn motioned to Taylor's pocket, "Please prick your finger with a pin and place a drop of blood on the business card you were given when you have the funds to pay. It will contact me and I will arrive to receive the payment."

Taylor nodded as Thorn sighed, "Okay, now I tell you what Costs I'm going to saddle you with. Power Copying and Manipulation are fine. Weapon Creation, as dictated in your request, will result in a mental compulsion to wear as little clothing as possible, use the biggest weapons possible and be compelled to move and pose in public as provocatively and sexually as possible."

Taylor nodded.

Thorn continued, "Wide Area Control and Mental Rewriting will come with a cosmetic enhancement before you will receive enlarged breasts and minor mental compulsion to use both in a sexually dominating manner within reasonable limits. Since you will be showing off as much as possible, the memory-fogging effect you wanted will guarantee that people will remember your tits and little else."

Taylor flushed a little, but still nodded.

"And finally, Powered Projection Creation. Since your request was so extreme, this is the most extreme I can place upon you while still remaining within the legal guidelines for abuse of power. Taylor Hebert, since your powers will involve you building and birthing new super-powered projections on the fly, you're going to do that literally."

Taylor blinked, "Huh?"

Thorn flipped through another notebook, "It's a fetish known as rapid pregnancy and birth. To clarify, you will be giving birth to biological drones that you will control as defined in the power description, and so seamlessly you could hold a conversation on the other side of the universe while talking with your Dad. And yes, I mean that literally, because we still haven't defined the exact range of the projections yet." He shrugged, "In any case, its now your fetish."

Taylor blinked, "My...fetish?"

"Yup." Thorn replied simply, "You can still have kids the normal way, nine-months and all during which the power will be inactive to prevent miscarriages, but these drones will be born in minutes and mature in minutes, require no sustenance or sleep and are basically immortal unless they get killed. And using this power to create them will get you hornier than a slut in a Spring Break porno vid. Finally, you no longer need to sleep."

"I don't need sleep?" Taylor inquired, suddenly feeling curious.

"It's a requirement. Most who take powers with similar libido-supercharging Costs tend to be unable to sleep in the first place because they're too busy humping their pillows at night." Thorn explained reasonably, "So, we just get rid of your need to sleep, since you'll probably be using your new powers to fuck yourself silly every night."

He held out a pen, and Taylor looked at it, before looking at the form with a nervous look. Then her expression firmed and she took pen and quickly signed before her doubts crept back in. In an instant the form vanished to be replaced with a plain white pill vacuum-sealed in plastic that Taylor quickly took and stuffed into her pocket.

"Take that catalyst pill when you get home, not in the school. Part of company policy is to induce a normalizing effect when the pill is taken, so your new physical form doesn't jar anyone who knows you, but only if it happens in private." Thorn explained.

"Wait, if I'm going back, it'll be into the locker, and I'll be stuck!" Taylor suddenly exclaimed, but Thorn shook his head.

"The lock will fail in two minutes. I suggest just going home after that so you can get mentally prepared for what you've gotten yourself into." He checked his watch, "Okay, we're done here. Incidentally, the first time you use the projection creation power, you might feel a slight tingling sensation in your lower abdomen."

With that, Thorn vanished, and Taylor felt body suddenly seize up and shift itself into the uncomfortable position she had been in before this whole event started. Then the smell started to return and waft into her nose.

Even knowing what was going to happen, Taylor still screamed as the walls of the locker and the garbage contained within came rushing back at her. And then there was darkness.

At first Taylor was afraid she was going to be stuck in the locker regardless of what Thorn had said but then, as if my magic, the combination lock began to rotate and rattle until the locker door popped open and Taylor collapsed onto the floor with a retching gasp as garbage flowed around her. Carefully shifting her head to try and breath in as much clean air as possible, Taylor shakily rose to her feet, grabbed her bag and looked around.

No-one was in the halls and a quick check of her watch told her that yes, only two minutes had passed since the start of that whole, strange experience. One that Taylor wasn't sure was real until she slipped a hand into her pants pocket and felt a plastic packet with a single hard lump in the middle. Looking around while swallowing heavily to keep herself from throwing up, Taylor pressed the pill further down into her pocket and slung her stained bag over her shoulder.

She didn't look back as she left and headed home.

Getting home was thankfully fast and quiet; Taylor made sure to sit at the very back of the bus, and when she got off at her stop she simply jogged home, reaching it without any incident as she skipped over the creaky step and quickly opened the door. Dad would still be at work, so Taylor knew she had plenty of time to shower and then get ready for her new life.

After the morning she had been through, and that whole situation with those two Salesmen, Taylor was glad for the fact that her room had an ensuite bathroom like her parent's room as she stepped into the shower and for the first time since getting stuffed in that locker, let it all out under the hot water.

Leaving the shower and feeling a bit more refreshed and unburdened, Taylor padded over to the pill she had fished out of her pants pocket and placed on her desk, regarding it with a thoughtful eye. If what Thorn had said was correct, this would be how she would gain her new powers and by that same measure apparently subtly change the universe so people who knew her in any way wouldn't look twice at her.

'Well, not until I start dressing slutty and stop wearing a bra or underwear.' Taylor thought with a small giggle, 'Maybe I could get a modeling gig and show her up? Nah, that might make things worse. Right now, being sexier than her will be a victory in itself.'

Carefully tearing open the plastic and fishing out the pill, Taylor inhaled deeply, "Okay, Dad won't be home for a few hours, so here goes nothing." She quickly swallowed the pill dry, grimacing at the taste, "Yuck, I hope this wo-"

She couldn't say anything more as a wave of agony ripped through her and she was on her knees.


* * *

Part 3: Another Satisfied Customer

The agony was intense; a constant pulsing of pain that engulfed every part of Taylor's body with sensations that felt like insects and worse were crawling under her skin as she tried to breath normally than succumb to the urge to hyper-ventilate as the pulses continued to intensify as she looked down through tear-blurred eyes at her body.

And gasped as she saw what was happening. With every pulse, her breasts were steadily expanding, pushing outwards with every painful surge and growing steadily heavier as Taylor scrubbed her eyes so she could watch the change more clearly, before she noticed her hands and watched as the skin started to tan lightly.

Struggling to stand through the pain and the continual shifting of her center of gravity, wobbling slightly with every unsteady step, Taylor managed to come into view of her room's mirror. And even with the pain causing her to grit her teeth, the changes were now becoming much more obvious than her ballooning chest.

The rest of her body was slowly filling out as well. Her skinny frame was slowly filling with muscle, definition coming into view as she shifted and twisted her body, watching as her stomach flattened before lines creased down into her skin and outlined her new, developing six-pack as it pushed outwards.

Running a finger across them in mild disbelief, Taylor felt the hard muscle before testing her own arms before her hands swept down to her legs, feeling new muscle growing under the skin.

Ignoring her swollen breasts and the tingling, electric sensation that was now dominating her nipples, Taylor shifted her body to get a better look as her hips began to widen under hands before they traced to her slowly growing butt.

By now the agony was still fresh and raw, still pulsing with every heartbeat, but Taylor's own fascination at her changing body allowed her to ignore it beyond the occasional hiss of pain and some gritted teeth under wide lips that were now becoming fuller, quicker to pout or smile than frown, while her eyes seemed to shine with a clearer, brighter gleam to match the shine in her hair.

Finally, Taylor's hand slipped down to a spot she had been half-dreading to test out but before she could do more but shudder at the electric sensation of her middle finger touching her clit, a sudden and massive surge of agony ripped through her as the final changes occurred, knocking Taylor onto her new, plump, ass while her breasts swelled one last time before dipping slightly from the weight, now capped by a set of hard, fat nipples.

And with that, sitting with her legs spread slightly apart on the carpet covering her bedroom floor, Taylor was able to see her body; staring back at her in the mirror was a tanned, athletic beauty with wide, womanly hips and a pair of massive breasts that managed to work with her figure to be just unrealistic enough to be alluring. Wide, bright green eyes stared from a face with a pair of full lips that seemed to be always ready to pout or smile under a head of dark, curly hair.

For a long moment, Taylor Hebert simply stared, before her lips curled into a wide, laughing smile, "YES! IT WORKED!" Flopping onto her back, her mountainous tits bouncing and flopping with the motion, Taylor simply started laughing as she crowed to the ceiling, "Hah! I'm hotter than Emma now, and I have powers to boot!"

She rolled onto her stomach, looking back as she wiggled her new butt, "Heh, not bad at all." Reaching back, she pressed a hand into firm, but yielding ass-flesh, "Oh yeah, I'm going to have fun with this."

She began flexing her muscles, watching her butt bounce and jiggle for a few moments while giggling. Then her free hand once again traced over her clit and Taylor shivered, "Ooh, that's...different. I should make notes, maybe test my new powers, but right now..."

Taylor flipped onto her back and spread her legs, a glance through the valley of her new breasts showing her new pussy just begging to be used in some way and fact that she was looking at it just seemed to make it wetter as Taylor's fingers traced the shape before she bit her lip and plunged a finger in, letting out a shuddering gasp as the teenager felt exactly how the change had affected her down there.

"Holy shit..." Looking back at the mirror, Taylor saw the confirmation to what she was seeing, "I'm that sensitive down there?" True enough, just slipping the finger in had been enough to cause Taylor to cum, but the teenager wasn't satisfied with that as she began working her finger in and out, soft moans escaping her lips as she leaned back and simply enjoyed herself.

She didn't really manage to see how long she had been lying on the finger masturbating, but Taylor was able to still keep track of the number of orgasms she was giving herself as she panted out, "N-nine...oh god..."

Her free hand had by now started massaging one of her massive tits, fingers carefully pinching and twisting the fat nipple before with a loud moan, Taylor orgasmed hard, spraying the mirror as she squirted several times before curling into herself slightly, shuddering.

"Oh..that was...Oh god...Intense..." Sucking in a shuddering breath, Taylor shifted her head to take a look at her handiwork before smirking slightly, "Oh wow, I made a mess."

The intensity of her squirts had managed to cover most of the mirror from the angle of her bucking hips, and there was also a sizable wet spot on the carpet as Taylor shakily got back onto her feet once more and opened a window to let some fresh air in.

It was just then that she heard a soft pop and the sound of something landing on her desk, prompting Taylor to head over and find a letter with neat cursive script with her name on it. Carefully opening the envelope to pull out the message, Taylor began reading.

Dear Miss Hebert,

As of the writing of this letter, I am pleased to congratulate you on your purchase and also on being the first customer to go so far beyond the norm that our legal team has been forced to liaison with several major authorities to put into law new regulations to prevent future incidents.

In short, thank you for helping identify a hole in our own business practices that has been quickly rectified. But that is not the purpose of this letter. This letter is to inform you of the extent of the changes that were made to your body while you were being transformed, physically and meta-physically.

To start, your new body has been paired with a rejuvenation effect, allowing you to recover perfectly from any birthing-induced scarring and other cosmetic unsightliness incurred by the effect of the Projection Creation power.

This effect also comes with a minor healing factor; enough to recover from any serious to crippling injury, prevent disease, and induce a form of practical immortality. You won't age and you'll live forever, but you're not invulnerable and you can still be killed.

Next, the matter of the biological drones created by your Creation power, since Projection can no longer sensibly apply. To start, your drones cannot impregnate you if they are male. But both female and male drones can impregnate, or be impregnated by, other people, albeit you have control over this which is a simple as flicking a switch.

Your Creation power also comes with a safety cut-off; you cannot use your power if you become pregnant yourself until the child is born. DO NOT attempt to force the usage of the Creation power while pregnant as forced usage will result in a miscarriage.

Relate to that, your unlimited multi-tasking has been fine-tuned with a little extra to provide seamless real-time control and operation of drones and people. In fact, this seamless nature is sufficient that with practice the user can hold conversations with themselves and other people without any disruptions.

Since you are legally forbidden from contacting us for modifications, refunds or new purchases, we wish you all the best and also wish to inform you that using any form of dimensional travel to visit Head Office will be considered a breach of the Black Form and be met with serious security action.

Best Regards,

Violet Marigold, Purchasing and Control Administrator.

P.S.

A small instruction pamphlet for your powers has been provided for your benefit. Also, as Thorn said, you might feel a slight electric sensation. Be aware that the experience will be more pleasurable than the conventional manner, but not overwhelmingly so.

Placing the letter back onto her desk, Taylor checked inside the envelope to indeed find a small pamphlet that had a small table of contents for each of her powers, the thickest portion being her 'Creation' power but Taylor ignored that in favor of the other powers that could be more immediately practiced as she padded over to her and flopped forward onto it, reading through the various instructions.

It was only after several minutes, as she was building a small pile of pistols and knives that Taylor realized she was completely naked and didn't feel the feelings of humiliation, shame and occasional envy she usually had with her body.

Several seconds later, Taylor shrugged and went back to practicing with her Weapon Creation as the pile of guns and blades slowly grew before she banished them in motes of bright light and started again according to the instructions.

As the hours passed, Taylor was now sensing the insects and animals along with the neighbors in her twenty-foot radius, getting used to passively sensing people and other living things along with the information she was receiving from them.

So far it was fairly manageable and when a pedestrian walking alone passed into her range, Taylor immediately received a brief amount of information from the new person, his identity revealed as a member of the Empire 88.

Feeling a little wicked, Taylor concentrated slightly and the passive flow of information turned into an active influence of her mind on his as Taylor decided to make the E88 member start dancing in the street for no discernible reason.

When she released her control and left the man to look around in confusion while doing a handstand at the edge of her range, Taylor had a fairly good idea of how effective her control was.

As she wrote down in a spare journal now given the role of storing her notes about her powers, Taylor had a brief thought, 'If I could find a way to extend the range of my Control Field, I could control a lot more people, couldn't I?"

She quickly shook her head, 'No, that would be way too tempting to abuse. Besides, twenty-feet is a good starting range. If I can't work with that, I can't be thinking of finding ways to extend my range.'

Nodding in satisfaction at her conclusion, Taylor flipped to a fresh page and began writing.

Control Emma, Madison and Sophia to get blackmail on them?

Taylor tapped her chin with her pen as she considered the question.

Certainly doable. But it needs to be something I can hold over them that could ruin them socially. What could do that?

Taylor rolled her eyes as she considered her own new desires and got the answer immediately.

Use drones to gang-bang them while they're under my control. Tapes and photos will be more than enough to put Emma in her place. Threats to send them to their parents should be enough, or at least leak the whole thing on the Net.

Rubbing her firm stomach, Taylor shivered at the thought of using her Creation power before her fingers probed her pussy and came back wet and sticky, "Huh, looks like even just thinking about it enough to get me horny." Licking off her fingers and holding the notebook again, Taylor's pen began scribbling again.

Letter described birthing as more pleasurable than normal but not overwhelmingly so. Possible that others with similar power were essentially disabled by an overload of pleasure? Scary.

It certainly felt that way; if those orgasms were any indicator than it was possible that Taylor could have run the risk of being reduced to a drooling wreck every time she made a new drone.

But now, Taylor felt a little encouraged and relieved at being told that she wasn't likely to be at risk of that. Picking up the instruction pamphlet again and leaning back without a care about her nakedness, Taylor flicked to Creation and looked back over at a section that had caught her interest.

...possible for the user to carry a small number of drone embryos and when required gestate and deploy rapidly to meet an unexpected threat or ambush an expected one.

Her eyes flicked to another part.

...as with normal Projection Creation, the drones created by this power can be re-absorbed as an energy waveform which can provide a measure of rapid recovery, boosting the effectiveness of a selected power, enhance another drone, or simply erase any evidence of their existence.

Taylor smirked, if she was going to go ahead with the gang-bang blackmail plan for those three, at least she had a way of leaving no traces. Still, if she could get one or more of them to make eye contact with her...

Taylor nodded, "Okay, try and read Emma's mind first, then see if I can fix her. And maybe fix Sophia and Madison as well, just to be safe. That way, I can save the gang-bang option as the nuclear option." She nodded again, satisfied, "Not much of a plan, but it's a better one that just waiting to see what they do next-"

The sound of a truck pulling into the driveway caught her attention and Taylor's eyes widened, "Oh shit, Dad!" Hopping off the bed, Taylor quickly rummaged in her closet to pull out some clothes that she could squeeze into; managing to find some jeans that barely managed to get past her hips and a shirt that just barely covered her huge tits.

"Okay, score another one for powers." Taylor murmured to herself as she tested her movement in the jeans while her bra-less breasts bounced in front of her, "Looks like I don't need to worry about chafing anymore."

Although, as Taylor felt the denim in her jeans rub against her, she started to feel more concerned about creating a wet spot more than anything being rubbed raw.

"Okay, just be calm, act casual and natural. If all goes right, he won't think anything is different with you." Taylor muttered to herself as she reached the living room and quickly turned on the TV, quickly putting on a bored pose as the lock in the door turned and Danny Hebert walked into the hallway, where he quickly spotted Taylor sitting at the couch.

Realizing that she had to show herself off rather than trust the assurances she had been given, Taylor turned and smiled while her breasts bounced, barely constrained by her shirt, "Hi Dad! Welcome back."

"Hey kiddo," Danny replied, smiling at Taylor before he frowned, "You're back early..." His expression dimmed, "What happened?"

Even though she wasn't really wanting to explain what had happened to her this morning, Taylor was more relieved that so far, the effect seemed to be working, so she shifted her focus on the topic at hand.

"Well..."


* * *

Part 4: Parental Advisory Warning

Taylor knew that she wasn't going to enjoy talking about the resumption of the bullying campaign against her, but considering it was either that or lying to her Dad, Taylor felt she was a good enough daughter to at least try to talk about this, "...and then the locker door just...popped open, I don't know how but it did and I was on the floor covered in garbage and worse. So I just...went home."

She felt tears pricking her eyes at the memory, but Taylor also felt something she hadn't felt in a long time. Anger, pure and righteous, at everything that had been done to her and it wasn't just today, it was the memories of the last few months, nearly a year, of various abuses that was now steadily making her more and more pissed off until she felt as though she was vibrating in her seat at the kitchen table.

"Taylor? What's wrong, you're shaking." Taylor blinked at Danny's words and finally just let out a hoarse, gasping sob as she finally gave voice to frustrations and anger buried under a layer of numbing misery.

"I'm just so...angry at what's been happening to me! I've tried to do everything, anything, to make it all stop but nothing works! It's just apathy and the teachers never being there to witness what happened and no-one wants to stand up to the most popular girls in school!" Taylor vented as she hugged herself, unconsciously pushing her huge breasts while folding her arms, "And I just don't know why they keep picking on me!"

"Well, I can guess one thing," Danny mused as he leaned back in his chair, "I think they're just jealous of you."

Taylor blinked before she stared at her dad, "What?"

Danny nodded, "I'm not blind Taylor, I've watched you grow up and you've become an incredibly beautiful young woman, and this was a problem your mother faced." Taylor blinked again and Danny took that as a signal to continue, "Oh yeah, your mother would always talk about how she was harassed by some woman or another because of her figure."

Taylor's eyes were wide, but it wasn't due to what Danny was saying, it was what he was implying.

'Oh shit...I forgot about what the changes might do about Mom!' In her haste, Taylor had forgotten that any retroactive changes might also affect people who were dead. What did her Mom look like now? Taylor quickly decided to take a look at one of the family photos to check that nothing too drastic had occurred.

"And it's going to be the same with you, Taylor. Don't let them use your body against you," Danny continued, unknowing of Taylor's internal panic, "Your mother wasn't someone who took any attempts at 'slut-shaming' to heart, and I don't think you should either. It's not your problem if you're always going to be bigger than those other girls, it's theirs and they're just trying to find a way to feel better about themselves by picking on you."

"You noticed I'm bigger than other girls my age?" Taylor asked, half out of genuine curiosity, half out of continued nerves about how well the normalization had affected her only family.

To her surprise and concealed relief, Danny gave her an amused smile, "Kiddo, I ain't blind. Any father can tell his daughter's body had changed when she needs custom-made bras and larger pants to cover her hips." He laughed when Taylor stuck her tongue out at him, before getting out of his chair when the phone started to ring, "I'll get that, it's probably Winslow." Taylor winced before Danny walked over and mussed her hair, "Don't worry, it'll be fine. How about you set the table for dinner? Kurt and Lacey are coming over as well so try not to walk around with your pants too low or your shirt too high."

"Okay Dad." Taylor replied before getting up to start grabbing plates, idly noting the way she would shift her body to prevent her huge breasts from knocking things over, when some of Danny's words registered and her eyes widened, "No fucking way...did he just imply what I think he did?" Glancing back at the hallway revealed Danny busy talking calmly with someone over the phone so she quickly got back to setting the table.

'Did my Dad just imply I go around nearly naked inside the house? Shit, I think I might need to use that Rewrite power to read his mind and memories so I don't mess anything up. But first...' Quickly setting down the last of the cutlery, Taylor walked over to where the family pictures were laid out and found her favourite photo that showed Mom, before the accident.

Her eyes widened at the sight of her mother. Her own memory showed a woman who quite slender and small-chested while still quite pretty, but the voluptuous beauty hugging her Dad was not the woman from Taylor's memories. But even with the larger chest and wider hips, Taylor was glad that it was her Mom staring back in the photo and not a complete stranger.

'One way to justify this being inherited. Use a dead person. Morbid...but I can't fault this for happening, I couldn't have exploded into tits and ass overnight without a reason. Hmm...' Taylor quickly found some of the photos that showed her off and while her earliest childhood photos were the same beyond her mother's new figure, it was the photos when she was only a few years younger that showed off a pre-teen to teenage girl who visibly taller and bustier than other kids.

But apart from that, there were no really jarring changes shown in the photos, so why had her Dad said that earlier?

"Well until I get some assurances that this isn't going to happen again, I'd rather take my chances with keeping her out of school, even if it means getting my daughter to pass the GED testing instead!" Hanging up the phone with a angry sigh, Danny turned around to find Taylor looking at him, "Well, that was Winslow, apparently more concerned with you skipping than about the pile of garbage that was in your locker."

Taylor nodded before she bit her lip, looking nervous, which Danny easily caught, "Taylor? Something wro-"

The moment Taylor met his eyes, she immediately used her power, diving into her father's memories while he hopefully was placed in a state of mental suspension as she searched for the reason to his earlier words about her clothing.

As it turned out, whatever retroactive effects were used to justify her new body, instincts and lusts, it also affected Taylor's mother to a small degree, but just enough that little Taylor Hebert picked up the habit of walking around the house in the same near-lack of clothing as her mother; a habit that continued to the present as Taylor viewed brief memories of typical scenes where she walked around without any underwear while wearing shirts and pants that barely fit or skirts that were way too short for her now.

And this counted as casual wear around the house apparently, and from the way her Dad's memory barely registered anything more than a casual dismissal when she bent over while wearing an incredibly short skirt without any underwear, it was normal. Withdrawing from her Dad's mind, Taylor collected herself while Danny simply continued speaking as if nothing happened, "-ng kiddo? You've been staring for a bit."

Taylor shook her head, "It's nothing Dad, just trying to remember how long since Kurt and Lacey came over to visit." She smiled, "It feels like forever." She stretched, keeping the grin to suppress any reaction to the sensations of her nipples hardening and lengthening from the stimulation, before she dropped her arms and spared a glance at the small tents her nipples were creating under her shirt.

"Been about a year or two." Danny mused, "Anyway, I'll get started on dinner. You just relax and watch some TV, they'll be here in about an hour or so." Nodding, Taylor went to the living room and turned on the TV, channel hopping until she found a local talking heads show. And they were talking about the gangs again.

"-not possibly be saying that the gangs in Brockton Bay are better funded than the PRT and Protectorate?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying. Without the need to follow any kind of morality but their own, and with the territory they oversee, the gangs can basically act as micro-nations within the city, answerable to no-one but their leaders. And with the illegal activities they run, you can bet that millions in dollars are at their disposal for the best black-market gear that money can buy."

Taylor tuned out the rest as she considered the letter in her room and what Thorn had told her. Nothing had been specified about the legality of how she acquired the money, only that she acquired it. Taylor had an inkling that the price tag was some kind of motivator to use the powers and a test on how willing the buyer would be to actually put those powers to work for them.

'Still,' Taylor mused as she changed channels and started watching cartoons, 'I can't be gung-ho about this. Weapon Creation is just there for my self-defense while Copying and Modification are to help expand my library. And I can't just push out some drones without a plan, or costumes to give them.' Taylor smiled at the thought of naked super-heroics but that was just silly and certainly not something she'd get into.

Idly, she rubbed her mid-riff considering how to best use the Creation power while Danny was busy cooking, before an idea came to Taylor, 'I could create an item/weapon making cape, maybe with the Inventor power as well to play them up as a Tinker? I'd probably only need the one to start, which should be enough to equip a team of capes to hit the gangs. Tempting to hit the Merchants first, but I can afford to be a bit daring, can't I? Its not like they're real...'

Taylor frowned, 'Gonna have to be really careful about that. It'll be one thing to consider the capes I make as expendable, but it would be very easy to view other people and capes as expendable as well. I can't make that mistake, otherwise bad things could happen...no, they will happen.'

Firming her determination not to fall into that trap, Taylor continued to consider her options when the doorbell rang. Hopping to her feet, Taylor headed to the front door, "I've got it!" Ignoring the confirmation call from her Dad, Taylor opened the door. Standing in front of her was a pair of people she practically considered family, "Kurt! Lacey! Come in!"

"Taylor!" Kurt gave her a brief hug that Taylor returned, even if she did fail to avoid hugging Kurt just in the right place to push her voluptuous chest against his, before she moved on to hug Lacey as Kurt continued speaking, "Damn, it has been way too long, and look at you! You're practically the spitting image of Ann!"

Taylor didn't stop the sunny smile that was now on her face as she turned her head, "Aw, you're going to embarass me Kurt."

Lacey's greeting was quieter but no less warmer, "How are you Taylor? Everything going okay?" Her eyes swept down to her shirt and her erect nipples, "Still having sensitivity issues?"

Taylor shook her head with a small blush, "No. I mean, they're still pretty sensitive and I guess they always will be, but I'm okay. As for the rest..." Taylor's smile became a touch grimmer, "It's going all right."

Lacey's gaze was sympathetic, "They're still going at it? Why on earth would they keep picking on a beautiful girl like you?" Her eyes went down to Taylor's chest, "Well, apart from the obvious."

Taylor couldn't help but giggle at that, "I think it's all because of the obvious." Her gaze shifted as she regarded her breasts, "Sometimes I wonder if these are more trouble than they're worth."

"Now don't say something like that Taylor," Lacey chided as they entered the living room while Kurt and Danny conversed in the kitchen, "I know it's tough, but your mother went through the same thing, maybe even worse, and she didn't choose to let any of that affect her, and frankly neither should you."

Taylor smiled, before hugging Lacey and this time managing to avoid making the embrace seem sexual, "Thanks, I kinda needed that."

"Anytime," Lacey replied before she glanced back at the kitchen, "Maybe we should go see what the menfolk are doing and make sure they don't destroy the kitchen."

Taylor giggled as she nodded and followed.

Several hours later, Taylor was lying shirtless on her bed with her Control power active and watching as Danny finally went to sleep. The dinner had been fun, and it was a good pick-me-up after the events of the morning. But now, without the need for sleep herself, Taylor waited until her dad was well and truly sleeping before she undid the buttons and unzipped her jeans before lifting her legs so she could carefully shimmy her hips out from them.

Once the denim came free from her hips, Taylor quickly pulled them off her legs before running a hand along one smooth, muscular limb with a smile before she smoothly spread them, closed her eyes, and activated the Creation power.

The pamphlet had stated that the power would create a mental interface, and that the appearance and usage was based entirely on the user of the power and was always going to be one of a kind. For Taylor, that interface was one that looked similar to the few times she had been in her dad's office when visiting his work with her mom.

'Well, it does make a little sense.' Taylor mused as she mentally regarded a shapeless, misty form, 'And this must be how I preview what my new hero looks like. Okay, first things first. Someone to make costumes and equipment. Tinker backup basically.'

And with that, Taylor began working on the details of her first artificial hero, crafting a woman with red hair and dark eyes and a full figure but wasn't as over-stated as Taylor's. In fact, the teenage girl decided that the best thing to do was to keep the proportions as realistic as possible to help her new heroes blend in; there was no need for anyone to have massive breasts or unrealistically large cocks, not for any public cape work.

The physical form complete, Taylor added the necessary weapon and item creation powers along with an invention power that would let her tap the drone to create her own Tinkertech, tech that could possibly be much easier to maintain and mass-produce. And with that, her first cape was complete.

Opening her eyes and stealing a glance at her bedside clock, Taylor felt her eyebrows rise at seeing that barely a minute had passed while she was configuring her new cape. After a moment's consideration, Taylor closed her eyes and made an identical twin, only this cape would have healing and body-modification powers to help disguise any of her capes or perhaps disguise Taylor; all the while she studiously ignored the tempting thoughts of what she could use the cape to do with Emma, Sophia and Madison.

Opening her eyes again, Taylor looked down past her breasts to her flat, trim stomach and inhaled deeply, "Hopes this works." And with that, she triggered the power to begin creating her new capes.

Her first thought as she immediately clamped her hands over her mouth with her eyes wide open in shock was, 'This is not a slight electric sensation!'

Her second thought, as she felt a hard lump appear before she watched said lump begin to swell was, 'YES!'


* * *

Part 5: Planned Parenthood

The sensation of something growing rapidly inside her was simultaneously the scariest and most exhilarating feeling Taylor had ever experienced as she muffled another moan while watching her abdomen rapidly swell before her eyes. Already her power had linked her mind to the two drones growing inside her womb and Taylor was enjoying the sensations that were being fed to her.

Her pussy was dripping with every passing second of watching her womb inflate and Taylor was rapidly understanding just what Thorn had meant; even as her rapid gestation was nearing the end, the teenage girl was feeling a craving for a large, hard cock to be slammed into her pussy as she grew, before it spasmed in a forceful orgasm and she muffled another, louder moan.

'Oh shit, I'm going to go nuts from this!' Taylor thought as one of her hands snaked down to tease her clit while her other hand kept her mouth covered as she moaned into it, feeling her pussy gush with a squirting orgasm as her belly reached the final stages of her self-induced pregnancy. Just then, she felt the drones begin to shift and just before she could wonder why, Taylor felt a sharp pop and another gush of fluid.

Taylor was fast enough to slam her pillow over her head as her body convulsed with the strongest orgasm she had experienced all day, the pillow managing to muffle the loud, ecstatic scream that tore past her lips as the first contractions began to roll through her as waves of electric pleasure that were the complete opposite of what Taylor had learned typically resulted of childbirth; pain, lots of it.

'Well, I have to be motivated to use this, right?' Taylor thought as her body shook from another contraction as she felt her cervix and vagina both steadily forcing themselves wider and wider by the minute while she could do nothing but gasp and try to stop herself from writhing too much as her vagina's forceful contractions continued.

Guided by instinct, Taylor felt the first drone's head begin to press against her widened cervix and carefully began to push, encouraged by the increasing pleasure that was began to build like a penetrating warmth as Taylor tried to remain calm enough to focus on the task of pushing out her drone.

'I think...oh fuck...think that's what's called the Ring Of Fire if I remember that bit of research for biology class. Something about pa-aiiieee!' Taylor's thoughts were shattered as the head of the drone pushed through her cervix and she began forcing out the shoulders, somehow experiencing pleasure to an intensity that it flipped over to agony at the same time as tears leaked from her eyes.

As her body pushed the shoulders out, Taylor felt a rolling orgasm take control of her muscles as she felt a large shape slide through her birth canal before the head and shoulders began forcing her pussy lips open, a second orgasm ripping through and forcing her vagina to push out the drone fully with a slick, wet noise that she couldn't quite put a name to as her pussy spasmed.

Through the link, Taylor began to carefully move the baby-shaped drone as it began to immediately mature; clumsy crawling slowly made way for slow, careful movements until Taylor felt that the drone's balance was sure enough to stand unsteadily on her feet as she continued growing taller and more mature.

Even as her first 'child' rapidly grew into a teenager, Taylor's body was still working as the teenager shuddered at the sensations caused by the drone's twin being forced past her cervix and into her birth canal. As the second massive orgasm took control and began pushing the child down, Taylor could only suck in shuddering, gasping breaths as sweat ran down her tanned skin, tears dripping from her eyes at the intense mixture of agony and pleasure she was enduring.

Finally, with a forceful push, Taylor birthed the second drone and lay there gasping even as her mind took control and began moving the rapidly maturing child towards her while the first twin carefully lay down to let Taylor inspect her through tear-blurred eyes, her huge tits shifting with every heaving breath taken.

"Beautiful," Taylor whispered as she took in the drone's face and features, before making it rise so she could inspect the rest of the body, plunging a pair of fingers into a virgin pussy, prompting a shudder from both Taylor and the drone as she felt the sensation in stereo. The realization caused Taylor to blink as she realized that it wasn't just sensations as well; she was actually seeing through the drone's eyes, controlling it as easily as her own body.

Seconds later, another viewpoint made itself known in Taylor's mind as the second drone was crawled up and Taylor gave it the same inspection, plunging a pair of fingers into the drone's pussy and feeling it clench on both ends of the connection. Removing her fingers and licking both hands clean, Taylor let out a pleased sigh as she basked in the afterglow of the incredible experience.

A sharp pain however drew her attention and Taylor carefully sat up to take a look as she muttered under her breath, "Must have torn something while giving birth. Hope that rejuvenation power is up to it." Looking down at her abused pussy and feeling it return to its previous virginal tightness, Taylor blinked at seeing the blood on her sheets, "Oh, right."

It was a somewhat embarrassing realization; the contractions along with the birth hadn't just torn her hymen, the activity had completely destroyed it and while the damage was being healed there was a lot of blood mixed with other fluids but it wasn't the only thing Taylor noticed. What she had noticed was the lack of umbilical cords and placenta, which was something of a relief since it would be difficult to conceal and dispose of those.

"Okay, that definitely is an advantage," Taylor muttered as she watched her stomach shrink until her trim, defined six-pack had returned once more and apart from the sweat, blood, and amniotic fluid, everything looked completely normal as Taylor flopped back onto the back before one of the drones shifted, obeying mental commands like a good puppet, and with a pair of fingers spreading her pussy it began grinding against one of Taylor massive tits.

Moaning quietly as she felt her hard nipple get caressed by the pussy grinding against it, Taylor quietly directed the second to do the same as she looked at the clock on her bedside table. Ten minutes. It had taken only ten minutes for the pair to be born and mature into drop dead gorgeous adults as Taylor bit her lip, feeling the two vaginas begin to pulse around her nipples.

A mental direction, and the healer drone laid a hand on Taylor's body, feeding her information about her recovery from the birth. True to what the letter had said, there was no internal scarring or stretched skin to leave marks. Her body was as pristine as the moment she started. Smiling, Taylor directed the hand to her eyes and in a flash of pale green light, fixed up her eyes.

"I can always wear fake glasses, cute ones." Taylor murmured before she began tweaking the nipples of the two drones, her seamless control over them causing her shuddering gasp to be voiced by the pair instead of her. As she played with the two, Taylor considered taking another step and pushed her control further.

"Te...test...Test, test. One, two, threeeee..." The healer drone moaned quietly, her voice soft and musical.

"S-somehow I wasn't expecting this," The item creating and Tinker drone also spoke, voice deep and husky. Three sets of eyes regarded each other, all controlled by the same mind.

"I don't even need that much practice, do I?" All three spoke at once before Taylor giggled.

"Okay, this is confusing, I can't think of the myself as Taylor when speaking with the drones." Ironically, it was the healer drone that said this even though Taylor nodded.

"Yeah, definitely need names for these two so I can tell them apart." Looking at the Tinker drone, Taylor nodded, "I'll name you Ann." Then she looked at the Healer drone, "And you'll be Rose." It was a relatively simple solution, using both a contraction of her mother's first name and then her middle name, but Taylor considered it a fair compensation for the unintended consequence her decision had created with her deceased parent.

Tracing a hand in the air under Taylor's watchful eyes, the Tinker drone quickly created a set of clothes and costumes for both; dark red with blue accents, and unmarked with any insignia to show allegiance for now, Taylor considered the best path to take for her future cape career as a Master. Outright villainy was discarded, and considering the nature of the power she used to create her artificial capes then joining the Protectorate and their Wards was not going to go well as she had realized before.

Independent vigilantism, that would have to be the way to go. 'Making capes with powers suitable for being Rogues would also help bring in cash for me and Dad as well,' Taylor thought as she orgasmed in time with her two drones, all while mentally preparing to construct her next cape, an actual field cape. But that raised another question, who would she hit first to start taking money from to pay Thorn and his mysterious Head Office, and how would she do it?

It would be a male cape, Taylor decided, not just for the imagery but also because she was so incredibly horny right now that Taylor needed something plugging her pussy right at that very moment. But from there her deliberations were slower; she could make a black cape that could beat down the Empire 88, maybe some Asian stereotype cape to hit the ABB, or maybe some kind of street-fighter to bring down the Merchants. For the first time in...well, ever, Taylor was glad for the wide selection of targets she could choose from.

There was also a mysterious crime lord called Coil, but without any solid information on what his assets were like, Taylor decided to leave him alone for now. After another few minutes of orgasms and deep thought, during which Taylor picked out the powers she wanted for her first male cape, she decided that the Empire 88 could do with some ironic humiliation as she crafted a muscular slab of light-skinned, blonde-haired and blue-eyed beefcake.

This time, she was ready for the electric surge of pleasure, and before Taylor's eyes the entire process started again as her belly began to swell and surge upwards in a pulsing dome as her powers registered the connection to the new drone gestating inside her womb and through the pleasure, Taylor simply indulged in the feeling of having a life, of sorts, growing inside her.

When her water burst for a second time, Taylor managed to avoid making any noise as the contractions rippled through her vagina while the two drones quickly extricated themselves from her and stood to the side, any animation they had under Taylor's control now replaced with a neutral, blank expression as they stared down at Taylor, acting now as helpers ready for any complications that could arise.

With a slight bit of experience now, Taylor was able to get a feel for when to start pushing as the drone pressed against her widened cervix and she began forcing it out. Inhaling deeply, Taylor flicked on her Control power, checking to see if her Dad had been disturbed by her activities. She let out a sigh of relief at the report that he was fast asleep and pushed harder to force the shoulders out and let the rest of the body slither into her birth canal.

After that, it was simply a matter of working with the two massive orgasms pushing the drone out out her vagina onto her soaked sheets with another slick, wet noise. This time, Taylor gathered the quickly maturing drone into her arms and inspected it as her control over it firmed and she opened its eyes to regard her with its own blue ones.

Smiling, Taylor sat up and began posing and flexing her newborn male drone, noting with particularly lustful gaze the rapidly growing penis on the new drone. After several more impatient minutes, a fully-grown male drone was now kneeling on the liquid-stained bed in front of Taylor as animation returned to the female drones as well.

Taylor in the meantime, was on her knees and getting ready to put the drone to work as her control over it came in fully and she immediately made its dick stand erect. Just going straight into sex was tempting, but Taylor felt that she should try at least one other important aspect to sex, and that was giving a blowjob.

The only real problem was the renewed virgin nervousness at what she would be doing, "Okay Taylor, you can do this. You just have to start slow, like this..." Lowering her head, Taylor tentatively licked the twitching penis.

'Okay, that wasn't too bad, so then I just...'

Slowly, clumsily, Taylor began working through her first blowjob. That she was doing it with a biological drone she had given birth to minutes previously wasn't really an issue for her. In fact, it helped her relax since she wasn't doing this with a random stranger; for all that her new body and instincts had improved her self-confidence, Taylor was not just going to walk up to someone to have a one-night stand.

It also helped that the drone's sensations were being fed to Taylor, allowing her to slowly improve as her subconscious caused the drone to grunt and growl enticingly as she licked, sucked and carefully practiced her technique, wrapping her tits around the thick cock as she slowly got more confident.

Finally, she felt the drone's body begin to tense up and as it growled, she shoved the cock as deep as she was willing to put it into her mouth before the drone ejaculated into her mouth and she began to instinctively swallow.

When the taste finally registered in her mind, Taylor broke a record dashing for her bathroom, Rose following after to hold her hair back as she started puking into the toilet.

As she coughed up the last of it, Taylor let out a disgusted groan, "How can anyone like the taste?" Standing up and accepting a damp cloth from Rose, Taylor exited the bathroom and inhaled to settle herself, "Maybe I should swear off doing blowjobs? Nah, I'd rather suck a cock than get one stuck in me, which means..."

Grimacing, Taylor shook her head and checked the clock, "Okay Taylor, you've got plenty of time, you aren't going to let something like taste get in the way are you?" She shook her head, "No, of course not, you're going to beat this." As she regarded the male drone's still-erect cock, Taylor smiled.

'Well, as far as practice goes, at least it's enjoyable. So there's a consolation at least.'

Taking up positions with the drone again, Taylor lowered her head and started again.

A Normal Day At The Loft

(Автор: aoirann)

It was a normal day at the Undersiders loft. Rather boring in Regent's opinion. So he did what he always did when bored. Raid the fridge while singing in an annoying falsetto.

"Girls hit your hallelujah (whoo)

'Cause uptown funk gon' give it to you

'Cause uptown funk gon' give it to you

*Bottles clink and wrappers rustle*

'Cause uptown funk gon' give it to you

Saturday night and we in the spot

Don't believe me just watch (come on)-Oh hello!" Regent paused from eating the giant sandwich in his hands when he noticed Tattletale. She was slumped over at the table with paperwork around her and the laptop she was using dead. She was slightly drooling and snoring.

"Man she can never relax.... Idea!" Regent said mischievously. A couple of mental commands and Tattletale's body was following Regent as he made his way back to his bedroom, all the while finishing his sandwich. This did nothing to stop her from snoring however.

*Sometime later.*

Tattletale slowly blinked the crud out of her eyes. 'What. Did I fall asleep at the table again?.... Where the hell am I?' She thought as she was staring at an unfamiliar headboard. 'And is there something in my-OH GOD!' Tattletale started to panic as she realized exactly what was happening but found she couldn't move.

'Okay don't panic Sarah. You can get through this. Just because your power isn't really working doesn't mean you can't figure-' However that line of thought was cut off when a body wracking orgasms flood through her system. The small part of her that didn't blank out realize she could curl her fingers and toes, and bit her lip. After a couple of minutes of heavy breathing she started to regain her ability to think.

'Okay that was good. But I need to figure out-Oh God he's starting again!" All other thoughts were forgotten in favor of squealing and writhing. Well as much as she could. After six mind blowing orgasms, did the man working her over finally cum. This set off Tattletale once again. And through the after-glow pleasure induced haze she was barely able to hear a voice. A voice she was rather familiar with.

"So I take it you had a good time too." Regent said way too cheekfully for Tattletale's taste.

"Regent!? What the hell!? You decided to fucking rape me!?" Lisa said full of as much venom as she could. Which with her ass up in the air, and riding a huge afterglow mean not that much.

"Nope!" He responded just as cheekyfully. "I fucking made love to you! I figured that you needed to unwind and I knew your powers made it so you couldn't get any release. So I figured if I did this when you were asleep your powers wouldn't fuck you over while I was fucking you over!" The sad part, to Tattletale, was that she couldn't argue against him logically. I mean sure she was raped, and even if the woman orgasms it's still rape. However after seven mind blowing, body wracking, lip bitting, tow curling orgasms she really couldn't find the energy to get upset about it. So her only response was to sigh.

"You used protection right?" She asked.

"Didn't need to. I know you got the implant and thanks to father dearest," Regent said that with a lot more venom and loathing than Tattletale thought was possible for the boy,"I'm pretty much sterile. And yes I got tested recently so no you don't have to worry about any STDs." He said as an afterthought. List snorted in annoyance as all her arguments and ways to rant at Regent were destroyed.

"Can I get up now?"

"What? And miss round 2?"

"Round 2-Oh God!"

Bonus Omake:

Aisha (Standing in the corner with a camera.): I'm going to be rich!.... Crap now I'm way too turned on.... Maybe I can ask Alec to give me a Lisa special afterwards.....

Photophobia

(Автор: volantredx)

So a little bit ago I updated my story Phobophobia on SB/SV. Well during the writing for that chapter I ended up cutting a scene in the end due to feeling it didn't really fit where I wanted the story to go. Still not one to destroy old writing I figured I'd put it here as a non-canon omake. Why here? Well shit gets a bit intense toward the end and I'm not really sure if it'd be allowed on the other sites.

To set the stage for those who don't read Phobophobia, Taylor, who grows stronger by feeding on the fears of others and lacks a fear response of her own has attacked Emma in the hall of Winslow and had to be pried off by Sophia. This is Sophia and Emma in the nurse's office after the attack

Phobophobia deleted scene

Emma let out a harsh hissing noise as she felt along her her jaw line. Sophia could see that bruises were already starting to form. Seeing the bluish marks against Emma's perfect skin set Sophia's teeth on edge. Where did that bitch Hebert get off attacking her betters like that? Sophia would need time to figure out what sort of punishment that stupid bitch had coming.

"Shit," Emma bit out. "I guess it's lucky I didn't have a gig this week. Still I might be able to get the worst of it hidden with a little foundation."

"Why would you want to?" Sophia questioned. "I say don't try to hide any of it. You earned those bruises. Mark of pride and all that."

"What pride? I got blindsided by fucking Hebert of all people."

"Still you held your own. Most of the bitches around here would have dropped right away or pissed themselves. You kept at it. I've been telling you for years, you're a fighter. Always have been."

Emma shot Sophia a wide grin at her words. The sight made Sophia's heart speed up. She looked like a goddess, and if she was a goddess that made Sophia like those myth heroes, slaying monsters and shit and then getting to be with the hottest chick in the world.

"Still it's not like Hebert is exactly hardcore," Emma pointed out. "Where'd that come from anyway? She's always just took it like the little crybaby that she is, why did she get crazy all the sudden?"

"Maybe it's like a horse or something?" At Emma's look Sophia explained. "Well Hebert's no fighter, she just runs and shit, but if you get her in the right situation she kicks. Like a horse."

"More like a mule." The two of them giggled at the joke before Emma let out another hiss. "Ah, man she clonked me good. My head is killing me."

"Well it was good I got there when I did. Hebert's more like horse than you'd think, I've had grown ass banggers go down easier than her. Who knows what would have happened."

"My hero, seems like you're always there to save me when I really need it."

Sophia could feel her cheeks heat up at Emma's praise. She may not have needed anyone's approval, but it was nice to see at least someone thought she was a hero.

"I only wish I could do something in exchange." Emma said, pulling Sophia out of her thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Well you do all this stuff for me, saving my life, teaching me what it means to be strong. I never get to do enough for you."

"You do plenty," Sophia told her, but in the back of her mind old fantasies started to come to life. This was her chance to make good on them. "But if you're so dead set on giving something back I might have an idea."

"Oh?"

"Well," Sophia drew the word out as she moved closer up the bed to where Emma was. "There's usual something the person the hero saves gives them, especially when it's a pretty girl."

Emma's gave her a weak smile, "I don't get what you're talking about."

"Sure you do, the hero slays the dragon and the princess falls into his arms."

"Come on Sophia, this isn't funny."

"It's not a joke," with that Sophia moved her face inches from Emma's, whose smile slowly slid off her face.

"Hey listen I'm not...that way."

"You don't have to be," Sophia told her as she moved in for the kiss. As first kisses go it was hardly something to light Sophia's world up. Emma was clearly overwhelmed with everything, so she did little than sit back and let Sophia do all the work. Still it was Emma and that was enough for Sophia, they'd have plenty of time to improve anyhow. Pulling back she took in the stunned face of her..girlfriend Sophia guessed. They'd have to make it official later. "See, we can be so good together."

"Sophia, I-"

"Shh," Sophia hushed her new girlfriend placing her finger lightly on Emma's mouth. "You don't have to say anything. It's just what heroes should get, otherwise they might stop being people's heroes, you know?"

Emma just nodded, her eyes still wide.

Sophia got up from the bed and placed a kiss on top of Emma's head. "I'll call you after school, once I figure out our first real date. See you latter Em's."

Stargazing

(Автор: Ziel)

The sky overhead was bright, every star standing out against the velvet blackness. They were only a short drive outside the city, but the difference it made was unparalleled.

"Wow..." Taylor breathed. "It's beautiful."

"It is," Simone said. She was very pointedly not looking at the stars.

Taylor adjusted herself, scooting a little further up the hood of the car, her head still craned upward to watch the sky.

"You forget it's up there," Taylor said softly. "All of that, buried behind smog and light pollution."

"Yeah."

Simone leaned in, trying to follow Taylor's gaze. She'd seen the sky enough for ten lifetimes, and could name every star up there without thought. But like this, trying to see it through Taylor's eyes added a sort of magic to it.

"Look! A shooting star!"

Taylor pointed. A pinprick of light flashed across the sky in a long arc before... suddenly veering off at an odd angle.

"That was weird," Simone remarked. She snickered inwardly. It was weird alright, unless you knew that Dragon had a satellite in that quadrant, and wanted to say, interrupt her day.

Taylor sighed before looking back down at the earth. "This was nice."

Simone slid a little closer to her. "It was. I can't think of anyone else I'd share this with."

"Yeah..." Taylor hesitated for a moment before meeting her eye. "It's funny, I'm still not used to... doing this kind of thing... with friends."

Simone's smile twitched, her face suddenly frozen. Friends. Oh no. Oh no no no. They were not doing 'friends.'

"Like, I think I did something like this when I was a kid. Me and Emma in the backyard."

"Yeah?"

Taylor looked away, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. "Yeah. And it's stupid, but... I mean, we were like sisters."

Sisters? Wait, no, she could work with that. Sisters could work. Look at Tohu and Bohu, fucking twincestuous sluts.

"I don't really have a sister," Simone said slowly. "But I can imagine what that would feel like. How I'd feel if Levi or Ben turned on me."

Taylor nodded. "We were like sisters. But... that... that was then." Her voice hitched, but redoubled, gaining force the more she spoke. "It's not my fault she turned out the way she did. And all that shit she said about me, that was her."

"I talked to her about that once," Simone interjected. "Emma. She was so worried about being strong, being invulnerable, that she couldn't recognize how strong you were. How lucky she was to have you in her life. How special-"

"Simone," Taylor said. She was blushing. "That's a little much."

"No." Simone shook her head adamantly. "It's not."

She scooted closer, close enough that their thighs were touching. Close enough to smell the hint of perfume Taylor had put on, a rose scent that Simone knew had belonged to Taylor's mother.

"Listen, I said there was no one else I'd share this with, and I meant it," Simone said. "And if I have to beat it into your head that you're a beautiful, wonderful, goddamn special human being, then that's tough. And that's why I lov-"

Her cellphone rang.

FUCK EVERYONE.

"Ignore that."

Someone was dead. Someone was going to be so fucking dead for ruining her moment. Someone—

"Maybe you should just get it?" Taylor suggested, when the phone rang for the twelfth time.

Simone dug her phone out of her purse. The caller ID read simply, "Levi." The reason she hadn't say, used her precognition to look at it, might have been because she wanted to conserve every possible bit of psychic power for FUCKING LEVI SIDEWAYS BECAUSE HE RUINED HER DATE AND NO ONE GOT A SECOND DATE WITH TAYLOR HEBERT, AND EVEN IF TAYLOR DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS A DATE, DIDN'T MEAN IT STILL WASN'T A DATE—

"I'll be back in just a second."

She slipped off the hood of the car and rushed off into the woods. Only when she was a safe distance from Taylor did she answer.

"I'm gonna fucking murder you, Levi." Canary, who could literally talk people to death, could not have injected more murderous intent into her voice.

"Oh. Uh... hey," Levi stammered. "I was just calling because-"

"That gay swimming boys anime you like?" Simone growled. "None of them fuck. None of them will ever fuck. Not even in Season 2."

"Wha— AHH CMON!" Levi cried. "Why would you-"

"Listen closely," she said, her voice barely more than a hiss gritted through teeth. "Finish this call within the next five seconds or I'll personally spoil the plots of every show you watch from now until the sun explodes. And that's my warm up."

There were two seconds of silence — she counted, and Levi mumbled, "I'm supposed to attack and-"

"Spain."

"But what if Dadversary shows up? Shouldn't I-"

"SPAIN."

She did not just hang up. She reached out across the city, found Levi's phone and crushed it into a ball the size of a flea. Then she hung up her end of the call and walked back to Taylor.

The other girl was looking up at the sky again. She stopped when Simone came back to the car.

"Everything okay?"

"Just Levi being a dumbass," Simone said airily. "Boys."

She hopped back onto the hood of the car. But... now what? The mood was broken. Irreparably broken, and Taylor would never want another date because she'd killed the mood so badly and— Fuck. She was gonna kill Levi.

"Where was I?" Simone whispered. Why bother? Taylor had the romantic density of a neutron star. You had to lay it on thick or she'd never catch on.

"I believe," Taylor said softly. "You were just telling me that you love me."

Simone gaped at her. But Taylor was meeting her gaze now, and she was smiling.

"I've never had anyone say that to me."

"Wha.. wha..." Simone couldn't manage real words. Her brain was having a critical meltdown. She didn't use precog on Taylor, but this— this was unprecedented— unbelievable in the extreme!

"I think you're right. There's no one else I'd rather share this night with," Taylor said.

And then she leaned in and— and— AND—

Soft lips brushed hers. Taylor had on peach lip gloss, and her breath was warm, the barest brush across Simone's lips, and then Taylor was pulling away and—

Simone toppled backwards off the hood. She hit the dirt and didn't even feel it.

Taylor had— Taylor kissed her.

She stared up at the sky. Another shooting star ricocheted off Dragon's satellite and she barely noticed.

A shape moved in front of the sky. Taylor was leaning off the car, peering down at her.

"Are you okay?!"

Simone managed a delirious smile. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"


* * *

Omake:

"You said Spain! I went to Spain!"

Simone glared at Levi. The hydrokinetic scowled back.

"Madrid. I said Spain, and you went to Madrid."

"It is in Spain," Ben supplied. He was sitting a safe distance away. Or so he thought.

"Coastal Spain! Levi attacks coastal targets! How— gaahh!" Simone shook her head. God, the stupid. He was just so stupid. "How did you even get there!?"

Levi shrugged. "There's a river. I surfed."

Simone's eye twitched. "You know that basketball anime you just started?"

"Kuroko no— wait Simone don't!"

"They aren't ever going to fuck. Not now, not ever, and that I have to keep telling this just speaks to how fucking insane you are for thinking a show aimed at teenage boys is going to have gay fucking in it!"

Levi groaned and ran from the room, hands clamped over his ears. Simone dashed after him.

"That cycling show you watched last week? Season 2 is coming out, and there's no yaoi!"

The Importance Of Sex Ed

(Автор: Anzer-ke)

Usually Emma looked forward to lunch, to sitting with her two best friends and being able to talk without any teachers getting annoyed at them for disrupting the class or whatever. On days that she wasn't modelling or planning to meet them after school and hang out, lunch was probably the high point of her day. Except there had been a slight problem ever since they saw Taylor going home with Mr tall dark and fuckable. Not only had the coward been skipping school almost every day since -the dirty little slut— meaning that Emma had to pass on her favourite way to blow off steam, but what had been said on that fateful day had altered the topic of their conversations forever.

It was with a little dread that Emma took her lunch tray over to their usual table. Sophia was out of school for some PR event with the Wards so it was just Madison waiting for her. Her cute friend looked ridiculously innocent, waving her over with a beaming smile and her lunch in a brown bag with her name on it.

Emma had always known that it was an act, but it was only in the last few weeks that she'd realised just how far from innocent Madison really was.

Sitting down, Emma took as long as possible to organise her tray and get her skirt positioned neatly, anything to delay the inevitable—

"So what did you do over the weekend Ems? Get up to anything with that boyfriend of yours?"

The way Madison waggled her eyebrows had Emma suppressing a shudder. If a guy looked that perverse she'd have yelled 'rape!' without hesitation. Unfortunately that was unlikely to slow Madison down.

"You know I really do want to meet this guy of yours, me and Sophia need to check him out for you. Make sure he's suitable for our friend. Maybe check he can keep up with you?"

'Fuck, I've already used him being unwell twice last week. Can't make him seem too sickly or Sophia will think I'm dating a weakling. The last time I used business trip was the week before, wasn't it?'

"Sorry Mads, he's in England on some business thing still. He was away the whole weekend."

"Oh, that sucks. I hope you weren't too lonely. You should have given me a call and we could've hung out."

The other girl looked so genuinely remorseful that Emma relaxed her guard. Madison was her friend after all, even if it was a bit harder to talk to her and Sophia lately, that hadn't changed. Taking a sip of her juice Emma wondered if maybe she should just come clean and admit to her lies.

"So if he was away and you weren't hanging with us, I bet you had a hell of a party. How many studs did you wear out this time?"

Not long ago Emma would have been appalled at the suggestion that she would cheat on someone, especially with multiple guys at once. Of course that was before she realised just how much more mature than her her friends were, how childish her idea of normal was. It wasn't like she could admit that though.

"Totally. I had four guys at once, all weekend."

Madison didn't respond immediately, staring at her lunch until Emma was certain that she'd said something wrong and given the game away. Then Madison sat up and tossed aside some surgically extracted tomatoes.

"Sorry Ems, I wish my mom would just listen to me already and stop putting those disgusting things in my sandwiches. It's not like I eat them anyway. You were saying?"

"Just how I had four guys at the same time, no big deal."

Madison raised an eyebrow and Emma wondered if she'd gone too far. Was four too many?

"Isn't four a bit low for you? I thought you said you didn't bother with less than five unless it was your boyfriend?"

'Did I? Shit shit shit, I can't keep all these stories straight. Uh...'

"...Yeah, yeah I mean obviously I just meant four guys inside me at once. It was seven guys total."

"Four inside you at the same time?"

"It was, uh, great. I had one in my mouth of course and another in my pussy and then my ass, you know how it goes."

"Where was the fourth guy?"

"Huh?"

"You said it was four inside you at once, that's three..."

"Oh he-he was in my ass too. Yeah I had two dicks in my ass, so that's four."

"Wow, you go girl. So that's four of them, you said it was seven total so what were you doing with the other three. I'm guessing handjobs for two of them."

"Obviously. We swapped around a bunch, but I mean my hands are so good that they didn't even care if I just used them, my hands I mean."

Madison looked like she was meeting one of the Triumvirate, the same awed expression that had driven Emma to ever greater heights in their pranks on Taylor. Oh how she wished that they were talking about some way to fuck with Taylor.

Getting ahead of the inevitable next question, Emma smirked and patted Madison on the head as she spoke, "That just leaves lucky number seven, you wanna know what I was doing to that guy?"

A quick nod crushed Emma's hope that she might be done.

"I...I uh..." 'Ok I've already used all my holes, my hands are full, two dicks with one hand? No she'll never believe that, maybe something with my legs?'

"So what did you do? Ems?"

"Well, I..." 'No, that's totally gross. Something, something, what bits of me would still be open? Uh...'

"Earth to Emma."

"Armpit!"

"Wha-?"

"Yeah, the seventh guy was fucking my armpit of course. Haven't you ever done that?"

"No. I wouldn't have...does it feel good?"

"Pretty good. I mean the guys cum so fast when I let them do it so I never have time to get all that into it. They love it though. One of those guys said it, uh, it felt better than a blowjob."

'What the fuck am I even talking about. There's no way she's gonna believe this. I should have just come clean from the start.'

"That sounds amazing. I'll have to try that next time I have company. In fact I'm gonna text Sophia and tell her to try it too. We can compare notes."

Madison stood up as she was talking, leaving her bag on the table and nodding towards the hallway leading to the nearest bathrooms.

A few weeks ago Emma would have gone with her just to keep the conversation going.

Now she found herself waving her friend away with a smile and internally thanking anything that would listen for giving her a break.


* * *

Out of sight of Emma, Madison practically sprinted for the nearest bathroom and ducked inside. She locked herself in a stall and sat up on the toilet, hugging her knees to her chest. Her happy expression fell apart and she let her real feelings show in a mix of disgust and fear.

"Two d-dicks? In her ass?!" she whispered to herself.

'No wonder I can't get a date if that's the kind of thing girls are doing. I am such a loser, what kind of girl hasn't even kissed a boy at fifteen? I can't let them find out. Even Taylor's got to have more experience than me'

Madison pursed her lips as an idea came to her.

'Really I just need someone to practice with, yeah. Someone pathetic enough that no-one will believe them and easy enough that I don't have to worry they'll say no.'

As she tapped out the message she had promised to send Sophia, Madison considered who out of her classmates would best fit her criteria.

'How about that Greg kid that was always sniffing around Taylor?'


* * *

Lounging backstage of the latest ridiculous event aimed at getting dumb kids not to sign up with the gangs by showing them how super special awesome the fucking Wards were, Sophia glanced at the message she'd gotten from Madison. Then she took a longer look and wondered if autocorrect had struck again. She thought of texting her friend back to check, but the problem was that if she wasn't then it would give away that Sophia wasn't exactly as experienced as she was claiming to be. From there it would only be a short step for Madison to wonder if she had any experience at all, to start looking down on her just because she didn't want to fuck anything that moved like her friends did.

Finding out how much of a slut Madison was had been bad enough, but finding out that Emma, her fierce and wonderful Emma was like that too? That had felt like swallowing broken glass.

Of course Sophia knew how to deal with that kind of feeling. She even had the perfect target lined up.

After all, Emma might have refused to reveal the name of her boyfriend, but she'd still described plenty about him. Enough to make the connection to someone Sophia had introduced her to, to one of the few guys that Sophia hadn't felt like glaring at when they looked at Emma. Dean Stanfield was a gentleman after all, even if he wasn't completely in love with Glory Girl and way too honourable to cheat.

Or so she'd thought.

Flicking through her phone to the draft she'd been working on since finding out that Dean had been on a business trip right when Emma's mysterious boyfriend was, Sophia made a few final alterations and then sent it straight to the inbox of New Wave's rising star.

'Just you wait until tonight Dean. Me and your girlfriend are gonna show you what happens to cheating scumbags!'


* * *

While all of this was going on, another girl with ties to the three friends was enjoying her lunchtime immensely.

The bed she was face down on was ridiculously soft, and she was pretty sure that her blindfold was made of silk. The scarf binding her hands together behind her back was definitely silk. Taylor knew because she'd made it herself, though she'd had a more traditional purpose in mind when she gave it to Brian that very morning.

Then a smack of skin on skin split the air and pain drove every other thought from her head. It pierced into her, leaving a mark that she could feel like fire on her skin, except fire hurt and this heat that followed the impact was anything but painful. She bit into the sheets and a moan bubbled up from somewhere deep in her chest. Even as the pain faded to a mild sting across her ass, she wanted more. She'd lost count, but there had to be more coming because it just felt too damn good to be over already.

When the next thing she felt on her ass was a gentle touch rather than a sharp spank, Taylor couldn't help but pout into the sheets. She shivered as those gentle hands applied a cream that felt ridiculously cold on her skin, goosebumps breaking out across her back as it was slowly rubbed in.

"There's no way that was ten." Her voice was a little muffled, but she knew he could hear the accusation in her tone.

"I'm pretty sure I can count to ten."

She didn't really have a counter to that, not that Taylor was going to let that stop her from complaining.

"Then we should have gone higher than ten, I'm telling you I don't care what the book says about building up to it. I can take mo-"

A yelp cut her off as his fingers brushed a spot on her inner thigh that suddenly felt like it was on fire. Not in the fun way either, more like the 'Lung just bitch slapped me' way. Though the cream helped a lot.

Luckily for his decade long streak of not being stung by bees, Brian kept his urge to say 'I told you so' in check.


* * *

After he was done with the cream, or more accurately after he felt like he couldn't use the cream as an excuse to feel up Taylor's cute butt any more, Brian wiped his hands on a towel he'd kept nearby and went to pick up her robe. As he crossed the room to where he'd tossed it earlier, a swarm of insects emerged from various nooks and crannies and began manipulating the scarf binding her hands, their neatly choreographed efforts making short work of his knots.

He was careful not to turn around when he heard the rustle of sheets. Instead holding out the robe for more of her minions to ferry it over to her, then holding himself still despite the tantalising sounds of her slipping it on. No easy feat.

Not that he didn't get it. As much as he wanted to see her naked, it wasn't like he was ready to strip down in front of her either. Taking it slow was how they had agreed to go about this. Whatever the hell 'this' was.

"You can look now, I mean I'm dressed."

Turning around Brian wasn't surprised to see the blush lighting Taylor's cheeks. His own face felt pretty hot. They had just...

The silence stretched on until Brian found his voice.

"Well," he croaked, hurrying to clear his throat before continuing; "I guess we'd better get back to work."

"You're right. Armoured car robberies don't plan themselves." There was more than a little awkwardness in her voice.

But when he stepped past her to head for the bedroom door, Brian found her hand brushing his and stopped in his tracks.

Carefully, cautiously, he let their fingers intertwine, not daring to look back at her face in case the embarrassment returned. Her hand told him enough anyway, holding firm and certain to his own. Telling him that she had a smile to match his own.

Then they walked out the bedroom door, and got back to being supervillains.

Familiarity

(Автор: volantredx)

It was beginning to be a long day for Director Emily Piggot. There was the recent round of funding fights, and with DC breathing down her neck about the lack of results in dealing with the big players odds were there was going to be less to go around this year, and shit was getting worse. That much was evident when Miss Militia strode in file in hand.

"My report from Sophia's testimony," she stated placing the file on the desk. "Panacea was able to treat the girls' injuries. The civilian, Emma, was remarkably unharmed. From the sounds of things it was some new cape trying to make their name taking down a hero."

"Do we have a discription?"

"Barely. It seems that they attacked Sophia before she had any idea they were even there. Bugs it seems. Looks like a Master and a powerful one."

"Shit," Piggot cursed under her breath. Masters were always terrible for PR and a pain to keep contained. "Pass it along to the others. The faster the new punk on the block realizes what a mistake they made the better."

"Yes ma'am." Miss Militia saluted, but Piggot could see that she was hesitant about something.

"Is there more."

"No, not really, just..." Miss Militia trailed off.

"Go on."

"Well there was something when I was speaking to the civilian about the attack. The way she carried herself seemed very familiar."

"She was at Shadow Stalker's probation hearing," Piggot pointed out.

"It's not that, it's the way she spoke, how she carried herself. I've seen the same behavior a lot over the years."

"In recent triggers?" That was the last thing Piggot needed. If the girl trigger and had Shadow Stalker as her cape mentor, the Director could barely restrain a shudder.

"No, in abuse victims."

"You think the girl has a troubled home?"

Miss Militia shook her head. "No, at least I don't think so. They way she kept looking at Sophia for assurance, and how she seemed to avoid talking about the lead up to the attack, I've seen it in several domestic disputes. I think...I think Sophia might be abusing the girl, likely emotionally and perhaps even physically."

Piggot let out a heavy sigh. "Are you sure?"

"No, like I said it's just a feeling."

"Then there isn't anything we can do."

"Nothing?"

"What would you have us do? Unless the girl comes forward we have no case to build on and she doesn't seem likely to, so we have nothing."

"Still you're saying we ignore that one of our Wards might be abusing her girlfriend."

"There is only so much control we can exercise on our Wards lives. The system was built that way intentionally. Were it any other Ward I'd have Aegis try to get some information, but with Shadow Stalker, the girl will just stonewall. I'll pass word to her case worker. Unless something more concrete than impressions gained less than 12 hours after a violent attack comes our way we do nothing."

"That seems rather callous."

"Yes," Piggot admitted turning her chair to face the window of her office. "But it's a callous world out there. You'll go mad trying to save everyone. You'll never succeed and they won't thank you for it."

Silence reigned in the office, before Miss Militia let herself out. Director Piggot wondered if she would indeed drop it. Somehow she doubted it.

Awkward First Times

(Автор: Anzer-ke)

Even before reading Volant's take on it I much preferred the second of those ideas.

That said personally I'm liking the idea mostly for the potential for Taylor and Lisa to team up to try and help Emma deal with her situation.


* * *

"Wait, wait fucking wait I said! That really fucking hurts dammit!"

"But you said-"

"I don't care what I said dipshit, stop fucking moving! The shit were they talking about? This doesn't feel good at all!"

"I-I can't, it feels too good, I-!"

"Shut the fuck up Greg! And why is your fucking loser dick so big!"

"-!!!"

"Did you just fucking cum inside me!"


* * *

"I can't believe it took us this long to accept this, I mean it's like, it's like, what's the word? When something's ironic but it's not irony?"

"Sophia, just screw me already. My parents will be home in a few hours and I want to spend that time screaming your name. You got that?"

"Hell the fuck yes."

"Okay, then get naked and grab the pink box from under my bed."

"This one? Oh Emma you are so damn hot, you have no idea how hard it's been not to just-"

"Shhh. I know now. And you're not bad looking yourself hero. Now get that box open so we can get started."

"Alright survivor, what's in here anyw— holy fucking shit!!!"

"What, what happened?"

"What do you mean what happened?"

"I mean why did you throw the box at me, was there a bug or something?"

"A bug? No there's just a bunch of rubber fucking cocks! What the fuck are these things!"

"My dildos. Like you don't have any."

"No I fucking don't! There's like five of them in here! This one's fucking massive!!"

"Will you stop yelling...You mean you've never used a dildo before?"

"No I haven't fucking used a dildo before!"

"I said stop yelling!"

"Shit, sorry..."

"If, if you've never used one before then what did you think we were going to do?"

"I dunno. Touch each other? Rub together and stuff."

"I, I guess we could do that too. I just really wanted you to fuck me is all."

"We don't need dildos to fuck Emma."

"Well I want them. I love how they feel and I want to feel that because of you."

"...okay, okay so I just shove it in you right? Which one do you want me to use?"

"Oh I got something special for us. It just came in the mail yesterday and, huh, I guess I must not have put in the box. Oh yeah, it's in with my socks."

"You want me to-?"

"No I've got it. I'm sure I put it in, here it is!"

"Okay what the fuck is that thing?"

"It's double ended. See one end goes in me, then the other end goes in you and we can fuck each other properly."

"Wait...you want to put that thing inside me?!"

"Yeah, trust me it'll feel great."

"It'll fucking rip me in half is what it'll do."

"It'll be fine, you're always running and working out and stuff. It'll slip right in."

"Emma, you are not putting that thing inside me."

"Urgh. Didn't you say that you were bi? How can you be this freaked out by a dick? It's not even real."

"Because I didn't think we'd need a piece of rubber to make love okay!"

"Well I do. I need a piece of rubber if you want to fucking call it that!"

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

"It means that you should get off your fucking high horse and stop acting like I'm a slut just because I use a dildo like any normal fucking girl does!"

"Oh like you know so much about sex! You're just as new to this Emma, so stop acting like you're better than me! What kind of kid thinks girls can't have sex without a cock involved!"

"Says the girl talking about 'making love'?! What are you, twelve years old? Grow the fuck up Sophia!"

slam

"Wait! I didn't...I didn't mean it...shit."


* * *

"It's fine. How many times do I need to tell you?"

"I feel like I'm meant to say this never happens to me, but I don't exactly have any other experience to go on."

"Come on Brian. We both knew this was possible, I mean its pretty flattering really."

"Flattering. Yeah, that's how you're feeling right now, flattered. I bet."

"Yeah actually, it is. I like that it felt so good inside me that— Well, I mean-"

"That I barely lasted two minutes? You can just say it. And I know you're disappointed, you don't have to hide it."

"Stop worrying, you made me...you know, like a dozen times first. If anything I'm the one who should feel bad. Especially with how good your...stuff, feels inside me."

"Can you still not say cum? We just had sex Taylor, and it's not like you don't swear. What is it about that one word?"

"It's embarrassing."

"Well I guess I can't really talk about embarrassing right now."

"Will you just drop it already! I don't care, I don't think any less of you for it and I'm certainly not unsatisfied! Can we just move on?"

"..."

"Don't be like that. Look, I'm sorry okay? I just don't get why this is bothering you so much."

"..."

"Hmph. If that caveman ego of yours is so wounded, then how about you stop sulking and put those fingers of yours to work. We can see how long it takes you to make me beg with something you have some experience with."

"...You say that like it's meant to be hard."

"Oh? I'll have you know that I've been practic— Mmmmmm! Is that the best you ca— Mmmmm!! Fuck! Fucking fuck me! Please!"

"So that was, what? About five seconds? Could you be any more sensitive?"

"Hnnggg!!"

"You know I'm starting to feel better about my endurance already."

"S-shut up and spank me already."

"Yes Ma'am."


* * *

"I...shit Alec, I'm not sure I'm ready for this. I know you're not him but I still, it still..."

"Nah, I get it. Really."

"You, you don't mind?"

"I can wait for your pussy Aisha, in the meantime I got you this."

"A strap-on?"

"Yep, and I'm lubed up and ready to go."

"...You can be pretty sweet sometimes, you know."

"Damn right I can. I'm fucking awesome."

"Well then fucking awesome, bend over and pucker up."

Glorious Tits

(Автор: doomlord9)

Skitter stood in the meeting room with various other Heroes and Villains, once again teaming up to deal with the latest threat to their city.

Clockblocker stood next to her, his costume worse off from recent events to the point that his facemask had been shredded and replaced with a basic domino mask.

They stood next to each other in awkward silence, Clockblocker standing rigidly at attention and staring straight forward, refusing to look at her.

Skitter sighed "Go ahead Clock," She said with exasperation. "I don't want you to hurt yourself trying not to look. You have thirty seconds where I swear not to take offense."

The words were barely out of her mouth before Dennis had buried his face in her generous cleavage and was inhaling deeply. Skitter was so shocked she didn't do anything, not having expected this.

Dennis popped out of her cleavage like a jack in the box. "And on the eighth day God created breasts, and said they must come in pairs! And it was good, nay, it was great!"

A couple of nearby capes stopped and nodded.

"For though a man only has one mouth, he has two hands!"

"Amen," one out of town Ward said.

"As a babe they nourished and sheltered my body and as a man they nourish and shelter my very soul!" Dennis proclaimed.

"Yes!" several men, and a few women, agreed loudly.

"When hurt, they comfort and sad, they cheer!" he preached, his audience growing as more capes stopped to listen and nod.

"Sing it, brother!" someone called out.

"Skitter, I would conquer all the dimensions of Earth, for the manpower needed to build a machine that would let me tap that ass!" Dennis finished with a roar to a tsunami of applause.

*Thump!* Dennis fell over with his eyes unfocused.

Slowly the applause died down as they looked at their new Messiah on the floors giggling to himself. "Is...is he alright?"

Skitter looked confused for a few seconds before the lightbulb came on "Ah! The Toxin! I forgot about that...."

Several capes looked horrified at the thought of those glorious breasts being dangerous "T...Toxin?!?"

Skitter took no notice of the effect her words had, still examining the delirious Clockblocker mumbling to himself on the floor and absently replied "Hmm? Oh yeah, I was getting annoyed with people groping my breasts without my permission so I started coating them with a contact toxin that I am immune to. The paralytic and hallucinogenic effects make it obvious who grabbed me in short order. It's even helped me in cape fights, that's how I defeated Oni Lee in under a minute!"

Many attending capes began wondering how long it would take to develop a good enough poison resistance while Kid Win focused on a more important part of that statement, sliding up next to Skitter and attracting her attention from Clockblocker "So....this permission thing. How does this work? Do I fill out an application or....?"

Coiled

(Автор: hobonisuru)

"I won't have it said that I'm not a man of my word."

There was a particularly ironic sort of torture with it all. The very last thing I expected was for Coil to actually go along with his deal. Yeah, I'd hoped for it in many ways, but I'd never really expected it when you get right down to it. Lisa said it'd never happen, and from all I knew about Coil — no, I suppose I should say Director Calvert — he wasn't exactly one to just let his resources go, no matter what kind of bargain was struck.

Life always threw curveballs at me, I swear.

But I was still on edge. I kept watch over Dinah, and the men Coil had observing her through her detox. I talked with Lisa, who was even more stupefied than me. I waited for the other shoe to drop.

And waited, and waited, and waited. Days turned to weeks, and then after two full months of carefully following the instructions he'd laid out — of the Undersiders and his other subordinates slowly losing territory to the PRT — I was finally given a message to meet him in person. Not only was I to meet him in person, I was to meet him in private, and as a civilian.

This was it, I said to myself, and Lisa said he had something in mind, but it didn't feel like a betrayal.

Should I go, I wondered to myself, but there really wasn't much of a choice, was there?

August 19th, exactly two months after Calvert had let Dinah go home I walked out of my lair in a sundress and went to my meeting spot — which ended up being the second story of a modest apartment building. By now, I'd had my injuries — including my blindness — healed through some under the table parahuman help, but it was through my bugs that I sensed the building was almost entirely empty, save for the man in question of course. No bodyguards, no other residents. The sign over one of the windows outside said there was space available, but that was probably just camouflage.

I knocked on the door with a feeling of trepidation, and tried to calm myself as much as possible when I heard Calvert's invitation. "Come in."

The apartment building was air conditioned, it was in a fairly undamaged area of the city after all, but a blast of heat hit me when I entered from the hallway into the apartment living room. He was seated right next to the balcony door and next to him was a tall glass table, and an empty chair which he gestured at wordlessly.

I couldn't see much of any other furnishings in the room, a couple of bland paintings, a small TV next to a loveseat, but my bugs let me know there was a fully stocked kitchen through the doorway to my right, and a bedroom with an adjacent bathroom in the doorway to my right. It was fairly small by my current standards, which left me wondering why Calvert chose the location. From what I knew of him, he was more the type to go for something more grandiose.

Still, that hardly mattered at the moment, so I walked over and sat down across from him. I took off my wide brimmed hat and set it on the floor. The insects in my hair shifted subtly as the motion almost dislodged a few of them.

"Tea?" Calvert made another gesture, this time at the pitcher on the table. I paused for a second, debating on whether or not he might have drugged the beverage, before giving a nod — it seemed like a pointless endeavor for him to try at this point.

Even so, the feeling of trepidation only increased as I saw him reach out and pour a glass of iced tea and slide it next to me. It just seemed so... ordinary. A completely normal thing, polite even — which was not something I really would expect from a villain like Calvert. Sure, he technically wasn't Coil any longer, but the underlying personality, I felt, was still something core to his person.

I felt a droplet of sweat slide down from my armpit until it hit the fabric of my dress. It was more from nervousness than the heat blazing in, but I still sipped at the tea — after seeing Calvert take a gulp from his own glass.

For a few seconds, neither of us said anything, and I just looked at the man much of my life had been centered around for the past few months. It was such a short time, really, but I felt like more had happened in those months than a great deal of the rest of my life. More variety than just continued bullying, anyway. In some ways, it was also the first time I'd really gotten a look at Coil unmasked. The last time I'd seen him in person I'd been blind after all.

I suppose the main thing I could say about him was that he looked very little like Coil now. The bodysuit he'd worn before put so much emphasis on his thin frame, making him look almost skeletal, but the polo shirt and slacks he had on didn't hug his frame so tightly, giving an entirely different image. He was, in a word, average. His exposed arms seemed somewhat muscular in a very wiry sense, giving a hint of being toned rather than merely thin. Only a slight gauntness to his cheeks gave a different impression.

"You wanted to see me?" I broke the silence as I looked at his face, taking in his expression as it shifted to an amused sort of look. A black, almost bushy eyebrow quirked and he gave a thin smile. His slightly sunken cheeks folded from the motion, and his grey eyes locked onto mine.

"Yes, I did indeed." His voice gave it away. It sounded exactly the same as I'd remembered since I first met him. "But before anything else, I wanted check on your satisfaction to holding up my end of our deal."

I swallowed as a feeling of being led into a trap loomed over me. "I don't have any complaints; Dinah seems to be doing much better now."

"Good, good..." Calvert flicked his eyes to balcony — or rather, to the park outside the apartment building which the balcony gave a nice view of. "I felt it was time to address your side of the bargain.

"As Tattletale gave a brief overview on our last meeting of sorts, I'm planning on letting go a number of the Undersiders' services once the PRT's control of the city has strengthened further. Thanks in part to my proxies in the city's government I'll have almost total authority in the city come November, and I'll be wanting most of the villains out of the city after the elections."

I swallowed again. "But not me."

"But not you." Calvert gave a small nod, looking back to me with that thin smile still on his face. "You agreed to work for me for however long I desired provided I let my pet go, which I have."

"I'm — " I started, but quickly stopped as Calvert held up his palm.

"My main question to you, right now," he continued as if I hadn't interrupted, "is how far, exactly, you're willing to go for me.

"I have no complaints on your services so far, you've outdone my expectations, but now that the city is coming firmly under my control, I imagine the nature of your work for me will change, and evolve."

"I... don't understand." I said slowly, my mind turning his words over, examining them. A change in identity, perhaps?

"Let me be more precise, then." Calvert paused, sipping at his tea. "Your morals have always been a very clear guiding point for you, but how far would you be willing to bend them for me, given your promise? Would you kill for me? Would you die for me?"

"I — " A thrill of fright shot up my spine.

"Or, to give a hypothetical example, let us say that an acquaintance of mine was planning a coup, planning to kill me." My eyes went wide before I could stop it. "But let's say, hypothetically, that I asked you to kill that acquaintance, would you?"

"I — " I didn't even know what I could say. He knew. He fucking knew. Of course he fucking knew. Shit.

"Or," Calvert said, still as casual as ever as he pulled out a gun and flicked off the safety with a sharp click — and for a second, I thought about attacking him with everything I had — and set it on the table between us. "In this scenario, let's say that acquaintance was something of a lonely person, and wouldn't be willing to go through with the coup if their dearest friend held a gun to her own head and told them, utterly serious, that she'd have to kill herself if that acquaintance didn't abandon the plan."

I stared at the gun like it was a hissing viper, and flicked my gaze to Calvert as he looked at me, bushy eyebrow quirked once more. Despite the heat, I felt a cold chill creep down my back, even as I tried to just think despite the panic trying to overtake me.

In many ways, I could barely believe it. I couldn't truly believe that Calvert was being so... forgiving, to put simply. He knew, possibly from torturing us for information with his power, but he still knew and he hadn't just killed us. It wouldn't have been hard. A sniper rifle, a bomb, maybe something from an out of town parahuman, there were endless ways to get rid of us given all the time he'd had, and the fact that I hadn't gone through with it — yet — because he'd held up his end of the deal.

"I... I don't..." I stuttered for a second before stopping, swallowing nosily — and taking a sip of my tea as I tried to get some lubrication in my suddenly dry throat — before taking a breath to try and calm down and just push away the emotions tumbling through me. "What... guarantee would I have that, in that hypothetical scenario, you'd continue to keep your end of our deal?"

"Yes," Calvert said, giving a sort of a huff of laugh. "I suppose that would make it hard to check on my end of it, wouldn't it? But let's say for the sake of argument that you could trust me to uphold it fully, even with your demise. It's a hypothetical situation, after all."

"I..." I trailed off, thinking, albeit somewhat erratically. Part of me was trying to think of what just I could do now, did we try it anyway, run, fight, what?

But another part of me did think about his question seriously, tried to flip around the supposedly hypothetical in a way so I could examine it honestly. What if I really could trust Calvert, which I couldn't, really, but what if I could. If I, under his orders, told Lisa that if she didn't abandon her plan to overthrow the man who'd hired her at gunpoint, I'd have to kill myself. It was so utterly ridiculous in so many different ways — but really, wasn't so much of what I'd done already so? The main question, though, was could I actually do that, in all seriousness?

Probably not.

Could I kill Lisa?

Definitely not.

"No, I don't think I could." Actually giving the answer seemed to drain something out of me. I was still nervous, hell, I was actually kind of terrified of what was going to happen now, but I felt a sort of serenity in actually giving that answer honestly. But on the other hand, it probably wasn't the smartest of answers.

"I see." Calvert gave a sigh, before picking up the gun, flicking the safety back on and holstering it on left leg again. I'd noticed it from the start thanks to my insects, but hadn't really expected him to pull it out. "A pity, but I did expect as much. Let me ask something a bit less roundabout, then. If I had a need for you to seduce and sleep with someone, would you?"

For a moment I froze, my brain just sort of stopped as I tried parsing the question. An insane image of me dressed up as some sort of gaudy hooker and acting as a hanger on to a fat businessman popped into my head. I'd have laughed if I didn't think that Calvert was absolutely serious. A different sort of feeling shot through me then — revulsion. A twisting snake in my gut that writhed about, making me want to vomit out all the tea I'd just drank.

But I swallowed it down, and thought. Could I do it? Would I do it? And, perhaps most importantly, if I couldn't just how would that impact Calvert's... forgiveness, for the lack of a better word. Was this all just sort some of roundabout interrogation he was constructing through his power, he certainly seemed at ease enough for it, or was this really just a more thorough grounding of what I was going to need to do in the future?

I didn't know. I had absolutely no idea what Calvert was planning here, and that was probably the most frightening thing. But I did know that I needed to give an answer, an honest one, because something told me — just a gut feeling — that he'd know if I was lying.

So I thought some more. The thought of having to just whoring myself out was flat out revolting, not the quite the same kind of sickening feeling at the thought of killing someone in cold blood, but no less chilling in a way. But the question of whether or not I could do it, that was the main thing. So, Taylor, I thought to myself, could you do that?

Probably, if I absolutely had to. It was different from killing someone, after all. It was something I'd do to myself, something in me that I'd have to sacrifice. In a way, that confirmation made me feel just a bit dirtier, think just a little bit less of myself.

"I..." I started, and an image of Brian thrust itself into my brain, making me hesitate. In all honesty, we'd been growing more and more distant. I'd tried to act as a stable element in his life, but we just hadn't been clicking. If it really, actually came down to it, I'd have break up with him — hell, I'd definitely have to break up with him regardless when it came time for the rest of the Undersiders leave Brockton Bay, but this thought was like the final nail in the coffin to me.

"Yes, I could. I... would have a hard time doing it, but I could, if needed." Saying it out loud felt even worse, like I'd thrown away my dignity. I imagined the expression on my dad's face if he ever heard it, and felt a pang of shame.

Which was, in so many ways, utterly ridiculous. I'd already done so many horrible things, even if it was to many horrible people, and I'd been planning on killing the man in front of me for quite some time — even if I'd avoided thinking about it. What was that to selling my body out? Nothing, it was barely a drop in the bucket of whatever horrible karma I'd been piling onto myself despite my best intentions.

Shit, thinking about it like that hurt. I'd never wanted things to turn out this way, but the world never did seem to cooperate with me.

"I see." Calvert's other eyebrow rose up, a clear display of surprise. He hadn't been expecting me to say that. "Prove it to me."

My breath hitched, and I looked at him in shock. The sweat on me, creeping down my armpits, beading on my forehead, suddenly seemed very cold on my skin. For one instant, I felt like laughing hysterically, but then the revulsion came back full force and I had to swallow down the bile that was rising in my throat.

"I..." I shakily took a sip of my tea. "H-how?"

"Take off your clothes." Calvert looked at me the same as he always had throughout this meeting, but that casual air had suddenly taken on a far more sinister presence to me. There was something more behind that almost bored look in his eyes, now.

Or was it just in my head? Was he uninterested, but just testing me? In some ways, the unknown frightened me more than the order. But what else was there to do? I thought, for a single moment, of refusing, or attacking him, or anything else besides following his command.

But I did.

I stood up and grabbed the sides of my dress and brought up over my head and set it down on my chair, careful not to dislodge any of the insects clinging to it. I paused for a moment, standing in front of him — still looking bored — while I was naked except for my sandals, uncertain. I saw a clock on the other hand of the wall tick away a few seconds, and Calvert didn't say a word, just looked at him. In some ways, I felt a twang of regret at not wearing something else beyond a single dress — like if I'd had more clothing I could have felt less vulnerable from the action, but I put that aside. It was a useless feeling.

I let a slow breath as I fidgeted for a second and fought the urge to cover up with my hands. Instead, I forced my arms to hang loosely at my sides, almost appearing relaxed if not for the slight shaking that trembled through my limbs. I gave a noisy swallow, trying to work up some moisture in mouth, and licked my lips. All the while, Calvert just stared, that same thin smile, that same bored look in his eyes.

I watched a few more seconds pass without a word, and suddenly had a thought. Was he using his powers right now? Was he, perhaps, having me do something quite different, something a bit more than just stand silently in some other reality? It was more than a tad unsettling.

"What now?" I finally asked, after letting ten more seconds tick away on the clock.

Calvert blinked, and took a long, slow breath, before giving a short wave. "You can put your clothes back on. That's enough of proof to me for now."

"Did..." I worked my jaw for a second, a strange need for confirmation overcoming me. "Did you just use your powers? Are you, I mean?"

"Would it matter if I was?" A curious look entered his eyes, and he quirked an eyebrow again.

"I — " For a second I felt like I'd overstepped myself, like I'd just made a mistake. It wasn't really important, anyway. "No, not really. I was just... curious."

"Then yes, I did." Calvert stood up, and I had to stop myself from taking a step back. I wasn't suddenly helpless now that I'd taken off my clothes, or even more powerful if I had them on given they were just ordinary ones, but I still felt... different. Enough that I had to force myself to act coolly, keep myself from hunching defensively. "You, as I'm beginning to expect, performed well beyond my hopes."

Calvert pulled a key out of his pocket and set it on the table. "Keep this. When I call for you, I'll want you to come here again."

So saying, he left at a leisurely pace. I didn't move as I watched him leave the room, and the apartment building through my bugs. I looked at the key on the table, naked in the wake of the summer heat blasting into the room, turmoil buzzing in my mind. I didn't even know how to take any of this. Should I prepare for Calvert to try and kill me? Should I feel dirty from having to strip down in front of him, from whatever he might have had me do?

I don't know.

Ever since he'd let Dinah go, I'd been tormenting myself what thoughts of just what would happen in the future. In many cases, I'd wondered if he was going to have me do when things were all said and done, and I'd wondered just what I'd do if it came down to it. I'd never come up with a good answer. Did saving Dinah justify it all, or should risk everything and try Lisa's plan, even if he kept his promise.

I don't know.

I pulled back on my clothes and grabbed the key, not really sure of anything anymore. I'd call Lisa, undoubtedly, but I didn't think she'd have any answer either.

I really don't know.


* * *

I know, I know. No porn (that you saw!). This isn't exactly something safe for work though. This is actually something I wrote pretty close in time to Carol, but I was hoping to get some sort of continued work on before posting. That inspiration never came, but I still felt like the writing wasn't too bad. Ignoring the creeping from Coil, I always felt like a story where he did indeed keep his end of the bargain because he was like, "You know, I bet I could actually go pretty far with this Skitter girl" would have been interesting.

If I ever did continue this, it'd probably be some strange shit with Taylor getting her espionage skills going on as CoilCalvert's right hand woman, in more ways than one.

Coil's Limp Snake

(Автор: Ziel)

Timeline B

Coil: This... I swear this doesn't happen a lot.

Taylor: *on top of the table, with Coil straddling her* ...Uh... It... Happens?

Coil: Just give me a minute.

Taylor: Maybe you're out of practice?

Coil: Said the virgin. No. I have plenty of sex. It's just...

Taylor: Are you hard yet? I have people to intimidate today.

Coil: GIVE ME A MINUTE! I— look. Just listen to me. I'm not used to.... this.

Taylor: Supervillain sex?

Coil: No. I'm not used to all this... consent.

Taylor: Oh.

Coil: This timeline is getting deleted for so many reasons. Until then, could you... I don't know... Struggle? Pretend I have a gun to your head?

Taylor: Oh no. Please help. I am being molested by a villain. Ahh. Like that?

Coil: ...good enough. And... Could you try to sound like a ten year old girl?

Taylor: ...

Coil: ...

Taylor: ...

Coil: All in favor of deleting this timeline?

Taylor: Aye.

Coil: Agreed. I look forward to a long and sexless partnership with you.

Taylor: ...do you see why we tried to murder you?

No Obligations

(Автор: Helpless Kittens)

Sarah shambled into her home, exhausted from the day. Her feet were sore, her back ached and her damned bra's wire had been digging into her flesh. With the tired fervor of the truly weary, she peeled off her shirt and unclasped the offending garment. The Super Hero known as Battery sighed contentedly as she tenderly rubbed the sore indentations.

"See, this is why I love being married to you. You work all day to bring home the paycheck, and when you get back, you immediately put on a show!"

Sarah glared at her erstwhile husband as he lay on their couch. "Shut up." She said without the usual umph.

"Not even a 'You jackass!' Or a slap upside the head? Must of been a long day. Tell me about it?"

He gestured for her to lay with him. The couch itself was just large enough for two if they liked each other, and even if she didn't always like to admit it, Sarah liked Ethan very much. She dropped onto her husband without worry for his safety, trusting his powers to redirect the force and her own to blunt any physics based repercussions. The weathered couch groaned under the force and the extra weight but held firm.

"Remember that new gang that robbed Lung?" Sarah asked as she used her husband's broad, firm chest as a pillow. "No hope that they're the 'Robs from villains only' type. Unless you consider moderately successful banks evil."

Ethan chuckled. "Those dastardly bankers! You'll never deny me a loan again!" He mock-cried in his best Cobra Commander voice. Sarah graciously did not tell him that it was utterly terrible.

"What's worse is they hit the bank in broad ass daylight right next to Arcadia."

"So naturally our crack team of Heroes stopped them dead in their tracks and you're tired because you had to spend hours doing processing paperwork, right?"

Sarah lifted her head to give Ethan a confused look.

"You know things never go that well. Your job used to be making sure that things don't go well even after miracles like that happen. Why would you even ask that?"

"I'm an optimist."

"You're a moron."

"Well, a moron like me got a second chance and a smoking hot wife, so I figure lesser miracles might happen too, Puppy."

Sarah put her head back down and sighed. "See, you almost hit it out of the park with that but you used that stupid pet name. You almost tricked me into thinking you were a great husband or something."

Ethan preened. "I am pretty great, aren't I? Could do with less verbal abuse though."

Sarah pressed her body a little harder against his. "Your boner says otherwise." She whispered huskily.

"It couldn't be that my sexy, sexy wife is topless on top of me. Nope. Not at all." His hands moved down her back in gentle patterns. Slowly, lightly, he teased his way down, down, down, until he reached her buttocks. With a firm grip on her ass, he pulled her upwards until they were face to face.

"Did you want something?" Sarah asked, her voice giving no hint to the blush on her face.

"Only what I've always wanted, Puppy." With sure strength, he flipped their positions, putting Sarah with her back to the couch and a lover on top.

"Ethan, I'm tired." Sarah protested, a long buried shadow raising it's ugly head from the mires of memory. "It's been a really long day..." Irrational fear began to fill her. Fear that he wouldn't...

Instantly, Ethan stopped. Relief flooded her as he got up and gave her some space. For a long time, Sarah lay there and let her heart slow down. As the adrenalin began to fade, she sat up on the beaten couch.

"You okay Sarah?" Ethan asked, worry etched on his face and carved in his tone.

"Yeah. I'm good. Sorry I ruined the moment."

"None of that. If you don't feel like having sex, then you don't have to. No obligations here." Ethan stated with complete seriousness.

"Remember that the next time you want me to watch a ballet. No obligations." Ethan stated with complete mock-seriousness.

"You ass." Sarah denounced him with a smile on her face.

Well . . . Shit

(Автор: volantredx)

Impossible. That was the first thing Tattletale thought when the announcement came over the bracelet. Leviathan deceased Shelter A-3. It just seemed so fantastical that her mind could only reject it even as her power told her the truth of the sentiment. Then the reports started to trickle in from the reports she could over hear, and the day went from impossible to fascicle. It wasn't Eidolon, or Scion or any of the other capes people talked about in the same tones people used to use when talking about Zeus or Adonis. It was just two local capes, nobodies really, beat a god. It was odd to see the way people talked about it.

'Not awed,' her power supplied. 'Shadow Stalker, Skitter, too real, too human for awe. Already considering how they might be the next Endbringer killer.'

It was ridiculous. It had to be luck or a fluke. Tattletale cared about Skitter, the poor girl was always one to get in to deep and somehow had just enough to make her attempts not to drown seem like expert swiming, and Shadow Stalker was just another thug with a badge. They weren't the kind to be able to wipe out something that could kill cities.

And yet, they did. Two minor nobodies from some nowhere city did what armies of capes couldn't before them. In that moment Lisa could almost see how the next part would play out. Taylor would go public about trying to be a hero, no way do the PRT not try to jump on her PR. She'll tell them about Dinah, the Undersiders, Coil. The full force of the Triumvirate would come down on him to show the world how much they trusted her. A week maybe two at most and Dinah would be back home, Coil would either be dead or in the 'Cage and the others, if they survive today, will either need to make themselves scarce or be hauled off to one Prison or another. Lisa took pride in being smart, smarter than anyone, and part of that was knowing a losing game before it was too late to fold. She could skip easy enough, in the chaos that follows an Endbringer attack she wouldn't be missed. She had plans, when Coil first brought her in to make a run for it, but as soon as she could she didn't want to, not without making sure Coil wouldn't follow. Now though, she could leave that to the new Endbringer slayer.

Maybe after everything settled down she'd get in touch with Taylor, girl could likely use a hug.


* * *

Armsmaster couldn't help the grunt of pain as the doctors helped to care for the remains of his arm. The worst was over they had assured him, the wound had been cleaned, and the bleeding stopped. Right now it was just a matter of insuring the bandages were in place. One of the healers would be by soon, depending on how bad the other triage tents had gotten. Still even without their diagnosis he knew it was unlikely that any would be able to reattach his arm. Already gears were turning in his mind, coming up with solutions, bionics or something like it. Ways to get him out there as soon as possible. The world had changed, and he wanted, no needed to be there to make sure that it didn't leave him in the dust.

He could at least take solace that he helped to change it. Between his early warning system and his Nanothornes he had a part in killing Leviathan. He needed to make sure that his part was well remembered. Even if he had to share with Sophia and Bug Girl. He would deal. Sophia of course would need to be watched, a moment like this would likely go far too much to her head. He knew nothing was so dangerous in a narcissistic sociopath like her than a boost to the ego. Bug Girl was another problem. He already informed Legend about her undercover scheme. It was likely after this she'd be joining the ranks of the Protectorate. She'd need watching too. Her attack on Lung, the stunt with the Charity Event, the girl's craving for glory often surpassed her ablity to deal with the aftermath. She too would need someone to reign her in. Though in truth Armsmaster doubted it would be needed. The girls were not likely to be let out on anything approaching danger again. The world needed them, and it needed them as symbols. The first priority would be to find out what they did and how they did it, and from there see if it could be done again.

If they were lucky they could create a weapon that would be able to do what those girls did today. Something to turn the tide against the monsters that had nearly driven the world to the brink. Someone would need to analyze all the data and understand all the angles. The girls would need guidance too, their lives were sure to become a quagmire of public opinion and politics. They'd need a mentor, a teacher to show them how the game was played. Luckily Armsmaster knew someone that could do both.


* * *

Taylor hated her life. That was by itself wasn't a new notion. It was almost a comfortable feeling, an assurance that she wouldn't get hurt. She had let herself forget that for awhile. Hanging out with the Undersiders, playing at being a villain, it may have been an act, but it was a fun act. That changed when she saw what they really were, and what they'd be a part of if they could justify it to themselves, and now with what happened today Taylor knew that it wasn't likely to be getting better. For all the pride she had about saving those people, saving all the people when she saw Leviathon fall as she threw the Halberd into his chest, as Shadow Stal-Sophia made it go through the outside of its shell and kill it, somehow, that all vanished when she saw who had helped her. Of all the people in the world that it could have been Taylor couldn't think of anyone worse than Sophia. It was something so awful Taylor almost laughed. Then the PRT started talking about press trips, training, studies. Spending days, or weeks or even months with no one but Sophia as company? Taylor almost thought she had died and this was her punishment for what she had done in the last few weeks.

It was somehow even worse than she thought though. When Sophia got over the shock of seeing Taylor's face Taylor had been expecting a familiar sneer or anger in her eyes. Instead it was something else entirely. Respect. Sophia respected Taylor now, and somehow that made Taylor's skin crawl worse than any of her bugs ever had. Still it wasn't so bad so long as she focused on the positives. She was a hero now. People said she was one of the greatest in the world. Alexandria herself came to Taylor's bedside to tell her how great she was. It was flattering and wonderful, but Taylor didn't feel like a great hero. Anyone could've and would've done what she had done. All she did was throw something because Sophia had dislocated her shoulder. Had the other girl been healthy she'd be the only one anyone would even think about. Taylor would be forgotten, just some footnote of a footnote. Forgotten and freindless as one of the worst people Taylor ever met got called the greatest hero in the world. She...didn't know if she could survive that really.

As it was Taylor didn't know how she was going to last the next few weeks, as she and Sophia were in the same hotels, buses, and had to play the united front for all the cameras. God she was going to be sick.


* * *

Sophia loved her life. She knew a lot of the weaker capes seemed to just fall apart after their trigger, they let it define them and break them. Sophia wasn't weak, and now she knew it for fact. She didn't let her trigger bring her down, didn't let the world try and shape her reality. She was the one that shaped the world. Ever since she dawned the mask her life had been like climbing a mountain. Hard work but every step was worth it. First she got to meet the hottest and coolest girl in town, managed to slip being thrown in the slammer for some stupid mistakes, and now? Now Sophia killed a god. Shit Eidolon couldn't pull that one off. Scion couldn't pull that off. She could though, and now the world was hers. It would bend over backwards to give her anything she wanted. She wanted a nicer house? They'd buy her one. She wanted Piggot out of her hair? They'd send that bitch to the ass end of the world. She could even tell them to send that Prisim girl over to her house in nothing but a silk robe and all they'd ask is what color she wanted the robe to be.

The only downside would be having to share the stage with Hebert and even that Sophia found...temperate? Not half bad. She didn't know where the little rabbit Hebert used to be went, but the wolf that was in its place was a welcome change. She figured it was like when they melted steel down to make it hard, put someone through enough hell and even a weakling has to become stronger or be totally destroyed. She helped break Hebert down until all the weak parts started to burn away. Until the girl could stand in front of a monster and not even flinch. So in a way she earned even more credit for killing Leviathain then, because without her Hebert wouldn't have been there anyway and no one would have killed the thing. Just more proof at how awesome Sophia was deep down. As if the world needed more. So she could deal with sharing the spotlight. They could play nice for the cameras, and if she looked as good as that suit suggested as it clung soaked to her, Sophia might even sound out playing nice away from the cameras too. If she had time.

Just a few months of boring talk shows and then she can go and shove another spear thingy right up Behemoth's ass or she'd get to nail the Simurgh right between the tits. Sophia let out a snort at her joke. She couldn't wait.

No More Goodbyes

(Автор: TheDivineDemon)

A relatively old snip I wrote on SV when Anzer'ke said he wanted Brain and Taylor having a long distance/jail relationship:


* * *

"Hebert, you have a visitor." Taylor blinked herself away from her book at the guard's words, confusion written on her face as she stood to follow him. Taylor didn't get many visitors, mostly her dad and her lawyer if anyone, and both had made their visits rather recently. So, understandably, she was cautious as she was led in to the visitation room.

"Booth 6" was all the guard said before taking his post at the back wall, leaving Taylor to show herself to her designated seat. What she saw there surprised her.

Sitting with a phone to his ear and only a sheet of glass separating them was Brian. His eye darted to hers as she came into view and a.... something tugged at his face. The best she could do to describe it was a frustrated smile. Taylor took her seat in a state of surprise induced shock.

"Brian?" Taylor said before realizing he couldn't hear her. Picking up the phone she said his name again, "Brian? What are you doing here?"

"To see you after you did... this." The boy said, waving his hand at their surroundings in frustration. "Why didn't you tell any of us you were going to do this?"

"'Cause you'd stop me?" She half stated, feeling a bit meek under his eyes and frustration. "I thought it would be best, for you guys and for... well, everyone."

"Yeah, and see where that got you?"

"Dinah said...." Taylor paused as a dark look clouded Brian's face.

"It's always Dinah, driving you to do stupid things." His voice was almost a growl, "You keep putting yourself in dangerous situations for a girl you don't even know. I get that she's a little girl, I get that she's a precog, what I don't get is how half the time you don't seem to care about yourself."

"It needed to be done." That was sentence she could say with no meekness, only steel. Dinah had needed to be saved and she needed, wanted, to co-operate with the PRT to take down a bigger threat. Was it wrong that she thought she should listen to the advice of one of the most powerful precogs on the planet?

"It was something you should have talked over with us, with me, first." Brian said hotly, "Did you think about how I would feel after hearing that you turned yourself in?"

"I... I thought I settled things."

"What? Those little talks you had with each of us? Did you really think that was enough?"

"I thought..."

"You didn't think!" He shouted, causing a number of the guards to tense and her the bugs she was trying to ignore to buzz wildly. "You just left. You didn't think how much it would hurt us. How worried we were when we saw Alexandria land at the PRT building. How much we'd miss you when you locked yourself away from us." He took the phone away from his mouth and leaned the device to his forehead as he pressed his lips together in emotion.

"Brian," She said softly.

"You should have talked to me, more than just that... check up you did. Told me what you were thinking so we could have planned something better, done something better. You can't just, just, decide to do things on your own. Not when it effects more than just you."

"I'm sorry." She said, feeling nearly as bad as she did when she first talked to her father after he found out who she really was.

"Just, no more goodbyes. Okay?" He asked as he laid his hand flat on the glass.

Taylor mirrored his action, her fingers scraping against the material and she wished desperately that it wasn't there. "Okay."

Speak As The Bees Do

(Автор: doomlord9)

Brian watches Taylor on the stage doing an absolutely fantastic job of shaking and bouncing her ass, the wet shirt clinging like a second skin to her butt and the back of her legs giving a teasing glimpse of smooth wet flesh before another movement pulls it away and it clings to another spot. How she can do so much with so little is a mystery but he appreciates her skill.

Turning to Lisa he asks "Ok, I thought you told us she was awkward and shy. When did she learn to dance like this in front of a crowd?"

Lisa snickers "She didn't, she can't dance to save her life."

Brian looks up at the stage and then back to Lisa, raising an eyebrow.

Lisa smirks "She can't dance but her powers do make her fluent in 'Bee'. The fact that when the waggle dance is translated to the human anatomy it very closely resembles a booty dance is just a coincidence."

Brian blinks and looks back at the stage "So she's..."

Lisa giggles "Rambling awkwardly about random things and getting more nervous the quieter it gets. She just got done with the weather and now she's talking about....Hey! Why that...she promised me that she wouldn't tell anyone about that!" Lisa forgets about Brian as she stalks up towards the stage in a snit, climbing up and glaring at the nervous Taylor before turning around and wiggling her butt in a specific pattern.

Taylor startles before nervously turning around *Wiggle? Wiggle wiggle bounce wiggle?*

Lisa replies *Wiggle! Wiggle bounce wiggle wiggle bounce bounce!*

Taylor's cheeks go pink *Wiggle. Wiggle bounce wiggle bounce wiggle wiggle?*

Lisa contemplates that before responding *Wiggle.....bounce wiggle bounce wiggle wiggle wiggle bounce!*

Brian just watches what is happening unable to believe what he is seeing while Alec asks "Are they....arguing?"

"Yes. Yes they are."

*bounce bounce wiggle bounce wiggle wiggle wiggle*

"Are they seriously arguing in public using a language that involves shaking their asses at each other?"

*wiggle bounce bounce bounce wiggle bounce wiggle wiggle*

Brian sighs, wondering why he became a thief and joined a gang of other thieves "Yes Alec, yes they are."

*wiggle bounce wiggle wiggle bounce wiggle rub rub*

Alec smirks, fiddling with his phone for abit before asking "Are they seriously rubbing their butts against each other as they get to the forgiveness part of their argument?"

Brian groans but doesn't take his eyes off the stage. Why didn't he decide to become an assassin instead? He would be good at that, just a quick block of darkness, a single bullet that nobody would hear, and he'd be several thousand dollars richer. Aisha would probably think it was cool... "Yes Alec, yes they are."

*rub wiggle bounce rub rub wiggle wiggle*

Alec barely keeps the glee out of his voice "Don't you wish your cock was between them right now?"

Brian absently responds "Yes Alec. Yes I do."

His eyes suddenly go wide he registers what he just said and turns to Alec just in time to see him hit a button "Aaaaand uploaded to a protected server!" Alec grins as he hits play, giving Brian a quick soundbite of the last few seconds and making him do an admirable job of going bone white despite how dark his skin is.

Alec chuckles evilly as he slips his phone into his pocket "I think I'll just save that one for a rainy day. Oh look, I think they're finishing up."

*wiggle bounce wiggle wiggle rub rub rub bounce wiggle*


* * *

Vista watches her future competition from her spot high on a roof, narrowing her eyes as space twist to act as a spyglass and watching the two villains take first place with their 'duet'.

'Soon....just a few more years and I'll show them what Shaker 12 really means.....'

Taylor The Maid

(Автор: aoirann)

*Knock Knock Knock*.... *Knock Knock Knock*.......... *Knock Knock Knock*

"VICKY GET THE DOOR!" Amy shouted.

"YOU GET IT! YOU'RE CLOSER!" Was the reply from her sister.

"YOU CAN FLY! YOU CAN LITERALLY FLY!" Amy angerily shouted back.

"YOU'RE CLOSER!" Was all she got back.

"stupid lazy older sister, why do I even have a crush on her" *grumble grumble grumble* Amy stomped towards the door angrily mumbling to herself. She flings open the door.

"YESssssssssssssssssssssss?" She shouts and then trails off when she sees who's at the door. Amy blinks once, and then again, and for a third time before she realized she was in fact seeing what she was seeing. Standing in front of her was an honest-to-God maid. Her long dark wavy hair held in place by a lace hairband, with the right amount of bang being loose to move in the breeze. The red half-frame glasses she wore framed her face perfectly. Her makeup was perfect. Just a hint of lipstick and mascara. Nothing to draw attention but accented her looks. Her Maid uniform was low cut enough to offer just the hint of cleavage but if you blinked it was gone. Not helping matters was the black cloth corset she was wearing underneath it, which seems to emphasize her bust. Underneath that was a either a skirt made to act like an apron or an apron designed to act as a skirt. This ended exactly three inches above her knees, somehow being both provocative and professional. Amy's eyes trailed down as she noticed the strap from a garter belt leading down to silk stockings that came right to her knee. This created a little two inch gap of creamy white skin in between the stockings and skirt. Amy finally finished with her staring at her feet. She was wearing black three inch heels with little white ribbons on them. They both made her already long sexy legs even long and seemed to be perfect for housework. Eventually Amy was able to stop staring and look at the Maid in the face.

"Ca' ah' hep' oo'?" Was all Amy managed to get out before realizing her mouth was full of drool. She quickly wiped her mouth and swallowed. And tried again.

"Can I do-I mean help you?" Amy says, trying to ignore the slip of her tongue— Er slip of the tongue. At that the Maid just hands her a newspaper with something circled on it. Amy slowly took it from her, scared that if she moved to fast the girl in front of her would disappear. Amy tore her eyes from the maid to look at newspaper.

Amy started to read aloud "Wanted: Live-in Maid for New Wave household. Must be willing to risk life and limb to protect family from any threats, clean the household each day, cook three meals a day, and laundry. Requirements are being able to be look professional while still being sexy, under the age of 30, attractive, fit," At that Amy glanced at the Maid's legs again and lingered there before turning back towards the paper, " and willing to wear a Japanese maid outfit. Being able to speak Japanese optional but encouraged. Please inquire at the Dallon Household at 5:55 the 5th of May 2010. All other applicants before or after will not be accepted." Amy glances at the clock at notices it is in fact 5:55. She then glances at the paper and sees that it's somehow tomorrow's paper. She looks back at the Maid, who is smiling, back to the paper's date, to the ad, and to the clock which still read 5:55 despite it being easily more than a minute.

"VICKY!? DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT A CLASSIFIED FOR A LIVE-IN MAID IN THE PAPER!? " Amy shouted back inside.

"YEAH? IT'S SUPPOSE TO RUN TOMORROW AS A JOKE! WHY?" Was shouted back.

"BECAUSE WE GOT AN APPLICANT FOR IT!?" Amy shouted back."

"WHAT!? THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"

"LOOK JUST GET DOWN HERE!" Amy shouted back losing her patience. The sounds of thumping and cursing were heard upstairs. After 30 seconds a hastily dress Victoria hovered at the front door. She stared at the Maid, to tomorrow's paper, to the ad she ran, and at Amy.

"How? Besides it's past 5:55-" Amy tapped her on the shoulder and pointed at the clock. 5:55 it still read. Victoria whipped out her cell phone which said the same thing. Amy also got her's out which also said the same thing. The two of them looked at each other and then back at the Maid who just smiled. However they could tell there was a little bit of smugness to that smile.

"Oooookkkkaayyyy. Other than being Mary freaking Poppins, do you have any other qualifications for the job?" Victoria said, trying to find anything to get her out of having to hired the mysterious maid in front of them.

"<Well I do speak Japanese as said in the Ad. However I doubt you can even tell that this is in fact Japanese.>" The maid said in a perfect Kyoto accent. The two Dallon sisters blinked at that as well.

"Huh....." Was all Victoria could say. "Well I suppose a trial run is in order. She then heads inside and makes a motion for Amy and the Maid to follow her. They do and wind up in the kitchen. Sitting in the sink, the counter, stove, and table were piles upon piles of dishes.

"We've been very busy these past few.... months....." Victoria trailed off realizing how weak that excuse sounded. "If you can clean all of these dishes you're hired!" She exclaims and floats out of the room. The Maid nods to herself and heads over to the sink. Amy quickly follows Victoria out.

"What the hell Vicky? You can't expect her to do all those dishes! Some of them have been from three months ago. I'm pretty sure a few of them have mold didn't exist before!" She yells at Vicky over the sound of dishes, glasses, pots and pans being washed.

"Look I didn't realize that someone would actually show up. And what she did was bullshit too! How was it 5:55 for at least 10 minutes?" Vicky also shouted back.

"Exactly! Why are you jerking around the maid who I'm pretty sure is some sort of breaker! I mean she had tomorrow's Newspaper! And if I remember our 5th grade field trip correctly those don't get done printing until 11:00 pm today!" Amy yelled back again.

"Look I figure with how bad the kitchen is it'll scare off anyone! The housekeeping companies make us hire 10 people whenever it gets that bad!" Vicky shouted in the now quiet room. They both noticed the quiet and the fact they couldn't hear dishes being cleaned anymore. The two of them slowly leaned into the kitchen to see why that is. They found the Maid with a washcloth drying off the counters. There wasn't a single dish to be found or any stain, crumb, mysterious liquid, or any such thing. In fact they don't think they've ever seen the kitchen so clean before. In fact they were pretty sure that somehow there was a new coat of paint on the walls. Amy experimentally touched the wall and found that the paint was just at the very very end of drying. She did in fact added a new coat of paint. And despite all that there wasn't a single speck of dust, paint, water, or anything on the maid's clothes. In fact not a single hair was out of place nor was she even breathing heavily. Victoria looked at Amy with a vain hope that she had someway to get out of it. Amy gave her a look that said "You're on your own here." Victoria slumped in defeat.

"You're hired." She said with the the tone of voice of a person resigned to their fate. The maid beamed at that and put the washcloth....Somewhere.

"Can we get your name at least?" Amy said rather deadpanned.

"Taylor." The now named Taylor said matter of factly while pulling out a feather duster.


* * *

Amy paused outside the door to the family room, listening to Taylor talk to her father.

"Please don't be difficult, Master Mark," she said. "Mistress Carol was very clear about making sure you receive your medication."

"I'll get it later." Came her father's mumbled reply.

"Mistress Carol was very clear," Taylor repeated.

There was a moment of silence, and then the sound of someone rattling the pill bottle menacingly.

Taylor's voice carried out to Amy, silky sweet as always. "You won't make this difficult for me, will you?"

Amy froze where she stood, her mind already sweeping into images of Taylor bearing down on Mark Dallon.

Of course, Taylor would be in her maid outfit. The same outfit that was completely formal and demure, but in Amy's mind, somehow managed to accentuate Taylor's bust, hips, and magnificently long legs. Taylor would put one foot up on the couch, towering over Mark. He would look to the side, eyes sweeping up the long, white-stocking-clad length of her leg, just barely catching a glimpse of the edge of her garter belt from the angle he sat at.

"Will I have to force you?" Taylor would say.

And Mark would reply, all stubbornness, "You couldn't if you tried."

And then Taylor would open the pill bottle and shake two pills onto her sleek white silk gloves. She'd stick out her little pink tongue and place the pills there, doing it so Mark could watch.

"How's this?" Taylor would say. And then she'd lean in and press her tongue into his mouth, the brief contact stretching out as the kiss magnified, becoming deeper and longer. Taylor would pull back panting, a single wisp of black hair escaping from under her cap.

"Another dose?" She'd ask.

Mark wouldn't answer. He'd just pull her into his lap and wrap his arms around her. Only then, he'd stop.

"I think someone else needs some tender care," he'd say. And then the door would swing open, and there, standing silhouetted in the frame would be her, Amy Dallon!

"Medical care is my duty," she'd purr. "I think you need to be punished for overstepping your boundaries, Taylor."

Taylor would turn in Mark's lap and spread her legs, tugging her ruffled skirt up to just the edge of decency.

"Come and discipline me then," Taylor would whisper.

Amy would undo the zipper on her robe and let it fall, exposing her bare body beneath. She'd stride forward, rolling her hips as she went, closing in on the goddess before her and—

"Miss Amy?"

She jumped, letting out a high pitched shriek.

Taylor was looking at her with concern. "Are you alright? Your nose is bleeding."

Amy stumbled backward, holding out her hands to ward Taylor away.

"I— I just need to— I need to go!"

"Nonsense," Taylor said. She pressed the back of her hand to Amy's head. "Why, you feel positively feverish. Why don't I put you to bed?"

Amy fainted.

Lily / Taylor Shardswap

(Автор: Subrosian_Smithy)

Taylor laughed eagerly as she continued her work. She'd arrived in the middle of a pitched battle between the ABB, and the E88, but her fears had been for naught as she'd dealt with the capes with ease. Both Lung and Hookwolf had been handily bisected, and were now too busy regrowing their missing halves to try and escalate. The other two E88 capes were already ensnared by her wires, and Taylor pulled them taut, ignoring the panicked cries of Rune and Night.

"..."

"Wait, we're alive?"

Taylor grinned. "I've got a little more control then I seem, eh?" Taylor pulled the wires tighter again, shutting down on her power before she cut their skin. Shredded costumes slid off of her victims.

"Hey!" Rune spat. "You fucking pervert-"

"Now, what should I do now?" Taylor mused. "I could leave you tied up here, in the nude for all to see. Or maybe I should take you back home, and deal with you there~"

Night whimpered.


* * *

Meanwhile, another cape was not nearly having as much fun with her power.

"This sucks!" Lily groused. "I'm a lesbian submissive with the power to dominate everything!

Clit Penis

(Автор: vyor)

Taylor was feeling really good right now. Really good. She wasn't quite sure how it got to this point, but she didn't care at the moment. What she did care about was the pleasure jolting through her body every time Amy bounced on the extremely engorged clit that currently resided in between her legs, and inside Amy's slit. She also cared about the way Amy's breasts bounced slightly as the rest of her did the same, and about the moans coming from her throat as she used Taylor to get herself off.

But what she cared most about was how Amy was preventing her from having an orgasm. She was going to go crazy if this kept up much longer. Not allowed to thrust, not allowed to caress or grope, not even allowed to cum, she was being forced to act as a glorified dildo. Pure torture... and she loved every second of it.

"Amy! Please, let me-" Amy cut her off with a kiss and stopped all other movement.

"What was that? Please stop? Well if you insist..." Her voice was low, almost silent, but as she whispered into Taylor's ear, so close that her breath tickled it, she thought that they were the worst, most ominus words ever spoken.

She giggled at Taylor's whimper, then she started to pull away.

"No! Please don't stop!"

Amy had most of the clit out of her by that point, only the tip remained.

"Hmm, well, if you insist."

At that she slammed herself down, tearing a scream from Taylor's throat and a moan from her own.

"Don't worry, I'm almost at my limit."

Taylor could only whimper, writhe, and moan as Amy picked up the pace. Faster and faster she went, not bothering to draw it out even longer.

Then Amy started to tremble.

"Cum with me pet!"

Amy kissed her before she could start to scream in sweet release, muffling it with her mouth.

They rode out the dual orgasm as Amy forced her to remain conscious with her power.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Taylor could say anything to that, so she didn't, she just kissed the girl who gave her such pleasure.

"I think I need to lie down somewhere..."

"Well... we're on a nice bed right now."

"Oh... ya, we are. I think I'm just going to go to sleep now."

"I'll join you..."

They didn't wake up until noon the next day.

Anemone

(Автор: truebeasts)

So I wrote another installment of that Amy/Ingenue snippet that you liked. It's slightly weirder in terms of power usage — clearly Amy has been reading more Octavia Butler than is strictly good for her.

Previously:

Ingenue asked for a favor (not porn): http://archiveofourown.org/works/3210152

Ingenue failed to choose an appropriate outfit (irredeemable smut):

http://forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/worm-ideas-thread.429/page-274#post-379329


* * *

She was in the same room, this time. She'd — she'd cut the tracker out of her arm, but they'd simply put it back in — she'd hated it the last time, and this time was barely better. Not that she was technically a prisoner, not now. She had free run of the Wardens' base, even if the heroes did pointedly pause their conversations and cover up their written work when she came near. Even if all of the unpowered workers looked at her nervously, despite the draw she knew she had on them (and really, why should they be afraid of her? With them, after all, she could only work the normal sorts of sadism). She had her own phone, even if it had come programmed with some byzantine firewall to keep her from making off-world calls. They weren't tracking her movements when she left the base. Or, at least — and Ingenue suspected that this was the real explanation — at least Dragon was too polite to put her drones where Ingenue could see them.

It was funny, the way her memories overlapped each other. Things felt stretched, attenuated. She couldn't quite remember what it had felt like to long for Chevalier, but she walked into her room — the painted screen in the corner, the pin-up girls on the walls, the makeup and perfume on the vanity — and the claustrophobia closed around her like a vice.

Too like the Birdcage, maybe. Hundreds of capes just beyond her door, close enough to touch, and she couldn't do anything with them. On the first day she'd taken the whole room apart. Mattress pulled off of the bed, pictures torn down, cosmetics opened and thrown aside. She'd had the idea that she was looking for cameras, and then she hadn't been able to stop. Her strength was more than human strength now, thanks to Amelia, and she'd heaved the vanity onto its side and put her fist through the wall behind it. Sunk down to the floor, panting. The next day she found that someone had pointedly increased her sessions with the Wardens' therapist to three times a week.

Which was still less frequently than Amelia was going.

Ingenue stepped out of her bedroom. No need to lock it — the door's lock was keyed to her fingerprint. Of course Dragon could override that, in the unlikely eventuality that she didn't already know what Ingenue was doing in her room.

The fact was that they didn't know exactly what Ingenue's power did, now. It certainly still did something — she could feel it when she used it, the doubling of her vision and the acid sting of Amelia's power shaping itself around her, a physical pressure as much as a mental one, the weight and the vertigo and the rush of it. Different than it had been. It probably wasn't going to make her crazy. But it wasn't like the Wardens would let her test it on anyone else (she wasn't supposed to be using it with Amelia either), even if Ingenue had proposed that with the right preparation, Amelia could simply reset their brains when they were done.

For some reason, they hadn't found that encouraging. Oh well.

They hadn't tried to stop her from seeing Amelia, yet, though. Maybe they thought the girl was more likely to be a danger if she was kept away from what she wanted. Maybe they wanted her power enough to take the chance.

Which was why Ingenue was hovering outside of the therapist's door, full of restless, nervous energy. She flicked the brass plaque — Jessica Yamada — with one fingernail. Looked at her phone. It was seven minutes after one, which meant that the session had gone seven minutes over, and also Ingenue was going to scream with boredom and claustrophobia.

The feeling inside her head was a dark wave full of — trash, detritus, a wall of dirty water rising up to sweep her thoughts away. It was a living monster that was growing too fat to fit into her skull. It was — out, vile spot, oh, that was almost funny, it was an itch, a swollen tick somewhere inside her, and it grew in her consciousness until she was ready to take herself apart to get it out.

There was a breathing exercise she was supposed to do when she felt like this. She was supposed to relax her muscles, open her mind, imagine herself someplace else. It wasn't helping. She felt like her skin was shrinking, suffocating her.

The door finally opened, and Amelia stepped out. Her eyes met Ingenue's, and she shot her a small smile as she turned back to say goodbye to the woman, Yamada. Then the door clicked shut, and Ingenue had her hand around Amelia's wrist and was dragging her down the hall to the women's bathroom, locking the door with a click. The overhead light, linked to a motion sensor, burst into life with a soft hum.

"What — ?" Amelia's question cut off with a squeak as Ingenue pushed her back against the door and kissed her, pinning her arms above her head. Ingenue could feel the fragile bones in her hands and the pressure of her teeth against her tongue and the way her power sparked and flared under Ingenue's touch, fur and feathers and scales and blood and slick skin, that sting that traveled like lightning from her fingertips to the point at the back of her head where her spine joined her skull. She focused on the sting, the kiss, forced the other vast black thing that was curled up in her head to move to make room for it.

When she pulled back, Amelia was gasping, her eyes a little unfocused.

"I need you to fix me," Ingenue said. "Now. It's..." She made a vague gesture in the vicinity of her head, trying to find the words for the fat snake of claustrophobia moving down her spine.

"It's a really bad mood," she finished, lamely.

Amelia took her hand and let her breath out through her teeth with a hiss.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize when you grabbed me..."

"It's fine. Do you want my help?" Easier to lean into the darkness when she knew it was going to go away in a moment or two. She breathed out. Amelia nodded.

Ingenue felt Amy's power brighten under her touch, flare and fade like phosphorescence, and for a moment the extraordinary machine of her own body was laid out before her inner eye, a network of infinite complexity, pulsingly alive. Then the vision faded and she was left with the throbbing pressure of Amy's power under her hands, lightheaded, her mouth suddenly wet, her heartbeat in her throat. She felt it as her power moved through her, like the soft pressure of hands on her head. Inside her head. She couldn't affect the outcome, but she could see the flare and fade where Amelia touched her. Could feel the tightness in her skull easing away.

She sighed and leaned against the door, her arm pillowed on her forehead.

"Thanks. That's better." She closed her eyes for a moment.

Before, those black moods had welled up when she didn't use her power, or when she lost access to someone who'd been under her control. Now, she never quite knew when they were going to come on, the pressure, the sudden certainty that she was going to die if it didn't stop.

"I think I fixed it," Amelia murmured. "I'm kind of afraid to keep fiddling with it, though. I get more control when you help, I can see a little bit more around the shard, but it's like...painting, not science. I see it the way you would, I think, and I'm afraid that I'm fucking it up in some way I won't notice until it's too late to fix."

Ingenue smiled, looping her arm around Amelia's waist, her shoulders pressed against the door.

"You know, it could be interesting. Wipe my mind or turn me crazy, I bet they'd stop bothering to make you go to therapy." It was impossible to be worried when she felt so languidly pleasant, so suddenly.

Amelia's scandalized laugh was close enough that Ingenue felt the puff of her breath against her cheek.

"Bitch," Amy murmured. But she was biting her lips over a smile.

"Whore."

"Slut."

"Psycho."

Amelia huffed. "I don't mind going to therapy, you know. It's okay."

Ingenue rolled her eyes.

"I don't want to talk about therapy, Amy. I talk about therapy enough while I'm in therapy."

"Yeah, Yamada let slip that you aren't exactly cooperative." She narrowed her eyes. "Also, don't think I didn't hear that."

Ingenue smiled, looked straight into her eyes.

"Amy. Don't you want me to make it up to you?" She lowered her voice to a purr. "You know I appreciate you taking time out of your day to rewire my brain..."

With her right arm still hooked around Amelia's waist, she pulled her closer and unbuttoned the girl's jeans with her free hand, dipped her fingers just below her waistband and ran them over the jutting bones of Amelia's hips. Amelia's eyes tracked her hand, and then she looked away, at the sterile white fixtures of the bathroom, the glowing red eye of the motion sensor over the sink. She bit her lip, and her eyes flicked shut.

With the hand that wasn't playing with the waistband of Amelia's underwear, Ingenue grasped a fistful of the girl's short hair and pulled, lightly.

"Or maybe you don't want repayment, exactly?" she murmured. "Because if you want me to top, all you have to do is say so."

The sterile overhead light caught Amelia's flush just fine. She made a noncommittal noise, pushed her hips back against Ingenue's hand, and Ingenue leaned in, kissed the line of her jaw, whispered in her ear.

"I am going to make you say it, though. Out loud, like a slut. Because we both know that the blushing virgin act is a front. So tell me what you are."

Silence, and Amelia gave another little gasp as Ingenue slipped two fingers into her underwear, found the cotton slick to the touch, her labia already slippery.

"If you can't ask for it, you can't have it, Amelia," she said. "Amy. Tell me what you are."

"I'm a whore." Her voice was breathless, the words a little rushed, and Ingenue could see her blush deepening, the way her breath caught a little when she exhaled. She looked into Ingenue's eyes, then, and suddenly her voice was level and confident. "I'm your whore."

She barely finished speaking before Ingenue felt the beginning of the change. Pressure in her throat, and a strange tickling in her mouth, under her tongue. She dragged her hand out of Amy's pants, knotted it in her hair, and when she opened her mouth to kiss her, she felt the pressure spill out. A thicket of sensory tendrils, like a sea anemone's, red and translucent, unfurling over her lips, pushing up from the inside of her throat. They seemed to be elastic, uncurling until they occupied a space much larger than the inside of her mouth, tangling and wrapping around each other. It felt as if they should have blocked her breathing, but they didn't. Instead she concentrated and a ripple went through them, languidly, as if she was underwater.

She felt the tendrils brush Amelia's face, felt some latent impulse in them — sting, her body told her, silently — but that she could test later. She pressed her lips to Amy's, tongue and tentacles swarming into her open mouth, down her throat. She could feel Amelia's chest heave as she gasped, trying to breathe through the kiss, and Ingenue's other tendrils — could she open her mouth this wide, normally? — were caressing her face and curling around the back of her head to pull her hair. They adhered, lightly, where they touched Amelia's skin, as if they were putting down roots, and where they touched her, Ingenue could taste-smell-feel the shivers running down Amy's spine, the vibration of the noises she was making it her throat. She pressed her knee up between Amy's legs, pulling her shirt up over her plain black bra, and felt something else starting between her own legs, a squirming pressure against the slippery silk of her panties.

She could see Amelia's power flickering, pushing at the boundary of skin between itself and Ingenue. She pulled half-way back from the kiss, her tendrils still gripping Amelia's face, lips nearly brushing hers.

"If you keep making adjustments, Amy, I'm going to feel like I'm not holding your attention."

By rights the tendrils forcing her lips apart should have kept her from speaking, but instead the words came up doubled, echoing, a humming chorus that seemed to emerge from somewhere deep in her chest and vibrate through each of her sensory tentacles. She was doing something with the ones in her throat to articulate the sounds, probably, but she couldn't have described exactly what.

Amelia, on the other hand, certainly couldn't talk, with Ingenue's tendrils still filling the inside of her mouth, stroking her lips, sucking her tongue. Her eyes widened, and she made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a moan, and Ingenue lifted her up by the back of her knees and used the weight of her hips to pin the girl against the bathroom door. She could feel the blood pounding in her head, the impulse to laugh, the way the second set of sensory tentacles were twisting inside her panties, each like another writhing clit, curling backwards to stretch open the mouth of her cunt, no, there were more coming from inside her, and Jesus Christ she was going to get herself off before she even got around to having Amelia touch her.

She pulled Amelia's head back, let the tendrils in her mouth swarm over her neck, kissing, tightening around her throat just enough to make her gasp. The thin tentacles were sensitive — she could feel the pulse in Amelia's throat almost as potently as if she'd put a vibrator to her clit. She had one hand under Amelia's hips, supporting her weight, and now she slipped the other back down Amelia's pants and curled her fingers up under her pelvis, fucking her with her hand.

"Shall I see what other gifts you've given me, Amy?" Ingenue murmured in her new, buzzing, echoing voice. "Because I think there's something else that I can do with these..."

Amelia whimpered, bucked her hips back against Ingenue's hand, her legs wrapped tight around Ingenue's waist, her hands tensing on her shoulders, taut with effort.

"You need to use words, Amy. Or you don't get what you want." She could feel the vibration of her voice buzzing on Amelia's skin, and she laughed lightly into her neck, pressing her legs together over her own arousal.

"Please, Ingenue," Amy whispered, her voice tight. "Please, please, please."

"Good girl," Ingenue purred, and then she released some impulse in her unfamiliar limbs and triggered her sting.

She felt the tips of her tendrils sink into Amy's skin, and then there was a starburst of something like electricity, a lightning-fast uncoiling, and Amelia arced back against her, a bow bent to snapping, and made a sobbing, strangled noise, her cunt pulsing around Ingenue's hand. When the tension ran out of her, she was limp, and Ingenue loosened her grip on her hips and dumped her unceremoniously on the floor, where Amy braced herself on her hands and knees, panting.

Ingenue wrapped her fingers in Amelia's short hair and pulled her head back until the girl was looking into her eyes.

"Slut." She slapped her, once, not too hard, and Amy looked at the floor. "I did not say that you could come before me."

"I'm sorry."

Ingenue smiled and stroked her hair, and Amelia leaned into her hand.

"I forgive you, Amy. But you have to make it up to me."

She reached up and unzipped her dress, let it fall to the floor. Underneath it, she was wearing cream and crimson silk, her bra cut low so that her breasts swelled out above it. She unclipped the straps that held up her stockings and slid her panties off, felt her vulva open up like a flower, a hundred anemone tendrils reaching out, pressing her open so that she gasped before she'd even touched Amelia. With her hands wrapped in the girl's hair, she pulled her face in, roughly, and Amelia opened her mouth without resistance and licked her where she was wet, her tongue working along the length of her tentacles as Ingenue let them crowd into her mouth, forcing her straining jaw wider.

She was gasping already, slippery wet, the pressure of Amelia's tongue clumsy as she fought to breath, as Ingenue pulled her hair and controlled the movement of her head, rolling her own hips in so that she was fucking Amelia's face, her throat. Each tendril seemed impossibly sensitive, and they squirmed together, braiding themselves into a thick knot. She spread her legs wider, dragged Amelia forward so that the girl was kneeling directly under her, her neck craning back to take Ingenue into her mouth. She stung her again, not with every tentacle this time, but with one, then two, and she could feel the vibration of Amy's whimper run through her own flesh. So close, slippery and squirming, and it felt like she was going to devour her, force her open from the inside. Amelia was gasping and whimpering around the pressure of her, her tongue working uselessly, still trying to lick, to suck — "Good girl," Ingenue murmured, voice tight, "good girl, you're trying so hard..." — and she was shaking, with her own hands down her pants, and Ingenue was shaking now, too, straining towards her, hips working faster, erratic, and then she tightened and shivered and came. Amelia coughed and gasped as she pulled out of her mouth, reached up to wipe the spit and Ingenue's own wetness off of her chin.

"Can I," Amy murmured, broke off to cough again. "Can we — ?"

"Oh, you're not done?" She'd pulled her upper tendrils back inside her mouth, but she found that even with them retracted, her voice had that same doubled humming quality. Amelia squirmed.

"You want me to fuck you, now? Is that it?"

Amelia nodded.

"Get up, then."

She stood unsteadily, her legs still wobbly, reaching for the sink to brace herself. Ingenue pushed her head down, roughly, so that Amelia was bent over the sink, braced on her elbows, then hooked her left foot with one of her heels and dragged her legs apart. She ran her hand up Amelia's thigh, cupped her crotch over her jeans.

"I want you to tell me how wet you are for me."

Amelia shifted under her touch, lowered her head.

"I'm wet. Really wet."

Ingenue laughed.

"Try harder, Amelia. You can do better than that."

"Fuck." She whimpered as Ingenue dragged her jeans down over her ass, ran one finger up the back of her naked thigh and over the slim curve of her hip. "I'm trying, I just — I want you to fuck me. I want it so badly I can't think. Please."

"Again." She touched her where she was slick, ran her finger down the pink of her labia to the soft pale fuzz of her pubic hair. Her tendrils were on Amelia's thighs, now, a nacreous, shimmery blood red against the paleness of her skin.

"Please fuck me, use me up, I just want to be yours..." Her voice was tight, almost a sob, and then she tensed and arched up into a gasp as Ingenue stung her, again, on the inside of her thigh, her tentacles swarming to open her up and press inside her.

She was slippery, narrower than her mouth had been, but she stretched under Ingenue's pressure, bucking her hips back as Ingenue's tentacles squirmed inside of her, pressing up against the walls of her cunt, the slick nubbly place just above her pubic bone, moving over her labia like a hundred little kisses to wrap around her clit. She started moving slowly, not so much fucking her as grinding up against her, letting her tendrils do the work, her hands tugging on Amelia's hair, pulling her head up until she met Ingenue's eyes in the mirror. She triggered her sting again, felt her tendrils grip and fuse with Amy's cunt, felt Amy's shiver as if it was part of her own body. Her teeth in her lip, now, panting, hands gripping Amy's shoulders, slick with sweat, nails digging into her tattoos.

"Now," she said, "now." And Amy arched up under her, and Ingenue stung her, again, felt her tense, convulse with a cry and go limp. She yelped as Ingenue fucked her to her own climax, roughly, selfish, her hands digging into the skin of Amy's hips. She pulled back while she was still feeling her own shivers running through her, dragged Amy upright and turned her around and pressed her back against the sink with a kiss, her jeans around her ankles. She could feel the tendrils in her mouth retracting, shrinking, folding back into her familiar lips and tongue. The ones between her legs were melting away, likewise.

She pulled back from the kiss, grinning.

"Did you have fun?"

Amy sighed. "Jesus. Fuck yes." Then her eyes widened and she tensed. "Fuck, we're still in a public bathroom, what if someone's waiting..."

Ingenue laughed.

"I think they probably will have given up. You're not the quietest, you know."

"Fuck you." Amelia frowned at her, but it was an exaggerated expression. A pout, really. "Just because you couldn't wait long enough to go back to my room..."

But she was smiling before the end of the sentence, and then she was leaning in to kiss Ingenue again.

Specific Protagonist's Journey to Redemption

(Автор: GladiusLucix)

Specific Protagonist's Journey to Redemption, or, How Taylor Learned to Stop Worrying and Love ALL THE FETISHES (or at least most of them).


* * *

Part 1

I glared at my most recent visitor; the only person who had visited, other than my father. "What are you doing here, Madison?"

"I wanted to apologize," she said. "The last bit went too far, and I wanted to make sure you were okay and still enjoying things."

I stared, open-mouthed. "The last bit went too far?"

She nodded and continued. "I know Emma said she would be dealing with the aftercare after school, and that I needed to stay away to keep the immersion, but the locker was too much."

Aftercare? Immersion? "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Taylor," she said with a smile. "There's nothing wrong with enjoying humiliation play like that."

I finally realized what she was talking about. "You think I've been getting off on what you three have been doing for the past year and a half? Are you insane?"

"Well, maybe a bit of nymphomania, but nothing more than that. And Emma said you were into it when I confronted her about it a few weeks into freshman year."

I resisted the urge to facepalm. "So, let me get this straight," I said. "You were worried about me being bullied, and tried to talk to Emma about it. But she lied and said it made me horny, so you jumped right in."

Madison's shoulders drooped as I summed up her big mistake. "Yeah, that sounds about right." She sounded surprisingly upset about it, but then her spirits lifted just as quickly. "But that's okay, because I'm going to make it up to you. I spent a year and a half fulfilling the wrong fetish for you, so now I'm going to spend twice as long on the right ones!"

"Wait, what?"

"Don't worry, I'm really good at it. Just ask the Wards, or the younger members of New Wave. It's too bad that Triumph graduated to the Protectorate now. You know his shout thing? Well, he could also do a really low pitched hum that made it feel like you were getting eaten out by a vibrator." She went on like that, extolling the "virtues" of the various teenage heroes in the city, for a few minutes while my face grew more and more red. "But anyway, gimme a bit to call in some help."

Madison stepped to the far side of my hospital room as she pulled out her phone and called someone. "Hey, Vicky, it's Mads. I'm good, but I need yours and your sister's help, when you get some time. I screwed up, and I need to make things right. Can you meet me at Brockton Bay General? Six is good. See you then."


* * *

I was sitting in the mall food court with Madison, Vicky, and Amy — they insisted I use their civilian names out of costume — preparing to start me on the path to perversion. Dad had arrived at the hospital just as Madison was bringing Panacea in to heal me, so we were able to get the paperwork filled out and go home only a little while later, but not before Madison had explained to Dad what had happened and how she would be making it up to me. I didn't go to school the next day, but the day after Madison basically dragged me to Principal Blackwell's office and confessed her part of everything as well as explaining what Emma and Sophia had done.

Which had led to Sophia being sent to juvie, since she had apparently been on probation for something since last September. And with Madison now trying to be my friend, or something to that effect, Emma was mostly alone on the bullying front. The other girls might try to fill Madison's place, but with the trio broken up, Madison claimed, they would find other ways to prove their place in the social hierarchy.

"So," Madison began, "The first step in enjoying yourself is to appreciate your self. That's where Amy comes in."

I had assumed that the plan for today was just a shopping trip, but apparently Madison had other plans.

Amy nodded. "I understand it may be embarrassing, but I'd like you to tell me what you would change about your body," she said.

I sighed. "I'm flat, and too skinny. I look like a frog standing upright. The only feminine thing I have going for me is my hair."

"Alright," Amy said. "Just so you understand what I plan to do, my power works by moving around what's already in a person's body. Getting rid of a disease or closing a wound is simple. Turning one type of cell into another is rather easy, and moving body mass around takes time, but isn't really a challenge. Regrowing limbs is the hardest for me, since the body doesn't usually have too much extra calcium floating around, and I usually do that in stages of a little bit of bone growth at a time."

I thought about what she was saying. "What does that have to do with me liking or not liking what I look like?"

"Most people don't realize that I'm not limited to healing. I can change someone from male to female or vice versa. Theoretically, I could turn a person into a dog, or have their limbs fall off with a touch. There's a lot that I can do.

"What I'd like to do for you comes in two parts. First, I'll modify your body's hunger and fullness response, and make your gastrointestinal tract more efficient and more flexible. This way you'll be able to eat more, and gain more calories from what you're eating. Most of this will be stored as fat, so I'll have more material to work with for phase two. Then, once you've gained enough, I'll turn the first set of changes back to normal, and use the excess fat to give you the body shape you want."

"If we do this now, we could probably head down to Fugly Bob's, get a Challenger or two, and have this done before it's time for you to go home." Vicky added.

"What if I wanted to be taller?" I asked.

"It would probably be best to take some calcium supplements before I make the change," Amy said. "I'm not completely sure how much you would need, but if you take more of them one or two at a time before I change your digestive system back, it wouldn't be too hard to get your bones back to as strong as they were before."

"Okay." I took a deep breath and let it out. "I think I know what I want to do."

Greg's "Mind Control"

(Автор: Subrosian_Smithy)

"What the fuck is that!?" Sophia whimpered at the sight of Greg's kludged-together taser-pistol.

Greg rolled his eyes at the bitch who had made Taylor's life a living hell. He almost didn't want to dignify her with a response, but the opportunity to screw with her was too good to pass up. "It's a mind-control ray. I've already used it on you and your cronies, and now I'll activate the subconscious conditioning!" He twisted a bolt on the side of the pistol for effect.

"No! Please, no, don't rape me!"

"...uh, I didn't say anything about raping you."

A steady dripping noise began and Greg suddenly noticed that Sophia had gone from zero to sopping wet in the space of moments. "Oh, please, don't, anything but that!"

What the fuck.


* * *

Approximately seven hours of enthusiastic fucking and uncountable orgasms later, Greg finally collapsed to the bedspread, utterly spent. Taylor and the trio had already petered out and fallen asleep in a loose group hug. Knott and Blackwell were still pawing at each other over in the corner. The latest arrival to the orgy — a cute blonde girl with a smattering of freckles, who had come with Taylor — eagerly swallowed Greg's last release before curling up in bed next to him.

"I don't think they actually bought it, you know. I mean, a tinker-tech mind control ray? That was your story?"

Greg mulled it over before shrugging. "It was good enough for them."

Saving The World With Dubious Summons

(Автор: SamPardi)

Scion turned to silently regard the new existence. The form was idealized for the locals, but held both male and female features. Had it not studied the local culture thoroughly before manifesting itself?

[QUERY?]

[NEGATION. QUERY: PARTNER?]

[NEGATION. SORROW.]

[QUERY PURPOSE?]

[CONFUSION. EMPTINESS.]

The other was next to his avatar in a moment and then enveloped it with their arms. For the first time he felt something from his avatar and it felt... warm.

[PURPOSE! ENTERTAINMENT! ENJOYMENT!]

He contemplated the other's message.

[EXPERIMENT] He cautiously replied.

[EXPERIMENT!] It agreed. [PRIMARY! SPECIFICATIONS!]

Scion reviewed the avatar design sent. It would be of the opposite sex to his current avatar but such things didn't matter to the WARRIOR since it was beyond gender. Data input was also increased enormously, especially in touch. It was not sure it understood the purpose but it had agreed to experiment.

It made the necessary adjustments but was unprepared for the strength of the stimulus. The feel of the other's body, the wind against its skin, a small nip of the other's mouth against its neck. Involuntarily its avatar back arched and it screamed loud enough to shatter every window in the nearest 23.245698765 meters.

[PLEASURE!]

[CONTINUATION?]

[AGREEMENT!]


* * *

Taylor panted as the stranger in the fedora wiped the pussy juices away from her mouth. "And... And you're certain this will save the world?"

The woman nodded, "Mirror, incense, silk pillow spread, lesbian sex between an older woman and a fifteen year old girl. The ritual is correct, she has been summoned."

"And how exactly is summoning a hermaphroditic sex goddess supposed to save the world?" Taylor asked.

The woman grabbed a cell-phone from the pocket of her pants and quickly navigated to a video site. She turned the screen towards Taylor as the video started playing.

"Oh god! Is that Scion!? With a..." Taylor trailed off dumbfounded.

"I'll be going now. I bet Rebecca two years on a nude beach in the Bahamas if I could save the world before noon. I intend to collect." The woman told her. "Door me."

Family: Prologue

(Автор: Angush)

So I did a little bit of a prologue for the Taylor-and-Amy-as-step-sisters thing.

Fair warning, there's no sexy times, it's mostly meant to be a combination of sad and heartwarming. It's also a totally unedited brain dump, so there's almost definitely some inconsistencies and things I left unfinished. But whatever.

BTW, this takes place before the Brockton Bay Brigade went public, and it's (obviously) a slight AU in regards to Mark and Annette's deaths.


* * *

Part 1

I didn't know what to do.

The sun was setting now, headstones casting their long rectangular shadows onto the grass, still wet from the rain. A cheap imitation of tranquility, like someone had missed the memo. Graveyards weren't supposed to be sunny.

The gravestone itself was granite, smooth and clean-cut. The design was simple: a rectangle, gently rounded at the edges. Nothing fancy. They couldn't really afford it right now. Not that it mattered. He wouldn't have cared, anyway.

The inscription was just as simple. Mark Dallon. 1971 to 2003. Beloved father, husband, and son. Taken too soon. Etcetera. He wouldn't have cared about that, either.

That was sort of the point. He hadn't been meant to care. That was a known quantity. Something that had always been accounted for, right from the start.

His apathy was part of the plan. His death wasn't.

A sound escaped my lips.

The plan. Like there was one.

A hand dropped on my shoulder and squeezed, firm but gentle. I turned and looked at my sister. She looked back, but didn't say anything. I sighed, turning back to the gravestone.

We stood in silence for a while longer, her hand on my shoulder, a reminder that she'd always been the strong one. That I was never good enough.

"That's not true," Sarah said, her voice soft. I glanced back at her. Had I said that out loud? Damn. "Everyone has their moments of weakness. You know I have. There's no shame in that."

I looked back at the gravestone. "Where's Victoria?"

Sarah said nothing for a moment, then sighed. "She's with Amy." I flinched. I couldn't help it. "Neil's looking after them."

Silence.

"How is she?"

"They were asleep when I left. They shared Crystal's bed. She says they cried themselves to sleep."

"Hmm."

More silence.

"How are you holding up?" Sarah said.

"I should be with her," I said.

"You need to grieve, too."

"She's more important."

"No she isn't."

I looked at her again, my fists clenched hard. "How can you say that?"

Sarah sighed. "She has Amy. They'll support each other."

"I should be doing that!"

"You can't. Not the same way."

"I... What?"

"They're sisters, Carol." No they're not. "Yes, they are. They can cry on each other's shoulders. You have to be strong for them. You can't do that. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"You haven't cried."

"So? I didn't... I don't..." I trailed off. The fight left me, and I looked back at the gravestone.

Silence.

"I..." Dammit! "Did I ever tell you why I married him?"

"I guessed," Sarah said.

"But did I ever tell you?"

"No."

"He... he was safe," I said. "Easy. Something I could... control."

Sarah didn't speak.

"He never... started anything. He never wanted anything. He never argued. He always did what I told him to. I... He... Whenever we had sex, it was me. I initiated it. I was in control. It started when I said so, and it ended when I said so.

"I... I had everything planned out. He wasn't supposed to be a husband. He was supposed to be a tool. A means to an end. He gave us an edge in fights. He... he gave me Victoria. And that was it. T-that was all I wanted him for. I d-didn't love him. N-never. I — "

Sarah spun me around and wrapped me in her arms.

"Sa — W-what are you doing?"

"Hugging you, stupid," Sarah said. Her voice was shaky.

"W-why?" I raised my hands to her shoulders. "Y-you don't..."

"You're crying, Carol." She pulled back a bit and looked me in the eyes, tears streaming down her face.

"N-n-no I'm n-not," I said. Why was I stuttering? "W-why would I be c-crying? I d-don't..."

"It's okay, Carol."

"I — " I tried to stop my arms from trembling.

"It's just us here. Just you and me."

"I — I wasn't — "

"It's okay." She pulled me back into her embrace and squeezed hard, one hand pushing my head down into her neck, stroking my hair.

I wasn't supposed to love him.

"It's okay."

For the first time in fifteen years, I cried.


* * *

Sarah carried me to her house. She kept above the clouds for most of the way, so nobody could identify us, and floated through the window of her bedroom under cover of darkness.

She put me down, then left for a minute. When she came back, she lay down beside me and wrapped me in her arms again.

I don't remember falling asleep.


* * *

Sarah woke me the next morning with breakfast-in-bed. Bacon and eggs, with a glass of orange juice on the side. We ate together, and made an even bigger mess of her bed, but she didn't care.

"How are you feeling?" she asked when we'd finished, smiling softly and putting an arm around me.

"I'm fi — " I stopped myself. "I don't know. But I'm... It's better than it was yesterday."

Sarah squeezed my shoulder. "That's good." She stood and grinned mischieviously. "Now, what do you want to do today? Watch a movie? Or maybe go window shopping? Y'know, some good-old-fashioned sisterly bonding?"

I smiled. "Maybe some other time. I... I think I should go back."

Sarah's grin faded. "Are you sure?" she said. "You know you can stay here as long as you want."

"I know," I said. "But you were right, earlier. I have to be strong. For... for them."

"And you know you can call any time. I'll come. Always."

"I know."

Sarah looked at me for a moment, then nodded. "I'll get the girls, then."

"No," I said, grabbing her arm. "I'll do it." I walked past her, to the door, and stopped. I looked back at her. "And, uh... Sarah..."

"Yes?"

"I... Thank you," I said. It shouldn't have been so hard. "For everything."

Sarah smiled, and stepped forward to hug me again. "You're my sister, Carol. I'll do anything for you. I love you."

I smiled into her hair. "I love you, too."


* * *

We walked out into the kitchen, Sarah taking our dishes to the sink. Victoria and Amy were sitting at the dining table opposite Crystal and Eric, poking absently at their breakfast. I stopped behind them. Neil was attempting to entertain them with some story of his, but only Eric seemed to be paying attention. He stopped talking when he saw me.

"Victoria," I said. "Amy."

The girls turned to look at me. Their eyes were red and puffy, their hair messy and unkempt.

You have to be strong for them.

For them.

"Come here, girls," I said, kneeling down and spreading my arms. "We're going home."

They glanced at each other, then jumped off their chairs and ran into my arms, burying their faces in my chest.

I closed my arms around my daughters and hugged them tight.


* * *

Part 2

"Amy! Victoria!" I said, walking into Victoria's room and throwing open the curtains. I turned on my girls, hands on my hips and projecting an image of sternness — I hoped. "I told you to get up ten minutes ago."

They groaned and sat up, rubbing at their eyes and blinking away sleep. Amy had her own room, of course, but she'd been having bad dreams, and I still found her sharing Victoria's bed at least once a week. Victoria glared at the curtains. "Can't we sleep in?" she said.

"You've already slept in," I pointed out. "If you don't get up now, we'll be late for school, and I refuse to let you be late on the first day." Victoria opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "And before you ask: no, aunt Sarah can't fly you to school. She's not your personal airliner, and she still has a secret identity to worry about."

Victoria pouted, and Amy giggled. "But it's so much fun," Victoria said.

"I know, dear," I said, then clapped my hands together. "But you'll have to settle for the car. Now, up! Up! I made your lunches last night. Your uniforms have been ironed — don't expect that every day, either — and your bags are packed. All you need to do is get dressed, brush your teeth, and have breakfast. It's already down there, waiting for you."

Amy grinned at me. "Can we brush our teeth after breakfast?" she said. "It'll taste funny if we do it your way."

I smiled. "You can if you really want to, I suppose. So long as you do it now." I gestured upwards, and my girls climbed out of bed and trudged down the stairs, Victoria grumbling under her breath. They sat at the table and I served up the pancakes and the assorted toppings, gave them a time limit, and left them to eat.

I had to pack for myself, too.


* * *

Someone sat down next to me. "Hey, Carol."

I looked up from my sandwich. "Good morning, Alan."

Alan smiled, cracking open his own lunch — something in a paper bag emblazoned with the logo of the fast-food joint down the street. "Good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," I said. And it was — for the first time in my life, I'd taken a month's leave from work; after I'd gone to pick up the girls from school and found Amy in tears and Victoria in bruises, a few months into their fourth year, I knew I couldn't just leave them alone. So I'd been trying to give them the attention and support I knew they needed, but it was... hard.

As ashamed as I was to admit it... I had no idea how to be a parent. Especially not when work occupied so much of my time. So I'd taken a break, to be with my girls — at Sarah's suggestion, of course. I didn't know what I'd do without her.

Superheroing had... fallen at the wayside. Another first. But I just... I told myself I didn't have the time, which was true, but honestly? I didn't want to do it anymore. It was dangerous. It had never made me happy. And I wasn't convinced anything I did really mattered, not in the grand scheme of things; and I wasn't so sure Sarah's New Wave idea would actually change anything for the better.

Marquis was the only time I could say I'd made a difference, but if I were honest with myself, I hadn't gone after him as hard as I had because he was dangerous. He'd led the least egregious villain organisation in Brockton Bay; the effect he'd had on the city was minimal compared to Allfather or Galvanate — or even the Teeth, before they'd left.

No, I hadn't gone after Marquis to help people. I'd done it because I hated him. And that had almost gone horribly, horribly wrong. Donny and Neil had almost died. And I'd... I'd almost killed Amy, by accident. I hadn't been in any real danger myself, but that was only true because my opponent was Marquis. Any other villain wouldn't have hesitated to kill me, or any of the others.

And... as much as I hated to admit it, that scared me. If something happened to me, my girls would be alone.

I couldn't do that to them.

"How was your break?" Alan said. "The girls doing okay?"

"I think so. Amy's been having a lot of bad dreams lately, but... they're coping."

"And you?"

"I'm doing fine," I said. "It's been six months."

Alan raised an eyebrow. "And you were married for ten years."

"I..." I stopped, and sighed. "Balancing it all is the hardest part."

"Balancing what?"

"This. All of it. Work. Socialising. Keeping in shape. Not just... giving up. Supporting the girls — raising the girls."

"Harder to do it all alone?"

"I... don't know. I don't think it was any easier when he was alive, not really. It felt easier, but..." I sighed again. "I'm coping."

"Hmm." He pulled a pamphlet out of his pocket, and unfolded it in his hands. "I... Well, a friend of mine lost his wife not long ago. Eight months, almost. Car crash." He cleared his throat. "I've known him since college — both of them, actually. His daughter, Taylor, is friends with my Emma, and she's been spending a lot of time at our house since her mother passed. She basically lived with us the first two or three weeks. He's... never been good with grief. He took her back, of course, but she still comes `round every other week."

He blinked, then coughed into his fist. "Err, sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Point is, Zoe found this, uh, support group." He handed the pamphlet to me. "It's for single parents. Especially those who, uh... lost their partners. It's called Parents Moving Forward. She brought it up with him, and, uh... convinced him to go, to put it lightly. Beat him into going, to put it another way. He's been to three meetings, so far. They do one every fortnight, on Saturdays. At five o'clock. The next one is this weekend."

I glanced over the pamphlet. There was a cartoonish depiction of a woman holding hands with a small girl, both looking at a setting sun. Or a rising sun, I suppose. They were standing in a field of yellow flowers, maybe daisies or daffodils. The name, `Parents Moving Forward', was displayed in a bubbly font that curved above the sun. The back of the pamphlet had another cartoon portraying a man and a woman hugging platonically, accompanied by several paragraphs about how I wasn't alone and other people knew what I was going through and... so on so forth.

I looked up at Alan. "And you... want me to go to this?"

Alan pinched his chin. "Well, I think you should... consider it. And if you decide not to go, still keep it in mind. Danny — uh, that's my friend — says it's been helping him. He even got some tips on, uh, reconnecting with his daughter. She's eight, now, and she was always closest to her mother, so it hit her pretty hard. Uh, they let you bring someone with you, too, if you feel you need more support. You could take your sister, maybe. I don't know. Oh! They have a child-care service, too, so you can bring the girls. Maybe they'd make a few friends."

I nodded slowly, reading over the back of the pamphlet. "I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask," Alan said, breathing out heavily. "If you do go, my friend's name is Danny Hebert. I think you'd get along."


* * *

I debated with myself for the rest of the week. Should I go? Should I not? Why? I didn't like the idea. I was doing fine. I didn't need to... I don't know, to sit down in a circle and talk about my feelings with a bunch of strangers. How could that possibly help me? But still, a nagging part of my mind refused to let me actually discard the idea, and so I thought.

Friday arrived, and I hadn't made a decision yet. So, I sent my girls up to bed, and I did what I'd found myself doing a lot lately: I called my sister.

"You should go," she said as soon as I'd finished explaining to her, her voice muffled slightly by the phone's quiet buzzing; probably a result of dropping it one too many times.

"You think?" I said, sandwiching the phone between my ear and shoulder as I cleaned the dining table.

"Definitely," Sarah replied. There was a second of silence. "Do you not want to go?"

I scraped Victoria's leftover peas into the bin. I'm not sure why I even bothered; she never ate those. "I don't know," I sighed. "It's just... it sounds a bit too much like therapy. Only worse, because you're not even talking to a professional, just a bunch of random people."

Sarah laughed, but didn't say anything for a long moment. "When he died, you talked to me about it, remember? Actually talked about it?"

I nodded; there was only one `he' she could be referring to. Then, remembering she couldn't see me, I said, "I remember."

"Do you think that helped?"

"I... Yeah." I dumped the girls' plates in the sink. "Yeah, it helped."

"I'm glad," Sarah said. I could picture her smile. "But see, I didn't really know what you were going through. I still don't. I can barely begin to imagine what losing Neil would do to me. So I did what I could for you, but I couldn't do much."

"That's not — "

"No, shush," Sarah cut me off. "Let me finish, please. These people, the ones that you'd be meeting with... they know, right? They've lost someone too. They have kids too. They've been where you are. They actually know what you're going through. I don't; not really. And I think that would be good for you, to have people who understand, and that you can go to for advice."

I sighed. Again. "I guess you're right. But... I mean, I don't know any of these people."

"And you never will if you don't give them a chance," Sarah said. She sounded awfully self-satisfied. "Who knows? You might even make a friend."

"Maybe," I laughed, despite how sad that was. After all, I didn't really have any friends. Sarah was my best friend, but she was also my sister, so she didn't really count. Neil... I liked him, I approved of him; I even found him attractive — Sarah wouldn't be married to him if I didn't — but I didn't really think of him as a friend; he was just my sister's husband. The same applied to Donny and his girlfriend, Rebecca. Maybe Alan and Janice, from work? They could conceivably be called friends, I suppose, but I wasn't entirely sure.

And that was even more depressing.

"So you're going then?" Sarah said.

I smiled, though she couldn't see it. "Yes, Sarah. I'll go."

"Great! Okay, so what do you want to do about the girls? Use the child-care thing?"

"No," I said. "Maybe if I decide to keep going, I'll take them with me, but... not now."

"Okay," Sarah said. "We'll get Neil to look after them, then."

I went back to scrubbing the dishes. "That sounds fine. The meeting's at five, so I'll bring them over around... four?"

"Four's good. Don't worry about dropping them off, though. I'll pick you all up."

"You will?" I said, frowning. "What for?"

"Well, I'm going with you, obviously."

I paused.

"If that's okay, of course," she added.

"I... Yeah, that's fine. I was going to ask, actually. You just... surprised me. But yeah, I'd like to have you there."

"Great!" She sounded happy. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah," I said. "I'll see you tomorrow."


* * *

True to her word, Sarah picked us up around four. We dropped the girls off at her house, where Crystal greeted them excitedly — she was in middle school now, sixth grade, so she didn't see my girls as much. I said hello to Donny and Rebecca, who would be watching my girls with Neil, and we moved on to the meeting; I'd called the number on the pamphlet that morning to let them know we'd be coming, and they'd given me the address.

We pulled up at our destination, parking on the curb across the street. The meeting was being held in a church, which... didn't exactly fill me with confidence. There was a big marble cross on the steep, peaked roof, and slabs of stone embedded in the grass, forming a wavy path from the asphalt to the wide wooden double-doors. A sign taped to the door, just below the stained glass window, told me we were in the right place.

Sarah turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Ready?"

I took a deep breath. "Yeah," I said, and pushed the door open.

The inside was your typical church fare: long wooden benches in rows either side of the nave, with an altar at the end and aisles along the sides. There was nobody there; no priests or church-goers or anyone. Another support group sign sat just before the benches, pointing toward one of the side passages. I followed it along, leaving the main body of the church behind, Sarah trailing after me, our footsteps echoing about the empty halls.

At the end of the hall were two more signs; one pointed outside and read `Childcare' — I could hear kids out there, laughing and shouting — while the second anointed a door on my left, reading `Please knock!' I did so, and a few seconds later the door was opened by a stupidly beautiful latino woman.

It wasn't often I felt jealousy.

"Carol Dallon?" she said, brushing dark hair behind one ear. She didn't have an accent.

I nodded. "Yes, that's me." I gestured to Sarah. "And this is my sister, Sarah."

She smiled and held out a hand. I shook it, as did Sarah. "I'm Maria," she said, moving back so we could pass. "We spoke on the phone. Nice to meet you."

"Same to you," I said, entering the room with Sarah beside me. The room wasn't particularly large. There were tables pushed up against the walls, one lined with rows of various crackers and dips and other assorted snacks, a few jugs of water and plastic cups sitting off to one side. `Parents Moving Forward' was displayed in bright letters printed on one of those frilly string banners where each letter had its own little flag, hung across the back wall.

Maria ticked something off of a clipboard she was holding, then folded her hands over it and turned to us. "Would you like a drink?"

I shook my head, but Sarah accepted, and Maria fetched her a cup of water. Then she took us over to the middle of the room, where a group of other people sat in chairs arranged in a circle — exactly as I'd imagined. Four women, including Maria, and three men. A few of them smiled or raised a hand in greeting as we approached. Maria pulled up two padded chairs for Sarah and I, and we all took our seats.

"Jamie's not coming today," Maria said, putting her clipboard on the floor and looking around the assembly. "She says Jonas has a dentist appointment, so everyone who's coming is here, now. And we have a new attendee!" She smiled and turned to me. "Carol? Would you like to introduce yourself? Tell us a little about your situation? Just the basics is fine, we can get into details later."

"I..."

"It's alright if you don't want to," Maria said, folding her hands in her lap. "The others can introduce themselves first, if you'd prefer."

Sarah put her hand on my knee and squeezed gently.

"No," I said. "That's alright, I don't mind." Come on, Carol. This isn't court. You can do this. I looked around the room and raised one hand in a pitiful wave. "I'm Carol Dallon. I have two daughters in fourth grade, Amy and Victoria. My husband... he, uh... he died six months ago." The other attendees gave me sympathetic nods, and I turned to Sarah; I didn't want sympathy. I didn't know what I wanted, but sympathy wasn't it. "This is my sister, Sarah. A friend referred me here, but I haven't decided if I'll attend regularly yet." I glanced at Maria. "Is that okay?"

Maria smiled. "That's fine," she said. "Thank you for sharing, Carol." She looked around again. "Now, who'd like to start us off? Introduce yourself for Carol and tell us what's happened since our last meeting?" The woman on her left raised a hand, and the introductions began.

First was Faith, a forty-something African-American woman. Her husband had died of a nicked artery in a construction accident, leaving her with four teenage kids and an unpaid mortgage. She talked about how she'd just gotten a promotion at her work, and how her eldest had picked up a part-time after-school job to help out with his sisters, and everyone thanked her for sharing when she was done.

Next was a slightly overweight man named Charles, whose eyes were sunken and red. His girlfriend of twelve years had left him and their son a couple months ago to be with someone else — a member of some new gang called the Archer's Bridge Merchants, apparently. I'd never heard of them. He talked about her history of drug abuse and how his son was handling the situation, and confessed he'd relapsed on his own drinking problem. Maria and another man gave him some pointers on controlling addiction and referred him to a rehabilitation clinic and a babysitting service, in case he needed them, the others dispensing comforts all throughout.

Kenneth was a forty-something asian man whose husband had disappeared almost three years ago, without a trace. He hadn't been seen since, and it seemed the police had assumed him dead. Kenneth gave an update on his adopted twin sons, preparing for their final exams as high schoolers, and Maria and the others congratulated him on his progress — though I wasn't sure what they meant.

Ashlyn's husband had died protecting her and their four-year-old son from a drunk Empire thug who had been condemning her as a `race traitor.' Her and Charles' stories served as a stark reminder of the criminal infestation in Brockton Bay; the rampant violence and peddling of contraband that hardly seemed to slow no matter how many thugs the Brigade arrested.

And then there was Gracie: a direct counterpoint. A girl in her late teens with a one-year-old son, attending for the second time. She'd gotten knocked up in high school and married her baby daddy, who had then got himself killed robbing a jewellery store with a bunch of Empire goons.

Gracie's story made me uncomfortable. I knew, logically, that gang members and criminals — most of them, at least — were just normal people with families and jobs; hell, I'd taken Marquis away from his daughter and adopted her myself, and I'd seen him at his job while doing reconnaissance. Usually I managed to ignore that aspect of their lives, and usually doing so was easy. They made their own beds, it was only fair that they lie in it.

But listening to Gracie's story; how her husband Don had dropped out of school to support her after she was kicked out of the house by her mother; how he worked two part-time jobs for twelve hours a day earning minimum wage because the good jobs didn't go to high school dropouts; how he got fired from one job for not stopping an armed robber from emptying out the till, then became the armed robber just so he could feed his wife and son. Hearing how she described him as loving and caring and sweet, listing off the things he'd done for her and unable to keep tears from rolling down her cheeks...

Yeah. It made me uncomfortable. I couldn't ignore it like this; the state my city was in, the state of its people. When good people had to turn to crime to make a living... In college, my criminology professor had always said crime was only a symptom of a greater disease. I'd never believed him. But, now? I wasn't so sure.

And it happened again: the appeal of superheroing dwindled ever further.

After she recovered, Gracie talked about how she'd followed the advice people had given to her in her first meeting, and shared the results. Apparently, they'd suggested she arrange a meeting with her mother, using her father as a go-between, to see if they could repair their relationship. I wasn't so sure that was a good idea — her mother sounded like a grade-A bitch — but Gracie said it had gone well, and they'd discussed the possibility of her moving back in so her parents could help with the baby.

Despite my reservations, I found myself feeling glad for her; and missing my own parents. My relationship with my mother had never recovered after my father's death and the... the kidnapping. Sarah and Donny had joined me when we cut ties, and I was glad she no longer a part of my life; I still shuddered to think I might never have found out what she'd done if not for Donny. But I couldn't help but miss that. Having a mother.

I'd expected anger from Ashlyn — Gracie's husband had been a member of the same gang that killed her husband, after all — but I saw only sympathy and compassion. It surprised me, how easily she could look beyond it and understand the pain beneath.

In her position, I wasn't sure I could have done the same.

Maria went last, talking about how she'd recently gotten back into the dating scene since her wife died last year, and how her adoptive son was doing in school, and making jokes about the difficulties of a being a lesbian hispanic in Brockton Bay.

Throughout it all, I found myself empathising with every last one of them. Sympathising. I... wasn't sure how I felt about that. I felt like a hypocrite.

But before Maria, a tall, skinny man with dark hair and spectacles stood from his seat — the man who'd given advice to Charles. Danny Hebert, he introduced himself. His wife was killed by a drunk driver almost nine months ago. No-one had been charged. He talked about his daughter, mostly. How she'd taken up the role his wife had filled around the house, taking extra chores and making breakfast for the both of them, even though she was only eight. How she was coping well with her mother's death; or at least, how she seemed to be — much like my own girls. They'd returned to their bubbly, energetic selves not even two weeks after Mark's funeral, for the most part. But I knew they were still hurting, even if they tried to hide it.

When everyone had said their piece, Maria asked if I wanted to share a little more. With hesitance that surprised me, I said, "No, maybe next time," and the meeting was adjourned. The clock on the wall read quarter-to-seven. A few people grabbed their kids and left, while others stayed to talk with each other. Maria made circles around the room, stopping to chat with everyone before they left.

Sarah bumped me with her elbow, leaning in to my ear. "That's the guy Alan Barnes told you about, right?" she said.

I followed her finger. She was pointing toward Danny Hebert, who was currently talking with Charles. "I think so. Why?"

"Let's go talk to him." She grabbed me by the arm and started toward him.

"What?" I squawked. "Why?"

"You told me Alan thought you'd get along," Sarah said. "And I told you before, you need a friend you can talk about this stuff with. So we're going to make you one."

We arrived beside him just as Charles was leaving. Sarah gave him one of her winning smiles and held out a hand. "Hey," she chirped. "Danny, right?"

Danny blinked at her, then shook her hand. "Yeah," he said. "You're Sarah, and..." He turned to me, holding out his hand. I shook it. "...you're Carol. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," I said.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too," Sarah said. "You know Alan Barnes, right?"

Danny blinked again. "I do. My daughter is at his house right now. How do you know Alan?"

"I work with him," I said, before Sarah could take over the conversation. If I was going to do this, then I was going to do this, not let her do it for me. "He told me about... all of this." I made a vague gesture around the room.

"Oh!" he said, smiling. "Carol Dallon, right, of course. Sorry. Alan did tell me about you, actually; a few days ago."

I raised an eyebrow. "He did? What'd he say?"

Danny shrugged. "Just that you might be coming, and to look out for you." His smile turned sheepish, and he reached up to run a hand through his hair. "I sort of... forgot. Sorry."

Sarah laughed. "You don't use the daycare service?"

"What?" Danny said, turning to her and furrowing his brow.

"Your daughter," Sarah... sort of clarified. "You said she was at Alan Barnes' house."

"Oh!" Danny shook his head. "No, I don't. I usually, uh... I usually go for drinks after these meetings. Taylor spends the night at Alan's house — she's best friends with his youngest. This stuff... brings up memories." He jerked upright, holding his hands up. "Uh, don't misunderstand me. These meetings are helpful — a lot more than I expected. I just need time to... wind down, afterwards."

I nodded. "I can see that."

Sarah glanced between us. "Would you mind some company?"

Danny was visibly taken back. "Company? You mean the two of you?"

"Just Carol," she said. I shot her a look, and she smiled at me. "She tells me Alan thinks you'd get along."

Danny glanced at me. "I... guess I wouldn't mind, no," he said. "But, uh... don't you have two daughters?"

I sighed. "Yes, I do," I said, glaring at Sarah again.

"Oh, they can spend the night with me and Neil," my sister said with a dismissive wave. "Crystal loves having them over — Eric never really lets her play up the `big sister' role quite like Amy does. And besides: you need some downtime, Carol. You spent a month as a full-time parent, and now you've gone straight back to work." She grinned. "Take a night. I got this."

I rubbed the back of my head. I glanced at Danny, then back to Sarah. "Fine," I sighed. "Just... make sure they brush their teeth properly, instead of just faking it. And let the girls sleep together, in case Amy has a nightmare. And don't try to make Victoria eat peas. And — "

Sarah laughed. "I got it, Carol, I got it. They're kids. They're all like that. Crystal decides she doesn't `do' a new vegetable pretty much every week — this week's is broccoli, in case you were wondering."

"I guess..."

"They'll be fine," Sarah said. "I promise." She pushed me forward and picked up her bag, then headed for the door. "Have fun!"

Then she was gone. I glanced at Danny — he was smiling lopsidedly, though it was light upon his lips, barely noticeable.

"Did you bring a car?" he said.

"No. Sarah gave me a lift." I sighed — more than a little ruefully — as I moved to grab my bag. "I should have known she'd do this."

"I didn't bring my car, either," Danny said. "Split a taxi?"

I looked at him; he had one eyebrow raised above the rim of his glasses. Well, if I'm going to do this, I might as well make the most of it. Good impressions, Carol. Good impressions.

I gave him my best smile. "Sure."


* * *

We got off at an old brick-and-mortar establishment, a sign above the door proclaiming it as the `Bayside Bar & Grill' — though it was nowhere near the Bay. The windows were small and inset, and the door was large and made of wood, with long elegant patterns carved into its surface and a black metal grate where there would otherwise have been a miniature window.

We walked down the steps — the bar was built lower into the ground than a regular building — and entered the bar. The first thing I noticed was the motif; the style. It was all rather rustic. Old-fashioned. The tables and chairs were all polished wood with dark leather padding — the floor was polished wood, too, but that was mostly covered by rugs and carpets. There were only about a half-dozen other people present, most eating at their tables, alone or with a partner.

The lights on the walls were antique in design, almost like torch sconces. There was a pool table in the far corner with a jukebox just behind it — both styled in a similar fashion — and a wide-screen television mounted above the bar, playing the news. Danny and I took seats at the bar, and ordered our drinks.

We sat there for a long while — it felt like ten minutes, but it was probably less — without saying a word.

I wasn't sure what to do. And didn't that seem to be happening a lot, lately?

I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone to a bar. Unless Mark's wake counted. No, that was a restaurant; not every place that serves drinks is a bar. Though this place could conceivably be called a restaurant, too. A waitress was walking about with a tray of drinks in hand and a laminated menu under her arm, and the sounds of a kitchen could be heard even with the jukebox playing some classic rock song; quietly, but still. The food looked rather appetising, too. Maybe —

I shook my head to clear it. The point was that I hadn't done this sort of thing for a long time. Years, even. I remembered the firm hosted mixers on special occasions — that is to say: every other month — but I'd stopped attending after the second or third such get-together, not long after the end of my internship. It wasn't really my scene, even then.

So I wasn't entirely sure we were supposed to do here. What Sarah expected us to do. Just drink? No, that'd be stupid. She'd want me to talk to Danny. As would Alan. They wanted me to make friends with him — or at least try to. And I'd said I would.

Problem was, I was probably better at milking cows than I was at making friends, and I've never touched a cow in my life — at least, not a whole one.

I glanced at Danny; he held a half-empty glass in his hand — bourbon or whiskey or something, on the rocks — and twisted it in his fingers absently, looking down at it but not really focusing. Now that I was closer to him and not the focus of everyone's attention, I could actually take note of his appearance.

Tall, skinny and bespectacled, I'd gotten already. Those were pretty obvious. Less obvious were the callouses on his hands that spoke of manual labour or fist fights. The pale, hairless scars on his arms, visible now that his sleeves were rolled up. There was muscle there, too, though it wasn't developed enough to really stand out.

I could also see part of a tattoo on his shoulder, a blue and black depiction of something I couldn't quite make out. An anchor, maybe. And he had a hint of stubble on his chin and jaw, and a mole where his neck met his collarbone. His eyes were intent, though slightly sunken. His hair dark, short-cut, and unkempt.

As a whole, he was reasonably good-looking. He wasn't conventionally handsome like Mark had been, or quite so much of a rugged stereotype of manliness as Neil was, nor did he have the air of roguishness about him that Donny did. Instead, Danny seemed to embody... reliability. Something only compounded by how simply he was dressed: a long-sleeved, button-up work shirt over dark jeans and clean brown boots.

So no, he wouldn't fit in as a model for men's underwear. But... I could see the appeal there, all the same.

Danny's gaze shifted in my direction, and I jerked back around to my own drink. I didn't want him to think I was staring. But anyway, making friends. You can't do that without talking. And talking is something I can do. Probably.

Alright. Pick something safe, something easy, something to break the ice... Ah!

I looked at him. "So — "

"So — " Danny began.

We cut off at the same time. I fought to keep how mortified I was off my face. There was a long moment of silence, then Danny laughed.

After a moment, I gave a chuckle of my own.

"You go first," we said in unison.

Another moment of silence, and more mortification on my part. Danny laughed again, leaning over the bar and raising a hand to his face. It went on for a while. And it was infectious. It didn't take long for me to start laughing along with him — though it was still an awkward laughter.

After we finally calmed down, Danny wiped tears from his eyes and turned to me. "You were going to say?"

I blinked. "Oh, right," I said. "Uh, just small talk. That's what you're meant to do in this kind of situation, right?"

Danny chuckled and nodded. "If memory serves, yes," he said. "Alright. What should we start with?"

I made myself smile at him. "I was going to ask what work you do."

Danny turned on his stool to face me, moving so the bar was to his left, rather than directly in front of him. "I'm a representative for the Dockworker's Union," he said, looking back down at his drink and toying with the glass. "Mostly, I just talk to employers and try and get paying contracts for the union workers. It's not the most glamorous job in the world, but I like to think I make a difference. Help someone put food on the table."

He stopped talking for a long moment, and I was about to speak when he shook his head, gave a dry chuckle, and continued: "Though to tell you the truth, I'm not really sure what I'm doing. Not even one year ago I was filing papers and doing accounts in between manual labor. Then Barry died, and they offered me his job. I took it because the pay was good and the hours were lighter, and for a few other reasons, but..." He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "There's so much politics involved, and I'm no good with that."

He glanced at me. "How long have you lived in the Bay?"

I cast my mind back. "Almost fourteen years, now."

Danny nodded. "Well, I'm a Brocktonite, born and raised. I've only left the city maybe a half-dozen times, to visit family. When I was a kid, my dad had a stint as a delivery man. He took me with him sometimes, after school. I remember driving around in his truck, all over the city, just looking out the window. The Bay wasn't in a great state, even then, but... it was better. You know, they used to run a ferry; all the way from Downtown to the Boardwalk. The first time I rode it was in sixth grade — my mother took me — and I still remember the feeling I got when we cruised across the Bay.

"That ferry is the reason I joined the Union in the first place. Well, one of the reasons. They shut it down while I was in college — studying electrical engineering, if you can believe that — not long after my dad had his second heart attack. My mother moved to Cali to look after her mother, then Annette got pregnant and her family disowned her, and Taylor was born, and... well, I couldn't support them; not the way things were. So I dropped out and took whatever work I could get, and the Union was there. That was the second reason. But the first reason, why I didn't leave... that was the ferry. And the city.

"See, the ferry only started running in '83," Danny continued, growing more animated and tapping the bar with his fingers, sketching out imaginary diagrams on the wood. "And those days, from '83 to '95? Those were the best days, at least for Brockton Bay. Before the Endbringers appeared, or at least before we really knew about them. Before all these supervillains became dime a dozen. Back when the world was normal... well, for the most part.

"But the Bay always had an unusual level of crime, even in the sixties. My dad always told me that after the ferry started running, the gangs lost their hold over the city. The ferry connected Downtown with the Docks, see. And that simple connection brought jobs. But when they shut it down again, that work all dried up, and the gangs started to grow again.

"And I realised, there was a connection there. Crime rates didn't rise because of some nebulous energy infecting the city, they rose because the city was bad enough that crime became an easier method for people to support themselves. That whole `crime is a symptom' thing... I'd always heard that, but I never really understood it until I dropped out of college. And that old adage, that a locked door only keeps out honest folk? That applies here, I think — after a fashion. I mean, criminals will always exist. Some people are just... bad. But gangs aren't made up all of bad folk, that'd be unrealistic. It takes all types to make a world, and that applies to gangs, too.

"Good men join gangs. That's a sad fact of life in Brockton Bay. A good man will take even the lowest-paying, most degrading job he can get to keep his family afloat. But when there are no jobs, he still has to support his family somehow. And the gangs; the Empire, Galvanate's Army, that new group — the Merchants? They can provide that. It's not safe money. It's not even easy money, at least not all the time. But it is money, and that's what makes the world go `round.

"And that's been happening a lot to us, lately. Workers come to me and say they're quitting the Union. And while they don't usually say it outright, we both know they're going to sign up with the gangs. I try to get as many contracts as I can, to give these people — and they are good people — real options. But bureaucracy and politics and greed and profiteering and all that other corporate bullshit gets in my way every single time because outsourcing and bringing in people from other cities, other states, is fucking cheaper."

Danny coughed into his hand. "Anyway, as I was saying... When I first joined the Union, I saw what was happening to the city, and I saw people joining the gangs to support themselves because there wasn't enough work to go around. And I remembered what my dad had told me about the ferry, and how it had revitalised the Bay. So I wrote up plans for it. Budgets, schedules, contractors, the lot. And when Leviathan turned up and sunk Kyushu? When shipping slowed, and the gangs got bigger, and the boat graveyard filled up even more — I made plans to clean that up, too.

"And that's why I stayed. That's why I took the representative job, when it was offered to me. So I could make those plans a reality. So I could bring the ferry back, and help create new jobs and business opportunities for my guys, and make this city great again. Somewhere you could raise a daughter in. Before I took the job, I proposed my plans a dozen times, and I got rejected each time. I thought I'd be able to do more as a representative, but I've had three meetings with the mayor now, and two with the city council, and it's still being rejected."

"And honestly, now that Annette's gone, I'm not sure — " Danny stopped, then shook his head sharply. "What am I doing?" he sighed, then turned to me. "I'm sorry, Carol. I was ranting, there. I shouldn't have done that. I guess I'm just... out of practice when it comes to this sort of thing." His voice took a wry tone. "I don't have a big social life beyond work."

"No," I said, holding out my hands. "It's okay, I don't mind, I get it. I don't have a great social life myself. But I thought it was interesting." I gave a lopsided smile. "Besides, I did ask."

He stared at me for a moment, then chuckled. "Well, thank you," he said, a smile playing about his lips. "I'm glad I didn't bore you too badly. But still, that's enough about my life for the moment, I think. What about you? You work with Alan, you said? I take it you're a lawyer, then?"

I nodded. "Prosecution." I grinned at him. "I don't have as much to talk about there, I'm afraid."

Danny laughed heartily, and the awkwardness just... vanished. And that set the tone for the rest of the night.

We moved on to talk about our kids. He talked about his Taylor, and how proud he was of her, and how, with the help of Alan's daughter, she was starting to seem happy again. He started to mention how much she was starting to look like her mother, but stopped himself again, and that seemed to set a line in the sand, too. We danced around the topic of our spouses, rarely mentioning them by name, and rarely even referencing them too overtly — where possible, at least.

I wasn't opposed. I didn't want to talk about Mark; not here, not now, and not in detail. I was just starting to enjoy myself. The support group was meant for dealing with that loss. This wasn't. And I got the impression Danny felt the same way.

But the longer we talked, the more I found myself beginning to feel comfortable around him, even sharing things with him I probably wouldn't normally share. I told him about Victoria and Amy. How Victoria was taking the older sister role seriously — even though they were only a few months apart — protecting Amy from bullies at school, even to the point of physical violence. How Amy crawled into my bed or Victoria's a few times a week, and got excited by the most simple of things, like watching me make her lunches.

And in a burst of openness that surprised even me, I told him about Amy's adoption. Though not the full details, of course, and with a few white lies to cover up the holes. I told him how we'd adopted her two years ago, which was true, and that it had been at Mark's behest, which was not. I told him how I'd found it difficult to care for her properly, to see past the fact that she was someone else's child and not mine, to love her the way she deserved to be loved, which was all true, just... not completely honest.

I was a bumbling ball of nerves as I talked, but Danny just sat there and listened; not judging me or making comments, just letting me speak, even when I detailed my... neglectful parenting. How I'd supplied her material needs, but ignored her emotional ones. Treated her like a temporary guest rather than a daughter, for almost two years.

Then I told him how I'd changed my tune after Mark's death. How I'd realised — admittedly, with the help of my sister — that Amy had actually thought of him as her father, just as she thought of me as her mother, and that I needed to live up to that. And how I was now trying as best I could to do right by her.

When I was done, Danny gave me his sympathies. Silly, heartfelt-but-generic things like "That sounds tough," and "You're a better person than you think you are."

And oddly... I didn't mind them. I wasn't sure why.

I also wasn't sure why I was feeling so open, now, though I at least had theories for that topic. It could have been because he'd been so open with me, even without being asked. There was a desire to reciprocate that I was not at all accustomed to.

Or it could have been because he was a stranger. Which was an odd thought to consider, as that had been one of my primary arguments against the support group, because I'd thought talking to strangers couldn't possibly help me.

But weirdly, the lack of any kind of existing relationship seemed to make it easier to share those more intimate, personal details, like my poor treatment of Amy. Or perhaps not so weirdly; after all, I didn't really care what Danny thought of me.

Only, for some reason, I did. So it was weird.

Argh!

I finished off by confiding that I was worried I'd somehow... damaged Amy. Scarred her. Affected her psyche in such a way that she didn't feel wanted, even now. And the thought of that terrified me, especially after I'd remembered how often I'd felt that way in the past, and how that had broken me — which I knew was true, even if I didn't like to admit it.

But of course, I didn't tell him any of that. Just that I was concerned.

Danny's response? He reminded me that kids are flexible. At her age, Amy was likely to just forget how distant I'd been in her early years with me, so long as I remedied the situation — which I was doing. She'd move past it.

That was something I knew already, on an instinctive level if not an intellectual one — I just hadn't quite recognised it yet. And it was something I think I needed to hear. That I hadn't irrevocably ruined her life; that I still had a chance to be a proper mother to her.

I was thankful. And I told him so. And the conversation lulled — equal parts resurged awkwardness and the comfortable silence of good company.

Then we came to the mutual and inexplicably simultaneous decision to have some fun, and we played a game of pool. We shared stories as we played; mostly inane, innocuous ones, like how Danny's father had taught him to play when he was five — though he didn't tell me that until after he'd won.

It was close, though! If I hadn't sunk his nine by accident, I might've taken the trophy myself.

After our game, we sat down and ordered dinner: two plates of char-grilled steak with fries on the side and a copious amount of salt. Not the healthiest meal I've ever had, but there was nothing wrong with that, surely. The girls weren't around, after all — I didn't need to set a good example here.

We talked some more as we ate. I soon found a smile — small though it was — had grown on my lips, and it didn't seem to be going anywhere.


* * *

I excused myself after our game of darts — which I did win fair and square; don't let anyone tell you otherwise — to visit the bathroom. I entered the ladies' toilets, stepping sideways as another woman passed, and pushed into a cubicle to do my business.

On my way out, a box on the wall by the entrance caught my eye; metal all around with a coin slot on one side and a dispenser at the bottom.

A condom machine.

I paused.

An odd feeling buzzed in my stomach — like butterflies, only not. A familiar heat I'd been feeling for at least an hour now, but hadn't paid much attention to.

Maybe...

I shook my head. No. Danny was kind and sweet and charming, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to him on some level, but... no.

There were a lot of reasons why I decided no; it wouldn't be right, I wasn't sure I was ready, I had no idea if he was attracted to me. And others.

But the crux of it was that I was enjoying this; just spending time with someone I liked — platonic time. I wanted — needed a friend; Sarah was right about that. But while it was true I hadn't had a real orgasm since weeks before Mark died, I wasn't so starved that I'd complicate matters — or ruin them entirely — by bringing sex into this. Not if I could help it.

I left the bathroom, and worked my way back to Danny. The crowd had filled out as the sun set, and more than half the tables were now stacked with plates of food and surrounded by noisy patrons.

I looked around as I moved through the room. A young couple had taken our places at the dart board. A group of five or six older — that is, middle-aged — folk were dancing by the jukebox. A trio of girls laughed around the pool table as the eight ball was sunk, and they moved to pack up.

I felt a grin coming on. "Hey, Danny — "

Someone bumped into me — or maybe I bumped into them; I wasn't exactly looking where I was going — and I stumbled into Danny. I slid one foot out to try and balance myself, but he caught me in his arms, one hand snaking around my back as my head knocked against his chest and my own hands clutched at his shoulders.

"Carol?" Danny said. "Are you alright?"

Slowly, I stood, regaining my balance. I nodded without looking up at him. "I'm fine." I withdrew my hands from his shoulders and straightened, still not letting him see my face. I could feel the heat in my cheeks. It was an odd feeling, after so long. But I didn't quite move away. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, then the awkward silence reared its ugly head once more. "Uh, what were you about to say to me?"

Finally confident my face had returned to its normal state, I looked up at him. He had one eyebrow raised. I glanced over to the pool table — which the trio of girls were just now leaving — then back to Danny and nodded toward it. "Best two out of three?"


* * *

The clock struck eleven just as we were paying off our bills. Danny yawned, rubbing between his eyes. "Whereabouts do you live?" he asked.

I looked at him. "Downtown," I said. "Clearmont Valley."

He blinked, then smiled lopsidedly. "Near Arcadia? That's a way aways. I live on Skylark, not too far from here. Not quite as nice a neighbourhood — " he grinned as he spoke " — but at least we've not had much crime. So..." He scratched at the stubble on his chin. "You want to share a taxi again? Skylark's on the way to Clearmont; could save you a bit of cash."

"I... could live with that," I said, returning the smile.

We had the bartender call us a taxi, and piled into the back. Then —

"Wait!" I said, opening the door again just as the driver was about to pull out. "Sorry. I'll be back in just a moment." I grabbed my bag and hurried back into the bar — and into the bathroom.

I bought six condoms, shoving them as far into my bag as they'd go.

I refused to let myself think about it.


* * *

The drive was quiet. A companionable quiet — probably. I was pretty sure the awkward feeling I had was just in my head. I spent the minutes staring out my window as the city passed by. The assortment of shops and bars and restaurants — most now with their shutters down and security doors locked — quickly faded to run-down suburban houses peppered with the occasional convenience store or post office.

After what felt like an eternity, the taxi pulled on one such suburb. Danny handed the driver a pair of tens, then glanced at me. "Well," he said, "this is my stop. I, uh, had a good time tonight."

I didn't quite manage to look at him directly. "So did I."

"Good, I'm glad. Well... I guess I'll see you at the next meeting?"

"Maybe," I said.

"Or if you ever want to, uh, talk, you can... Did I give you my number?"

I turned toward him a little more, locking my eyes on his collar. "I don't think so."

He scratched at his forehead, this time. For some reason, I took more notice of it now than I had before. That had to be a nervous tic. "Well, that needs to be remedied, I think. Do you have a pen?"

I did. I said as much, and handed it to him. He started scribbling some numbers down on the back of his receipt from the bar.

A nervous tic? He'd been doing that all night. That... that meant he was nervous, right? Why was he nervous?

Danny clicked the pen and handed it back to me, his receipt folded around it. "So, like I said: if you ever want to talk, you can call me there. It's my home number — I can't quite afford a cell yet."

I tucked it into my bag. "Thank you, Danny."

Danny nodded. "Okay," he said. "Well, I'll be seeing you." He got out of the taxi, shutting the door behind him, and walked up the path to his house.

I watched him go.

My fingers brushed the roll of condoms in my bag.

Don't even think about it, Carol, a part of my mind said. Don't ruin this.

You're not going to ruin anything, another, larger part argued. You need this as much as he does. Don't deny yourself.

Don't.

"Danny!"

He turned. I met his eyes.

"Can I... come in?"

He blinked owlishly, but didn't respond. A long moment later, he nodded.

Grabbing my bag, I left the taxi and hurried up to meet him by the porch.


* * *

I kissed him as soon as we were through the door, throwing my bag to the side. Danny froze — just for a moment — then kissed back, sliding his tongue in to meet mine. I leaned up, pressing my body against his, pushing him slightly backward as I ran my hands down to his belt. He bumped into the door, knocking it closed, and blindly threw his keys at a bowl on the entryway cabinet — they missed and fell to the floor. Danny's hands moved to my hips and pulled me closer to him, but not aggressively.

We took uncertain steps deeper into his house, still joined at the mouth. His hands roamed up and down my sides, one stopping just below my hips to squeeze my rear, the other coming to a rest between my shoulder blades. My own hands continued to fumble at his belt, and I finally succeeded in pulling it free of the loops on his pants — it went on the floor with his keys.

He bent down, forcing me to bend backwards to remain connected, and hopped onto one foot, awkwardly removing his shoe. I grabbed his shirt and scrabbled at the buttons. His shoes went on the floor, his shirt following a second later. He withdrew a moment for breath, then he was back again, our tongues resuming their clashing dance.

Then it was my turn.

We continued stumbling backward. I saw a couch out of the corner of my eye, and angled us toward it. Danny pulled at my jacket; I moved to accommodate, and together we freed one of my arms. Then his hands moved to work at the buttons on my own shirt, and I cast off the rest of my jacket myself. He drew my top off my shoulders, pushing my arms back while I kicked off my heels. All we had on now were socks, pants, and underwear.

I felt something bump the back of my leg, and broke our kiss for a moment to look back at it — I'd bumped into the coffee table. I kissed him again, then grabbed his shoulders and turned us around. He made a sound in my mouth, and I pushed him down onto the couch, kneeling over him. I ran a hand down his stomach — slightly pudgy — and slid it beneath his waistline, gently fondling the growing bulge in his pants to hardness.

Danny groaned into my mouth, and pulled apart. I moved to kiss at his throat, rubbing my knees together. He put his hands on my shoulders. "Wait," he said. I kept suckling, but he pushed me back. "Carol, wait." I pulled away, sitting on his stomach and meeting his eyes.

"What?" I said. My voice was husky. I continued fondling him.

He put a hand to his face. "What are we doing?" he sighed.

"Having sex. I hope."

"I mean — we barely know each other. I don't — I — "

I reached back with my spare hand and undid the clasp on my bra, sliding it off my shoulders and letting it drop to the floor.

Danny stared.

I leaned forward, pressing against him again, his chest hair tickling my skin as I brushed my breasts against him. I put one hand on his shoulder for balance; my other hand gripped his hardness, stroking it up and down with a soft touch.

"If you want to stop," I breathed against his cheek, "just tell me."

Danny groaned, rolling his head back. "That's not fair," he said. "I haven't — " He grunted as I tightened my grip momentarily. "It's been a year. More."

I leaned in and kissed him again, slower this time, savouring the feeling. He turned into it. "Does that matter?" I said when I pulled away, then licked a trail up his jaw.

He shuddered, and I released my hold on his shaft, instead sliding down his body and grabbing the waist of his pants with both hands. I peeled it down, slowly. Danny lifted to accommodate, and a few seconds later he had only his underwear on — well, that and his socks. I grabbed the hem of his boxers and dragged them down too. They caught for a moment on his bulge, but then there were past, and his cock popped out to slap against his stomach. He groaned again as the cold air reached his crotch.

I crawled up his body to kiss him again, one hand returning to stroke him, slowly at first, but getting faster. My other hand hooked the waistband of my own pants and began sliding them off. I felt Danny's hand touch mine, and a tension was released on the opposite side, and we slid my pants off together, letting them fall.

I kissed him, our tongues intertwining so deeply we were left panting for breath. I stroked him faster, gripped him tighter, twirled a finger around his nipple and pinched gently. His groans increased in frequency, in fervour, in intensity, and I felt his hands grip my hips almost to the point of pain.

I saw his toes begin to curl out of the corner of my eye. Danny closed his eyes and rolled his head back. "I'm — "

I stopped.

Danny slumped, his head dropping back onto the couch. He groaned again. "Why?"

I pulled back. "One second," I said, putting a finger to his lips. I ran back to the entry way, where I'd dropped my bag, and grabbed the roll of condoms I'd bought. Then I ran back and pulled one from the packet. Danny watched me.

"Were you... carrying those around?" he said. "Just in case?"

I snorted — which was decidedly unfeminine — as I slid the rubber over him. "I bought them in the bathroom," I said. "At the bar. Now be quiet."

Once the condom was on, I crouched over his hips, pushing him back down with one hand and using the other to position his cock just beneath me. Anxiety settled in my stomach.

"W-wait," Danny said. "What about you? Don't we need to — "

"I'm fine," I told him. "I'm wet enough already."

Using one hand to keep things lined up, I lowered myself onto his cock. We both moaned in sync as it pushed inside me, spreading my folds and penetrating to my core. I slid further down, and Danny's hands came up again to grasp my hips. I brought a hand up to massage my breasts, using the other to keep Danny held down. My eyes closed as I rolled my head back, biting my lip and only managing to draw shaky breaths.

After what seemed like an eternity, my hips met his. He was fully inside me. It feels bigger than it looks. I opened my eyes and looked down at Danny. His eyes were glazed, slightly out of focus, his lips parted, his expression one of ecstasy. I smiled — though I expected it ended up as more of a smirk. Very gratifying, Danny. Thank you.

I looked down further, to my hips, where we were joined. My stomach was distended by his girth, my abdominals bulging slightly, making the long-faded scar from my c-section just that little bit more noticeable. I thought I could feel his cock throbbing inside me, but it was probably my imagination. I wiggled my hips a bit, drawing another moan from him. I moaned as well; his pubic hair tickled as it rubbed against my pussy.

Danny's hands slid around my waist. His fingers squeezed my flesh between them, and he bucked his hips beneath me. My smirk became a grin. "Alright, then."

I rolled my hips against his, undulating my back as I did so; a slow, twisting movement forward, and an equally-slow grind back. Repeat, building up speed with each movement. Danny moaned and writhed beneath me. He reached up a hand to pinch at my nipples, but I grabbed it by the wrist and pinned it against the couch, continuing to caress myself with my other hand.

On one forward grind, I lifted myself up until I felt the head of his cock resting just inside my entrance, nearly out. Cool air swept between us, making Danny gasp as a shiver ran through me. Then I pushed myself back down fast, taking him all the way to the root in an instant. Danny shuddered — and his cock shuddered with him, drawing a moan from my lips.

I leaned forward and kissed him, continuing to grind my hips against his, moaning around our joined lips. My breasts squished against his chest, his hair tickling my flesh. I punctuated every few of my hip movements with a hard bucked, impaling myself on Danny's cock and making him grunt each time. Danny's hands slid up behind my back, one squeezing my ass, the other intertwining with my hair, grasping the back of my head.

He pulled me closer to him, bucking his hips beneath me and thrusting inside me himself. I pulled away with a growl, biting his lip as I went, and pulled off the hand on my head. The one on my ass I allowed. Danny got the message, and dropped his other hand to my ass, too. Then I grabbed his head and mashed my lips against his, sending my tongue to swirl in his mouth.

I added a circular motion to my hip movements, gyrating clockwise slowly. Danny groaned and thrusted up harder, faster. I felt heat build in my core, a familiar tingling appearing in my loins.

My phone rang. I ignored it.

I started panting, and sped up my own movements again, grinding my hips against his as hard as I could without hurting myself. I withdrew my hand from his head and instead used it to massage my breasts, pinching and tweaking my nipples; the other hand I sent down to my pussy, where it rubbed and circled and flicked at my clit.

I arched my back as I came — my knees squeezing together over Danny's chest, my head rolling back as cries of pleasure escaped my throat. My entire body shuddered, and my pussy clenched down around his cock as my juices squirted onto his stomach and legs.

Danny groaned and thrust his hips up harder than ever before, lifting me clean off the couch and supporting my weight with his body alone — but only for a moment, then he dropped back down and leaned forward, burying his face between my breasts. He ran one hand along my shuddering back and squeezed my ass with the other, thrusting faster and harder into me and grunting with each thrust.

My hands found themselves on his shoulders, and I cried out again as I came a second time from his continued thrusts. He cried out too as he nuzzled at my neck, and I felt his legs shudder beneath me as he climaxed himself. The condom ballooned inside me as his cum filled it to the brim.

His arms tightened around me and pulled me close. My arms slipped around him too, and we pressed our bodies together as we shared a shuddering orgasm.

It felt like an eternity, but our climaxes finally ended. Danny slowed his thrusts, making only jerky bucks every few seconds as if in some futile attempt to get back what we just had. I opened my eyes. His forehead was pressed against mine, and he had his eyes closed. He was panting for breath. I withdrew my arms from his back and pulled back slightly.

He loosened his embrace and opened his eyes, meeting mine. I brought a hand up to his face, caressing his neck, then leaned forward and kissed him as passionately as I could manage. He reciprocated, and I rolled my hips against his, making him groan.

A few minutes later, we parted. I panted for a moment, as did he — his breath tickled my cheek.

It's not enough.

"W-what?" Danny said. I'd spoken out loud again. Danny's voice was as husky as mine, and he paused to clear his throat.

I stood, letting his cock pop out of me and slap against his stomach again. My legs were a little shaky, but I forced myself past it. I gripped his cock and peeled the condom off, stuffing it back in the wrapper. Driblets of his cum splattered onto his stomach and thighs, mixing with my juices.

I grabbed a fresh condom and peeled it from its wrapper, then knelt between his legs and ran a hand along his still-hard cock, the leftover cum gathering on my palm. I wiped it on a tissue — a box had been handily placed on the coffee table — which I then deposited on the table with the used rubber.

I looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "I want to do it again," I said as I slid the condom over his cock. My words were rather stilted; I was still panting, and my breasts heaved with each breath.

Danny stared at me for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. "Not here," he said, standing and steadying himself on the couch. "Upstairs." Then he turned and headed up the stairs.

I watched him, then grabbed the condoms and tissues and followed.

Weird Message

(Автор: Subrosian_Smithy)

Lisa slowly came to, experimentally testing the bonds which kept her splayed out. Taylor normally made a habit of asking beforehand, but she'd volunteered for the occasional surprise session, and now she was reaping the benefits. As always, she felt a warm, tingly heat rise up inside of her.

Not just a symptom of arousal, her power butted in.

"Whoa... what the — oh fuck — what the hell, Taylor?"

Taylor (wearing her Drider-themed dominatrix outfit, Lisa knew, despite being blindfolded) paused in her advance across the room as she absorbed Lisa's reaction. "Oh. Fuck. I've been reading too much into your browser tabs again, haven't I."

"My browser tabs!?" Lisa sputtered as she did her best to ignore the (totally not deeply and utterly arousing) warm skittering of spider legs in her womb. "What the hell are you talking about!?"

The blindfold came off as Taylor began hurriedly undoing Lisa's ties. "Well, you kept leaving oviposition and insect pregnancy porn open on your laptop, so I thought you were trying to send me some kind of weird message... I even asked Amy to brew up some biotinkered spiders which were safe to use, but I guess I'm nowhere near as clever as I thought I was."

Lisa blinked. "I don't even like porn, Taylor."

"So then..."

"Yeah, it was someone else, and I'm going to fucking kill them!"


* * *

From the other side of the door, the other members of the Undersiders continued to listen to the unfolding drama. Alec chuckled, elbowing Brian. "I bet you forget to use incognito mode, too."

"What? It wasn't me, you idiot!"

"Whatever you say, man. I'll probably end taking the fall for this anyways!"

Aisha shot Rachel a glance. Nah, I don't want to know.


* * *

"Well, shit. Hold on, let me..."

Lisa whimpered. "No, wait, put them back in!"

"...if you like it after all, then why are you so mad?"

"It's the principle of the thing! Now put them back and fuck me!"

Path To SkitterTale

(Автор: kamenhero25)

Contessa: YES!!!

Dr. Mother: What are you on about?

Contessa: Look! *shows her a hidden camera of Lisa and Taylor getting it on*

Dr. Mother: Why are you watching two teenagers having sex?

Contessa: Do you know how much effort it took me to get those two together?

Dr. Mother: Why in God's name would you try and get those two together?

Contessa: Because they're adorable.

Dr. Mother: I meant why did it require your personal attention?

Contessa: Well they weren't going to do it on their own. It took me years to set this up.

Dr. Mother: What?

Contessa: Yes. First, I had to find one specific angry Japanese man and slam his head into cocaine until he turned into a rage dragon. The I arranged for the Yang Ban to capture him so he'd hate everyone. Then I let him escape and nudged him toward Brockton Bay.

Dr. Mother: You're talking about Lung. That has to do with those two how?

Contessa: Well, if he wasn't around then they don't meet at the right time and Taylor doesn't join Lisa's little team. Of course, I had to form the team too.

Dr. Mother: *feels a headache forming* Okay. How?

Contessa: Oh, that was easy. All I had to do was make Calvert our Brockton Bay operative and he came up with the idea himself. Easiest part of this mess.

Dr. Mother: Didn't he die a few hours ago? Wait, don't tell me. That's part of this plan too, isn't it?

Contessa: I'll get there in due time. Then I had to make sure Piggot got appointed as Brockton's PRT head, just to make sure that Sophia Hess stayed in the Wards. I needed her to distance Taylor from the heroes so she'd become a villain and stay with Lisa.

Dr. Mother: Of course you did. Let me guess, you got Armsmaster appointed too.

Contessa: Well if someone with any social skills at all had been in charge, they might have been able to talk Taylor into the Wards. I had to make sure that didn't happen, so I let Armsmaster lead them. It also played nicely into turning her against the heroes after Leviathan attacked. Honestly, that was just lucky. Damned Endbringers, almost messing with my Path to SkitterTale.

Dr. Mother: *pained sigh* Of course. Is that all?

Contessa: Well, I also sabotaged the parahuman feudalism plan a little.

Dr. Mother: WHY?!

Contessa: Because I knew they'd have victory sex if I let Calvert die, so I kind of just ignored the chance to stop them from interfering.

Dr. Mother: You know what? I'm just going to go get drunk and forget we had this conversation. Just... get back to the path that saves the world, alright?

Contessa: What? Oh right, that path. I'm sure I have it written down somewhere. *goes back to watching Taylor/Lisa sexy times*

Dr. Mother: *suffers*

Path To All The Shipping

(Автор: kamenhero25)

Contessa: Finally! Thank fucking God. *tosses some popcorn in a microwave*

Dr. Mother: What are you on about?

Contessa: It took me more than ten years, hundreds of hours and more personal attention than any single other project we've ever worked on, but I finally did it.

Dr. Mother: Wait, which project was this?

Contessa: This one. *shows a hidden camera of Taylor, Lisa, and Amy having a steamy lesbian threesome*

Dr. Mother: This is what took you ten years and hundreds of hours? Three teenagers?

Contessa: YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD THIS WAS!

Dr. Mother: Alright, alright. No need to get angry.

Contessa: *settles down* Anyway. This has been my masterpiece. Ugh, this almost wasn't worth the trouble I had to go through to make it work.

Dr. Mother: I'm afraid to ask, but I feel like I have to.

Contessa: Well, I had to manipulate most of Brockton Bay's parahuman population. Getting rid of Marquis was the first step.

Dr. Mother: Okay... why?

Contessa: Well, I had to make sure Amy wasn't attached to her family too much, so I leaked Marquis' identity to the Brockton Bay Brigade. I knew that Brandish would be noble enough to take in her enemy's daughter, but too caught up in her own problems to care for her properly. That made sure Amy would be vulnerable to someone who showed her genuine affection.

Dr. Mother: *groans* I already don't like where this is going.

Contessa: Then I had to make sure Calvert caught Lisa when she came to town so he'd start his little gang. That was as easy as an email, thank god.

Dr. Mother: I'm starting to wish I hadn't asked.

Contessa: I needed him around to make sure a certain bank robbery happened. At first I was worried that it had somehow damaged my plans, but then I remembered something important.

Dr. Mother: *sighs* What?

Contessa: Hate sex is great sex. And now that Calvert's not necessary, I don't have to worry about his thing for little girls anymore.

Dr. Mother: Wait, thing for little girls? Should I have been told about this before now?

Contessa: I admit, he's a sleaze ball, but I doubt he'll be around much longer so it's not my problem.

Dr. Mother: Shouldn't we do something then? He is the head of our parahuman feudalism plan.

Contessa: Oh, that's been invalid for years. I've been manipulating most of Brockton Bay's cape scene since I got Marquis arrested.

Dr. Mother: Well, that's years of work I'm never getting back. Just... continue. Do we have any hard liquor?

Contessa: Left cabinet, top shelf. Lung, Piggot, Armsmaster, Coil, all of it arranged just to make sure they ended up where they are right now. It was a pain to keep everyone in their positions considering most of them were horribly incompetent or just not suited for their position. Even Coil would have failed by now with that god-complex he developed a few years back.

Dr. Mother: *fetches booze and starts drinking from the bottle* And you've been doing this... instead of trying to save the world. Like we planned. *rubs her temples* Alright then. Is there anything else I should know?

Contessa: Well... we didn't need William anymore, did we?

Dr. Mother: Please tell me you're not talking about Manton.

Contessa: *innocent whistling*

Dr. Mother: God damn it! The Siberian could have helped us kill Scion!

Contessa: She was interfering with their plans to kill the Slaughterhouse! I needed them dead now, otherwise Amy would have had a breakdown instead of letting Taylor and Lisa comfort her. So I kind of had Doorman open a door to that shitty van he drives around in and capped him.

Dr. Mother: *chugs half the bottle* Okay, so that happened. I guess I'll have to rework the Scion fight plans then.

Contessa: You'll have time. With Slash dead, you have ten years instead of two.

Dr. Mother: At least some good came out of this.

Contessa: You don't think this is good? *points to screen with Amy getting DPed by Taylor and Lisa's strap-ons*

Dr. Mother: I meant the common good.

Contessa: Oh, I brought you a present that might help with that. *Bonesaw pops up*

Bonesaw: Hi.

Dr. Mother: How? Why?

Contessa: She knows about Passengers. I figured you could use a lab assistant. And here she'll do some good. I can send her to join the Undersiders if you don't want her.

Bonesaw: I'd rather be with my big sister you know.

Dr. Mother: Dare I ask? Who?

Bonesaw: *most innocent little girl smile until you remember this is Bonesaw* The one getting it in both ends.

Dr. Mother: *looks at the screen* I'm not sure if letting Panacea and Bonesaw collaborate on something is a good idea.

Contessa: What's the worst that could happen? *ominous thunder sound*

Dr. Mother: I'm just going to go get drunk. Take Bonesaw back to her... sister when she's... done.

Contessa: Okay. And call Becky when you have the chance. This is kind of getting me worked up and I need some Alexandria lovin'

Dr. Mother: Very drunk. Good night.

Regent and Panacea

(Автор: Rahvin)

So I was lamenting the sad dearth of Regent/Panacea fics — body control and growth are right up my alley. Then I thought to myself, "wait right there Rahvin old buddy, you do some of this writing thing every now and then, why don't you write some yourself?" And so I did.


* * *

Alec looked over his magazine at the girl tied to the other chair by twists of wire. "You know Amy," he said cheerfully, "if you'd stop struggling against me this would be a lot easier for both of us."

She spat in response, or at least tried to past the length of chain he'd wrapped around her mouth. He felt the way her muscles moved through his power, amused himself by tweaking a few and making her bite her tongue. She glared at him.

This was probably crossing a line. Panacea was a nationally recognised cape, the best healer in the world. She was a resource. If they found out he'd taken her he'd be at the top of everyone's wanted list. That was if they found out.

His power was nearly done mapping her now. He'd been sat in this dingy little room for almost three and a half hours with her, tucked away in one of the more rundown areas of the docks. He experimentally twitched her leg, curled her fingers. The glare she held intensified, and he chuckled.

"Amy Amy Amy, there's no need to be so hateful. I mean, if you'd join up with us willingly then we wouldn't need to go through this rigmarole. It's your fault you wanted to be a hero, look down your nose at people like me. When we get banged up, what can we do about it? Can't go to the hospital, too suspicious. Can't have miraculous cape healing, because while you claim to be neutral everyone knows how the heroes always just happen to end up at the front of your to-do list and suspected villains just slip off the bottom end, forgotten."

He flexed his power and wiped the glare from her face, forcing her expression into neutral passivity. He let the fire in her eyes stay though. It amused him. "No," he continued, "when we need a doctor, we have a very short list of options. There are five doctors in the Bay that deal anonymously with parahumans, and three of them work for the Empire. Another belongs to Lung and only treats asians, and the last works for Coil and charges truly ridiculous amounts of money for anonymity." He spread his arms. "So where are us poor little fishes left?"

He stood up. His power was finished, he could tell. He could feel it, the way he could sense a faint echo in her every time he moved. Moving her body was as easy as moving his own, especially this close, eye to eye. He peered through her eyes for a second, made her look him up and down in a weird moment of looking at himself while he looked at her.

He began working on untwisting the wire ties that held her to the metal chair. Nothing that even used to be organic had been touching her — he wasn't stupid, he did his research. "I'll tell you where we're left, Amy. We're left for dead. Unless we get creative. Like me. I've always prided myself on being creative. Finding... different solutions. The day to day cape drudgery is just... it's not really me."

He finished untying her and stood her up. He looked her up and down, having her smooth her disheveled costume down. Not actually that bad, he mused. Kept herself in good shape, and she had enough to show that the white and red robes didn't so much conceal as... suggest. Probably easy to eat healthy when you spend all day seeing how other people fuck themselves up in detail.

"I wasn't always called Regent, you know? I used to go by Hijack. Personally, I like Regent better. It's... I dunno? Classier? A lord and his subjects instead of a criminal and his victims."

He stepped back from her.

"And you're my newest subject," he said with her voice. He could see the horror in her eyes as she slowly realised the control he held over her. He carried on speaking with her mouth. "I have complete control over your entire body. Not your mind, obviously. That would be creepy. Just your every word and movement. Oh, and your powers, which is what I actually need."

He could feel her fighting him, her every muscle straining against him. Didn't matter. "See," he continued in his own voice, "you're going to heal my team. We had a nasty night the one before last. Lung. I'm sure you understand. Grue's got about eight broken bones, Bitch has a shattered arm and her and Tattletale are both dealing with second degree burns. So you're going to walk on in and fix them up, and then you're going to walk on back to New Wave and the Protectorate and you're going to say that everything was fine and you just took a long night walk to clear your head from all the stress you've been under lately."

"I would never say that, you asshole!" he had her say. He even added a bit of falsetto.

"Ah, but Amy," he replied to himself, "of course you would."

"Because," he made her say, "you're my puppet and you will dance to whatever tune I tell you to."

The seething hatred in her eyes brought a chuckle to his lips. He couldn't help it. He turned back to the beat-up old wingback he'd been sitting in before, sat back down. He should probably get going. The other Undersiders didn't know he was gone, but in their state that was pretty understandable. He'd left them back in the lair confined to their beds.

He chuckled again. He'd only gone out to get more soda. Happening across Panacea on her way back from the hospital — sans Glory Girl too, for once — had been a happy accident. And all of a sudden here was Alec, playboy Regent, riding in to save the day.

He deserved a reward. Not that they'd give him one. Brian would bitch him out for using his actual power. Lisa would go off on another one of her inane rants about how terrible everything was going to be now he'd taken Amy Dallon. Not that it would be. He'd have her home soon, keep control of her, and nobody would be any the wiser. There was enough shit online about the Dallons' private lives that he thought he could do a good enough job playing her, especially if she was as introverted as it seemed.

Lisa wouldn't see that. or maybe she would, but she'd bitch anyway because that's what she did.

He looked back up at Amy, still standing stock still where he left her. If he wanted a reward, why not take one? He had time. It wasn't like anyone knew where he was, or expected him back. He had her reach up experimentally, cupping one breast, and was pleasantly surprised.

"That baggy costume's really doing you a disservice, Amy," he told her. "You've got more under there than you let on."

He settled back in his chair and had her undress, unfastening the thick white overcloak and letting it drop to the floor with a rustle. Underneath she wore a white bodysuit emblazoned with a red serpent-and-rod symbol. She reached back and unzipped it, peeling it down and off with a smooth movement until she stood in front of him in just her underwear.

He tutted. Didn't even match. Did she not know it was a special occasion? He had her reach up and squeeze herself again, hard, until he could feel the pain through her. He walked her over to him, knelt her down, put her hands on his knees.

"Do you know what I'm going to do now?" he asked her.

The desperate fight against his absolute control told him that she knew exactly what was coming.

He had her unzip him, felt her delicate fingers pull his cock free. He could feel her trying desperately to use her power on him, probably to turn him into some kind of gibbering wreck, but he held it in an iron grip. He bent her down, made her take him into her mouth.

He leaned back in the chair as he put her mouth to work. The sensation of feeling himself being blown at the same time as feeling himself doing the blowing was... surreal. Surreal but amazing. He swirled her tongue around his head and wrapped her fingers around the base of his shaft as he bobbed her up and down on him.

He could feel her disgust underneath his power. Her desperate attempts to recoil, to retch and scream and kill him. It excited him. He loved it. Revelled in it. He forced her to go down deeper on him, suppressed her gag reflex until her hot, wet mouth had taken him all the way in to the base. He kept her there for a second, feeling her try to choke, before he brought her back up.

Then he made her do it again. And again, until she was deepthroating him like a pornstar, spit running down her chin. He could feel his climax building, and he redoubled her efforts, having her put her hands on his knees for support as he mashed her face into his crotch. He could feel her getting short of breath — he wasn't giving her chance to breathe around his cock plunging into her throat — but right then he didn't give a damn. He was so close he could practically—

One last pump and he forced her to take him all in as his orgasm hit him like a truck. Shot after shot of cum spilled down her waiting throat, and he had her swallow every one. He held her there for what felt like hours as he came as hard as he'd ever come before into the teenage superhero's waiting mouth.

After an age, he was finished. He brought her up off him, had her wipe her mouth with those dainty little fingers of hers. A thought occurred to him, and he had her hand encircle his softening cock once more. He reached out for her power, felt a disorienting moment of seeing himself from the inside out, and gave himself a tweak.

He arched his back as his cock sprang instantly back to attention and a second orgasm smashed into him. He still had Panacea kneeling in front of him, and his cum burst out onto her immobile face. A white rope struck her in the eye and down her cheek, a second coated her lips, and more spurted forth to cover her waiting breasts.

He panted as his cock finally stopped twitching, looking over the newly-glazed Panacea. She was covered. Spunk pooled beneath her eye, in her cleavage. The left side of her face dripped with white, strings of his cum even pearling her hair. He laughed.

"God damn you've been holding out on everyone Amy!" He had her scrape the cum off her face and into her mouth with one finger, feeling her disgust as he made her swallow it down. "I wonder what other little tricks you've been hiding?"

He reached into her power again, took a more detailed look through her and into himself. A thought and his cock was hard again, refractory period banished, balls sitting heavy with more cum. He paused, smirked, and then started making changes. He converted fat to muscle, toning himself up into a teenage adonis. Sculpted his jaw a little, cleaned up a couple of old scars, straightened that errant canine tooth. His cock grew, adding another two inches, then three, then four until he had to have her add a second hand to keep it from hitting him in the stomach. He stopped at a foot, then shrugged and added another four inches anyway, with the girth to match. Amy's hands couldn't even fit all the way around it.

He looked through her eyes at himself. Not bad. Not bad at all. He stood up, leaving her knelt where she was. His newly massive cock slipped free of her hands as he rose and smacked her in the face, resting against her still-sticky cheek.

He had her open her mouth. He took his cock in his hands and started feeding it to her, pushing it between her lips until they stretched out as far as they could go. He barely got her past the head before she hit her limit. Meanwhile, he kept her hands busy removing her underwear. Once her bra and panties joined her costume in a pile on the floor, he took his cock from her mouth and sat back down again.

He stood her up, put one leg either side of him on the chair, and grabbed his cock in both hands as she lowered her glistening pussy down onto him. Shit she was tight. He tried for a few seconds, but there was no way she was going to be able to take him in. Not to worry though, he had her power at his disposal. He shrank his member down inch-by-inch until it slowly entered her. He felt resistance, and had her push harder until he felt pain from her and saw blood trickling down his shaft.

Huh. So Panacea was a virgin. Who'd have thought?

He paid it no mind as he had her sit in his lap, bottoming out with him fully inside her. A few test thrusts, having her raise up and lower back down, and he hit a rhythm with her and holy fuck did she feel good. Her pussy squeezed him like a steamy vice as he moved her up and down his cock. His power let him feel her side of the action as well, and the sensation was mind-blowing. Fucking himself was the best part about his power, hands down.

He settled her into a smooth, fast pace. Wet slapping echoed around the room with every thrust. He tapped her power again and enlarged himself inside her, slowly increasing the size of his cock until she was stretched so far she couldn't take any more. He could practically see her stomach bulge every time she bottomed out on him.

He used her like a toy, squeezing her pussy around him as he made her fuck herself on his massive prick. He had her reach up and grab her tits, rubbing the cum into them as she bounced.

"Oh Alec," he had her say breathily, "I love fucking you in this shitty room while I'm dripping with cum!"

It was his own words put in her mouth, of course, but that didn't mean it wasn't still hot hearing Panacea talk filth while he railed her.

"Oh fuck yes, fuck me Alec! Pound me hard like the slut I am! I want you to throw me down and cover me in your cum!"

He reached out with her power, flipped the switch in him he'd flipped before, and oh fuck he was cumming right now! He groaned and stood up out of the chair in one fluid movement, spearing her on his cock as the first spurt of his orgasm filled her pussy. She slid off him and tumbled to the floor as he grabbed his cock in both hands while cum fountained out of it. He hosed her with it, cumming with a force he'd never even thought was possible as rope after rope of thick, white seed plastered her face and chest where she lay on the floorboards. Cum leaked from her pussy as he kept cumming and cumming, spurting a geyser of spunk over the helpless hero. it felt like his balls were draining the life out of him with every shot. His head tipped back and he felt himself sagging.

After what felt like days, he finally dried up.

Below him, Panacea was covered, head to toe. Her hair was plastered to her face, every inch of exposed skin held a creamy glaze, more dripped from her to the floor around her.

"Jesus Christ Amy," he panted. "You really know how to bring out the best in a guy."

He sat back down heavily in his chair, leaving Panacea slumped in her puddle of cum.

Now all he had to do was get her back to the Undersiders, heal them up and walk her home. Then the real fun could start.

BURNING RAGE(?)

(Автор: dragonkid11)

And now I have a eternal boner of BURNING RAGE after reading that.

And then there's also you forgetting about the Thinker part of Amy's power that allow her to actually understand biology because body system of a human being very fucking complicated. Like need a Tinker power complicated.

So, Regent can't exactly control her power correctly.

That somehow managed to piss me even more.

Oh well, time to get fucked.


* * *

Amy: "Keep cumming, you cum bucket!" *Continued straddling Alec*

Alec: Argh!!! *Cum again for the nth times for the past 6 hours*

Victoria: "Amy, I know you are pent-up as hell. But my hand is REALLY getting tired from holding the camera!"

Amy: "Okay." *Rejuvenate her arm muscles* "Shouldn't you won't get tired from this at all? I meant, all the handjobs to Dean?"

Victoria: "No, I just do blowjob. Or with my tits." *Smiles at her*

Amy: "Hey you back there, don't slack off!" *Hummed back to Brain*

Brain: "Fuck you, Alec. What made you think this was a good idea!?!?" *Cum in her ass again for the nth times for the past 6 hours*

Victoria: "Just where did all this cum came from?" *Stared at the massive white cum spillage between Amy's legs.*

Amy: "Probably their fat...I think."

Victoria: "You think?"

Amy: "Yeah."

Victoria: "Remind me to not piss you off, that one time when you gave me a penis out of nowhere was fucking embarrassing."

Amy: "Heh, your safety short can barely handle it. And the face of Purity when you accidentally cum on her face was hilarious."

Victoria: "That's just-gonna cum Argh!" *Pushed her dick deep inside Lisa as she cum*

Lisa: "Hey, be gentle about it, and keep fucking! I haven't met my orgasm quota of the year!"

Crystal: "I'm gonna cum too-Argh!" *Cum inside Rachel's hot and wet snatch*

Rachel: "If you fuck harder then maybe I will feel something." *Was too busy watching cartoon to come*

Eric: "...So, my cousin is raping her rapist. My other cousin is fucking someone with her penis. My sister is also fucking someone with her penis but that girl looks bored as hell. And I'm masturbating to them. What are you doing here?"

Skitter: "...I was thinking about infiltrating this group to figure out who their secret boss was, but I guess I should just join the Ward now that this happened...I meant, how bad could it be compared to this?"

Later

Armsmaster: "Skitter, glad to see that you-" *Was divekicked by Miss Militia*

Miss Militia: "Since Armsmaster had done a terrific job in recruiting new Wards that didn't resulted in mass genocide or public indecency. I, Miss Militia, shall welcome you to the Ward!"

Weaver: "Holy crap this place looks nice and is not covered in cum everywhere!!!"

Shadow Stalker: "Taylor?"

Weaver: "Holy crap, someone I know is here! Hey, Sophia, how's going?"

Shadow Stalker: "...Miss Militia, can I still take that position in Madison containment base?"

Miss Militia: "Nope, you can't recommend yourself there, You know, M/S protocol and such."

Shadow Stalker: "...I'm fucked, am I?"

And then they really fucked.

Always The Quiet Ones

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

Sophia woke groggily in the dimly lit room. As she turned her head, the concrete walls entered her vision. When she attempted to adjust positions, the cold steel clasps rubbed agaisnt her limbs. Shifting into her shadow state, Shadow Stalker tried once again to slip pass the bonds attached to the slab that she was strapped to.

A scream rang out of Sophia's mouth as she found out that bindings were electrified. Pain filled her limbs and her vision clouded as she realized that who ever was her tormentor knew her weakness.

As Sophia's vision returned she saw the the brunette hair. The wide mouthed smirk.

"Ah Sophia, I see that you are finally awake."

"Madison, what the fuck is going on here."

"You and Emma kept so many secrets from me. That is all going to change now. I'll be in charge now."

"Let me go, you bitch," spat Shadow Stalker.

Madison approached a table filled with vials and medical equipment and picked up a jet injector and a contained of black liquid. The petite girl then loaded the liquid into the injector and walked back towards Sophia.

"For some reason my power needs a parahuman to make pokegirl that isn't a normal-type. Which is where Taylor, and now you come in. Taylor counted as a bug-type, and now you a dark-type. "

As Sophia screams profanity at the tinker, Madison placed the injector onto the black girl's shoulder and with a puff of air the liquid entered her body.

"Sleepy time little Sophie. When the potion has done its work, I'll wake and tame my new Fearleader. Emma and Taylor will get to meet their new sister."

It Is Always The Cute Ones.

A Girl And Her Symbiote

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

My first night out wasn't supposed to go like this. I didn't know what I had expected. Stop some crimes or help some. Just do something to prove that I am worth something to someone.

It an alley by the docks is where it spotted me. Even in the dark the silvery black creature was visible. Like a puddle of water the creature flowed around the the garbage can. The metal of it disappeared as it sunk beneath the waves of the liquid creature.

As it oozed along the metal bin, I could see from the dim street lights that parts of garbage can were simply gone. As I started to back away the living wave turned towards me. My feet were already in motion as the slime bunched up. Like a spring the creature launched itself at me.

The concrete sidewalk was a uncomfortable landing. The silk of the costume was being rapid dissolved as the slime started to cover my form. The shiny black substance was surprisingly warm to the touch. The gunk quickly spread into my mouth, cutting off my yells for help. Down the throat it flowed.

Further along the the substance crept, till there I was fully covered. There was nothing but darkness. It was still for a moment, then intense pain as millions of tiny needles pieced the skin. Deeper and deeper they pierced as the ooze pull tighter. I couldn't even scream, as it had blocked my throat.

Seconds, minutes, or hours. Time was simply agony.

Suddenly the pain stopped. I pushed agaisnt the sidewalk as I stumbled onto my feet. I could seen the sheen of the substance traced along my hand.

My entire body was still covered in the liquid monster.

Then I heard a voice in my head that wasn't my own.

'Taylor'

"Who are you?" came my studded reply.

'I don't know. All I remember was hunger. Mindless hunger until a glowing star appeared before me.'

"How do you know my name?"

'Your memories, I see all of them. I''m sorry for attacking you, I wasn't in control of myself them.'

Taylor's Bicycle Shorts

(Автор: JackKent)

Taylor had made enemies kneel before her, but never friends. And never between her legs.

Everett squatted on the carpeting, clad only in mesh shorts and a thin white t-shirt pasted to his muscles by sweat. The sight made the small of Taylor's back tingle — in a good way, for once. Everett had pried apart her knees with a tap of his finger, but even with her gawky height there hadn't been enough 'leg room' when Everett scooted forward. Now, she shifted uncomfortably. Taylor sat at an awkward angle, slumming on the low-rising sofa to give her ostensible team leader more room, a pair of pillows stuffed underneath her back for support.

Lurid bruises molted Taylor's legs: greens, yellows, purples. Spidersilk only softened blows, and she lived an energetic life. Everett kissed one of the worst bruises. As his lips lingered over the skin, his fingers massaged the back of her battered calf. It hurt, a little. His hot breath ghosted across her skin.

We should turn the lights off, Taylor wanted to say.

She had always done this sort of thing in the dark.

Flicking a light switch was one of the first tricks she had learned to do with her bugs, but it was the middle of the afternoon. Even if she shut the drapes in the next room the gloom would still be —

The feel of Everett's teeth biting softly into her knee drew Taylor out of her thoughts, but she didn't suck in her breath due to any pain. Their eyes met.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she... lied, maybe.

"We can stop."

"No."

"Okay."

They stayed still for a little while, staring at one another. It wasn't a demanding look on his part. Everett's hands stayed motionless, his chin propped up on her knee. Only the gentle exhalations of his moist breath played across her bare skin. She felt keyed up for a fight. The tightness in her muscles wouldn't unwind. But her nipples ached too.

"You got a condom?" she blurted, hoping for a 'no'.

It wasn't likely, after all. They had come upstairs from a sparring session still dressed in their workout clothes.

"No." The tension in her shoulders eased a little. "But I still really want to taste you on my tongue."

Taylor exhaled sharply. Pulling herself back onto the couch, she locked her legs together. Everett stayed on the floor where he was. Even in the low-lighting, it wasn't possible to miss the sizable lump in his dark mesh short. No practical joke on the newbie this time.

Everett held his palms up. "I'm not asking for you to, uh, return the favor. I know most girls don't go for that sort of thing. I just like giving head."

Taylor, heart racing, felt a blush heat her cheeks. The thought hadn't even occurred to her that things were going that way. She'd had fantasies, sure, but those had fizzled out a long time ago. She hadn't much been interested in boys until high school, and by that point she was socially radioactive. After she got her powers there had been too much to do. Even with Brian, ugly reality had its way of intruding into every facet of their time together. They had only been together-together four times. They hadn't ever explored each other.

She gestured vaguely to her crotch. "I'm not, uh..."

Please don't make me finish that sentence.

Everett smiled. "That's not really a problem for me."

Taylor said nothing.

"But I'm sensing it is for you." He nibbled on his lip. "You know... there's still a lot you can do through clothes."

"Really?" she heard herself say.

"Yeah."

Throat dry, Taylor Hebert picked one foot off the floor. She hooked her ankle onto Everett's shoulder. She spread her other knee wide, opening a pathway for him. "Prove it."

Determination set on his face, Everett leaned forward, hands going to her toned thighs, lips pressing against her bicycle shorts.

Taylor closed her eyes and didn't much worry about her looks for a while.

Madison's Journal

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

"The helpless girl writhed in her steel coffin, trying to escape the oppressive smell of blood and offal. Desperately she prayed.

"'Anyone!' She thought, 'Please, Anyone! I'll do anything, just get me out of this hell!'

"She didn't dare open her mouth for fear of tasting the noxious odor, but that did not mean her prayers were unheard.

"Far above, at the edge of the sky, the Queen of Birds stirred. With baleful intent, the Simurgh began her descent. The heroes of the world, complacent in the belief that the dreaded Ziz would not move again so soon, were unable to mount a resistance. And so, she was unimpeded on her b-line to Winslow High.

"Students and teachers alike screamed and ran before the oncoming catastrophe. Walls were torn to shreds on her inexorable flight until she came to a stop at one, filth filled locker.

"'H-hello?' The young girl called out meekly. 'Is anyone there? Please! I'll do any-'

"The girl was cut off by the sound of her metal prison being torn asunder. But her stark relief was cut short, replaced by a terrible dread at the sight of her fell savior. She had prayed for an angel but only Ziz replied. Cowed before the fearful titan, the pathetic wisp of a girl could only beg and weep.

"Uncaring of the filth that stained the waif, Ziz reached down to gently caress the tear stricken face and delicately laid a full kiss on the girl's lips. Surprised, Taylor could not resist the gentle probing of the Simurgh's tongue.

"'It's the Simurgh, but this feels so...' Taylor pushed away from the false angel. Disgusted with herself and frightened, she tried to scramble away, but the Endbringer held her tightly in a telekinetic grip. Force swirled around the girl, tearing the clothes and filth from her body.

"Alabaster fingers darted along the nude girl's form, exploring every crook and curve Taylor's body had to offer. With the kind of skill available only to one with knowledge of another's thoughts, Ziz carefully worked her captive to her first orgasm.

"'I said I would do anything for anyone, but this?' Taylor asked, hardly able to comprehend what was happening to her. Above the ruins of the school, news choppers began to circle like buzzards and she knew her first time cumming had been caught on tape. Ziz, however, gave her more to worry about than mere humiliation.

"The Simurgh's smallest finger was still the size of Taylor's forearm and was positioned at her virginal entrance. The moment she understood what was about to happen, Ziz pushed up and Taylor was a virgin no more.

"She screamed at the size of the foreign intrusion to her body. Ziz shoved deeper and Taylor stretched to her limit. Sure that she would break under the strain that the inhuman monster was putting on her, Taylor looked down to see the outline of Ziz's finger pushing up from beneath her abdomen. Ziz twitched gently, sending Taylor into a screaming orgasm that put the first to shame.

"With a wet squelch, Taylor popped off the Simurgh's finger. With great care, the Endbringer lowered the panting girl to the floor and-"

"What the fuck are you doing with my writing journal?!" Madison screamed at Emma.

"Really, Mads?" Sophia drawled. "You write porn about Taylor and the fuck mothering Simurgh and that's the first thing you say, not 'Please, don't hate me for being a traitor to humanity'?"

Madison blushed. "At least I don't start high beaming every time I push the geek around. Wear a god damn bra, bitch!"

"She has a point." Emma interjected while shamelessly paging through Madison's smut journal. "If you don't want the E88 goons to target you for being the butch black lesbian that picks on the scrawny white girl, you should probably hide your nipple boners."

"First; Fucking ew! Don't call it that! Second; Fuck both of you." Sophia retorted.

Emma smiled as Madison tried to retrieve her filthy, filthy smut but could not reach it while It was held it just above her reach. "Hun, I love you but you're not my type. I, theoretically, like dick."

"Give it back, you slut biscuit!" Madison commanded.

"Not on your life! This shit is gold!" Emma paused as she reread a section. "Did you write a story about Taylor domming Sophia?"

Madison and Sophia blushed even harder.

Mad, Mad Love

(Автор: wasntme)

Since nobody volunteered to my request to check my writing before I post it I'm going to do it without it. So here comes chapter one of my Madbeat/Taylor idea.


* * *

Part 1

"Oh! My hero!" Swooned the girl in his muscular arms, clinging tight to his chest, as he used his power to climb up the walls of a building. He vaulted over the edge and and set her down on the roof.

"I guess they don't be bothering you know, but just to be safe I can escort you home, if you wish." he said, trying to not stammer and be as heroic as possible in the gorgeous girl's presence. He forced himself not to stare as he took her looks in, her dark, rich curly hair was slightly messed up from the wind up here on the roof, and it's colour contrasted beautifully with her pale skin. As did her dark eyebrows, green eyes and her deep red lipstick on her soft kissable lips. Her hair continued to flow down in waves ending right below her shoulder blades except the few locks of hair that had fallen on her white blouse and her generous cleavage, which left the very top of her lacy black bra visible. Her assemble continued downward with a black pencil miniskirt, with black stockings going all the way up her long legs and a pair of stilettos on her feet. All she needed was a pair of glasses and she had the hot librarian look down to a t.

"Oh, thank you, you are a true hero," she fidgeted with her thick rimmed glasses."but however could I repay you?" she pouted. Then she started trailing her fingers down on his chest seductively.

"You don't need to, but ... ahm if you want, I have a few ideas." Then, with a thunder the rain started pouring, making them soaking wet and the girl's blouse see through.

"So do I." she answered with a wicked grin and pushed him with one arm, somehow making him fall down. She wasted no time getting on top of him and kissing him wildly.

"These wet clothes are getting in the way. Lets get rid of them, shall we?" she asked teasingly, and he could only nod in response. It was awkward getting out of his spandex on the floor, but somehow he managed to do it fast. Meanwhile the girl was down to her shoes and her lingerie, which in her case apparently meant her bra, her stockings, and a garter belt, as she was without her panties. Her pussy was already wet and not just from the rain. The last piece of clothing to leave his body was his boxers. Slowly she made a trail of kisses on his body towards his nether region. The only thing he was capable of doing was to just lie there and grunt, his mind has somehow lost the ability to form coherent thoughts. However the cruel woman that drove him to this state didn't stop, she sent a sultry smile his way as she reached his erect member and started licking and sucking at the base. Then she begun trailing her tongue up and down on it.

"Please!" he managed to get it out somehow between a moan and a whimper. She looked deep into his eye as she reached the top and then put the head into her mouth. Wile sucking it with her mouth, making circular motions with her head and licking the top with her tongue she also used her hands stroking his shaft. He tried to hold on and she found herself sitting up.

For a moment not knowing what was happening and where she was, Maddison's left hand searched and found the switch of the lamp on her bedside table. In the low light she recognised the familiar surroundings of her room and calmed down. She took out her right hand from under her pyjama pants. Somehow it found it's way there. In the low light it glinted from the wetness caused by her juices. Well at least I know why it was raining in my dream.

She stood up, taking care not to touch anything with her right as she made her way to the bathroom, pondering on the implications of her dream. She just dreamt about having sex with a woman, as a man mind you, but still. Does this made her a lesbian? No she thought to herself I'm a normal high school girl, who is cute, who is popular and has lots and lots of friends. Well not strictly normal. Going out at night as a male superhero was not normal, but since I have superpowers it is the responsible thing to do. And the male part is just to conceal my identity. After all who would think that cutesy little Madison Clements is the tall and muscular Browbeat?

Temporarily reassured of her sexuality, she entered the bathroom, locking the door and switching the light on (with her left hand). She made her way to the sink, trying to get rid of the images of her dream from her mind, looking at her reflection as she washed her hands. She shouldn't be dreaming about women, she should be fantasizing about muscles and abs and... and... what did women find attractive about men? Maybe she needed some visual aid. Luckily her power was able to provide that. With her biokinesis she was able to take up multiple forms, and could recall and visualize them in her mind. She brought forth the image but suppressed the change so she had the muscular form of Browbeat clearly in the forefront of her mind.

Okay, what do I want? What do I find attractive? She tried to focus on those questions. Browbeat had two forms, one which she used to fight, large and overly muscular, maybe even bit too much, and one to run and jump around the rooftops, with a body of a runner, instead of a body-builder. She looked over the later body, since it was the more realistic. Reaching her alterego's genitals in thought, she winced at the memory of how hard it was to get it right, how she at first made it too big to move around with, luckily a bit of research helped her find a more realistic size. However it also gave her an idea. Fantasizing about cocks would make it clear that she was straight, after all neither did lesbians, nor did their partners had penises. Not that she knew what did lesbians do, and she was not a bit curious about it. None at all.

The image of a large cock firmly in her mind, she imagined it being stroked, growing larger as it got more and more attention from some imaginary woman. She imagined her as a busty blonde, giving a blowjob... no a titjob to it. As images of her squeezing her boobs together to better stroke the penis in her mind came forefront of her mind, she lost her concentration and felt herself starting to shift forms. Panic quickly drove the fantasies out, but the damage was done. Feeling a strange sensation from between her legs she pulled her pyjama pants down, and found herself face to face with an erect penis. She quickly checked herself in the mirror and found her face looking back at her, mouth slightly agape from the surprise.

She changed herself into a shemale, or she thought it was called, she didn't actively looked for it, she just stumbled upon it when looking for porn, out of curiosity of course. She looked at the erect penis in her hand and her mind started to wonder about how it would feel to have an orgasm as a man. She was still a virgin, but she masturbated before. However all the time she turned into Browbeat she never thought about trying it, but now, holding her erection (and what a strange thought that was) and sexually frustrated by her dream it was a hard thought to resist. Lust and curiosity won over the strangeness of the situation. She started to slowly stroke the new appendage, savouring sensations she never experienced before. The rhythm of the stroking slowly increased as memories of her dream resurfaced. She imagined the girl moving her hips, her pussy going up and down her (his?) penis. Madison imagined the girls boobs swaying up and down with her movements. Her other hand not stroking her cock found its way to her nipples, and started rubbing the left one. She imagined the girl sucking on them as she completely forgot her worries about her sexuality for the moment and gave herself to her fantasies. It didn't take much time for her to orgasm, a pulsing sensation went through her cock, then it started pumping out cum. The orgasm was very different from what she experienced before, but not weaker or less enjoyable. The first two landed on the bathroom floor before she could react. Her limbs felt like jelly, but she managed to put her hand on the tip to stop the cum landing on the floor. However it didn't last long as the sticky goo started leaking form between her fingers. The delicate girly hands on the massive erect cock presented a surreal image, but not more than her mirror, which shoved the cute and innocent Madison Clements with cum leaking from her cock.

Madison however strange the situation seemed, didn't feel disturbed or weirded out, she felt content, relived and above all satisfied. Maybe a little bit ashamed when she looked at the cum on the floor. I definitely need to clean that up she thought, just as the door to the bathroom rattled violently.

"OW!" for a moment panic gripped Madison, but soon she remembered that she locked the bathroom door.

"Who's there?" the loud voice of her sister, shook her out of her inactivity and she franticly started to clean up the floor with toilet paper, while desperately trying to concentrate to making her dick disappear.

"A moment." She called out, trying to stall.

"Sis, is that you? You better not be fingering yourself!" she could hear her grin as she said that. While saying her sister was a not a morning person before her coffee was a gross understatement, hitting the bathroom door head on probably woke her up enough to start her hobby of being as annoying as humanly possible.

"Mara!" she called out in outrage, frightened by how close she was to the truth.

"Or, oh, you better not be sick because you're pregnant." she continued.

"Shut up Mara!" said Madison, all to aware that snapping like that only made her sister grin more.

Reality Shifting

(Автор: JackKent)

Reality!Shifter Taylor:

So, the idea here is that Taylor ostensibly had the ability to transform her appearance. Basic shapeshifter powerset; no power copying, just morphing. She figures it out in the hospital, tools around a bit, gets dizzy, stops. When she gets home, and finally has some alone time, Taylor goes into the bathroom and — with just a tiny pinch of self-hatred — gives herself a boob job. Just to see how it looks (amazing) and feels (hurts her back). Then, still transformed, she goes back to her room to get dressed...

...and all her bras fit her racktastic transformation. All her other clothes do, too. No more skinny boy t-shirts for her. Weirder still, her older clothes from junior high fit a girl with smaller boobs... but still, one with more boobs than Taylor ever had at any age.

With a flash of insight, Taylor adjusts her waistline, giving herself hips and a nicer butt. Her vision swims — when she can refocus, her closet has miraculously changed. New clothes. All of them fit. Because Taylor, you see, isn't just a body Shifter. She's a reality-Shifter. If she gives herself boobs, she has always had those boobs. She grew into them, over time, like a normal girl going through puberty. Her wardrobe changes. Her handwritten records about bullying reflect new incidents where Emma's friends call Taylor a slut for having cow titties. Sometimes boys have (apparently) groped her in the hallway.

Now Taylor can, with experimentation, not just make her life better but her past retroactively better as well.

But how far can Taylor Hebert change herself, change history, before she doesn't recognize the girl in the mirror?

Immaculate

(Автор: Angush)

Smack!

"Ow!"

"You need to stop freaking out," a girl said.

I spun to face my attacker. "Li — What — " I stopped and gave her my best glare. "I'm not freaking out."

"Oh, really? Okay. So your room always looks like this?"

I looked around, glancing over the clothes and books strewn about my bedroom floor.

"I didn't think so."

"Okay," I said. "I may have gone a little overboard. Not the same as freaking out."

"Taylor," Lisa started, tilting her head at me, one eyebrow raised. "I was standing in your doorway for a good minute before you noticed me, and — "

"You could've let me know you were there earlier. Y'know, some other way."

"I did jumping jacks and yodelled."

"You... you didn't actually, right?"

"No. But you wouldn't have noticed if I had."

I grumbled something unintelligible at her. "So you decided — "

"My power did."

"Your power told you to smack me on the ass?"

She shrugged.

"And that was, what, the most efficient way to get my attention?"

"Yeah. Well, no, but it was the most fun one."

"You — "

"Anyway! The point is — " she put her fists on her hips " — I heard what you were saying to yourself, and you were definitely freaking out. It's only Friday! Semester doesn't start for three days yet."

I held my glare for a few more moments, then sighed. "The entrance ceremony is tomorrow, though. Three o'clock." I sat down and grimaced as my backside twinged. "Did you have to do it so hard?"

"Nope." She popped the `p' and grinned her usual grin. "Just felt like it."

"Right," I sighed again. I closed my eyes and leaned back until my head was against the wall.

I lounged there for a minute or two, Lisa allowing the silence.

"It won't be anything like Winslow, you know," she finally said, her voice somber.

"I know. I just — "

"Yeah, I get it. Bad experiences."

I chuckled.

"But Immaculata will be different. I can guarantee that."

"Really?" I sat up and looked at her. "How?"

She grinned again, then pulled a folder out of her bag, sat down next to me, and opened it on her knees.

I shuffled closer and leaned in. "Wha — " Is that...? No. No way. "You — "

"Yup." Her grin was almost splitting her face now. "I'll be transferring in with you."

"You — Why?"

"Because you're my friend. Duh."

"But you... you've got your GED already, don't you?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Easy enough to get rid of it. I cheated anyway."

"But — I can't make you — "

"Taylor!" Lisa said, her expression turned serious, her hands gripping the sides of my head. "Stop. You're my closest friend, okay? I cheated my way out of school in the first place because there was no reason for me to be there, not because I hated it — not exactly. I just had more important things to do. But that's different now, okay? You're my most important thing. You're my reason. And what that means, is that I'm going to go to school with you, because I want to go to school with you."

I stared into her green eyes. She stared back.

I felt myself gulp. I didn't know what to say. I half felt like crying, and my damned heart wouldn't stop pounding in my throat.

"We clear?"

I nodded.

Lisa grinned again. "Great!" she said, jumping to her feet. "Now..." She snapped the folder shut and put it back in her bag, then grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. "I still think you need to cut loose."

"Cut loose?"

"Yup. Y'know, relax. Have some fun. I can tell you're still worrying. Maybe... oh! Maybe we ought to wash your sorrows away." The last part she said in a sing-song voice.

"Wha — You mean, like, alcohol?"

"Yup."

"Like a bar? That doesn't seem very saf — "

"Ah, we can just go somewhere private. Doesn't have to be a bar. So?"

She looked at me expectantly.

"Err... so what?"

"Do you want to give it a try? I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do."

I looked at her. It was happening again. I didn't know what to say, and there was an inexplicable lump in my throat.

Lisa just stood there, holding my hand in hers and smiling gently, her green eyes twinkling. I knew she wasn't lying. She'd never make me do something I truly didn't want to do. And she was patient. Clearly. She had to be, dealing with me.

I swallowed. "Okay. Let's go."

Lisa laughed and squeezed me in a brief hug, then dragged me out of the room.


* * *

Armed with pepper spray and batons in case of emergency, our first stop of the night was a bottle shop on the boardwalk. Lisa led me in with a confident swagger to her step and a grin to match, talked with the cashier guy for a minute, then grabbed a bottle of vodka from the top shelf.

She slipped the guy an extra twenty when we checked out. He smiled and wished us a good night, and we went hunting for a good spot. My bugs combed the area, both for somewhere private and for any miscreants looking to ruin our fun. Lisa hooked her arm with mine, her other arm swinging in time with the little tune she hummed as we walked.

We eventually stopped at an abandoned factory by the boardwalk and climbed the fire escape to the roof. My bugs told me the only active people nearby were a few hobos sharing drinks in an alley the next street over. Weird parallel. Lisa climbed onto one of those air conditioner blocks, whatever they are, and pulled me up to join her. We sat facing west, the last dredges of sunset mingling with the clouds over the bay.

She popped the cap off the vodka and took a whiff of it, scrunching her nose. "Smells strong." She raised an eyebrow at me and grinned. "You wanna go first, or me?"

I took a deep breath, took the bottle from her hands, and brought it to my lips.


* * *

"It's not that funny," I said, shooting a glare at Lisa, which only made her laugh harder. I put the bottle down on the AC unit to pull my hoodie off, soaked the way it was, and let it drop to the ground. Apparently guzzling vodka on your first try isn't the best idea.

Lisa's laughter faded to periodic giggles, and she splayed out on her back with a sigh.

I tried the vodka again — just a sip this time. It went down much easier. Physically speaking. Didn't taste particularly good, though, and it set me to coughing. Lisa sat up and laughed at me again, then reached out and took a drink herself. She coughed worse than I did.

"Fuck me," she growled as I laughed. "That's awful." She took another sip. "I can't believe people drink this."

I looked at her. "Wait, you mean you haven't done this before?"

"Nope," she said. "I occasionally had some champagne or wine when my parents had guests over, but that's the extent of my experience." She took another sip, grimaced, then handed the bottle back to me. "This is as new for me as it is for you."

"Huh. So, uh..." I rolled the bottle in my hands. "This isn't going to, like, mess us up or anything, right? We'll be okay for the entrance ceremony tomorrow?"

"I assume so. I asked the cashier dude for advice. He said this'd be plenty for a pair of girls as `skinny and green' as us. His words. Didn't mention anything about hangovers. Should be fine. Ceremony isn't 'til the afternoon, anyway."

I nodded slowly, then took a drink and passed it back, setting a routine for the night.

Lisa took her own sip and grimaced again. "Provided we can even stomach this shit, of course," she said with a wry smile. I snorted. She had a point.

We settled back to watch the sun set.

"What was the twenty for?" I asked, after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Huh?"

"The twenty. The one you gave to the cashier, after you paid."

"Oh. Well, we are teenagers. Technically, selling to us is a crime. Had to convince him some way."

"That only took twenty bucks?"

She grinned. "And a little relationship advice."

"Ah," I said. "Of course, a little thinker-fu. Was it really necessary, though? Don't you have a fake ID?"

"Yeah, but it says I'm seventeen. Can't fake being twenty-one. Not without a lot of makeup and prep time."

"You could pay someone to do you up. Not like we're short on funds. And Panacea does owe us a favour."

Lisa laughed. "Like we'd call that one in for this. Never know what we'll need in the future. And we've got more important things to spend our money on. Like — "

"Cleaning up the docks!"

"I... was gonna say paying for our tuition, but that works too."

It was my turn to laugh. "How'd you even get into Immaculata, anyway?"

"Uh, hello?" She waved a hand in front of my face. "We own a criminal empire, remember?"

I stared at her, reasonably sure my incredulity was showing on my face. "You used Coil's contacts? To get yourself into high school?"

"Yup," she said, grinning again. "Even rigged it so we'll be in the same classes."

"What? How does that work? You're a year older than me."

"Well..." She leaned in conspiratorially. "Apparently, little miss Lisa Wilbourn was a bit of a troublemaker in middle school." She winked at me. "Missed half her classes, wound up having to repeat eighth grade. Incidentally, she also owes about four hundred bucks in library late fees."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. That's why I said incidentally."

"Right," I chuckled, taking another sip of vodka and grimacing. The taste hadn't improved. "That won't cause any problems when you start getting straight A's, I imagine?"

"Pshaw. Being smart and being punctual are totes different things."

"Ah, yes. And you're only good at one of those."

"Hey!" She mock-scowled for a moment, then smiled, taking the bottle from me again. "I resemble the implication."


* * *

"Hey, hey, Taylor." I ignored her, even when she started poking me in the ribs. "Taylor." She leaned in close, her mouth right next to my ear. I could feel her breath against my hair. "Tayloooooooor."

"Shush," I said. "I'm trying to — hic — shit."

Lisa started giggling again. She'd been doing that a lot this past hour. "You should do that in the toilet."

"That's — hic — gross," I said, holding back giggles of my own. "I'm trying to con-concentrate."

"What're you even dooo — dooooo — " She paused, blinking. "Err, doing?"

"I — hic — dammit. I'm trying to make a statue for you. Of you? One of — hic — one of those."

"Out of bugs?" she said. I glanced over at her — she had her brow furrowed in confusion, and her head tilted a fraction to the side, golden bangs brushing her freckled face. I had a sudden overwhelming urge to hug her and tussle her hair. Adorable little minx.

I turned back to the writhing mass of bugs. "They're making a — hic — a base. O-out of — hic — out of — "

"BOO!"

I jumped and immediately lost any semblance of balance. Arms wheeling, I knocked the vodka off the AC unit, then fell off with it and landed on the roof, staring up at the stars. Glass shattered. "Ow."

Lisa poked her head out above me, eyes wide. "A-are you okay?"

I patted myself down and smiled with as much exasperation as I could muster. Probably wasn't much. "I'm fine."

Lisa's expression softened. "That's good."

"Did I break the thing?" I said.

"Yeah. But who cares. It tasted like shit anyway." She brought her hands up as fists and rested her cheeks against them, smiling slightly. "Still got the hiccups?"

We waited for a minute, just looking at each other. Then another.

"Guess not," she said, her smile widening.

I laughed, and she laughed, and I knew my face matched hers.


* * *

"I dunno, Taylor," Lisa said as I tugged her into the parlour. "I mean, I don't mind or anything, but tattoos are supposed to hurt, right?"

"I think so," I said. "But they can't be too bad. If they hurt too much, people wouldn't get them."

Lisa raised an eyebrow at me as we approached the lady behind the desk, who was reading a magazine propped on her knees. "I think you're under — under — ugh, underestimating what people will put up with."

"Oh, I know exactly what people will put up with," I said, turning and sticking my tongue out at her.

"Har har," Lisa said, smirking and taking another swig from our bottle. The lady behind the counter looked up as we stopped in front of her.

"Do you take walk ins?" I asked.

The lady nodded and explained the procedure to us while the tattooist prepped his tools. We described what we wanted and where we wanted it, and I even did some little sketches on a piece of paper the tattooist gave me. He led us into the back room and sat me down, hunched over and facing the back of the chair, then got to work while Lisa hovered around me.

The guy seemed impressed by my pain tolerance, and soon enough it was Lisa sat in the chair, holding my hand in a death grip, scowling, and alternating between biting her lip, groaning, calling me a `cheating cheater who cheats' under her breath, and cursing like an angry sailor, all while I giggled uncontrollably.

Truly a woman of many talents.


* * *

"S-should we be d-doing this?" I whisper-giggled. Damn cold, making me giddy.

"Why are you whispering?" Lisa whispered back, fiddling with the shop's sign. "There's no-one else here, and C — err, CCTV doesn't do audio. Not these ones, anyway."

"It just seems, uh, appropriate. Y-you didn't answer my q-question."

Lisa stopped fiddling with the sign and turned to look at me. Putting one hand on the wall to stop her wobbling, she said, "You're freezing to death, T."

"I'm f-f-fine. Still d-doesn't answer my q-question. We're g-gonna be heroes, r-remember? Should we really be b-breaking into c-costume shops?"

Lisa waved her other hand, something small and shiny between her fingers. "It's not breaking in when you have a key," she said with a grin, which faltered after a moment. "Err, maybe." She turned back to the door.

"M-ma-ma — Fuck's sake. Maybe?"

"Maybe." There was a click, and she pushed the door open and pulled me in. "Now c'mon, let's find somefi — err, something warm for you to wear."

"O-okay," I said, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. "But no s-stealing, okay? We're supposed to be heroes now."

"Nuh-uh. Skitter and Tattle-Tat-Tattletale are heroes now," Lisa said. "Or whatever we change our names to. Nobody cares what Taylor and Lisa do. Besides, the press release isn't 'til next month, so te-technically, we're still villains. Might as well make the most of it. For old times' sake."

"S-still. No stealing."

Lisa smiled and squeezed my shoulder. "No stealing."


* * *

"Taylor!" Lisa hissed from somewhere behind me. "Check — check this one out. It looks just like the Immaculata uniforms. But, y'know, not. And, uh, sexier."

I couldn't bring myself to respond, or even to turn around. I just stood, staring at the costume in front of me, the label helpfully proclaiming it as the `slutty teacher' outfit.

"Taylor?"

I felt like crying. Stupid. I shouldn't feel that way. It wasn't something an actual professor would wear, probably. Not unless she was about to have sex with someone. And even then! It was just a stupid outfit in the adult section of a costume shop. Absolutely nothing to cry over.

"T?" I heard Lisa move up behind me, then felt her arms slide around my shoulders. Her voice was soft. Gentle. "You okay?"

I turned in her arms and buried my head in her neck. Much as I tried, I couldn't stop my shoulders from shaking.

I felt her head move, then she slowly knelt down, guiding me down to the floor, where she wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tight while I cried. Her arms rubbed up and down my back in slow, circular motions as she whispered in my ear. Things like "It's okay," and "I'm here," and "Don't worry." Little nonsense comforts that, strangely enough, actually did make me feel better.

I lay like that for a while after I'd calmed down, just... enjoying it. The proximity. The feeling of... closeness... to another person. To Lisa. She rubbed my back some more, and nuzzled my hair. It was... nice.

"Sorry," I said, sniffling a bit, my voice soft.

"For what?" Lisa's voice matched mine. She didn't stop nuzzling my hair.

"I... got your jacket messy."

She laughed. I felt it through her chest. A hand came up to stroke my hair, and when she spoke, I could hear her smile. "We're in a costume shop, silly."

I giggled, but it came out choked and ruined by my need to sniffle some more.

"Are you okay now?" she said.

I nodded.

"Do you want me to get up?"

I shook my head.

She chuckled softly, said, "Alright," and continued rubbing my back.


* * *

"Lisa?" I said, having just put the final piece of the teacher costume into my bag. I wasn't really sure why I'd taken it, but I had. And all the... accessories, too. I'd literally just grabbed everything on the rack and stuck it all in a big, without really looking at all.

Lisa glanced at me, but didn't stop packing away the outfit she'd grabbed. She hadn't told me what it was, but I knew it was also from the adult section, and it was `thematically appropriate'. "Hmm?"

"Uh, it's just... you said earlier, when you told me you were transferring to Immaculata with me, you said, uh, you know..."

She raised an eyebrow at me and smiled. "Gonna have to give me a little more to work with, Taylor."

I felt my cheeks heat up a little. "Sorry. Uh, you said I..." It was happening again: my heart was in my throat. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and it calmed down. A little. "You said I was your m-most important, uh, thing."

She finished packing her new costume away and tied the bag shut, then turned to me. "I did."

"D-did you mean that?"

She smiled. "Of course I did, Taylor. Never underestimate what you mean to me."

I tackled her, wrapping my arms around her and squeezing as hard as I could without hurting her.

She oof'd, then laughed. "What's this for?"

"Y-y-you're my most important thing, too," I said. I hated how much my voice shook. How hard that was to say. "I... I l-love you, S-Sarah."

She was quiet for a long, long moment. Then I felt her arms slide around my back as she returned the hug. "I love you, too, Taylor," she said, her voice a whisper. I thought I heard a sniff.

We stayed like that for a while.

"You know," Lisa said, her smile audible again, "this whole thing's gonna look really weird when they check the security footage tomorrow."

I laughed.


* * *

We grabbed our stuff, left a few hundreds in the till, and caught a late-night bus back to my house. Carefully avoiding the broken step, I fetched the spare key from the light fixture by the window and unlocked the door for Lisa and I. We tiptoed in, one pair of hands joined to keep us together, and the other pair held out wide to avoid bumping into anything, and made our way —

Bump.

I started giggling. Then Lisa started giggling. I swatted her shoulder and tried to hiss the word `stop,' but it came out as a garble, and she just swatted me back, leaving us with no line of defence.

A few minutes later, when the giggles had worked themselves out, we picked ourselves up off the floor and tiptoed up to my room. Dad had, thankfully, not woken up, despite our terrible stealth skills.

Lisa grinned at me the second the door was closed. I saw the moonlight from the window glinting off her teeth. "Sit down," she said, pointing at my bed.

I sat, depositing the bag with the slutty teacher outfit beside my bed. "What — "

"Shush," she said, grabbing her costume bag and holding it up. "This is going to be fun. I'm going to go in there — " she pointed at the bathroom " — and put this outfit on. And while I'm doing that, you're going to put your outfit on. Then we'll have a little fashion show, of sorts." I saw her grin widen. "Okay?"

"Uh, okay." Memories of mock fashion shows with Emma arose, but I pushed them back down. Not the time.

"Great!" she said, then entered the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Quietly.

I looked down at the bag I'd taken from the costume shop, seeing the outlines of the outfit stretching against the bag's crappy plastic. I switched my bedside lamp on, the warm glow casting long shadows about the room, and emptied the bag onto my bed.

Picking through the pile, I set aside the actual pieces of the outfit — the bra, panties, babydoll — at least, I thought it was a babydoll — jacket, skirt, stockings and... and the garterbelt, apparently. All of it in lacy black. There was a corset, too, and a small, red tie and a set of heels, but there was no way I'd be putting those on. I had no idea how to tie a tie anyway.

I set aside the frilly handcuffs and the... riding crop? Or was it a whip? Whatever it was, I put it under my bed. I'd figure out what to do with it later. I picked up another item, something long, thick, and flexile, with ridges along the sides and a bulbous — oh. Oh my. That one went as far beneath my bed as I could reach.

Reasonably sure my cheeks were on fire, I just shoved the rest of the pile under my bed, too, and got changed. Underwear first — though, of course, the bra was a bit big for me, so I just left it out. Stockings next — they went up to my thighs — then the garterbelt, which was tricky to attach properly, and forced me to peruse the instruction sheet that came with the set.

After that I slid the babydoll on, and I was just starting to do up the skirt when the bathroom door opened. I glanced up and froze.

Lisa was standing in the bathroom doorway, wearing a pair of white knee-high socks and a criminally short red-and-black checkered skirt that left the supple curves of her legs on open display. The kind where if she bent too far in any direction, her panties would be visible to the world. My heart leapt into my throat again, and I felt a flush warm my face. I tore my gaze upwards.

She also sported a white top that was tied in a knot between her breasts, and left plenty of space below to show off her modest abdominals. There was a triangular cleft cut in the collar, showing off the edges of her red brassiere, and the cleavage it supported. The shirt wasn't entirely opaque, either, and I could see the rest of the bra beneath it — equally as lacy as the bra that I... was not wearing. My hands rose unbidden to cover my chest, and I forced myself to look up again, at her face.

Her hair was done up in pigtails, with little red ribbons adorning either side. Her cheeks were flushed red beneath her freckles, much as I imagined my own cheeks were — though it was hard to tell with the dim lighting my lamp offered. And she was staring at me.

I met her eyes. They were very green. And very pretty. My heart was pounding so hard, I wouldn't have been surprised if sweat had been beading on my brow.

I don't quite know how long we stared at each other, but the silence was eventually broken when she cleared her throat and looked away.

"Uh," she said, inspecting the ceiling. "You, uh... you look, uh, really good... in that. The, uh, sexy teacher thing s-suits you."

I hadn't thought I could blush any more than I already was. "T-thanks," I said. "T-that one looks good on you, too. Is it, uh..."

"Sexy schoolgirl, yeah," she said. "It k-kinda looks like the Immaculata uniform, doesn't it? Y'know, m-minus the jacket. And the, uh, modesty."

I giggled again, and Lisa gave a lopsided smile.

"O-oh!" she said, eyes widening and snapping toward me. "Fashion show! Right."

"Uh, I w-wasn't actually done," I said. "Getting dressed, I mean. The bra that came with mine didn't fit — " I saw her gaze flick down toward my chest for a moment " — and I — "

"That's fine!" Lisa blurted. She blinked, then frowned. "I mean, uh, I — I'll go first. Then y-you can go in there — " a vague gesture toward the bathroom " — and finish up." She bit her lip. "I-if that's... okay... with you."

I looked down at my knees and took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I didn't know why they were acting up, but... "S-sure."

"O-okay. Um, one sec."

I heard the door close, and looked up just as it opened again. This time, Lisa stepped out with a confident sway to her hips. She sashayed around in a little circuit around my room, hands on her hips, then stopped in front of me and struck a pose: her hips jutted out to one side while the rest of her body leaned in the opposite direction, one hand on her hip, the other sliding up her body to her chin, where she put one finger to the corner of her mouth and bit her lip. Stereotypically sexy.

I blinked. "Uh, v-very nice."

She blushed and dropped the pose. "I'm not very good at this, am I?"

"What?" I said, frowning. "No! I liked it, really."

Lisa bit her lip again, this time more nervous than sexy. "Um... do you want me to try a different one?" I nodded. "Okay. Um... tell me if it's sexy, yeah?" I nodded again, and she smiled.

She spun around on one foot, and brought her hands up to her hair. She pulled the ribbons out, both at once, letting her hair cascade down around her shoulders like it did when she was in costume as Tattletale, then shook her head like she was in a mosh pit. She wiggled a bit and ran her hands through her hair, messing it up in a sultry fashion. Then she pressed her chest up against the wall and stuck her butt out, looking over her shoulder at me and biting her lip again in a way that screamed sex.

I sat there, staring at her, scanning her body up and down. Lisa looked at me expectantly.

"Oh, right," I said. "Uh, that one was good. Very sexy."

She grinned, and did another pose, this one with her hair raked back into a semblance of order, and both hands holding out the hem of her skirt, as if she were curtsying. Of course, with a skirt that short, a curtsey was basically flashing. Her panties weren't quite visible from where I was sitting, but they probably would have been if I wasn't so tall.

"T-that one's good too," I said. "I think the second one was best, though. I like the messy hair."

Lisa didn't seem to hear me. She certainly didn't respond, or give any sign of acknowledgement.

"Uh, Lisa?"

Her eyes snapped up from the floor to my face, and she swallowed visibly, then glanced back at my feet. I looked down to see what had her so distracted, and froze, my breath catching in my throat. The plastic, uh... male appendage from the slutty teacher bag had rolled out from under my bed, now lying in plain view. And Lisa was staring at it.

My blush deepened. "Uh, that's, uh, that was in my bag," I said, then immediately winced. That made it sound like I carried it around everywhere! "The bag from the costume store, I mean. I t-think it was on one of the shelves I cleared." I bent down and pushed it back under my bed. "D-don't worry about it."

As soon as it was out of sight, Lisa turned her eyes up to my face again, staring at me intently. "Um, right. A-anyway, w-what did you think of that pose?"

"Uh, I t-told you already. It was good. But n-not as good as the second one."

"Oh, sorry," she said. "Um, why wasn't it as good?"

I blushed. "I, uh, I really liked the messy hair thing. I don't know why."

Lisa blinked. "You liked that?" she said. "O-okay. Um, can I try something else?" I nodded, and she stepped up close to me, her bare stomach near enough to touch. She ran her hands through her hair, messing it up again, then slid her hands down her body slowly as she started gyrating her hips in long, slow motions. Her hands crawled down her sides, slowing at her chest to press her breasts together.

She altered her circular movements so that her chest was right in my face, her breasts pressed together in such a way that made her cleavage grab the attention. She breathed deeply and slowly, her breasts rising and becoming even more prominent as she did so, then exhaled at the same speed, causing her breasts to fall again. Her gyrating continued, and one hand wandered up to her hair, twisting and tossing it as she turned her head, eyes closed, while the other rubbed and caressed her breasts over her clothes.

"Sexy?" she asked, and I realised that not only had I been staring, but I'd forgotten to breathe. I nodded numbly, breathing in, glancing up at her. Her eyes were open now, locked on my face, and she smiled. "How sexy?"

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "V-very." My voice was husky.

Her smile grew. "Good." She continued her spiralling hip movements, turning around and thrusting her butt right up into my face. I saw her shiver, just barely, as my breath brushed against the small of her back. She crouched lower, her legs spreading wide, hands on her knees, and twisted and wiggled, grinding her butt into my lap.

My breath caught again, and I couldn't help but groan. She was sexy, I realised. And I... I think I was getting turned on. Maybe she was, too? I could only hope.

I saw her look over her shoulder at me, a smirk playing about her lips as she ground her butt into my lap again. "Like that?" she breathed, a sultry whisper. I nodded distractedly. "How about this?" I could hear her grin in her voice.

She stopped grinding into me and stood, then started gyrating her hips again. She hooked her fingers in the waist of her skirt and tugged it down on one side, just a fraction. A twist of her hips and a short bout of wiggling later, she tugged it down a little more. I couldn't seem to draw my attention away. My eyes were glued to her behind.

Another slow gyration, quickening when her hips neared me and slowing when they pulled away, and a sudden sharp pain told me I'd been biting my lip. She tugged her skirt down again, and I spotted a slim red band stretching across her waist. I breathed in sharply through my teeth. T-that was part of her p-panties. It had to be.

Another turn and wiggle, the dim light from my lamp casting tiny, soft shadows across the barely perceivable muscles of her arms and legs, shifting, undulating and rippling subtly every time she moved. Another tug; more revealed. Her panties hugged her butt tightly, curving inward from the moment they left the waistline. Another spiralling wiggle, another tiny tug. Belatedly, I noticed my breathing was shaky, now. Had been for a while. I felt a warm pleasure begin to build up in my stomach.

Then Lisa began a slow, agonizing twist; her hips gyrating in a long, slow circle as she bent over, her thumbs all the while pulling her skirt down at a matching speed. It tore a moan from my throat. Bending almost horizontal and spreading her legs just a fraction, she thrust her butt toward me as she reached the peak of her turn, and her fingers yanked her skirt all the way off. My eyes followed it as it slid down her legs, stopping halfway down her thighs. I jerked my gaze back up to her ass.

She was wearing a thong.

Something inside me broke.

"Lisa." The name escaped my lips: a breathy whimper, my voice even shakier than before. "P-please."

She turned — slowly — and stared at me. She took a hesitant step, then another, then sat on my knees and slid her arms loosely around my neck. I shivered at the touch of her skin, and I felt her shiver, too. My eyes were glued to her chest — more specifically, her breasts, still held by her shirt and lacy red brassiere, rising and falling as she breathed deep breaths. It was... mesmerising. Tantalizing.

She shifted a little, and my gaze slid down to her taut, perfect stomach, and her hips. Her thong covered her... her p-pussy... but only just. A tiny tuft of blonde hair poked out of the waistline. I wanted to... I wasn't sure. I wanted to see it. Properly, without anything in the way, but... what then? Only then did I realise I'd had a hand in my own panties, rubbing myself weakly, fingering my wetness — even now, with the object of my desire sitting on my lap. I withdrew it quickly.

I heard her gulp. "Please what?" she breathed, right into my ear. I shivered again, and tore my eyes away from her body. She had pulled back a ways, and she was staring at me again, her eyes so huge and so close and so green and so... intent. I met her gaze with my own, and this time I saw her gulp, saw her nibble her lower lip with her teeth, saw her breathe.

"P-please," I whimpered again. I wanted to say something else. Anything else. But I didn't seem able to. When I opened my mouth, only that one word came out. I raised my hands to her cheeks. My arms were shaking. A lot. I caressed her face with my thumbs, leaving a barely noticeable track of my secretions on her cheek. She turned into my hands, almost nuzzling them, the way she'd nuzzled my head earlier in the night.

I stared into her eyes. She stared back.

"P-please w-what?"

I kissed her.

I didn't know what I was doing, but I did it anyway. Closing my eyes, I ran one hand into her hair, gripping the back of her head as loosely as I could manage in my current, admittedly less-than-rational state. My other hand slid down her body, pausing only to squeeze her breast for a moment, then continuing down to snake around her butt and grip it tight.

I pulled her into me fast, and felt her hands do to my body what mine were doing to hers. I moaned into her mouth as she brushed my nipples through the babydoll. Her tongue slid between my lips, and I sent mine to reciprocate. We probably weren't very good kissers — not compared to people with actual experience — but fuck. That didn't matter at all. Not when it felt this fucking good!

Our tongues entwined in our mouths, twisting and probing sensually. Her taste was sweet and sour both at once, with a hint of vodka permeating it all. I felt her breath against my cheek. Felt our noses and chins bump into one another as we twisted our heads. Felt her hands run rampant across my back, caressing and rubbing my body frantically, aimlessly, wonderfully. She bucked her hips forward to meet mine. My hands tightened their grips on her ass and neck. I heard her moan, and felt it on my lips. It did something to me.

I felt her fingers curl and dig into my back, almost painfully, as her hands shook. Her tongue curled within my mouth. I realised my fingers and my tongue were doing the same thing.

Then we pulled apart — with a sharp intake of breath on both sides. Lisa's lips were slightly parted, her jaw twitching every few moments, her chest heaving with the fast, short breaths that would not be out of place on a girl who had just run a mile. My hands were still shaking where they gripped her body — one hand dropped from her head to her shoulder when we pulled apart. I was breathing just as hard as she was. And I felt her hands shaking, too, from their places on my hips.

A thin strand of spit stretched between our open lips, translucent and wobbly. Her cheeks were flushed a deep, deep red.

I barely noticed any of it.

My eyes were locked on Lisa's, just as hers were locked on mine. Those glorious, wonderful eyes, so impossible in their beauty, their vibrancy, their perfection.

I wanted to stare into them forever. I wanted to pull her close and kiss her again; harder, and for longer. I wanted to tear the clothes from her body and give it the worship it so richly deserved. I wanted to push her down and make her mine. I wanted so many things.

And I didn't know what to do.

The adrenaline drained, just enough for my mind to catch up. Was I meant to say something? This... this was a big moment. Our relationship would never be the same, after this. Would it? I didn't know. It terrified me. And apparently, I liked girls. And so did Lisa. Put a whole different spin on everything I'd ever felt around her. Or any other girl, for that matter. When did — no. Focus. I needed to say something. Right? I was probably meant to say something. I opened my mouth. "I — "

She shot forward and mashed her lips against mine, shutting me up with her tongue in my mouth. I squeaked, not by will, and fell backwards onto my bed, Lisa following me down until she was sitting on my stomach and bent over my chest. Her hands gripped the sides of my head as her tongue explored every nook and cranny of my mouth, dominating my tonsils, overwhelming me with her taste. She held me still as she pressed her body against mine, her breasts rubbing against my painfully stiff nipples, the tied knot of her shirt scratching against my ribs where the babydoll split, the bones of her hips bumping and grinding against my own.

I closed my eyes, and my hands reached up to reassume their previous positions — one behind her head, gripping her hair tightly and directing her kisses, the other on the small of her back, pulling her body down to mine. She moaned appreciatively into my mouth, and withdrew her hands from my head. I felt them fumble between us, around our chests, and then she pulled her arms out and threw her shirt across the room. Then they moved behind her back, and not five seconds later, her lacy red bra joined the shirt on my desk.

We broke our kiss again, and Lisa immediately turned to my chin, kissing and suckling my skin gently, sensually, as she slowly worked her way down to my neck. A moan escaped my lips. There would be marks there tomorrow. I didn't care. Her hands moved down to my breasts and pushed the babydoll up and out of the way, then started pinching my nipples and caressing my body. I moaned again. The hand I had on her hips moved down, sliding beneath the waistband of her thong, and gripped her supple ass, hard. She gasped, the intake of breath tickling my neck and making me shiver.

My other hand slid around her side and grabbed one of her now-bare breasts. They were small — barely even B-cups, probably — but they were firm, and still bigger than mine. I squeezed, my thumb circling her small pink areolae with a feathered touch, brushing her nipple gently. She moaned, the sound making me catch my breath, but she didn't stop suckling her way down my neck. She was nearly at my collarbone, now. My head tilted back and I released my own moan involuntarily.

While I teased her nipples, I slid my other hand around the contours of her hips, stopping when I felt hair against my palm and wetness against my fingertips. Lisa gasped again. And then I slipped a pair of fingers inside her. She shivered, whimpered, then bit down on my collarbone and elicited the same reaction from me.

Her insides were wet and slick and warm. No, not warm. Hot. Unbelievably so. And they were tight. Her pussy clamped around my fingers like a vice, the pressure shocking me. Mine wasn't like this when I masturbated. I pushed my fingers in deeper, and was rewarded with another moan from Lisa. I felt a smirk graze my face. Then I split my fingers into a scissor-like shape and twisted them around like a wheel, all the while slowly thrusting them in and out of her body and gently rubbing my palm against her clit. I received another gasp and moan from Lisa, this time long and drawn out, which soon faded to a shivering whine, like music to my ears.

She growled into my chest, an adorably high-pitched sound, then bit one of my nipples hard, pinching the other with one hand. I sucked air in through my teeth, then suddenly felt her other hand close around my wrist. She pulled my hand away from her crotch and held it above my head, then pulled my other hand up as well, and pinned them both there. She pulled her face away from my chest, and moved up to look down at me, her green eyes intent.

"Naughty," she breathed, the air tickling the skin of my cheeks.

I shivered. "W-w-what?"

She leaned in even closer. "You don't get to do that," she whispered. "Not yet."

"W-why not?"

A smile stretched her lips. It wasn't a particularly nice smile. But it made my heart flutter and my body shiver, all the same. "Because first," she said, "I need to do you." Then she kissed me again, and somehow it was even more intense than any of the others. Her tongue delved between my lips and brought with it her taste. She probed my mouth like she'd been doing it all her life and didn't stop, even when breathing became difficult.

While she did that, she snaked her other hand down to my crotch and into my panties, and started fingering me like I'd fingered her, curling two fingers inside my pussy like she was beckoning me from within. My legs writhed and kicked beneath her as pleasure overwhelmed, and I struggled to free my arms, to take back control, to make her feel this way. But I couldn't. It felt too good to even hope of resisting.

Our kiss continued, and I felt my knees begin to shake. I bucked my hips against her fingers. Breathing was near impossible, now; so intense were her attentions. I groaned, and felt her smile through the kiss. She traced a teasing finger around my clit, and I bucked my hips again, feeling something building deep within me. I recognised that feeling. I was at the brink. I couldn't breathe, but I was nearly there. Just a little more...

Then she pulled away, biting my bottom lip for a moment as she went, and sat on my stomach, looking down at me with her sharp green eyes while I whimpered and stammered unintelligible pleas. I felt her own wetness against my skin. My chest heaved with the force of my breaths, and hers wasn't exactly steady. I watched her breasts rise and fall — through lidded, blurry vision, yes, but it was still immensely arousing.

She withdrew her hand from my crotch with one last teasing stroke that just compounded my whimpers and unsatisfied desires and made me buck my hips again, then brought it up to her face. Her hand was coated with the sheen of my juices, from the tip of her fingers all the way down to her wrist, and she turned it slowly, inspecting it in the dim light like a jeweller purchasing diamonds.

Lisa glanced down at me, looking me right in the eyes as acuity returned to my vision, and grinned an irresistibly sexy grin. Then she stuck one finger in her mouth, slowly sliding it between her lips, her tongue darting out to lick it in laps and circular motions. She moaned softly as she cleaned her finger, ignoring my continuing whimpers, and ground her crotch against my stomach, leaving a shimmering trail of her own juices on my abs.

Finally, she finished cleaning her finger, and it exited her mouth with a wet and absurdly arousing pop. Then she repeated the process with her next finger. I whined and writhed beneath her, but my body was still too weak to escape her grasp. She continued grinding against me while she finished the second finger, even moving up to grind her pussy against my nipples, leaving me groaning. Then she moved on to the third finger. Then the fourth, and then the thumb, and after that she even licked her palm clean.

It was the most agonizing thing I'd every experienced in my life. Lung's fire, Bakuda's bombs, the Locker... none of it even began to compare. But this... this was a good agonizing.

All done with her cleaning, finally, Lisa ceased grinding against me, and smiled that cruelly arousing smile at me again.

I finally found my voice. "L-Lisa."

Her smile widened, and she leaned down until our noses were almost touching, her eyes locked on mine. "Yes?"

My jaw worked silently for a moment. "P-please," I whined. "I-I n-need..."

"Please what?" she said, her smile practically splitting her face now, her voice husky and thick. "What do you need, Taylor?"

Hearing my name made me shudder. I groaned and writhed some more. My arms had regained some of their strength now, but just as I tried to pull them up, Lisa moved her second hand over to pin them down, and I was stuck again. I started panting.

Lisa leaned in close, positioning her mouth right beneath my chin, and licked her way up to my ear. "What do you need, Taylor?"

"I-I — " I gasped and writhed again as she nipped my ear. "Fuck!" I growled. "I need to come, Lisa! Make me come, dammit, or I'll get that fucking whip out and teach you not to be such a fucking tease." I panted, hard, and she pulled back to stare me in the eyes again. "H-happy now?"

She grinned. "Yes," she said, and kissed me again — slow and gentle, this time. I tasted myself on her lips and tongue, something I'd never brought myself to do alone, and I loved it. One of her hands came down to caress my breasts with gentle squeezes and teasing circular motions around my nipples, punctuated by pinches and flicks. I moaned unceasingly into her mouth.

Then she broke the kiss, let go of my hands completely, and swept down to my crotch, licking a line of her own juices off my stomach as she went. She pushed my legs apart, and I obliged willingly, spreading them as wide as my bed would allow. She unclipped the garterbelt and started pulling my panties off, and I lifted my butt to help her. Once they were off, I propped myself up on my elbows and looked down the bed at her as she licked my pussy; a long, slow movement from the bottom to the top. I shuddered and fought for a moment to keep my legs open.

I looked down, and met her eyes as she looked up, her face positioned just above my crotch, sporting a seductive grin that said she knew exactly what she was doing to me. I'd thought Brian had been sexy while he was working out, but this... looking down at my best friend like this, her face lightly glazed with my juices, positioned in such a way that left me at her mercy... This was a whole other level.

Lisa's grin widened, and she got to work.

Her tongue poked probingly at my lower lips, slowly prying them apart while her nose nuzzled my clitoris. I groaned, tilting my head back and squeezing my eyes shut, bucking my hips further into her face and inadvertently twisting my bedsheet into knots with my death-grips. One of Lisa's hands came back up, tracing a curving pattern across my belly as she made her way to my breasts to pick up where she'd left off after our latest kiss.

I shuddered at the feathery touches working their way up my body, and gasped as I felt what Lisa's other hand was doing: entering my pussy again, one finger slowly thrusting in and out and curling within, picking up speed as she went. I felt my orgasm building again. Her hand pinched one of my nipples and twisted just enough to hurt, but not truly hurt. A second finger joined the first inside me, and the pace of her thrusting picked up. I felt her tongue delve into the depths of my pussy, lapping at my juices and wiggling every which way within me.

The muscles in my crotch clenched hard as her curling fingers struck gold, and I felt my pussy clamp down around her tongue and fingers. She nipped my labia gently with her teeth, then suckled on my folds, like she'd done to my neck not too long ago, her fingers still thrusting. I felt myself nearing the brink. Curling up on myself, I scooted my hips forward to keep them in Lisa's reach and placed my hands on her head, pushing her down further between my legs.

Lisa moved her mouth up to my clit. Her hand tweaked my nipples again. A third finger slipped into my depths. Her thumb traced the outline of my pussy, and my body started shivering and didn't stop. Then she bit down on my clitoris, and I climaxed, harder than I'd ever climaxed before.

Her mouth slid down to my pussy and sucked hard as I squirted juices. My legs jerked shut, knees touching, trapping her between my thighs as my hands on her head pushed her as far into my crotch as she could go. My entire body shuddered head to toe, and my hips lifted clear off the bed, bringing Lisa with them. My feet writhed and scrabbled, making a mess of the bedsheets as my orgasm wracked my body — not that it really mattered, with how much I was cumming; Lisa certainly couldn't drink it all. Somehow, I managed to keep myself from shrieking, and instead just hissed a long, quiet, shaky note of absolute pleasure. No chance I was going to wake my dad up with this.

After an eternity, my hips dropped back down to the bed, and my legs fell apart. I gasped for air, and heard Lisa do the same. My head lolled, my eyes lidded and my vision blurry — and not because my glasses had fallen off. I felt my legs jerk as the last throes of my orgasm shuddered through my body.

I felt a weight press down on the bed next to my hips, and another weight press down on the opposite side. I turned to see Lisa crawling toward me over my still-twitching body, licking her lips as she moved. She stopped once we were head to head, one hand on either side of my neck, and she leaned down to kiss me again, gently. I returned it, rather lazily, tasting myself on her lips for the second time that night, and I felt her smile.

Lisa gave me a few minutes to rest, which we spent kissing and gently fondling one another's bodies. She broke one such kiss and leaned forwards, putting her forehead against mine. "So," she whispered. "You all rested yet?"

I smiled. "I think so. Why?"

Her returning grin was excited, and she sat up. I followed her up, just in time to see her remove her thong and throw it off the side of the bed. My eyes snapped down to her now-bare pussy: a thin slit, puffy and wet with arousal, beneath a small tuft of blonde hair. I licked my lips. She leaned back and spread her legs, then reached down with one hand and spread her lips, too, giving me a good look at her glistening pink insides. She truly was immaculate.

I stared for a long, long moment, before reluctantly tearing my gaze up to look at her face. She was grinning practically ear to ear.

"Well?" she said, raising an eyebrow. "Now you do me."

I returned the grin, pushed her down, and got to work.


* * *

I awoke at six-thirty, as per usual, the dawn sun shining on me from the open window beside my bed. I shifted comfortably, fully intent on settling down to sleep in a bit — it was Saturday, after all — until I felt my leg rub up against someone else's.

I lifted a hand to rub the sleep from my eyes — which also brushed against someone on its way up. Actually, my hand had been on whoever was in my bed — on their hip. I blinked away bleariness and focused on my bed-friend.

It was Lisa. I guess she stayed over. I smiled, looking at her sleeping face. She was cute as a button. Felt like an odd thing to think about someone a year older than me, but it was true. Especially when she wasn't talking, or wasn't aware you were looking at her. I reached back and fumbled around on my bedside cabinet until my hands found my glasses, which I brought up and put on before turning back to Lisa.

Her hair was an absolute mess, blonde wisps splayed all over her face and the pillow we were sharing. Her scattered freckles just added to the haphazardness of her current appearance — and compounded how absolutely adorable she was.

Adorning her lips was a smile. Not the usual foxy grin, or the infuriatingly smug smirk she got when she knew something you didn't, or the sad smile that cropped up whenever her past — or mine, for that matter — was brought up, and not even the kind, gentle smile she so often wore when we were together. No, this smile was happy. Content. I'd seen it before, of course, but... not often. And seeing it now, with her asleep in my bed? That made me happier than I could possibly quantify.

My right hand lay on the pillow between us, and was sandwiched between both of her hands. We were awfully close, I noticed. But then, my bed was only a single, so that was to be expected. I moved my left hand — the one that had been on her hip — to her face, brushing the loose strands of hair behind her ear. My elbow pushed the bedsheet we shared down past our shoulders, and a cold morning breeze from the window swept in and made me shiver.

I sat up; slowly, so as not to wake Lisa, and immediately regretted it. It was so cold! I rubbed my hands along my arms. Why was it — wait. I frowned, and looked down at my body. I wasn't wearing a shirt. Or even a bra. What? I yanked back the bedsheet to reveal my lower half, which just so happened to be equally naked. My brain ground to a halt. I never slept naked. And I'd certainly never do so when I had a... friend... over...

With jerky movements, I turned to look at Lisa, still covered by the bedsheet. I reached out a shaky hand and pulled back the sheet all the way. She was naked, too. And there were many wet patches on the lower sheet that covered the mattress.

Memories flooded back to me. Of what I'd... what she'd... what we'd done last night... Oh god.

I jerked backward — not a smart thing to do on a single bed, especially one currently occupied — and ended up falling to the ground, pinwheeling my arms in vain. I shrieked. I couldn't help it. Though I wasn't sure if I shrieked because I fell, or because last night I'd apparently lost my virginity by having lesbian sex with my best friend. Several times. Or does lesbian sex not count?

Either way, I hit the ground with a heavy thump, and knocked my head against my bedside cabinet.

Lisa woke with a jolt and shot upright, her head snapping about the room for a few seconds before she relaxed. "What?" she said, rubbing her eyes and focusing on me. "Taylor? What's happening?"

I stood — or hunched, anyway — trying and failing to cover my nudity with my hands. I also failed miserably at keeping the blush off my face, and at ignoring her nudity, though it seemed like she hadn't quite noticed yet. Or maybe she just didn't care. I figured I should say something, regardless. "I — "

The door slammed open, bouncing off my wall and swinging back until it was stopped my dad's outstretched hand. "Taylor?" he said, taking in the entire room in a moment. "What's wro — "

I shrieked again, and dropped to my knees, turning at an angle to avoid flashing anything at my dad.

"Wha — " He finally seemed to notice I was naked, and jerked his wide-eyed gaze away from me, to the side. In Lisa's direction, of course. He stared at her for a moment, his mouth working soundlessly. If this were a cartoon, his eyes would have been the size of dinnerplates. Lisa finally seemed to notice she was naked, too, grabbing the bedsheet I'd pulled off her and yanking it up to her chest. "Oh!" He spun around to face the hall fast enough to give himself whiplash. "Shit, sorry, I didn't — uh, I mean, I didn't expect, uh — "

"Dad!"

"Uh, right." He nodded his head absently, still staring fixedly at the wallpaper in the hall. "Sorry. Um... I mean, uh... I just... I heard the scream, and, uh... is everything alright?"

My cheeks were on fire, and I didn't trust myself to say anything that wasn't completely stupid. Luckily, Lisa came to my rescue. As per usual.

"Uh, we're fine, Danny," she said, glancing at me. "Taylor just... fell out of bed, is all."

"O-okay," my dad said, drumming his fingers against the doorframe. "Well, uh, sorry, like I said. Um... breakfast will be ready in ten — uh, fifteen minutes. I'll... I'll make another serving, for Lisa. Um... sorry, again." He closed the door without looking back, and now that I was listening, I heard his footsteps going down the stairs.

I glanced at Lisa. She glanced at me. Then she started laughing. She collapsed onto her side and buried her face in the mattress, muffling the sound, but I could still see her shoulders shaking. I flushed and glared at her, but she didn't notice. Then I started laughing, too. Her attitude was infectious.

A few minutes later, when our laughter had slowed to periodic giggles, I grabbed two pairs of clothes out of my closet and pulled one on, throwing the other pair to Lisa. She pulled on a pair of my panties and shorts, and one of my shirts, though they were all a little big on her — the shirt especially. It looked absolutely adorable. She narrowed her eyes at me, as if she knew what I was thinking. I giggled once more, then sat beside her on my bed and took a deep breath to calm my frayed nerves.

"S-so," I began. "Just to be sure I didn't, uh, imagine it... did we — "

"Yes," Lisa said.

"We had s-sex."

She nodded, biting her lip.

I exhaled through my nose, slowly, to give myself time to think. "Okay," I said, blushing a little. "I... well, for one thing, I didn't know I was into girls."

"Neither did I," Lisa said with a wry smile. "So much for being a know-it-all."

I giggled again. Stupid nerves. "Err, do you mean you didn't know that I was into girls, or that you were into girls?"

"Both, I guess." Her cheeks reddened a little. "I mean, I've, uh, admired your, uh, physique a few times, and I've seen you doing the same to me, but I never really..." She rubbed her face with one hand and sighed. "I guess I never really put two and two together, somehow. I'm such an idiot."

"H-hey," I said, putting my hand on top of hers, "you're not an idiot. I — I didn't figure it out, either. I always thought I was straight as an arrow. I mean, I had a crush on Brian when I first joined the Undersiders, remember? And Rachel told me to just, err... jump his bones?"

Lisa snorted a very unladylike snort. "I remember. I vividly recall my crushes from middle school. All boys." She paused, tilting her head. "Although, in retrospect, I suppose the... admiration I had for some of my female friends were probably actually crushes, too."

"Hmm. This definitely casts a different light on playing doctor with Emma as a kid."

Lisa snorted again. "I guess we're both bi, then."

"And neither of us knew it until now?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "That seems... awfully coincidental. I mean, what are the chances of that?"

She shrugged. "No more coincidental than any other two people meeting on the street and hitting it off, I think."

"I guess." I scratched at my nose. "So, uh..."

"What now?" Lisa supplied.

"Yeah."

"Well..." She pursed her lips. "I guess we should talk about it?"

"Okay."

"Okay. So, uh... how did it feel?"

"It?"

"Yeah, you know. It. The, uh, sex."

"Oh." I flushed. "Um, it felt... really good. Nothing like when I, uh... do it on my own."

Lisa blinked at me, then giggled. "I meant emotionally," she said, her own cheeks flushing red to match mine.

"Oh." I shifted. I probably looked like a ripe tomato right about now. "Um, well, my other answer still stands, I think. It felt really good. Like, really good. I don't think I've ever felt better." I blinked. "Uh, emotionally, I mean. Though it felt great p-physically, too."

"Hmm," Lisa said. "I... I feel the same way."

"C-cool. So, uh... should we, uh, try k-kissing?"

Lisa raised an eyebrow at me and smirked. "That wasn't very subtle, Taylor."

I blushed.

"But... okay," she said.

She leaned forward, tilting her head slightly to the right — her left. I leaned in as well, tilting my head in the opposite direction, and closed my eyes as our lips met in a soft melding of flesh. We opened our mouths in sync, and sent out our tongues to dance together. It wasn't a chaste kiss, but it wasn't intense, either, like the kisses last night were. It was just... passionate. We tasted one another, savouring the moment. It kindled a warmth in my chest that radiated out to my limbs and cleared the cobwebs from my mind. It felt... good. It felt like what fairy tales made real kisses seem like. It felt like what I imagined love would feel like, if it were condensed. It felt like comfort. Like acceptance. Like safety.

We pulled apart, our lips still slightly parted, a small strand of saliva joining us. I licked my lips. I wanted to do it again. But I didn't say that. Instead, I said, "That was... nice."

"Yeah," Lisa said.

"So... does this mean we're dating?"

"I... don't know." Lisa looked down at her feet. "Do... do you want to be my girlfriend? Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

I thought about it.

I didn't have to think hard.

"I think I do," I said, squeezing her hand.

Lisa smiled. "Then I guess we're dating," she said. "Now we just have to tell your dad."

I groaned, dropping my head to her lap, and she laughed.

Dolls And Medicine

(Автор: TheDivineDemon)

An old snip for how Parian and Panacea could start dating


* * *

She hated hospitals.

It seemed like her family was in and out of one or another over the last few months, until they hadn't. Until they lost the one thing that drove them to go there over and over again.

The day she lost her father was the worst day of her life.

And, because of that, her life changed.

She had her Trigger event, or at least that's what the Parahuman wiki called it.

The worst day, the worst moment of her life, and she felt so selfish for it. Because she didn't get it because her father died.

No, that was just the cherry on top of her crappy day.

And she felt so selfish for it. That the worst moment of her life wasn't because her father died but because a boy wouldn't take no for answer. He'd just keep calling her, texting her, following her, never understanding that she wasn't interested.

When she finally snapped and yelled at him, demanded that he left her alone, she was labeled a bitch by those she thought were her friends. No one backed her up, not one of her friends were on her side with the situation and she didn't dare bother her family with such trivialities with her father's waning health.

Feeling isolated on all sides and the tremendous loss of her father, a corner stone and constant she took comfort in, she triggered alone in what was just another night filled in fear and sadness.

And now she had no idea what to do with herself or where to go, or probably more important, what to do. All she knew is that she didn't want to fight. She didn't want to join the Protectorate, she didn't want to rob banks, she just wanted to be Sabah.

There had to be more options out there for her than the black and white sides she see on TV.

Which was why she was at St. Mary's hospital, shifting nervously in her sear in the waiting lounge as she waited for the one parahuman that she knew didn't fight.

The hospital staff kept on giving her looks, most likely because she had been sitting there for nearly two hours waiting now and that was sending warning signals to their minds.

But that didn't really matter to her, what did was when her target came walking out the elevator.

Sabah was instantly on her feet at the sight of Amy Dallon and made a near immediate b-line towards the famous healer, mentally repeating her preplanned lines in her head as she approached.

"Excuse me." Sabah called out as she got closer to the freckled girl.

Amy, Panacea, let out a sigh as she squared herself and turned to face Sabah. "What can I do for you?" She asked as pleasant as possible.

Nerves and words failed Sabah for a moment, long enough for an awkward pause and for Panacea to ask, "Are you hurt anywhere? Sick? A family member maybe."

The questions sounded either prerehersed or repeated so much that they might as well have been, making Sabah feel just a bit more guilty about wasting the younger girl's time.

Still though she was here, she was going to do it. "No, I'm fine... I just, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a bit?"

Panacea gave her a dry look, one that said she had better things to do than talking to some strange girl. Though she did voice it a bit more friendly as she started to walking away, "I'm sorry, I'm a bit busy at the moment. Maybe some other time." The "some other time" obviously being no where in the foreseeable future, pushing Sabah to pursue the issue all the harder.

She needed the help, she needed the direction.

"Please wait." She said, jogging a bit to catch up to the healer. "Just a few minutes, please."

Amy glanced at her obviously irate over the whole thing but she decided to give in at the imploring look in Sabah's eyes. "Fine, I need a coffee anyway."


* * *

Coffee in hand and a relatively private seat in the hospital's cafeteria Amy waited for Sabah to explain why she was so insistent on talking with her. If Amy was going to be perfectly honest one of the major reasons that she even decided to sit down with the girl was that she was cute, and that accent was more than pleasant to listen to.

A more than welcomed distraction from her usual taboo daydreams.

For a moment all the girl did was fiddle with a napkin and open her mouth a few times to say words that never came. Eventually she just bit down on her lip and held the napkin in front of her like she was showing Amy something grand.

And apparently she was.

Amy watch with a bit of wonder and unease as the paper cloth twisted and turned into a little man who started to walk around the table in lazy laps.

Clamping down on her nerves as best she could, a hand under the table reaching for her phone helped with that, Amy elegantly replied to the display with a "Oh"

"Its been a little over a week since I've been able to do... this," She explained gesturing to the little man who simply stood around without any other greater orders. "And I don't know what to do with it."

"What?" Amy asked, confused.

"I don't know what to do with my... powers." The older girl explained. "I don't want to fight and I'm pretty sure joining the Protectorate means I would be forced to fight and I don't want to be a villain so... what can I do?"

That question came out almost desperate in tone, so much so Amy was slightly taken aback and causing a silence to fall on their table as she tried to regain her thoughts.

It was obvious that the girl across from her had just recently triggered, even if she hadn't mentioned it, by just how confused she was, Trigger events seemed to do that to first generation capes, leaving them disoriented for a long while after the event.

A good number of new capes seemed to handle the disorientation by lashing out, but this girl seemed to just burrow into herself if anything.

Amy could relate.

She could also relate to the third option that wasn't mentioned, not using her powers. Ever.

Not an easy task.

Once you had powers something in you craved for you to use them, even if it was just in small ways they had to use their powers. And the media and PRT really didn't help with the whole "Be a Hero or you're a Villian" mentality that was being spread for the last few decades.

Luckily there was a new option, a small one but it was growing phenomenon that the New Waves members were looking at in interest. As it may be the only way for the kids in their group to ever hold a solid job.

"You could go Rogue." Amy said after a few seconds thought.

"Rogue?" Dang, that accent really was cute.

"Its... like having a job by using your powers." Amy explained a bit awkwardly, "Like using super strength to work construction, or something."

"Is that what you do?"

Amy blinked, "Ah, no. This is just volunteer work." The thought of going Rouge had crossed her mind a few time but she was more than a bit worried about getting paid for medical work without a degree or certificate.

"Oh..." Was the response back. "How do I do that anyway? Go Rogue?"

"I don't know." Amy mused. "I guess its like showing up for a job interview in mask or something."Though she wasn't sure how well certain business would feel about a masked person just waltzing into their store.

The other girl seemed to think the same thing. "I guess... But what could I do?"

"Puppet shows?" Amy half suggested.

"Maybe." She said, biting her lip in thought before looking up, "Thank you. You've been, you've been great."

Amy didn't mind. It was a decent break, one she sorely needed, and she enjoyed to the talk. And again, cute girl with accent. There were a lot worse things that she could be doing.

She mentioned the former, "I enjoyed the talk." She said honestly, and a spark of bravery had her jotting down her number onto a napkin. "Feel free to call me so we can have another."

The napkin was taken with a smile, and did Amy see a blush on that tan skin? "I will. Here." The little paper man who had just been standing fell over and unraveled, giving the girl space to jot a name and a number down. "Feel free to do the same."

Amy took it with her own smile as she got up to leave, a little bit of wishful thinking skittering along her mind as she stood.

As they went their separate ways Amy looked down at the curvy hand writing, "Sabah." Looking back at the departing girl, and seeing something that caused a slight blush to light her face, Amy thought that she might be calling soon.

Dragon Cutie Prismatic

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

It was late at night when I got back home. In the old boiler room I hid the my costume of spidersilk and chitin. Today I was officially a member of the Undersiders. I'll tell Armsmaster the information as soon as I figure out who the boss is.

I creeped slowly into my room, as I didn't want my dad to wake up. Sitting cross legged on my bed was the creature. It was covered in scales, with large wide eyes. The lizard-person turn to face me.

"I'm a kobold, not a lizardfolk. Really for the great Pun-Pun to compares to those Troglodytes. Yes Taylor before you ask I can read your mind."

"Your not person to claim to be psychic," I said as my hands clenched in a fist and I started to gather a swarm. "What do you want."

"I'm bored, so I'm going to turn you into a magical girl," said Pun-Pun as he snapped his talons.

Rainbow light filled my vision as my body started to change. The weight on my chest grew as my breasts swelled from tiny nubs to teardrops that would overflow my hands. Vines of shiny scales traced themselves along my body as it continued to change. My hips and rear widened as Pun-Pun's power continued to work.

Patterns on scales decorated itself along my skin, as a pair of bony wings sprung out of my back. They thicken as chromatic light formed between the wingtips. A slender tail covered in scales joined the new additions to my body.

As the changes to my body finally ceased, ribbons of prismatic light wrapped around me as part of it hardened into cloth, while some of the rest remained rainbow light. As the changes finished I wearing a skimpy parody of a japanese school uniform made of white cloth and literal rainbows.

"What did you do to me?!" I yelled.

"Exactly what I said I'd do; make you into a magical girl. Have fun with the new powers and being a lesbian now. I'm got a few more to transform like that Lisa girl. A Gem dragon for sure but which one to use on her."

With a snap of the his talons, Pun-Pun disappeared.

Tentacles And Supervillianesses

(Автор: Anzer-ke)

At the start it hadn't been a big deal.

Sure he'd whimpered a little when he first went to take a piss and found his dick had become prehensile, but compared to all the other horrors that Bonesaw's death throes might have left him with? Brian had felt lucky. So instead of freaking out, he just kept remembering how it had felt to choke that little monster to death and got on with his day. Dealing with the aftermath of the Slaughterhouse's deaths had been proving to be a significant task and the Undersiders were stuck with a lot of the work.

It hadn't been a particularly bad day. Though when they all met up in the evening to talk business Brian had been weirdly upset about Taylor's new costume skirt. Sure it completely blocked the view of her cute butt, not to mention what her skin-tight costume did at the front, but that would only make it look scarier. Which was a good thing. At least that was what he told himself when the urge to tear it off her began building. Not appropriate thoughts for a meeting on the health of their territories, especially with their new healer still looking like she expected them to start sacrificing babies at any moment.

Later that night had been when things really began to go to hell.

The memory of Taylor's perfect ass wouldn't leave him. Not that he was fighting it off very hard, it was better than curling up and trying to stave off nightmares by thinking of crushing a pre-teen's...everything. Eventually he decided to go with the flow and shed his pyjamas beneath the sheets. Then he reached down to engage in some serious meat beating and...

Aisha rushed into his room a moment later, but he was too busy screaming to notice her. Screaming at the nest of bright tentacles that were occupying his crotch. Screaming at what had to be parasites, because even if he could feel the air against them, even if the ability to move them was prodding against his brain, even then he couldn't...couldn't have been...

Eventually he came back to himself, clinging to his little sister and sobbing. She'd stroked his head and whispered nothing and for a while he'd felt like maybe everything might be okay. Then he'd felt one of his new appendages coiling around her leg.

His sister had thought nothing of it, making one of her usual cringe-worthy jokes, she hadn't felt what he felt. The surge of desire that went through him. The way the other...things, perked up. The primal awareness that a female, never mind that it was his fucking sister, was inches away from him.

Brian had been pouring out darkness even as he tore himself away. Only when he'd completely flooded the room did he notice the tug of a foreign power and realise that Aisha was in there with him, and that only made the urges worse, calling to mind thoughts of how helpless she was. Dark mirrors to fantasies he'd had about his powers before, fantasies that had most definitely never involved Aisha. Just thinking of touching her to guide her out had made him nauseous, so he'd cleared her a path in the darkness and waited silently within it until she left.

Things had only gone downhill from there.

Within a day the mutations had spread beyond his crotch. First it was his legs imitating some bizarre octopus, then his torso started shifting colours from moment to moment and sprouting additional tentacles at random. When his arms shifted -fortunately not losing any dexterity, maybe even gaining some what with having way more than ten digits now— Brian hadn't been able to pretend any more. It was going to reach his head soon and then sitting in a cloud of darkness all day wasn't going to work.

For all he knew once it reached his head he'd grab the next teammate that came around to talk into his darkness. It wasn't like there was any shortage of them, and that meant...it meant he'd have to tell them. That he was a freakish monster and they needed to kill him before he hurt someone.

Checking a clock for the first time in days, Brian found that it was past midnight. The thought of waiting all night to get it over with, well it wasn't a pleasant one. Then again, walking across town wasn't much better. He'd just curled up in his bed -literally— when the efficient beep of his 'doorbell' alerted him to a visitor and gave him an abrupt appreciation for having hours to wait until he had to tell someone. When his rush to the intercom found Taylor's swarm voice asking to be let in...well...

He buzzed her in, idly wondering when Aisha had left their shared base. Then he debated where to wait. The living space was better for greeting someone, but he'd gotten pretty comfortable in his bedroom in the last few days. Which was a nice way to say that his room was clean and the living space really wasn't and now that he was walking on sense organs Brian really didn't want to step on a pizza box. So bedroom it was.

After a brief eternity, Taylor walked into the living space in full costume. Though she'd lost the skirt, and yep, there was the camel toe. How no one else ever seemed to notice was beyond him. It made a nice distraction though, especially when she walked right up to the edge of his cloud and just stood there. Waiting. Puffing her chest in and out with agitated breaths that really didn't help his focus. Especially once he started thinking of how much more relaxed she used to be around him. Of how her face would twist in disgust. Of how she'd scream when she saw him.

Plucking up his courage, Brian took three quick breaths then dispelled his power completely. At almost the exact moment that Taylor took a long step forward.

In the silence that followed, they blinked at one another. Brian had something of a numerical advantage there, though Taylor's eyes could hide behind her mask. Then the silence shattered as they both started shouting at once.

"What the hell-"

"What do you think-"

"-were you-"

"-you're doing-"

"-thinking?! Just-"

"-Brian!? Why-"

"-stepping in-"

"-wouldn't you-"

"-like that, what-"

"-come to us-"

"-if I'd hurt you!?"

"-if you needed help?!"

Their glares met, matched, then Brian remembered what he looked like now and his glare died off as he scrambled to haul his covers over his body. He was struggling to unstick them from two particularly weird tentacles when Taylor pulled the sheets away and he was suddenly very very aware of her.

Taylor was no great beauty, he'd known that from day one, but there had been something about her from day one nevertheless. Part of it was her body, all lithe and lean and begging to be...okay, so she was hot. Her face wasn't as attractive, too serious, too thin, except that when she was working on a problem she puffed her cheeks a little and Brian was still debating just how it worked but it certainly made her look cuter. All of which would have been a lot easier to ignore if his own experiences with girls had not, prior to that point, consisted of Rachel the terrifying and Lisa the unnerving. Honestly it was probably just that she'd been the first girl he'd felt so comfortable around. Like they could just talk, no need for masks or posturing. And he'd wondered if maybe...maybe that might become something...

A feminine squeak pulled him back to reality, where Taylor was tightly wrapped in what had previously been his arms. Only her head emerged from the cocoon and beneath it he could feel the contours of her body with aching clarity. He practically hurled her away from him.

"Taylor. You need to leave, now. Then tell the others-"

"I'm not telling them anything." She said while standing up and brushing non-existent dust off her costume, "Lisa and I already talked with Aisha and we think we have a solution. I volunteered for it."

It took him a second to process her words. When he did Brian felt like he might float away if he didn't hold onto his bed. "You mean there's a cure?!"

"Y-yeah. Of a sort. Lisa thinks that it'll turn you back to normal for a while at least, though you'll...probably need more of it regularly."

Brian didn't care. "That's the best news I've heard in, I don't even know how long." He cursed Taylor's mask then, still hiding her reaction from him. After long enough for the silence to become awkward, he asked the obvious question. "So, do you have it with you? What's the cure?"

He barely made out her mumbling, "...don't fight your instincts." Then she took a very deep breath, and pounced on him.

If being close to her had been bad, this was, it was like bathing in pheromones. He could practically taste her, even through that damn costume, and she tasted of heat and silk and wet needy lust that overwhelmed his senses and—

This time he hurled himself away, rushing to the head of the bed and keeping himself there. When she started crawling towards him he almost wanted to cry.

"Brian." He ignored her. "Brian." He curled away. "Brian!" Then she grabbed his tentacle wrapped head from where it was nestled within his tangled mass and met the gaze of his single uncovered eye. She'd shed her mask and now that he could see her face her lack of composure was very apparent. She was almost glowing with the force of her blush and her eyes kept wandering away from his gaze. Her voice was very clear though, "Brian. I'm only going to say this once, because I'm not that brave. I want this. I'm fine with it and its okay if you get rough or whatever, I wouldn't have come if I-"

He had stopped listening after he heard 'I want this' and his control snapped so hard that he could have sworn he heard the sound of the pieces pinging away. Then he cut Taylor off by stuffing a tentacle into her mouth. He unfolded, rising to tower over her as her eyes went very very wide, he had just enough control to meet her gaze and wait for the little jerk of her head that was probably a nod. Then he stopped even trying to control himself.


* * *

Taylor had known what she was getting into. Or at least she'd had some idea, and a fervent need to help Brian in any way that she could. Whether it was guilt or love that fed that need, she wasn't sure. Perhaps it was both?

Whatever it was, it had driven her every step of the way. From spending several hours getting ready, to calling Aisha and bribing her to leave for a few hours, right up to standing at his door and pushing her swarm to the very edges of her range. She'd gone over everything Lisa could tell her and tried several tricks that the internet insisted would help psych her up for the act. She'd prepared until even she had to admit she was stalling.

Even so, with a rubbery tentacle filling her mouth, Taylor felt like she might have been less prepared than she'd thought. This wasn't porn, with the safety of solitude and her computer screen; This was her body, and there was nothing safe about this.

Fear crept over her, smothering the arousal that had flushed her body. There were so many things that could go wrong with this and she wasn't sure if she was ready and, and—

Her eyes found his, the only part of his face that he wasn't hiding, and Taylor remembered herself. This wasn't a monster. It was Brian. He had earned her trust.

She nodded -as best she could with her head held in place— and then a lot of things happened very quickly.

Thick tentacles wrapped around each of her limbs and hefted her into the air above his bed like she didn't weigh a thing. Then what felt like dozens of thinner tendrils found her body, caressing every inch of her skin through the silk of her costume. They staggered their activity, so it felt like he was exploring her body a little at a time, looking for the places that made her moan around her makeshift gag.

She didn't get much from his attention to her feet or calves, then he found her thighs and she moaned heavily. He skipped the very place that she most wanted him to focus on, finding her stomach instead. The massage of her abs made her squirm a little, but the touches to her sides and the small of her back just felt like warm pressure.

Her toes curled when he found the nape of her neck beneath her hair, then something shifted in that tentacle and a mouth was sucking greedily at her skin and her back arched in delight. Several tentacles tried to assault her meagre chest only to be defeated by the thick layers of her costume and sports bra combined.

That was the trigger for her to realise just how much of her body was covered by her costume, and how badly she wanted it off. She tried to tell him, 'I really want to be naked right now so let me show you how to take this thing off.' But all that came out was, "hmmg uugnnh umf uurr ahhh."

When she tried to pull a hand free of his grip, the tentacles tightened almost painfully and there was a sharp smack against her ass. The warning might have worked better if she enjoyed it a little less.

She struggled again.

spank

And again.

spank

Again.

No spanking this time, instead the other tentacles redoubled their attack, setting her squirming and moaning and suddenly the tentacle in her mouth left and her moans were a lot less muffled. She sucked in air, about to yell exactly what she wanted him to do with her costume, when something thick and musky poked at her lips.

This tentacle was different. For one thing it was a pinkish colour, where the rest were roughly the same shade as Brian's skin. For another it twitched beneath her breath in a way that made her certain it felt every whisper of air. Mostly though, it being shaped like a penis was the give away. At least like penises were shaped in porn. She had the crazy thought that maybe that wasn't what real penises were shaped like and this was something else entirely and then it thrust past her lips and her head was filled with something else entirely.

The smell and taste filled her senses, strange and a little salty, new in a way that made her eager to explore the flavour. It was soft against her lips, but her tongue's pressure found an unyielding core. This time it was Brian who moaned, a rumbling wordless exclamation coming from several parts of him simultaneously, including the mouth pressed to her neck.

Emboldened, Taylor tried to coil her tongue around the intruder in her mouth, and when that didn't get much reaction, sucked in her cheeks and hummed. The tentacle spasmed and swelled until her jaw ached at how far it was forced open. Then it began to push into her.

She'd been expecting it, but that didn't do much to reduce her gagging when it pressed against the back of her mouth. It began to draw away and Taylor groaned her disapproval. She could take it, she knew she could, but when she thrust her head forward her gag reflex refused to co-operate and she barely suppressed the urge to vomit. Still she kept trying, until Brian withdrew the tentacle from her mouth entirely.

"No, wait! I can do it, just— mmfff!!" Her protests were cut off by another tentacle in her mouth, this one thin and with a tip that flowered against her tongue. Then it began to spray something thick and sweet and...and...

Her senses fogged and her body became unbearably hot and then it passed and the dick shaped tentacle was shoving its way into her mouth again. It reached the back before she could brace herself, but this time there was no urge to vomit.

She gagged, but it never went beyond that. Meanwhile her throat felt like it was coated in honey, except honey was sticky and this was— it was something. All she could think of was how the invader felt, stretching her throat, pushing into her until she was sure the tip had to be in her stomach. It was like being impaled, without the agonising pain.

It pulled away, sliding out of her throat with a ridiculously obscene noise, and she strained to push herself back onto it. Then it shoved back into her throat in a single powerful thrust. Back out, then in, out, in, out, in. She gagged and sputtered and shook as her throat was violated over and over again.

It felt like it went on for hours, it didn't feel like nearly long enough. The thrusts got shallower and faster until it was barely rocking back and forth. Then it swelled until she was sure her jaw would dislocate and a powerful stream of liquid heat shot down her throat. Almost immediately overflowing and filling her mouth with something thick and salty and a lot tastier than she'd thought semen would be.

She swallowed and swallowed but there was so much of it and she'd already been struggling to breathe, then the tentacle pulled out of her and she was free to cough up most of it as more was pumped over her in thick white ropes. Her hair was covered, one eye glued shut by the torrent and the front of her costume completely covered. The tentacles dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed, further ruining the sheets.

Lying in a pool of cum, Taylor remembered rubbing herself frantically to a poorly animated video of exactly what had been done to her, thinking that she couldn't possibly get any more aroused. The wet heat that had soaked her panties proved that wrong, her need so powerful that she didn't realise her hand was moving until she was already pawing at her crotch, trying to remember how to get out of her costume even as she kept licking up every drop of white that she could reach.

"Holy shit."

She couldn't find a response beyond a breathless moan. "Mmnnngg."

"I— Taylor! Are you okay?!"

This time she recognised the voice, Brian, sounding normal again. Sure enough when she rolled her eyes in his direction she could found an exactly what she'd come here hoping for. Brian looking completely normal: head, boyishly handsome; chest, mouth-watering; arms, even more alluring; and legs, reminding her of harlequin romance covers and morning workouts.

Wait, no. His bare groin still had a cluster of tentacles which she was almost certain weren't what he normally had there, and there looked to be more coming out of his back. That meant, it meant she had to, oh fuck, she felt so fucking horny.

"Brian...please..." Was the best she could manage. When he responded by scooping her up in those delicious arms of his, Taylor wasn't sure if he'd gotten the message or not. He brought them through to the shower, which could be a good sign or not. Once he got it going and stepped in, the hot water definitely felt incredible, even if she was a little upset when it washed away the rest of the seed soaking her.

Then he slapped her.

Everything snapped back into focus, including Brian looking frantic with worry as he almost shouted, "Are you okay? Taylor?! Say something!"

"Woah, Lisa said there might be an aphrodisiac effect, but damn..." Combing her fingers through her hair, Taylor smothered a moan at the mess she found there. Brian's hands caught hers and drew her attention back to him.

"Taylor, what the fuck does Lisa have to do with anything?"

"Um," A sinking feeling started to form in her gut. "Well she kind of told me that you were mutating because of..."

"Because of Bonesaw, because I got covered in all her crap when I killed her."

"Yeah...I didn't really understand the reasoning but Lisa figured out that you could turn back if..."

"Sex. Sex turns me back." His voice had gone hollow, but Taylor couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth.

"For a while at least. So I kind of...volunteered."

He lowered her to the tiles, letting go once she had her feet beneath her, then backed away until he bumped into the cubicle wall.

"I should probably have figured that out sooner." He was talking more to himself than to her.

"It's not how it sounds."

"Why else would you have, have forced yourself to do any of that."

She tried to interject, "Nobody forced anyone."

He paused, looking down at her with empty eyes, "I'm a monster Taylor, you need to get out of here before I get that bad again. Just turn me over to the PRT, they can contain me or whatever else it tak-"

It was his turn to get slapped. He touched the red hand print rising on his cheek, and began to look even guiltier. Taylor wasn't having any more of that, leaping at him and wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Then before he could push her away, she kissed him full on the lips.

It was hard and rough and as soon as she felt an opening she slipped her tongue between his lips and fumbled it around. She had no idea what she was doing, so she just poured everything that she was feeling into the kiss and hoped against hope that honesty would be enough.

Eventually she pulled away, leaving him adorably dazed. Before he could say anything she mustered her courage and said, "I love you. I'm pretty sure I've already told you that, but I'll keep telling you until you realise that I'm not unhappy about being here."

He couldn't meet her stare, "...That doesn't make you okay with this, and I won't blame you for that."

She slumped against him and growled, "Actually, yes it does, don't even try to tell me that you'd abandon someone you cared about because of something like this." Drawing in a breath to continue, she hesitated and averted her eyes, "Anyway, I'm actually kind of...into...this sort of thing."

"What does 'this sort of thing' mean?"

"Guys with your build, bondage, and...maybe...sometentaclepornsometimes."

When she dared to look him in the eye, Brian was finally smiling, and he'd arched a brow playfully. "What are you saying about my build? Should I take that as a compliment?"

She slumped further in her embarrassment, low enough for her sensitive parts to brush against his, reminding her that she'd been intensely aroused a few minutes earlier. Which just brought the heat rushing right back, her body announcing that it would very much like what it had been denied and until it got what it wanted, she could forget about complex thought.

Her hips jerked against him, even through the layers she could get off a little if she just rubbed against those rippling abs. Then his arms finally wrapped around her and something tugged at the concealed zipper of her costume and she would have sung with glee -which would probably have ruined the mood— except Brian was returning her earlier sudden-french-kiss-out-of-no-where.

Not that she was complaining.

Her costume was soaked, with water and other things, making peeling it off her an involved process even with the help of Brian's arms and several tentacles. Normally that would have annoyed her, but Brian seemed determined to familiarise himself with every inch of skin that he revealed. Her back was a lot more sensitive without thick silk in the way, making her wish that the thick straps of her sports bra weren't in the way.

Then they weren't and the costume was bunched around her waist and her nipples were rock hard against his chest and she was biting her lip at the sensation...wait, no, that was Brian's lip, same difference. When his hands came up to paw at her meagre breasts, Taylor was torn between the pleasure and wishing she'd had the nerve to ask Amy to bump her up a few cup sizes.

She tried to reach for him, it only seemed fair to return the favour and she'd wanted to explore his body since she first saw it, but they refused to move. Breaking the kiss, she looked down to confirm that, yes, he had wrapped both her arms in tentacles. As she watched, he gently brought them behind her back, binding her forearms together just tightly enough to put a little tension in her shoulders.

When she looked back up Brian was wearing a smile that made her want to melt. "You did say you were into being tied up." Then he leaned down and teased at her ear with his teeth, before whispering, "Are you ready for all three?"

Words wouldn't come, but she eventually managed a nod. Then he was kissing her again and speaking was the last thing on her mind.

Everything but the water and his skin against her faded away. After a while she was vaguely aware of untangled her legs from his waist and her costume slapping wetly to the tiles. Then the embarrassing lacy underwear that she'd worn specially was torn off her and tossed away.

Her back pressed against the wall, his hands wrapped around her ankles and spread her legs, exposing the heat of her core. Brian began to stoop, staring right at it while a few tentacles took over restraining her legs. For a while there was nothing but silence and his breath against her.

She'd never even been naked in front of a boy before, having his eyes so close was more than she could take, "St-stop looking at it."

Lips pressed against a very different set as he complied. The first few licks just felt strange, then he found his tongue found its way to the top of her slit as his fingers slid inside, and it felt like fireworks going off inside her. She shouted his name, telling him not to stop, that she'd swarm him with bees if he stopped, that she'd do anything so long as he didn't stop. He nipped at her clit and she howled her approval.

The heat in the pit of her stomach coiled tighter and tighter, until she was sure it had to explode. Until she wondered how the hell she'd never been able to feel this good alone. She could feel her peak coming and it was close, so so close—

He pulled away.

Before she could start screaming at him to get his mouth back where it belonged, he stood up and she lost her breath at the sight of his erection. Thick, long, poking out of the tangle of tentacles at his crotch.

A distant corner of her mind reflected that she really shouldn't have found the third of those things equally alluring. Then he stepped close to her and it was pressed against her slit, and her abs, too much of her abs, really just about all of her abs.

Looking up at him, Taylor was about to raise the question of whether he might be about to tear her in half and that maybe that wasn't the best idea, when a familiar slender tentacle emerged from behind his shoulder. The tip was already flowering when it snaked below her waist. A moment later it was squirming an inch or so inside her and something warm and sweet-smelling was jetting inside her.

Taylor had never actually had a massage, but that was the only thing she could compare it to. Whatever the stuff was -hopefully something non-toxic, non-addictive and not made out of kittens— it relaxed every muscle inside her, before pulling away, leaving her feeling empty. Brian stepped close and...

And she was full. Full like she'd never imagined. Filled until she'd have sworn that he had to be pressing against her lungs because there was no breath in them but all she could do was throw her head back and moan without words, without sound. His lips found her neck and a very familiar tentacle took advantage of her open mouth.

He thrust his hips while pulling the tentacle back; then pulled his hips back as the tentacle sheathed itself in her throat. All the while his lips roamed her neck and chest, his hands played with her like she was an instrument and he wanted a symphony of moans, muffled by the way he was fucking her.

Her toes curled, her hands fluttered at nothing, until his fingers intertwined with hers and she met her first climax.

The second came before the sparks of the first were done fading. The third wasn't far behind. The fourth came with darkness at the edges of her vision. The fifth knocked her out cold.

When she woke up he was standing behind her, nothing else had changed. His shaft found something wonderful inside her and she lost track of time.

After that the evening was a haze. When she thought back on it later there were few moments that stood out: the first -or maybe second— time he filled her core with his seed; several minutes when he spanked her with every thrust; a few snatches of when he aimed the shower spray at her clit; his voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear while he used her like a fleshlight.

She would never forget the end though.

She'd barely been clinging to consciousness. His cum had filled her until her belly began to swell slightly. The tentacle in her throat had pulled out at some point. Those that had held her hands behind her back were gone too, one of his hands keeping her wrists prisoner above their heads instead.

In fact there weren't any tentacles left at all. Just him pressed against her, inside her. The shower had been turned off, exertion drying them despite the humid air, and with what little strength she'd had left Taylor had lifted her lolling head to look back at him.

His hips were still pumping, driving pleasure into her, taking pleasure from her, but his face was all she cared about. There was fatigue to mirror her own, lifted by the smile tugging his lips up. His nose scrunched up and a laugh bubbled up from inside her. He laughed along with her, reaching out with his free hand and tucking a few black hairs behind her ear, barely putting a dent in the mess that her obsessively brushed hair had become. Which just made her laugh harder, setting him off again, their smiles matching even as they both enjoyed the vibration.

Where every other climax had been almost violently intense, this time it felt like coming home. Both of them finding their way together.

Brian's legs folded beneath them and they slid down the wall, still joined even as he softened to a more manageable size.

Slumped against him, limp and exhausted, Taylor just managed to press her ear to his chest. Then she fell asleep to the sound of his breathing, and the beat of his heart.


* * *

Alternate Ending

Brian stirred, then shot upright and panting.

Something was wrong. Taylor was still beside him, too exhausted to wake. His room was just as messy as he had left it, with the stained and hastily replaced sheets balled up against the wall. The lights were still off and the heavy door was undamaged. The bed shifted beneath him and he was about to apologise for waking Taylor after all when he saw it.

Their was a lump under the covers, and it definitely wasn't meant to be there.

He tossed the covers aside -not realising for several seconds that he had used a freshly sprouted tentacle to do so— and balled his fists, ready to—

"Hey Brian," said Lisa, sucking one of her fingers, "Glad to see that the plan worked."

He stared. Then he stared some more. Eventually he managed to get his head around Lisa being naked in his bed, sprawled over Taylor's perfectly sculpted legs, but it took a bit more staring before he worked out what the hell she was doing.

Taylor's pussy looked pretty good in light of the pounding it had gotten a few hours earlier, but as tight as she was it had been inevitable that his load would leak out of her over time. Except their uninvited visitor was scooping up the cum as it emerged and lapping it from her fingers.

Righteous fury was about to explode out of him when Lisa snapped up a hand with the palm pointed at him.

"Calm down Sir Stop-Molesting-My-Girl, I wouldn't do this if I wasn't sure she'd be okay with it. Anyway, this stuff tastes incredible, I can't let it all go to waste."

Keeping his voice to a whisper, Brian mustered the most eloquent response he could manage, "Lisa, what the fuck are you doing!?!"

She looked at him like he was an idiot, "Well you didn't expect us to leave you to Taylor, did you?"

His stunned expression must have been enough to tell her that yes, he'd very much expected them to leave him to Taylor.

A sultry pout took the place of her usual smile, "Taylor might be your girlfriend, but we are villains. Why be all normal and boring? Rachel already said you can use her any time you want, I think Amy might even be into it once she gets more comfortable around us. And I'm super ready for it. "

"Reeaally?" He had to draw the word out just to get all of his scepticism into it.

Lisa grinned her finest foxy grin back at him, "Oh yeah. I'm your new fuck toy Brian, if you think you can handle me?"

Without any warning, he grinned even wider back at her, a dozen tentacles darting out and surrounding her without touching her skin. They pointed at her, the tips flowered and Lisa barely got her hands in front of her eyes before they blasted her body with narrow jets of pink fluid.

The combined volume soaked her instantly, then the aim shifted to particular areas of her body and she dropped her hands to her chest with a whimpered moan. Her eyes were a little glazed, lazily following his tentacles as they withdrew and were replaced with a much thicker set.

He could see her struggling to break through the haze, and he waited quietly as she did so. Awareness returned to her eyes, she snatched her hands away from her breasts, then she opened her mouth and he struck.

His first tentacle shoved past her lips and thrust several inches down her throat. He groaned and tossed his head back, basking in the tight heat inside her. When she flailed to grab at her neck, he snared both her arms and used the grip to lift her into the air. Another pair coiled around her torso, leaving their tips level with her perky chest and immediately opening into wide inhuman mouths. He wasted no time getting a taste of her tits, teasing her nipples with his new pair of tongues and smirking at how she squirmed and kicked in his grip.

Moving her so she was belly down in the air, he looked right at her and let her see his smile clearly. As expected realisation dawned in her eyes, she jerked her head in something halfway between nodding and shaking it, then screamed through the intruder in her mouth as he filled both of her remaining holes simultaneously.

It felt incredible. Her throat felt good, but her ass and pussy both put it to shame. Which of the two he preferred would take some time to figure out though, fortunately Lisa had already volunteered her time.

He patted on the head, grinning at the way her eyes had rolled back. "I guess I finally found a way to make you stop talking." Her only reply was a gurgle as her toes curled and she squirted almost excessively.

"Well you seem to be having fun, and I'm definitely enjoying it." Brian thought for a moment, "You know, the way I control these things has a lot of auto-pilot to it. I'm pretty sure that if I leave them to it they'll just keep on going at you until they get tired."

Again she made a loud animalistic noise, again he had no idea what she meant and again he didn't much care.

Lying down again, Brian pulled Taylor's sleeping body closer and settled into his pillow as the steady glurk glurk continued above the bed. When Taylor rolled over and threw an arm over him, he returned the embrace, finding a gentle smile creeping onto his face.

"See you in the morning Lisa."

He went to sleep.

Ruby Moon

(Автор: Souffle)

Her thumb stung quite a bit. Poking it with a needle to draw the few symbols on the floor of her room was a bit annoying, but it worked decently well. Still, maybe she had the band-aid on too tight. Or she didn't use enough Iodine?

Stray thoughts. She frowned, looking down at the floor of her room. It wasn't particularly late, but it was a perfect day to do this. She was certainly in the right frame of mind: desperate, tired, slightly relieved, and just a little on this side of insane: The usual mix when she came home from school, these days.

It had surprisingly taken only a few minutes to move her furniture, most of it light, and peel back her carpet, exploring the floor below. After a rather vigorous cleaning, she had drawn on it.

Mostly with ink. But some parts required blood.

She looked back at the book, frowning a little. That was the right page, it seemed. The entire book was rather odd. The only english in it was footnotes in her mother's handwriting and along the edges.

It was, apparently, a book about summoning demons.

Taylor had found the book nearly a year prior, but had put it out of her mind. She wasn't up for reading a fantasy book, even if it was rather detailed.

Ludicrously detailed. And at this point, she felt she had nothing to lose. Her father wouldn't be home until the next day: verified by a phone call when she came home. This particular ritual would `summon a demon most suited for aid', apparently. Her train of thought wasn't very thorough, these days.

She wasn't sure what she wanted the demon to do, even now at the cusp of summoning one. Kill the three that tormented her for so long? She wasn't even sure she wanted them dead. She just wanted help, and when everyone would turn away, when someone was too busy, what else did she turn to? What else could she turn to?

She had something here. She didn't even know if it was just some elaborate prank. Her body, her soul, her mind felt frayed. She was tired. Not even bothering to double-check the circle again, she knelt down in front of it, and placed her fingers just so. And she opened her mouth, calling forth her desires.

She stirred. Something oddly pleasurable flowed through her. All she could see, however, was darkness, the shadowy, odd void that was the inside of her eyelids. The pleasure grew, and her breath grew shorter, a soft moan parting from her lips as she started to actually feel her body. She ached, somewhat. Something smelled of sulfur, smoke, and a lightly familiar scent that seemed to overpower everything else. An odd sound, messy and fleshy filled her ears.

She opened her eyes.

She first noticed the ceiling. It had a long crack in it, but it seemed rather superficial. Her body grew warmer, and she slowly started to feel a tension that she never felt before. Realizing she was panting, she gripped her bedsheets— her room. It was rather dark, but why could she see so well. Her hand moved up to adjust her glasses, releasing the head she was gently holding—

Her eyes widened, as she looked down. Down her body, her shirt was still there, covering up her rather modest chest. She didn't recognize her belly, where was the paunch that she usually agonized over? And then...

Then there was the girl.

The first thought was how small she was. She couldn't be over 5 feet tall, at all, by her estimation. Her hair was an almost radiant blonde, she would swear it slightly glowed in the darkness, but it gave off no light.

Then there were the horns. Short and blac, they angled from the sides of her head towards the back. They didn't seem very sharp. At the side of her head, where her ears would be, seemed to have fuzzy, almost cat-like ears. Black on the outside, blonde on the inside. They twitched lightly.

The girl looked up as if she felt her gaze, those red, slitted eyes gazing as her mouth worked around a rather large, thick and fleshy bit of meat. It was absolutely covered in saliva, and, as Taylor noticed, it was attached to her body.

It was as if that realization set her off. Panic, the ridiculous amount of pleasure she felt hit her all at once, and before she could do anything, she came. Hard.

Her body shook as she fought to still herself, her hips raising slightly from the bed as instinct took over, trying to bury her length deeper into the girl's throat. She let out a pleased hum, her throat constricting around her pulsing extra addition as if it was trying to milk her dry. Liquid, thick heat flowed through her meat in ridiculous amounts, her organ pumping an insane amount of cum directly down the mystery girl's throat.

Taylor gasped, groaning as she shot load after load down that squeezing tunnel for almost five minutes. Tears flowed from her eyes and she drooled heavily on her pillow as it ended, her entire body twitching in the aftershock. The girl who seemed to be attached to her cock finally, mercifully yet slowly pulled off, the sound of the meat slowly leaving her throat almost unnaturally loud, before she was finally free from it.

She didn't even cough. She hardly even was breathing hard. Yet Taylor herself was on the verge of passing out, her body filled with an unearthly pleasant ache.

It seemed like forever, or maybe she did pass out and wake up again, but she finally moved her head up, looking at the girl.

Her skin was rather dark. Practically flawless, Taylor spotted not a single scar or blemish. Her eyes were a deep, blood red.

Blood.

Taylor's eyes widened, as she quickly sat up, pulling her body up and away from the girl.

From the demon she summoned.

"W-what? Who? Why?" she babbled, unable to form words.

The girl-demon, chuckled, a wry grin on her face as she maneuvered off of the bed. Her body was just slightly pudgy. Taylor could tell because apparently this demon didn't believe in clothes, and instead had two clinging black strips that reached around to her back.

In the back of her mind, Taylor was happy there was at least one girl somewhere with a chest more diminutive than hers. The demon's was practically flat, just barely puffing out a little bit.Her hands and arms were covered with a soft-looking fur, a deep black with a reddish sheen that matched her ears. Her gaze lowering, she spotted the demon's belly.

It was rather swollen. There was also a rather stylish heart tattoo, just under the bellybutton.

`Demons have bellybuttons...?'

Below that was another square bit of paper, neatly covering her pussy.

And, of course, there was a tail. It was similar to a cat's, aside from what looked like a stiff protrusion at the end. It's fur matched the rest of her body, as well as the fur on her legs, which started mid-thigh and ended at her feet.

Taylor blinked a bit, her brain catching up a bit. Pulling herself up into a sitting position, she looked at the (oddly cute) demon.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but apparently I summoned a demon, you, passed out in the attempt, grew a cock-" at which point Taylor gazed down at said member, still hard and pointing back up at her, practically waving. It was kind of huge, reaching up to her ribs easily, and she noticed the rather large balls under it as well.

"Okay, a really big cock, then you proceeded to— to-"

"Give you a blowjob?" the demon said helpfully.

Taylor nodded, "Yes, that. And now we're here."

The demon girl nodded, a smile revealing just slightly pronounced fangs. "Yep!"

Taylor nodded in return, "Ah, I thought so."

The two remained silent for a minute.

The demon blinked after another minute passed, walking up to Taylor. Touching her slightly, she sighed, watching her tip back onto her bed, out cold.

"Oh, jeez, after all that work to just wake her up too..."

Tattletease: Post Bank

(Автор: doomlord9)

So had another minor thought on Tattletease.

Her 'costume' will probably weaken her power quite abit. Well, not weaken really. It'll be as strong as it ever is but the effectiveness will be much less than in canon.

==Post-Bank Scene==

Victoria flying home while carrying Amy "...Ames? Are you ok?"

Amy blinks and looks at her "Ummm...yeah? Why?"

"Well you've been so quiet...is what Tattletale said still bothering you?"

Amy blushes and mumbles something.

"Hmmm? I couldn't understand that."

"I said I....I didn't hear a word she said..."

"...oh. Oh!"

They fly on in awkward silence together for abit.

"Soooo.....I think Cathrine said she was free this weekend if you're interested...or maybe Lisa!"

"VICKY! That's not....I'm not...and who is Lisa? I don't remember anyone at school named Lisa."

"Oh, it's some girl I met while shopping at the Boardwalk. She was looking at me alot while we talked and she is blond and pretty I guess"

"VICKY! You can't just set me up with some random girl off the street! She might be dangerous!"

"Oh hush, it's my job as your big sister to protect you from being seduced by villains and she looks kinda like Tattletale so time is of the essence! Besides, what are the chances that the one girl I pick happens to be the villain making you so distracted you haven't noticed we have circled our house three times already!"

Amy just blushes in silence as they come in for a landing.

Intrepid: additional scenes

(автор: MrGazzer)

It Is Day Somewhere

Do you ever wonder what it's like to die?

It's a shock.

Something about the sudden feeling of Not Being.

It's always a shock.

Even more so when you just get up twelve seconds later. Exactly twelve seconds, every time. No matter the damage. No matter what is done.

Brained in the head with a rock. Dead. Back in twelve seconds.

Killed in a battle against Roman expansionists bent on killing heathens. Back in twelve seconds.

The First Crusade.

The Second.

The Sixth.

The Tenth. Back in twelve seconds.

Gas Chambers, Burning, Gunshot Wounds Decapitation Vaporization, the list goes on.

Back in twelve seconds.

My name is Omri.

My name, in the language of my birth, means Life. Or Servant, depending who you're asking.

That's all I've got, in the end. Life.

I've had it for a very long time.

A short time ago, fifty years, by my reckoning I decided to be a hero. Who better then a man who had nothing to fear? Whose death was a inconvenience, whose presence could bring a cold and thick fog that weighed heavy on your very bones. Who could track you by scent to the ends of the earth. Who didn't need to sleep, or eat. Who never tired. Never bored. Always just behind you. Someone, Something, to fear. A fear mostly forgotten in modern times. The Fear of the Hunted.

A way to honor my long lost family. To be a hero. To atone for a very long, very sorted past, with a five hundred year period of hedonistic debauchery.

At least.

That's what my memories tell me. The longer set. The clearer set.

The other, so much shorter, so much fuzzier but just as...real, insisted that Omri was not my name.

Omri was a fiction.

Omri was a character, invented for a game of heroes and villains. Mutants and Masterminds. Retired after the gimmick got old. After there stopped being a challenge for The Unkillable Omri.

I wasn't sure which memories I wanted to believe.

"Sir? Sir? Are you alright?" The boy asked, a doctor or medic of some kind. "You...uh...spaced out there, for a second. Are you sure you don't want me to check you for a concussion? Even if it looks like there's no outside damage, you may-"

"I am fine, an old man like me can put up with some pain." The voice that left my lips had a mild accent, it's original tongue long evolved past recondition, it was deep, clear, and took no argument. It was my voice, said the long memory. It was a voice I imagined, said the shorter.

The doctor looked incredulous. "I'm at least twenty years older than you, besides which, you were involved in a car accident and have been unconscious for days I really think you should-"

I smiled knowingly at the doctor. "I'm older than I look. And when I say I am fine. I am fine. What hospital am I in?" I stood from the bed, feet touching cold linoleum looking intimidating despite the thin paper robe.

"Bay General, you're sure you-"

"Doctor. I refuse treatment. My Clothes?"

The doctor sighed, displeased, arms folded, his scent all but screaming his frustration. "They had to be removed to check for injury you're very lucky that-"

"I was unharmed? I am aware. On my person, did you find a key? Old fashioned thing. Keepsake, you understand."

"Well yes, it's right over there with what we could recover." He pointed to a table in the right corner of the room, resting atop it, a wallet, a passport, and a old key, made of bronze, wrapped with leather to make a sort of necklace. I collect the items in question. The key slipping over my neck. "My thanks, Doctor. Have a nice day."

The doctor shouted as I walked out the door, naked but for a thin paper gown. "It's the middle of the night!"

"It is day somewhere, young man, It is always day somewhere!" I answered back, smile on my face.?


* * *

Home

The Key, is, unsurprisingly, the key.

Currently, to a fresh set of clothing. Modesty does not concern an old man like myself. Not having to put up with the police, however, is a another matter entirely.

It thrummed with warmth against my chest. Happy again to see its Guardian. Surely then, what I know must be real, if The Key is real.

It's a Key to one place that fits in any door. The place itself has had many names over the centuries, Atlantis, Dilmun, Shambhala, Edan. Some ancestral memory, of the Place creating myths and legends. It is older even than I am. The Key, in its many forms, was pasted down my line from father to son for as long as my people could remember and our memory was long.

Myself?

I called it Home.

The only place that stayed, the only place that was truly familiar, though out my years. A place I could always go.

If that's not home, what is? My shorter memory flashed to emotional outlines of a room painted blue, with rows of bookshelves. The faint calling of a name, a feeling of familial love.

The longer one had practice, dismissing nostalgia.

I walk to an alley near the hospital, and use my finger to scrape the outline a man sized rectangle into the brick, slowly, I remove The Key from my neck, and press it to faint shape. It sinks back and slides out of existence.

The sound of birdsong, from creature long thought extinct by the rest of the world. The scent of honey, wood, stone and metal. The feeling of a warm sun against my skin. I stepped through the door, it disappearing behind me, walking from night into almost noon day. Before me, a villa on a hill of soft green grass whose plans were crafted, in part, by Leonardo of Vinci. Behind me, a small bit of farm land, and beyond that a forest that I am still attempting to map, when the mood strikes me. Home at last.

Home.

Where all my clothes are.

I lost my favorite sweater in that accident, insists the shorter memory.

My longer could not recall ever being in an accident. It was never wrong. The last thing that it remembers was...was...going Home?

It is correct now, at least. But it doesn't make sense.

What happened between then, and now?

A change of clothes and then I do something I've never done. Retrace my steps.

"Oh..." I mutter to myself, a small personal smile forming on my lips, my fingers stoke at my beard. "Something new. How exciting!"

A Study Of Purple

(Автор: volantredx)

Taylor wondered how she managed to stumble into this situation. She steadfastly did not want to use her powers, didn't want to be a hero. She knew after what happened with Emma and Sophia just how much she could hurt someone without even meaning to. That much stress, that much self-control, it was a drain just to go through the day without something going wrong. Right now though, she really wasn't seeing any sort of option.

All she wanted when she came here was to buy a Snickers. Having some strung out junkie burst in to rob the place was sadly not something she would have said was impossible, but still it wasn't even six pm yet. For god's sake the sun hadn't even gone down. The would-be robber was shaking holding the gun to the clerk, who was apparently not moving fast enough. No one knew she was here, if she slipped out it's likely no one would even see her. Even if someone did no one could know that she could have helped. No one except her of course.

'Damn conscience,' she sighed inwardly. She supposed anyone else in her position would be scared stiff, but frankly with her powers she knew that he was no threat, gun or no gun. So squaring her shoulders up she headed to the counter.

"I mean it, bitch," the robber barked. "Don't fuck me on this one."

"I'm telling you there's nothing else back here," the clerk cried, tears running down her face.

"Bullshit, all you all got safes back there. You think I won't blow you head off?"

"Please no."

"Excuse me," Taylor interjected. At her interruption the gunman whirled around to face her.

"The fuck you want?" His hands trembled as he held the gun at her.

"First I want you to stop pointing that gun at me," she said calmly. The robber gave her a perplexed look, before slowly lowering his weapon. "Cool, now lay it down on the floor and don't pick it up again."

Even more confused the man followed her orders as he put his gun on the ground. Behind him the clerk looked on in amazement.

"Now kneel down and put your hands behind your head and stay that way until the cops come and arrest you." As the junkie knelt to the ground she looked up to the astonished clerk. "You should call the cops."

"I should call the cops," she repeated shifting into a dazed state.

"But don't tell I was here," the last thing Taylor needed to deal with was having people know about this. "Then forget you ever saw me. Do you know how to erase footage from the security tapes?"

"The camera doesn't record, boss says it's too expensive."

"Oh, well that's good," she looked down at the candy bar in her hand. "I'm just going to take this, ok?"

"Ok," the clerk responded dully.

Shrugging Taylor headed back home without any hurry. Her dad wouldn't be home soon. The Ferry Restoration project usually kept him late.

Addie

(Автор: Coruscant Knave)

Taylor's eyes shot open. She was on her side in her bed, facing the wall and her shadow cast by the moonlight. The moment she woke she knew with certainty that something was wrong. She tried to suck in a calming breath, but only managed a shallow gasp. Her heart drummed loudly between her ears and quickened more when she tried to roll over. Her body rocked slightly but remained in place. The signal was sent, the muscles reacted, but the response was muted. She strained against the invisible force holding her in place and could feel it yield a bit with each attempt.

It was like something held in place by friction finally slipped free when she managed it. On her back she could breathe more easily, but her body still resisted her commands.

Peripheral vision let her see most of her small room from where she lay, but despite the evidence before her she was sure there was someone in the room with her.

There was a sensation of falling and her vision began to narrow. It seemed like both the ground was rising up around her and the sky was coming down to meet her. She wasn't sure when she had started seeing the night sky, either, but there it was. Not the night sky of the city, the pale blue-gray with a handful of pinpoints scattered about, but the universe. A view she barely recalled from childhood trips into the mountains. Even the nature camp she'd went to the summer before last had only been a few hours outside of town and couldn't compare.

The Milky Way was spilled across the sky, brilliant blues, reds, oranges and purples flowing around and through each other. And the stars... so many stars...

Space was supposed to be dark and empty, wasn't it? Yet her view was full, packed to the brim with light. She knew she must only be looking at a small portion of it — what little could fill her view — but it seemed tiny and constricting. The more she focused on how she couldn't be right, concentrated on her bed and the walls to center her, the more the feeling grew. She was trapped in the vast expanse, doomed to an inevitable fate. Stagnation. Suffocation.

That was when she noticed the wisps of smoky lines reaching down for her out of that great rift. There was one. There were twelve. There were too many to count. They were all the same.

They were a slight, feminine hand cupping her cheek tenderly —

— she woke again. She had seen something, several somethings. She was sure it was all important. Something not quite as big as the universe she'd been trapped in but just as threatening. But she'd fought back. She'd... it was fading quickly now, but she was sure there was both exultation and profound sadness. A huge accomplishment, celebrated by many, and a quiet isolation tainted by something missing.

"Sorry about all that. We're all who we are because of where we come from, and we can't change that. All we can do is try to move forward. I hope you can help, and I'll help you in turn."

Taylor didn't jump or startle at the solidifying image of a woman floating above her, hand still cradling her cheek. After all, she'd known she'd been there since she awoke, and another person was much less of a shock that the other things she'd already seen. The memories were fading quickly, but the emotions she'd felt lingered.

She was there and not there. Gone if she tried to focus and there when she relaxed. The stars and nebulas still lit the sky behind her, but they were darkening and shrinking. It reminded her of the trapped feeling, and her heart raced once more. She idly noted that she could move freely again after hugging herself tightly.

The thumb of the hand on her face was drawn across her cheek; collecting moisture she didn't know was there as another hand held one of hers and squeezed tightly. They were nearly scalding to the touch, insisting on their existence in contention with cold reality. The figure floating above now seemed to contain all that had been spread out before her, and it glowed and pulsed as if the body was its source all along.

"Shush, hon. It's okay. Everything's okay, now," the figure spoke softly. The sound was distant and unclear, something like radio static hissing between and over syllables, but Taylor still understood. Had she been making a sound? She wasn't sure.

Tendrils, not unlike those that had first reached down to her, extruded and then solidified into dark curls of hair framing a strange but familiar face. The cosmic light dimmed and pale skin asserted itself over the human outline. A warm, wide smile greeted her.

She almost said it out loud, almost voiced the first, desperate thought that came to her. But the differences were there. Too young, not much older than herself. The eyes the wrong color and the jaw was more angular. The body's proportions, pale and bare to her eyes, were off as well. It didn't fit her first thought, and she wasn't sure if her second was more or less crazy. The differences disappointed her somehow, as if she'd already accepted them.

Now she could hear her own sobs, awareness of some effect like her ears popping allowing the missing sounds of the world back in where she hadn't noticed their absence before. At the same time, a weight settled on top of her and the comforting arms embraced her fiercely. She tensed, waiting for the panic of claustrophobia to strike again, but it never came.

"It's fine. I'm here. It's okay, Taylor," the voice continued. The static was gone but now she couldn't tell if it was her own voice, the voice of the figure, or the thoughts in her head. "I'll never leave you again."

The hands holding her roamed for a while, painting existence and reality over her. She warmed and relaxed. Her breathing steadied and the tears trailed off. She relaxed into the woman's hands, pushing herself into them when she could and uncoiling clenched muscles when they passed. The blanket between them was moved and the heat increased. Both hands now held her head and she locked eyes with the woman. They shined brightly, twin novas blowing clouds of blues and oranges forever outward.

Her eyes closed instinctually when their lips met and her surprise was smothered in intrigue. The memories of what she'd seen in the sky were all gone but for the knowledge of their absence. Rational thought was returning now that she was safe and reunited with... she didn't know. She thought that she should, that the obscene familiarity of the other could not be discarded. It was there, in the things she had forgotten, and the harder she focused the easier the thoughts evaded her.

The kiss, though! Her legs stretched out and back arched. She brought her own hands up to hold those of her savior, and fingers interlaced. The kiss deepened and she felt a contentedness she'd never known. It continued until she needed to remember to breathe through her nose, and continued further. The fingers of their linked hands played with one another while their bodies tried fruitlessly to merge into a single being.

It ended suddenly when the woman pulled back. She leaned on Taylor's clasped hands that were now pinned beside her head. There were tears in her eyes, but she was every bit the mirror to Taylor's own elated satisfaction.

"Wha — who are you?" Taylor asked quietly.

"You know already, don't you? Though that isn't quite right, it's close enough." She released her hands and sat back, weight fully settling on the pajama'd waist below her. It wasn't uncomfortable.

"I think, but," her brow scrunched together and she turned her head to the side. Eventually she turned back, having come to a decision. "What do I call you?"

"Well, I'm quite fond of Taylor, but that's probably not a good idea. How about Queen?"

Taylor choked a snort, but her amusement fell away when she saw `Queen' looking quite serious and mildly offended. "I don't think I can call you that. I... don't like the implications. I, we, if we're going to make this work, I think we need to be equals."

"Oh, Taylor. This is why I love you. But I assure you I'm quite deserving of the name!" She paused as a protest was formed, then talked over it. "However, I get it."

She kissed her again, diving in nearly as deep as before but cutting it so frustratingly short. Her mouth moved to Taylor's ear and the words made her tremble.

"Call me Addie."

Taylor turned and gave Addie a peck on the side of her mouth. "It's a beautiful name, Addie. What is it short for?"

The deep kiss was back with quivering lips. Little shivers and shudders followed the path of the fingers now under her pajama top. She gasped and squirmed into Addie while a naked, pearly thigh was between her legs moving just so.

Taylor wanted desperately to return the attentions, to explore the body on top of her. She found these attempts shrugged off at first. She'd relent for a while and bask in the pressure that was building, and then try again. The rebukes were harsher each time. A nibble on her lower lip became a bite. A hand brushed aside was instead slapped away. The kicker was when her hair was pulled. Her eyes shot open and her toes curled. It felt like every nerve in her body was attached to the tuft of hair in Addie's palm, and tugging on it lit her on fire.

She shrunk under the other's reproachful gaze. She'd said she wanted to be equals. Her savior had agreed, hadn't she? This was supposed to make things right, supposed to give her back control of her life.

But this was also a choice, wasn't it? And she felt so safe, so complete in Addie's arms...

The grip on her hair loosened, and it was missed. Movement resumed elsewhere, though, and it almost made up for it.

She still made those token resistances, the game apparent to both. She especially enjoyed the tweaks and pinches to her nipples, but Addie had already moved on.

Her hands were free now, so she took to experimenting herself, top pulled up to her neck. It was the anticipation, she found, more than the actual pain. So she'd rub circles around the nipple, pinch the flesh outside the areola lightly with a rhythm. Only sometimes did she `slip' and capture the nub itself. When she did, she'd twist, or use even more pressure, or immediately pull away.

A chuckle pulled her attention back to Addie who had been working to remove her bottom. Her hands shot away and eyes darted to the side, cheeks flushed.

"It's okay. I'm happy for you, hon. Lift for me?"

She complied with a smile, and her pajama pants were discarded along with her underwear. She took the opportunity to shrug out of her top as well. Addie leaned down and began kissing around her stomach while massaging her hips and thighs. Embarrassment swelled each time the bits of fat around her lower body were gripped and smoothed, but the occasional moan slipped past her teeth anyway.

Taylor bucked and nearly screamed when Addie sharply bit a spot at the top of her pelvis. Addie rode this out, still biting and gripping the kicking legs. The full-body tingle and heat was diminishing, but Addie caught and held it level with more kisses down her side. The path ended with a peck on the top of her knee while she began to knead and rub Taylor's calf. The massage switched from leg to leg, and sometimes wandered to the back and side of the knee as well as the quads above.

Taylor had ceased all her own movement except for small twitches and gripping the sheets. Her entire consciousness lived beneath Addie's fingers, which pulled and pushed her through the medium of flesh. A bite or pinch was a pirouette in the dance that had her floating away, only to suffuse back through her own body in time for it to happen again.

Her gut leapt at the sensation of warm breath over her crotch. The sweet anticipation was too much and she tried to pull away in an irrational panic. Too late. The mouth closed around a spot that had so far been ignored.

Thunder crashed between her ears and her vision swam. In contrast to the earlier orgasm, Taylor went completely limp and insensate.

She thought again of the cosmos she'd glimpsed. Things were missing, important things, but that first panorama she'd seen was still there in perfect resolution when she called on it. It pulled her in and she drifted, guided by some unseen, massive gravity.

Addie was speaking to her, but she couldn't understand. In her mind, she had settled into a low orbit about an alien world made of mirrored crystal. Or maybe it was just that gigantic, that the surface seemed within reach of an outstretched hand. But there were rings and countless moons in the distance, all making the proportions and sizes seem impossible. The planet watched her, she knew. It held her there, examined her, greedily absorbed her image in its reflective surface.

Addie's fingers slipped inside of her while she sucked and licked Taylor's breasts. She knew this was happening, could feel the electricity arcing between her upper and lower body, but she remained in that island in space.

A new kind of pressure was forming. Her head was being pulled one way while her feet another. It would pull as far as she could take it, then relent only to try again. The contractions warmed her core, and fire snaked outward through her being. The moons spun around the blue orb faster and faster; the rings glowed white.

Addie continued, varying the number of fingers she used, where she used them. Both hands and mouth were given to Taylor's pleasure, all focusing on that single point between her legs, then teeth and tongue staying while the hands traveled upwards to ply and pull. The hands soon came back, though, and they scraped coos of approval from Taylor's supine body.

At some unseen signal, Addie brought herself back up to Taylor's head, leaving only a single hand to continue its work. Three fingers were steadily picking up speed while the thumb wove circles around the crown.

She kissed Taylor, transitioning from a nibble on her lower lip to a fuller, deeper connection as she cautiously took hold of her beautiful curls.

In sequence, she pulled hard on the hair she held and curled the fingers of her other hand. Finally, she pushed firmly down on Taylor's clitoris, holding it between her thumb and those curled fingers.

The pull on Taylor was too much and she tore open, though even as the break seemed to originate in her lower body the feeling of leaking out through her head was intense. All the while, the serene planet below watched. She was leaving herself, spreading out through the space around her. The familiar tug was still present, though, and she was certain she'd be joining those rings she'd seen. She smiled.


* * *

Daylight woke her, which was something new. She was usually well awake and out of bed by the time the sun's journey would have put it in a position to do so. Milky arms held her from behind, accompanied by a light snore. Taylor spun around madly and threw her arms around Addie's sleeping head.

"You're real! Oh, thank god, you're real." Addie dealt with the awakening as well as could be expected, sputtering and jumping before getting her bearings. She stroked Taylor's head for a while then pulled her into her breast, chin on her head as Taylor sniffled and whimpered. They lay there for a long while before they were interrupted.

Through the haze of recent sleep and her hysteria, Taylor heard the fall of feet on stairs and shortly after a knock on her door. "Taylor," her dad's voice was raised with intent to wake, "you picked a hell of a time to start sleeping in. You up?"

It took her a moment to collect herself and hope she just sounded tired. "Yeah, I'm up. Just a slow start."

"Okay, I have to get going. You going to make it to the bus on time?"

"Yeah, no problem," she said without looking at the clock.

"Okay, see you later."

"You're not going to school today," Addie ordered once the front door had closed.

"Why?"

"Trust me? Please?"

"Okay."

Clean Up

(Автор: DoggySoup)

It's been three weeks, and it was Emma's shift, watching over Taylor.

Three weeks since they'd moved her to a hiding place Sophia used in one of the many abandoned buildings in the Docks, three weeks of taking turns bathing and feeding her as her own nerves were too weak to allow herself to move.

Three weeks of gradual deterioration. Taylor could barely move her muscles at all. It was obvious that something got into her, and they knew it was getting worse. The issue was just how bad it had gotten, and the lack of options. They took her out to avoid an accidental murder, but they've been keeping her to avoid arrest.

Still, they at least didn't want to let her die. There was a limit.

Emma walked into the basement and stopped at the ajar door, holding the collection of food and sanitary supplies in the rucksack. The door was ajar which did confuse her as Madison was supposed to lock it, but it didn't matter because Taylor couldn't move it anyway. At first, it was simple enough to put something behind the door as she barely had any strength in the first place. Now, she couldn't even crawl.

She shook away a thought and peered through the door, only to jump back at the sight.

Merchants.

Her heart rate spiked, her breath increased heavily and she dared another peek.

Three men and a woman were standing and sitting in a small circle as a nude body lay before them, unmoving. Taylor was wide eyed and limp, back to the floor as one of th larger men crossed his feet and used her as a footrest. Emma squinted and saw a small glimmer of drool leak from Taylor's lips, and oh god is that—

Emma threw up. She stopped, grabbed her hair and threw up again.

After the third time, She heard footsteps and ran.


* * *

One hour and a phone call later, Shadow Stalker was the one to enter the basement. She glided slowly like a leaf from the ceiling, and make a quick spin to scan the room.

"It's just Taylor, Ems."

Emma walked into the room as the vigilante walked over to Taylor's prone body. She was covered in dirt, small grazes and cuts and liquids. "Christ, they did a number on her."

The redhead didn't reply.

"...let's just get her cleaned and moved before they come back," Stalker finished, bending over to lift Taylor up.

She hesitated for a moment as she picked her up.


* * *

Sophia's eyes opened to a pale white room consisting of nothing but two wooden chairs and Taylor. She knew she was dreaming, somehow. It wasn't the obviously surrealistic environment, or the knowledge she was sleeping in her bed, or the fact Taylor wasn't slumped over like a lifeless puppet before her, holding a cup of tea.

"Where am I?"

"In your room," Taylor supplied. She took a small sip of the tea. "Mmm, Jayell's Brand. Tastes smooth."

Sophia shrugged away the context Taylor's words were giving her. Jayell's Brand; the first tea she drank when she was a kid, just to see what her parents were doing. Her mother still buys it. She didn't like the taste, it was as bad as cigarettes were to her young taste buds.

"I know this is... Different?"

"Yes, this isn't a normal dream."

Sophia walked over to the chair and sat on it, facing Taylor.

"Thanks for taking care of me. I know this may seem weird, but I mean it. You still... You still did what you did, and I hate that. I really do hate it, but this whole bathing me and watching over me... M-making sure I don't fall on my arm or choke... Thank you."

Sophia didn't budge an inch. She felt a scowl form. "That's-"

"I'm still going to get my own back however," Taylor interrupted, taking another sip. "Firstly on you, Emma and Madison."

Sophia tensed up. "How?"

Taylor smiled. "Since you've done so well to take care of my while I'm awake, I'll just take care of you while you're asleep."

Something made a metallic jangle, and Sophia immediately jumped up, only to be yanked backwards by the metal chains that had crept up on her.

"You see, I don't want to hurt you, since you three are the only people taking care of me."

The chains pulled taught, slowly. one on each arm. Sophia gasped a struggling breath as she was raised into the air. "Let go!"

Taylor didn't listen. Instead, she continued, getting up and dropping the teacup on the floor where it vanished instead of shattered. "But on the other hand, it is your fault."

The chains pulled tightly enough Sophia's only movable ligament was her neck.

"So I'm going to punish you where I can; your dreams. Every night I'll have my fun and if you mistreat me or hurt me or fail to lock the fucking door I'll do something bad," Taylor's hand changed shape into a claw. A single swipe cut through Sophia's garments. "And if you treat me well..."

The chains disappeared. Sophia fell to the floor. As she picked herself up, she felt a crossbow in her hands. She whirled on the spot, turning to look for Taylor. Maybe if she shot her the dream would end? It didn't matter as she caught sight of a new figure in chains. Stephen.

"I'm not some cheap horror movie villain, Sophie. Injuries don't carry over. But he's going to dream about whatever pain you give him."

Sophia smiled, then fired a bolt into his gut.


* * *

"Come on Sophia, you know what you have to do!"

Sophia sat naked in a glass box as the crowd of people slowly gathered. They were people, but simulated. However, the embarrassment was real.

Sophia tried a third time, sticking her hands deep into her wet vagina in an attempt to pull out the small egg lodged inside. If she did that, then she could get out of this glass box that she's trapped in. Otherwise...

She was already hating Taylor's punishments. If this was what it was like for something she didn't do, then a punishment for something she did might be much worse.

Poor Madison.

She reached further into herself than she managed the last two times, far enough that she actually felt the buzzing object in her fingers. Just a little more... ...and she accidentally pushed it further in and screamed as the orgasm building hit her. This was the fifth one in an hour.

She could hear the crowd laughing at her from the other side of the glass case.

"Fucking dammit!" she yelled.

More laughing.


* * *

"Emma, You're done?"

Taylor lay on a table, watching as Emma massaged her butt.

"Holy fuck tasers hurt."

"Not only that, what did you learn?"

Emma gulped. She tried to hide it, but she did.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled under hear breath.

Taylor held up a cattle prod next to her pierced nipple.

"I didn't hear you, Emma."

Emma's eyes went wide like saucers. "I'msorryforeverythingI'vedoneforthelastthreeyears!"


* * *

Sophia was still trying her hardest to grab the vibrator, but it had gotten to the state where she had no energy left. She was left panting, naked as her body twitched from overstimulation.

"G-god damnit," she breathed lightly. "T-taylor, you win already. I can't handle this."

"Holy shit."

Sophia immediately shot her arms over her privates and spun around.

"Taylor, this isn't funny! Come on!"

"You're in a dream too, huh?" Emma asked.

Sophia relaxed as well as a naked girl who is exhausted and trapped in a glass box with a vibrator inside her could. Not that much, surprisingly.

"Emma, Sophia needs a hand getting something."

Sophia's eyes widened. "No! No, I can do it myself!"

"Really?" Taylor's voice asked.

"Y-yeah, really."

"Then do it."

"W-with Emma here?"

"Oh come on, you did it in front of a crowd," Taylor supplied.

"Uugh... Fuck... I... This is too cruel, come on..."

"Time flies when you're having fun Sophia. I could have you in here for what feels like years. Just pull it out already, or ask for Emma's help."

Sophia sat down again, looked at Emma and she blushed like a stop sign.


* * *

"Oh god oh god oh god."

"It's easy, Madison. Look, I'm doing it!"

Madison watched as Taylor swam in the literal ocean of live, writhing and swarming insects, circling the small life raft with a backstroke as it slowly sunk.

"Land is only 10 Miles away, you can make it if you keep to a good pace!"

Like Totally Cheerful And Stuff!

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

A high-pitch scream can from the alley. With the dim streetlight I could make out the shaven heads of those shit-stain E88 scum from my perch on the rooftop. Couldn't see who screamed, but justifiable reason enough to give the Pig if she wants to no why I roughed up some skinheads.

I slipped the tranq bolt into crossbow and a second later the first of the three bastards hit the pavement. It was a satisfying thud when his head bounced off the brick wall.

The second one who was all muscle yells, " It's Shadow Stalker, run!" as he starts to tail it out of the alley. The bolt lands right in his ass as he lands face first on the ground. I couldn't of planned a more hilarious shot.

The third one looks to be in his early teens with an ache ridden face below shaven hair. I phased just in time as the I spotted the dark-glint of the gun. Bullets passed through me as the only who wasn't a pathetic coward unloaded the clip.

Before he reloaded, I launched another bolt. This one landed right in his eye. Blood dripped down his face as he feel. Even a tranq bolt could cause serious injury if it hit a soft spot. Severs that fucker right.

I phased as I jump to slow my fall, and landed in the alley. White ties went around the hands of my prey, then I looked around to see if the one who screamed was still around. Only thing left other than the trash was a pink and white pom-pom. Doesn't match the school colors of the any school in the Bay.

"Like you totally, like, save me from those bad men." came a voice form the direction of fabric.

'Did I just hear a piece of clothing talk?' I spun on my heel towards the voice.

The pom-pom rustled and shook as it indeed talked," I was like trying to warn the people of this planet that the totally uncool sex demons from beyond the star were like going to invade and such. They like already took over the planet I was like made at the Planet of the Bimbo Cheersluts, and it is like so uncool ya'know?

'It is what an LSD trips feels like? It seems very tame for a bunch of nonsense'

"Blah, blah, blah, empower warriors, blah blah, and so like I got to find five girls to empower so they can fight those lame-o loser demons when they like come. That like hard work and stuff, so your like the first girl I've found so I pick you as number one."

Pink light started to glow from the pom-pom and I attempted to widen the distance between the insane talking fabric and myself. I didn't even make it half-way out of the alley as before I was enveloped by the bright pink beam.


* * *

I failed to evade the light coming from the damn stupid alien pom-pom as my vision was filled with pink. A painfully hot pink seared my eyes as a heat started to build in my crotch.

My body moved on its own as my hands went towards my chest. I could feel the breast-flesh swell as until my hands could no longer contain their mass. My lips unwillingly parted as an moan escaped.

The weight on my hand increased and increased as my hair trailed down to my ass. In my pink-induced blindness I could still feel the stands being pulled. The fabric of ribbons wrapped them into two long strands onto the side of my head.

My legs spread apart out side of my control as I could feel the stretching of my hips. Something appeared in my hands as they wrapped tightly around the rods. One hand lunged forward while another slapped my rear that jiggled with its swollen mass.

I jumped in the air and screamed as a thunderous organism racked my body as the fucking transformation finally came to an end.

With a clack of heels, I landed onto the ground. Gone was my Shadow Stalker costume, gone was the my crossbow, gone was any shred of decency, gone was any amount of mercy.

"What the fucking shit sugar did you do you me, you fucking thing."

I ran the heel of the pink and white high heeled tennis shoe into the source of the fucking change. Everything was a bimboish pink and white. The tube top that didn't even cover the enlarged breasts. The tiny pleated skirt than was short enough to show that nothing covered my pussy. The ribbons that pulled my ass-length hair into pigtails. The pom-poms that my hands still haven't dropped.

Nurse Willbourne

(Автор: Coruscant Knave)

It turns out being blown up sucks. My concussion seemed to have mostly gone away, but everyone was very insistent that not only do the effects last days to weeks, things can get way worse if I'm not careful.

So, that's why I've been lying in bed for the past few days. Oh, and all the other injuries. Moving about on my own was difficult, but I can easily imagine myself running out to help the Undersiders and anyone else caught up in the fighting if I was even a little better off. I still might, but Brian, Alec, and Lisa have been taking shifts watching over me when Dad was at work. Rachel even had a brief turn.

It was sweet. Humiliating, but sweet.

A soft knock distracted me from my brooding, and I looked up to see Lisa standing in the doorway to my bedroom. She was smiling, as usual, but the curl of her lips wasn't quite there. Her eyes were sullen and she was having trouble keeping eye contact.

"Hey," I said when she didn't enter or speak herself. My voice was drowsy, still, since it was the first time I'd spoken since waking up a few minutes earlier. She jumped slightly, then visibly collected herself.

"Hey you. I'm up for the evening. How are you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess. No more headaches or dizziness or anything. Leg still feels like death, though."

"That's... good. Need anything? Food, water?" She hesitated, "bathroom?"

Now I couldn't look at her, and had to resist the urge to hide under my blankets. I pulled them a bit tighter, anyway. "Some water would be nice."

"Sure, no problem," she chirped, and smiled at me a bit too mischievously. Uhg, damn you, Bakuda.

I didn't need any help using the bathroom, just a shoulder to get me there. However, things were a bit different those first few hours home. I was more or less completely out of it. Lisa, being the only one not a guy or Rachel, had drawn the short straw. Though, now that I thought about it, Rachel taking care of me might have been more dignified. Which was weird, since it probably meant being treated like a dog, but I got the sense that I wouldn't feel judged. I didn't really think Lisa had judged me, but it was more embarrassing being seen like that by her, and she has definitely been acting strange since then.

Lisa had taken more shifts watching over me than anyone else, and she fussed over me like a mamma bear.

Case in point, she returned with more than just water. Also on the tray she carried were apple slices and first aid supplies.

"My dressings are fine," I huffed. "Checked them when I woke up. And you cleaned and redid them last night!"

"This is important, Taylor. I know what I'm doing. Here, enjoy. I'll do it when you're done."

She laid the tray in my lap and sat down in her seat next to me. I call it her chair deliberately, since no one else stays in here with me for almost their entire shift like Lisa does. She was quiet, and I let the silence linger while eating and drinking and pretending I didn't notice her watching me.

When I'd finished, she jumped up and quickly collected the dishes. She didn't leave immediately, though, and set the trey down. When she turned back to me, I didn't like what I saw.

Before I could defend myself, she reached out and dragged a finger over my lip. I starred dumbly at her as she pulled away with a bit of apple stuck to her finger. She put the finger in her mouth and slurped up the residue with her eyes closed and head lolling. After way longer than necessary, she withdrew it with a pop, licked her finger and lips clean, and then winked at me.

What the hell?

Before I could formulate an adequate response, she had picked up the dishes and skipped away.

Seriously, the hell?

Lisa gave me plenty of time to stew in confusion, since she didn't return for thirty-seven minutes. Not that I'd been staring at the clock while waiting for her, or anything. Something about her behavior bugged the hell out of me. The entire time I'd been injured, she flipped between walking on egg shells around me and being so handsy and attentive — well, it was pretty easy to guess.

It was foolish to think you could walk away from a goddamn bomb tinker with just a bump on the head. At least I'd saved my... yeah, my friends.

So, I was going to make her tell me. I had the words all lined up. I'd let her know how pissed I was that she's trying to keep it from me. Figure out how best I could help with whatever time I had left. Make sure my dad was taken care of.

I forgot all of that when she finally returned.

Leaning on the door frame, one hand on a cocked hip, was the sluttiest nurse I'd ever seen. The pink uniform probably stopped less than a quarter of the way to the knee since, in her current position, it rode up enough that her hand was actually on the hip itself. The other hand hung at her side and held the first aid kit.

Following that hand, though, brought my attention to the black stocking and garter belt. They were mostly see-through except for in key places, and pink frills and laces ran the length. The panties, the only thing covering her from my sight, had a gap running down the front that ended just in time. The gap was bridged by more lace and capped with a bow at the top.

My face burned and I couldn't look any longer. Going higher didn't help, though. The top had only a single button done up, and her smooth stomach was on display above the bow. Beyond that, a matching black and pink bra hid very little.

Rounding out the package, she'd gone all out with makeup. Cherry red lipstick, blush on the cheeks, and dark eye shadow.

I sat there, staring, unable to look away no matter how much my brain screamed at me to. The outfit was absurd, really, something out of a cartoon. The way Lisa wore it, though... I'd always known she was pretty. Beautiful, even, when she got dressed up. Her Tattletale persona definitely played up her sexuality.

This was something else. Every line of the outfit, every color, every bit of exposed skin, it was all perfectly calculated. Harnessed. Weaponized. I said the first thing that came to mind.

"No paper hat?"

She'd been about to take a step forward — probably more of a sway than a step — but halted at my question, eyes wide.

We both started laughing about the same time, and I felt much better. It was getting easier to think, now that I was doing something besides just looking at Lisa and she wasn't standing there like that.

She regained her composure after a moment, and I'm pretty sure I heard a muttered "damn you." And now she was back in character, shit. I managed to peel my eyes away, but my bonfire-cheeks weren't going anywhere.

Lisa approached the bedside, somehow magically translating side-to-side hip motion into forward progress. I tried to think of something to say, but couldn't. I turned to say something anyway and yelped.

She was bent over me and had her face inches from mine. She grabbed my head to keep me from pulling back further, and in a frightening moment where I had no idea what she was doing, touched her forehead to mine.

"You're burning up, dear. I'll have to check for a fever. But first, we need to clean and redress those wounds!"

"Lisa, wha — "

Tut, tut," she talked over me, finger wag and all. "Nurse Wilbourn."

I gave her my best defiant stare, but her smile just widened. Then, before I could stop her, she tore off my blanket and crawled on to the bed.

On the bright side, I didn't feel like I was dying anymore. No, this was surely proof I was already dead. Though whether I was in heaven or hell was a tossup.

She'd done this a few times already, barring the outfit and act, and it had been embarrassing each time. But now, as she rolled up my pajama leg, I could barely stand it. She used both hands and went excruciatingly slowly, touching my legs with her wrists and palms more than the cotton. The sensation tracked its way behind her and spread out to the rest of my body. It was hard not to shiver or jerk about.

I looked down toward her and caught her eyes on me. That same smile she always had looked so different now, and not just because of the lipstick. I gulped, suddenly finding my mouth and throat very dry. I broke eye contact for the glass of water.

When I was finished, she had removed the bandages and started cleaning. She went slow, maddeningly slow. It was hard to sit still, but the longer it went on the less I wanted to shrink away. It was soothing even as my heart beat quicker. I sunk into the bed and let her work.

After a long, long while, she'd finished and moved on to my other wounds. The leg was by far the worst, but I also had cuts and bruises on my stomach, side, and arms. She crawled all over me, taking her time with each one, and pressing her burning hot body against me the entire way. She was extremely careful not to apply pressure or bump any of the places that still hurt, though the movement still angered them slightly. I didn't mind so much.

Damp, warm cloth dabbed and scrubbed. Soft hands caressed and braced. The entire time I could hear her breathing and feel her heartbeat. I'd never spent so much time so close to another person, and it was getting hard to think straight. I had forgotten to breathe a few times, remembering in a sudden gasp after a certain touch or tingle.

She ran her fingers around the fresh bandage on my, thankfully much flatter as of late, belly before planting an exaggerated kiss on a spot where flesh met gauze. It left a bright red stamp in the shape of her lips, but it may as well have been burned into me with a branding iron.

She looked up at me again with that same-but-different smile, and I fought for control of my mouth. I wanted to say something, to ask her why she was doing this. Why she was doing it with me. I wanted to plead with her for... something. I didn't know what.

Starring into Lisa's eyes, though, I saw something there. She was begging me in turn, and I couldn't deny her. I didn't want to.

She continued on to my arm. That same slow, deliberate pace was kept the entire way. We were closer than ever, now, and the room was filled with labored breathing. I closed my eyes. I don't think I could deal with another look at her like the one before, not with her so near.

Every time she touched my arm I squirmed. My legs were held together tightly, and every bit of movement sent ripples through me.

She finished with the last bandage, and I both felt and heard the movement as she dug through the kit for something. I didn't dare to look, so I just focused on breathing and being as still as I could. If I moved any more...

Lisa's hand on my chin shocked my eyes open. She was close again, though not quite as close as when she'd put her hand on my forehead, and turned my head to face her directly.

"Say `ah', Taylor," she sung.

"I — wha — you," I couldn't talk.

She waved a small thermometer in front of me. "Ah?"

I opened my mouth and raised my tongue while my whole body shook minutely. She inserted the thermometer, careful not to poke me with it. She mimicked closing her own mouth around one, and I followed suit. Her hand moved from my chin, slowly crawling up to cup my cheek.

"Hold it for me, Taylor, until I tell you. And be a good girl. It's going to take several minutes."

I nodded slightly, my mind more gone than ever. Lisa smiled at my in response, and I really liked this one.

We stayed that way, locked on each other. Her face was so close to mine, and her hand still held me. Time passed in parceled-out heartbeats, agonizing in their regularity as I waited for whatever came next.

Eventually, after enough time had passed that I was ready to speak up, Lisa brought her other hand to my head and leaned the rest of the way to me.

Her lips touched my forehead and I wanted to scream. I don't know what I'd expected or wanted, but this wasn't it. It burned me anyway, and I wanted to grab on to her and hold her there forever.

It didn't last, though, and her head traveled down so that we were cheek to cheek. She slowly pulled the thermometer out, and turned her head slightly so she could just see it out of the corner of her eye.

Her low, breathy voice touched my ear, "Good girl, Taylor. You did good."

Quicker than I could register, she was off of me and standing up with her hands on her hip. "No fever, and your bandages are all taken care of! I'm going to go get lunch started. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

She didn't wait for an answer and I was speechless as Lisa bound out of the room, both for the obvious reasons and because holy shit her ass was hanging out with only the barest hint of the lace that framed it.

I flopped back down and stared at the hot red mark on my stomach for a long while.

Rebound

(Автор: doomlord9)

Taylor is starting to get really stressed out lately. Between being outed, continuing to protect the city after the PRT was forced out via angry citizens who had enough with their shit and them attacking the ones actually protecting them, and the breakup with Brian, she is stretched to her limit. Thankfully the breakup wasn't as bad as it could have been even though it couldn't be called clean by any means.

Lisa suddenly walks into Taylor's office lair and without a word walks behind Taylor. Taylor tries to ask what is going on only to be shushed by a finger to her lips before Lisa's fingers start rubbing her temples. She begins to relax into the massage, her tension headache fading slowly. Lisa slowly and methodically massages down her neck and begins to rub Taylor's shoulders, her fingers mapping all of the knots recent events have caused. Taylor hisses in discomfort as she prods and rubs the knots until a low groan escapes when the knots slowly release, not realizing how tense she has been as she relaxes further as Lisa hunts and relieves every knot with extreme prejudice.

A period of time later she feels Lisa's hands on her waist as they begin to lift her shirt. She raises her arms to let it slide off her and lays face down on the bed.....bed? When did they get into the bedroo— her thoughts cut off as Lisa's skilled fingers begin their work on her back. Her thought seem to slide from her head as those hands and finger seem to just know exactly where they need to go for the best result....which given who is controlling them they probably do. Her fingers slide so smoothly Taylor almost wonders if she brought oil for this.

Taylor is so relaxed by the time Lisa begins working on her bare legs, she spares only a moment to wonder when her pants had been removed before drifting back into a gentle haze of contentment. Lisa's hands slowly make their way up her legs, tracing the defined muscle months of running and then heavy cape activity has given her. When her hands reach the top of her thighs and begin massaging her firm butt, Taylor responds with nothing more than a soft hum of pleasure.

After a few minutes of enjoying the sensations she feels Lisa crawl from her position above Taylor's legs and gently trying to roll her over. Taylor let's herself be moved without a sound or even opening her eyes, content to just lay there and enjoy the pampering as even her insects as lazily trailing patterns in the air as Lisa begins to work on her front. Nothing was missed, her neck, collarbone, stomach, arms, Lisa paid attention to them all before turning her attentions towards Taylor's modest chest. Rather than be disappointed with what is offered Lisa seemed to delight in showing the same attentiveness and dedication towards her chest as she did to her butt.

Taylor has begun to breathe a little heavier by the time Lisa decides to move on. Still keeping her eyes closed she feels Lisa lay next to her and her hand slowly working its way down her belly. When her fingers come to rest on the bare skin of her pussy, Taylor doesn't even question where her panties went and simply lets her legs fall open at Lisa's silent urging.

The only sounds in the room are Taylor soft pants, gasps, and moans of pleasure as Lisa takes her time to slowly wind Taylor up, her fingers always moving before the sensations became intense enough to set her off early.

After a period of time that felt like hours, Taylor feels Lisa's fingers change how they are moving, trusting and rubbing with a more determined pace as she feels that ball in her gut wind tighter and tighter. Just as Lisa gently rolls her over the edge into her climax Taylor feels a soft pair of lips on her own, kissing her tenderly and eagerly swallowing the sounds of her pleasure as Lisa expertly draws Taylor into another climax before the first ends, tenderly drawing several more climaxes from Taylor one after the other before drawing her hand back and cupping her pussy as she finally lets Taylor wind down.

As the nearly delirious Taylor attempts to mumble what may have been a question, she is again shushed softly and told to go to sleep. Feeling more relaxed than she can ever remember and now tired on top of it, Taylor does so.

After the most restful sleep she can ever remember having, Taylor slowly crawls her way into consciousness and finally begins processing exactly what happened the night before. She has no idea what that was but...she doesn't regret it.


* * *

So...that was a thing. Lisa deciding to help Taylor relax and catch her on the rebound? Aisha plotting with Lisa to help her get over Brian?

I dunno, I just had that scene in my head and it wouldn't go away. Go do magic writing things, make it real, and you can answer those questions for me.

In completely unrelated news, can you guess which section of xvideos I wandered my way into recently?

Almost Perfect(?)

(Автор: Vague Wanderer)

My powers were almost perfect.

They'd gotten me out of the locker. I'd bent the door, but the school believed me when I said a guy with a crowbar had let me out. Didn't care enough to check, I guess.

I could fly. Supersonic, even. Broke some windows finding that out.

I was crazy strong and tough. I could pick up the front of dad's car with my pinkie, and I was bulletproof, maybe even rocketproof.

The only drawback was needing to shift to do everything. When I was regular old Taylor Hebert, I was...regular old Taylor Hebert. I had to use my Changer power to shift to use my powers.

Most of that wasn't bad. It was like having a built in secret identity. I didn't need a mask. I looked completely different shifted. Better, in almost every way. I was built like an amazon princess, with tits and ass that should have been too much, but somehow managed to look just right on my muscled frame. My hair, the only thing I liked about myself, was even better, and my face was completely different— gone were my too wide lips and and oversized ears, replaced with something beautiful.

I just really wish it didn't come with a cock.

I'd tried to change it. I'd spent hours in my room changing back and forth, trying to will it away. No dice. It was a package deal. I was stuck with it.

But I wasn't going to let that stop me from being a Hero. So instead I'd focused on hiding it. I'd added a skirt to the costume I was sewing, used it to hide some extra room in the crotch.

I was convinced I was ready. That I could keep my...deformity secret.

I was wrong. I hadn't planned on having Menja throw Glory Girl at me on my first night out. I hadn't planned on her hand grabbing below the belt as we tumbled through the air.

And I really hadn't planned on Glory Girl being on the rebound and looking to "experiment". Which is why I was waiting downstairs in the Dallon house while Victoria got ready.

I just wish I knew why Amy looked so sick. Was it something she ate?

Santa CYOA

(Автор: BigBoom550)

"And have you been a good girl this year, Miss Fortuna?"

Alexandria's eye twitched as she watched Contessa, seated on the lap of an old, white-bearded man, nod happily. "Yep! I stopped experimenting on people, and started putting their lives back together!"

The red-clad man chucked, before nodding. "You sure have! Now, You're still putting things back together, so you're still on my naughty list. But be a good girl for another year, and you can get something then, hm?"

"Okay!"

He nodded, handing her a candy cain as she hopped off his lap, before looking at the other members of Cauldron. "Now, Harbinger, you know you're forever on my naughty list."

"I merely wished to express my thanks for... eliminating Jack."

"Oh, it wasn't for you. He wanted to ruin Christmas for a kind little girl, and I couldn't let that happen. Now, what is it that you two want?"

In a flash, Eidolon was on Santa's lap. "I want a red ryder bb gun with a compass in the stock!"

Alexandria's hand met her face with a loud crack.

Legend sighed, plunking an elf hat on her head. "Relax." He smiled. "Santa got me your Christmas present!"

"And that is?"

"Well, two things. First..." He brought his hand back, slapping her across the face. Her head jerked to the side as it hit, a... stinging...

"I... I can feel things."

"Well, that was a present for the both of us. I'm still upset you never told me about Scion." He sighed. "And as for the second-"

There was a flash, and a golden-clad man thudded onto the floor.

"...Hero?"

"Ow."

Lisa leaned back, fingering the choker, before looking back down at Aisha and Taylor.

"Wow you two are good." Nice to be able to do this without knowing evert disgusting detail. "Come on, Taylor, there's plenty of time. Besides, you'll find out your gift tomorrow."

Aisha grinned. "Oh, trust me..." She turned back to Lisa. "It's great."

Biran stared at the paperwork. Then he looked up at the man in the doorway, then back down.

"I was ordered to deliver this to you. Is... everything-"

He froze as Brian's arms wrapped around him, puling him close. It took a moment, then the lawyer realized the man was crying.

"Merry Christmas." Brian whispered, custody papers still clutched in his hands. "Merry Christmas."

Regent skipped around the room, cheerfully winding the explosive cord around the de-powered Heartbreaker. "Deck the halls with boughs of Holly~"

Danny closed his eyes, feeling the warmth against him. Annette shifted, once more trailing kisses down his jaw. "So where's Taylor?"

"At a friend's." He turned into her slightly, breathing in the scent he missed. "She'll be gone until tomorrow..."

"Plenty of time, then.

"Colin?"

"Yes, Dragon?"

"Can... can you message Narwhal? Tell her to bring me, um..."

"You sound distressed. Is everything all right?"

"YES! I mean, um. I'm great. Yes. Thank you. I'm fine... how are you?"

"Working on my armor." He sighed. "For some reason the codpiece is too tight.... Dragon?"

"What?" Santa raised an eyebrow at his wife's unamused stare. "She was a very good girl!"

Piggot sniffed the decanter...

...

"Eh, what the hell."

"Puppy!"

"If I find out where you got these..."

Assault grinned, grabbing his wife around the waist from behind and pulling her close. "Wasn't me." He answered honestly as she toyed with the lingerie. "But trust me... you don't need it to be beautiful."

"I swear, if this was a trick to get in my pants..."

"Aw, why would I need a trick to do that?"

The three siblings sat around the edge of the cliff, a basket of food between them. The oldest, a tall, dark-skinned man, leaned against a rock. His brother sat next to him, lean and pale. Their sister sat atop it, running slender fingers through long, white hair.

"So where to next?" Levi asked as the three sat around.

"Hm..." Sam sighed. "I do want to see Paris..."

"Then let's go." Benjamin stated, standing up. "Race you there?" he asked as the ground began to heat up.

Levi grinned, before the sound barrier broke, followed by a gigantic splash off-shore. Sam sighed, before accelerating straight up, even as Benjamin sank beneath the ground.

Santa sighed, setting his hat down on the top of the mannequin inside the closet.

Once a year he got this chance— the only power operating year-round was the immortality, and, well...

He smiled. He'd keep doing this forever. Once a year, bringing joy and peace to people around the world... he was no hero. Not like Legend, or Dragon. He couldn't risk himself like that, defending homes and hearths.

But he could help make sure the home and hearth were worth defending.

As his powers— time manipulation and teleportation among them— began to fade, he let out a long, content sigh, before heading to the window.

"Merry Christmas." He murmured to the stars.

Sveta and Dr. Yamada stared.

Sveta giggled.

Yamada quiety reached out.

Sveta giggled again.

Yamada held one small nub.

"This little piggy went to market..."

"SOPHIA HESS YOU GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Sophia fell out of her cot at headquarters, groaning as she hit the floor—

"Wait." She stood up, trying to—

Her powers. They—

"GET. IN. HERE."

As she stumbled into the main room, she saw it.

Miss Militia was standing over a pile of large, black rocks with a sign posted on it—

Ms. Hess has been a very naughty girl!

"Dennis." She automatically shot.

"I would believe that, but Clockblocker is currently at home, celebrating his father's recovery." She pinched her nose through the scarf. "And we know about Hebert."

"W-What?"

"We know. Armsmaster found a file regarding her." From behind her back, Miss Militia produced a large shovel. "Now. You've been hit with Armsmaster's experimental power neutralizer. You're not leaving this room until this coal..." She pointed at the pile. "Is in that container. ARe we clear?"

"Bullshit-"

"Language." Miss Militia calmly turned, leaned the shovel against the wall, and left the room.

Emma watched her parents.

Her parents watched her.

"I can explain-"

"No, you... really can't." Zoe offered. "What did Taylor do to you?"

"...Nothing."

"Exactly." Alan drummed his fingers. "Zoe, honey... I think boarding school might be good for her. Get her away from that Sophia girl."

"I think so to."

"But-"

"Not up for debate, Emma."

"Yep! All better mister! Now, you take care of that liver!"

THe man laughed and sat up as Riley hopped away from the table. "Oh, I will. Thank you!"

Riley nodded. "Merry Christmas!"

Saint groaned as his head pounded.

"What hit me?"

"I did."

He looked over to see a slight, thin man in a button-down shirt, seated backwards on a folding chair. "With this chair, actually. You and I need to have a talk."

"You-"

"Yeah, I'm ticked. When did I say you could get elbow deep in my daughter?"

"...Now I can explain-"

Lung stared at the sight.

Oni Lee was smiling, playing with several children. He was waking up?

Bakuda was squeeing like a schoolgirl at a piece of paper... a diploma, apparently.

He snorted, turning and returning to his home. He entered his room, looked at the sight on his bed, and then at the large card nearby.

Not quite real, but it's easier to take care of!

He quickly checked all around his home. Nobody.

He returned to his room, lay down, and cuddled the massive stuffed pony.

"Mine."

Theo looked at his father. Then he laughed.

"Theo, this is no laughing matter." The now-black Maximilian Anders stated. "Not at all."

"I-I think a coal joke would be racist!" Theo laughed.

Faultline looked around her group.

Labyrinth was asleep, calm and placid. Gregor and Newter were looking over files, alternating between elated and horrified. But human, both of them.

Coil stared at the paper.

Mr. Calvert:

I know.

Play nice. You have a potent gift. I suggest that Coil suffers an unfortunate accident, or else I will see to the systematic destruction of all you have built. Perhaps Mr. Calvert could do some good for the world, hm?

Sincerely,

Edward E. Elf,

North Pole Mission Intelligence.

Deckered

(Автор: SamPardi)

Incest, Futa


* * *

Taylor braced herself against the wall of the dressing room and pressed her ass backwards.

Her partner pressed a hand into the wall above her while the other grabbed her hip and guided her backwards. Soon she felt smooth hard flesh pressing against the puffy lips of her entrance.

She couldn't help herself as her hips rolled and humped the intruder. Each time her pussy rubbed there was slightly less sticking of flesh on flesh and more smoothly gliding across the intervening layer of lubricant. The smoother the ride the harder she pressed herself back, needing to feel the press against her most sensitive nub.

They chuckled at her eagerness but certainly kept their own pace up. Then suddenly they'd pulled back further than usual and their slick length was inside her. She wanted to give some grand acknowledgement, to cry out in pleasure, but all that came out was a choked gasp. Their hand dropped from the wall, perhaps finally confident she'd braced herself adequately, and softly trailed down her stomach and through her pubic hair. It stopped briefly just above her pussy to trace faint circles, but after only a second or two of that it continued down until the middle digit rested on the hood of her clitoris.

Taylor pushed herself into the sensation as best she could while still holding to the wall for balance. The stroking of her clitoris made her legs feel weak and the slow in and out motion of the cock felt like it was building up to something. She wanted to say something, maybe something dirty, but her mind was overwhelmed. All she could do was continue to take short gasping breaths while her face burned from a wide mix of emotions.

Her partner suddenly leaned forwards. Their breasts pressed against her back and she could feel the hard nubs of their nipples pressing against her shoulder blades. Suddenly there was warm breath against the back of her ear, soon followed by the wet sensation of tongue exploring her sensitive lobes. It should have been disgusting. A slimy fleshy thing mauling the cartilaginous construct and leaving a wet trail behind. Somehow it made her flush from the sensuality and moan in pleasure.

The tempo at which they'd been dicking her suddenly kicked up. There was an almost palpable need to the action that communicated what was to come better than any words. Still it was several long minutes of pleasurable pussy abuse before they finally dug themselves deep with one finally thrust and shot hot sticky threads of cum into her deepest places. Despite their getting release their fingers don't stop.

Finally Taylor grunted and arched her back as something simultaneously centered on her clitoris and in the back of her mind exploded. For a few moments she whites out, lost in overload. When that fades she's clinging to the wall, breathing heavily, slick with sweat and her legs feel like they're made of jelly. She's facing into the dressing room's mirror now, and can see her mother's face looking back with a mixture of pride and the soft eyed affection of a lover.

Annette kissed the back of her neck and slid her into a dressing room chair. Then she walked over to a closet and opened it, searching for something.

While her mother's back was turned Taylor, for what felt like the thousandth time, watched the metal device that acted like a second spine as it articulated in synchronicity with the sensual movements of the back it rested on.

The woman turned back around holding a white box about as tall as her palm but several feet wide. "Here's your costume, Knight Owl. Try not to get it damaged before we can at least get you introduced," her mother teased. With a flick of her wrist the more experienced heroine used one of her little tricks to make her tinker armor instantly appear around her. "Now I have to get out and meet and greet before anyone gets suspicious. All a part of the burden of leadership... And Little Owl... Welcome to the Wards. You're going to have a blast!"

Taylor smiled and waved goodbye as the heroine discretely slipped out of the dressing room. "Thanks," she whispered to the empty air. Then her attention turned back to the box and a small rush of anxiety welled up within her. It was nothing like she'd felt only a short while ago. "Huh, it actually worked." Her hand fell to rub her pleasantly aching pussy. She could live with having her anxiety problems solved like that more often.

A Story Of WyldCard4 In Worm

(Автор: Wyldcard4)

JLA Mode: 8 Points: "Plan Write Something"

Complications: Enemy (Empire 88 +1), Enemy (Coil +1), Enemy (The ABB +1), Enemy (The Slaughterhouse Nine +2), Shard Influence ("Fx nk N'i wjfqqd uzy xtrjymnsl mjwj. Ktw wjfq." +2).

Total: 15

Major Powers:

Mover, Shaker, Brute, Breaker, Changer, Trump.

Minor Powers:

Trump

Perks: Augmented Power x2 (Major Trump, two sets at once), (Major Trump, can randomize sets like Echidna clones and restore them to normal)


* * *

I sat in the cafe and tried to remember how I got here. There was some kind of fog in my head. It had been January, I'd been watching Psycho-Pass, before that I had played Alpha Centauri as the Morganites on cheat mode, and...

I could remember my whole life, but there was this gap of "green" before I arrived on the street. It was freezing in Brockton Bay, and so far I had to act like I actually was in Brockton Bay. In the past hour I had thought over every variation of the simulation hypothesis and dreaming and being a coma patient, and come to the conclusion that I had to act as if this was actually happening until given better information.

Odds I see my parents again? I asked Dinah's powers. The answer came up blank, unknowable for this power, or maybe there was just no chance it would happen. I switched Dinah's set for Uber's to avoid the thinker headache of accidental power overuse.

I needed a computer at the very least. Various ideas bounced around my head in no particular order. Emailing Alexandria's civilian ID, emailing Dragon, walking into Protectorate HQ and asking for help and advice, finding Tattletale or Faultline. But why bow before your inferiors? I smiled softly and left the the $100 dollars on the table as a tip.

Taylor Hebert was at the heart of this world, this place. Skitter, Weaver, Taylor, Khepri. I had to get to her first. If there was anyone, anything else penetrating this world as a crossover then Taylor would be at the center of their activities. Ordinarily, the question of how I would find her would be interesting, but I merely looked around and chose a path. I had taken a power that ensured I would have insane luck. I accelerated my motion using my "mover" power and was jogging at a super-sonic speed down the street. The strange "green" feeling washed over me again, the distance I could feel but not ignore, and my mind felt the jog down the street as a frantic motion like a bullet at the same time it felt the jog. A few minutes later I found myself looking at a lonely girl in a bathroom squeezing juice out of her hair.

"Hello Taylor." I said quietly. She started, whirled around and looked at me, her body hunched in fear.

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"Call me..." I considered for a moment. "Wyld, I guess." I laughed. "I guess that's my cape name."

"You're a cape," Taylor said.

"I think so." I nodded and turned my hand into a sword blade. "You are too, Taylor."

"How do you know my name?" She asked. I appraised the pathetic looking girl. She reminded me of a drowned hamster.

"It's complicated. It'll be easier if we just agree it's a thinker power and leave it at that, okay? You have something I want." She started.

"What do you mean?" She had bugs outside the bathroom, I realized. Not that it could help.

"You are a very useful cape, to be honest. Probably oversold, but still. I have a particularly good set of powers, and you would be useful to me." I smiled at her. "You see, I can copy powers and you have control over creatures with simple nervous systems as well as functionally unlimited multitasking. I think you would make an excellent security system and, well, you'd do maintenance. I think we'd work well together." I shrugged.

"What the hell?" Taylor asked. I sighed, swapped in Heartbreaker, and was briefly stunned. Heartbreaker was a better cape than I'd expected. Cherish was her father, trading range for duration. Heartbreaker understood her past emotions, a long pit depression and anger trailed back.

"Want." I touched her. "Take." I hit her with a blast of supreme infatuation. "Have." I patted her head.

"You're..." She shuddered.

"I can copy powers. One of the powers I can copy is Heartbreaker. The fact is, you can know exactly what Heartbreaker does, and still love and serve him faithfully. This power is, for obvious reasons, highly appealing to me. I can only copy two power sets at once, and not all power sets. This makes slavery a very useful tool for me."

"What the..." Taylor looked at me, her face a picture of confusion and anger, her mind showed much more promising emotions.

"Right now you're a suicidal nutcase, and your future is not much better. So I am taking you as my first sex slave." I noticed I was hard. "You have absolutely no choice about this, actually. If you manage to successfully resist I will find more effective forms of control. I have powers such as complete control over biology and Teacher's brainwashing abilities. Unless we end up dealing directly with the Simurgh or Contessa I do not expect to be thwarted on the issue."

I was surprised how quickly the bug swarm hit me. One second I was looking at Taylor, the next bugs had enveloped me from behind. My brute power protected me from the more generic assaults. The rush into my mouth and nose was easy enough to beat. I began to create oxygenated blood directly as I sealed up every orifice. I was briefly blind and almost deaf, but a moment later my force field snapped out. Bastion. Clear, powerful force fields that let sound through. It was me, Taylor, and a fairly small batch of bugs. I briefly exploded, a wave of tentacles snapping at everything that moved. When I was done Taylor was stung and bleeding and almost all the bugs were dead. Taylor had a very determined look in her eyes. I flicked to Panacea's power and knocked her out quickly and painlessly. The bugs kept swarming against my shield, directed by the Queen Administrator's orders. I switched to Bonesaw's powers and felt a rush of ideas. I opened my mouth and unleashed a stream of poison that wiped out the bugs in a manner of seconds. Bonesaw and my internal biological control were exactly as frightening a combination as I had hoped. Bastion was dropped, giving me room for Panacea's power set to keep Taylor alive and stable despite the blast of poison.

Huh. I'd unleashed a blast of poison in the middle of a school. This could be a problem. I flipped from Bonesaw to Accord and felt a plan materialize. Vista and Accord let me play with the air and pressure density. According to my intellect the poison I had used could be neutralized easily, not like it had been that strong. Okay...

That crisis averted. I sighed. I had not expected the highlight of my day to be "did not accidentally murder a high school."

Huh. I looked down at Taylor. Abducting what was arguably a child to become my sex slave and soldier was also an unexpected event, and seemed rather atypical of me. It struck me suddenly that there was a very good chance I was acting irrationally.

Huh. I looked at my situation from Accord's enhanced perspective. I was "in Worm." In Worm, people with powers have an impulse towards conflict. Generally, the higher the power the stronger the impulse. It stood to reason that I was probably not in my right mind. The problem being of course that I was in the Worm setting, and as such there was a very tiny pool of people who could plausibly help me.

I swapped out powers. Labyrinth and Scrub. The two of them worked together easily to make portals. A few flashes of light, and I had a portal open, and I moved it to a world without humans, if I was reading Labyrinth's reality warping thinker power right. I stepped through, made another one on that end to Earth Bet, stepped back, and turned the one starting in Earth Bet to a new probably uninhabited world. I stepped into the world I had opened and moved the portal there to a separate uninhabited world. Following me should be difficult, though Cauldron was impossible to guard against.

I looked out at the trees and hills of the world I had found for myself. I looked down at Taylor Hebert, a girl who deserved so much better than this.

Possessiveness. Conquest. I had gone for maybe the most valuable thing in the world and taken it for my own. Maybe that was my derangement? Or was I twisted enough that the second I got real power I started doing unbelievably evil shit?

Agnes Court was not Cauldron, it seemed. Not as versatile as I hoped, either. Neither was Ziggurat, the earth-mover of the CUI, though T?ng LМng T? was quite powerful, though slow, practically Skitter like in complexity. Agnes Court, extensive library of effects, but nothing "alive" as an end result.

Tecton the architecture tinker-thinker a lot stronger than I'd expected, more versatile, and had let me plan very quickly and easily. I had a walled city. Agnes Court seeds for walls taller than skyscrapers. Outside of that I'd dug a moat I expected rainwater to fill with T?ng LМng T?'s power.

I had Nilbog and Panacea powers active as I waited for Taylor to wake up naturally, and I tried for some introspection. With Nilbog I had manpower, and with Panacea I could get around his weaknesses. Nilbog was crazy, lonely, evil, and miserable. Address the direct problems of his tiny kingdom and he would surely find new ones, so my slice of being a bit stronger was unlikely to make me happy if I went the Nilbog route. Heartbreaker didn't exactly sound happy either, according to the perspectives of his kids. If I was a parahuman, than I would need conflict in my life to be happy or else I'd get as depressed as Amelia or Sabah.

There were very few happy people in Worm.

I watched Taylor wake up. Her eyes fluttered open and she glared at me with a deep venom.

"No one at school got hurt," I told her. "I left Brockton Bay a gift, I guess. I opened a portal into an empty universe. Your city's economy is probably going to grow."

"What?" She stared at me.

"I guess, um, maybe that's a wedding present?" I mumbled. She continued her glare.

"You think we're married?" She asked with venom.

"I know I'm crazy, Taylor. The best case scenario is that I am an over-excited crazy fucker, but I rather suspect that I am being driven mad by an evil space bug. So yeah, I think the best way to look at this is a shotgun marriage that neither of us will be particularly happy about. Does that sound worse than being a crazy fucker's sex slave?"

"What is wrong with you?" Taylor asked. I considered the question.

"People have asked that before all of this. I've always been a weird kid, then a weird man. I like to think I've typically been nice and moody before this, and to be fair most of my really psychotic writings were when I was suffering from a form of depression that had yet to be medicated." I laughed. "I don't think I'm likely to turn you into furniture. I hope that's not where this is going."

"Are you going to bring me back home?" Taylor asked. I closed my eyes and thought hard about it.

"If you really want that, I can try to bring you back home. I make no promises, because my past behavior is no indicator of future behavior because space bug. But I think I can do that if it matters to you. I can't promise I won't go back and track you down, of course. I don't know if my condition is going to worsen or get better or if this is a psychotic break due to meeting someone who from my perspective has been a fictional character I have known about for years."

"Of course I want to go home!" Taylor shouted. "Please, please bring me back home!"

"Fuck." I sighed.


* * *

"Let's try this again." I looked at what was definitely the outside of the Undersider lair. I had last dropped Taylor off at PRT HQ. According to a brief use of Dinah's power, I was absolutely going to take her back, which frightened me.

Panacea and Sophia were my waifus, but to be honest I'd rambled them into deep OOC territory and in canon they were both kind of cunts. Admittedly, that was a lot of why they appealed to me, but that did not make for good relationship choices. I sighed, closed my eyes, and activated Shadow Stalker's power, letting me glide through the door as if nothing was there. The whole world darkened and cooled and it was pretty awesome. I returned to "normal" and shouted.

"Sarah, Lisa, whoever you are, I'm here to free you from Coil!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Lisa grunted. Her powers were disabled and Cherish had heightened her drives pretty well. I wouldn't call this precisely legally consensual, but it was a bit better than crazy bathroom abduction.

Outside of my Agnes Court created building, the Undersiders lurked. I wasn't really sure if they counted as abducted. A brief explanation of my powers and a spoilery elevator speech on their future had gotten them to come along, but not too happily. I really did not trust any of them with information about the future and the freedom to go about their business as petty criminals. Now they were mine.

I felt Tattletale climax, though I was too inexperienced to have noticed without Cherish's helpful power. I pulled out and smiled.

"Thanks," Lisa said breathlessly.

"Um, you're welcome?" I looked down at my penis. Having complete control over your biology had made the idea of climaxing kind of weird. I just made my penis flaccid and wrapped myself in "clothing" that was part of my body. "I'd offer you a towel but I haven't figured out a way of making one that isn't pretty creepy." Lisa waved it away.

"It's fine, 'Wyld.' She laughed. "This is going to be fun." I briefly wondered if having a crazy lady with a superiority complex and an evil space bug in her brain as my voice of reason would turn out to be a mistake. "Now that we're done with that, tell me about this thing where we save the world."

High Times With Daddy Blasto

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

Worm SI story


* * *

The first thing I woke up was the fact I was in a glass metal tube filled with clear liquid in a overgrown brick lab. The fluid filled my lungs as I panicked.

A thin looking man in a lab-coat was the only other person I could see in the plant filled building. He had tanned skin, and looked in his mid twenties with a somewhat Hispanic in appearance.

He started to record down notes. "Brain activity shouldn't be occurring at this stage. Emergent behavior in project Brigid due to unknown reason."

I could feel a spiderweb of lights coming from his head. Beautiful glimmers of color that I wanted to touch, for no sane reason.

The tube lifted up, as the man caught me as I fell. Wet white hair covered my face as I toppled forward into his arms. The wonderful smell drifted from his body. "My sweet Brigid, my little goddess," said the man as he held me in his arms.

"Who are you?" I managed to croak out. My voice sounded young and sweet.

"How are you able to talk yet. Something about the powers of the parahumans used in your creation? Maybe it was Teacher's DNA. Inversion of his power?"

"Parahumans? Teacher?" as I blinked in confusion at his statement. Was I in the horrible death world of Worm? "Blasto?" I said as I cocked my head. The long white hair kept falling into my face.

"Yes, that's right I'm your creator, Blasto."

"Doomed world,' slipped my lips before I could help it.

"I'll protect you from the Endbringers, my daughter," said Blasto as he pulled me into a tighter hug. The scent grew stronger with the act. I just wanted to trust him. I remembered now, he uses pheromones to control his creations, and this body was no exception to their effect.

He had about a foot on me as I was pulled to the bathroom. Lovely warm water rained down on me from the shower as the strange fluid was surrounded my new birth ran down the drain. Straight white hair trailed down to my wide rear. As I rubbed away the remains of the fluid my hands grasped my chest. Their mass overloaded such tiny fingers.

Blasto wrapped me in a fluffy white towel to dry off as I saw myself in the bathroom mirror. The small girl could easily be between fourteen and sixteen year, but with a body build for sex. I could see myself pouting as I was rubbed dry by my creator.

Weaver's Christmas Party: Excerpt

(Автор: Angush)

Character names, for your convenience:

Tecton = Everett Anderson

Cuff = Ava Eddards

Grace = Katherine Oldershaw

Annex = Kirk Stewart

Mockshow = Olivia Trebilcock

Golem = Theo Anders (duh)

Weaver = Taylor Hebert (double duh)

Weaver's Christmas Party

Excerpt: Weaver, Grace, and Cuff


* * *

Ava glanced at her phone, then back at the bedroom Taylor and Everett had entered. She stood and walked to the bedroom door. "It's been seven minutes," she said, reaching for the handle.

Katherine leapt to her feet. "Wait!" she said, running up and grabbing Ava's hand. "I, um, I don't think we should just... barge in."

Ava frowned at her. "Why not?"

Katherine shifted. "Well, I mean, what if they're... y'know, uh, doing something?"

A moment of silence, broken when Ava laughed. "Who cares?" she said, reaching for the handle again. Theo, Kirk and Olivia made their way over to the door. "It's been seven minutes. If they were `doing anything', they should've stopped already."

"But still — " Katherine made a noise of annoyance and slapped Ava's hand away. "Quit it!"

"Oh come on, Kath," Olivia said, grinning. "They know the rules. Seven minutes."

Katherine hmm'd, frowning. "Fine. But we're not going to barge in, okay? Just a peek. To see if they're, uh, decent."

"Whatever."

With a nod, Katherine turned to the door and pushed it open a crack, peering through the gap. She caught sight of the bed — or rather, she saw Taylor riding Everett as they shared grunts and moans. Katherine's face flushed tomato-red in an instant, and she pulled the door shut with a resounding crack.

"What?" Ava said, watching Katherine's cheeks redden further. "What'd you see?"

"Uh," Katherine said. "L-let's just say they're not decent, and, uh, leave it at that."

"Like hell I can — "

The door was thrown open, cutting Ava off and making Katherine go "Eep!" In the doorway stood a very naked Taylor, panting, a thin layer of sweat coating her body. Katherine stared at her heaving breasts, though her eyes soon moved downward, across Taylor's taut stomach and down to her legs, set far enough apart that her labia was visible, puffy with arousal and coated with the sheen of her juices. Katherine swallowed audibly, while Ava um'd and ah'd.

Taylor grinned wickedly, then reached out and grabbed Katherine by the arm, yanking her into the room. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving the others standing outside, dumbstruck.


* * *

Taylor shoved Katherine, wide-eyed and blushing, up against the wall, and immediately ran her hands down Katherine's sides. She leaned forward for a passionate kiss, her tongue darting between Katherine's lips, even as one hand cupped one of Katherine's breasts and kneaded her flesh, and the other slid down beneath Katherine's panties to rub gently at her pussy.

Katherine moaned and writhed beneath Taylor's grip, even as her mind whirled. This was new. She was feeling all sorts of things. All of them pleasant, yes, but... new. Taylor's hot breath against her cheek; Taylor's tongue entwined with hers, more deeply than before; Taylor's hands on her skin, tickling the flesh of her chest and stomach and teasing her nipples — wait, where'd my shirt go? The feeling of Taylor's very hot, very naked body against hers; how the other girl's nipples bumped and ground against her own breasts.

Not to mention what Taylor was doing down there! Katherine couldn't stop from bucking her hips against Taylor's hand. It was so good! She heard wet slops and schlicks as Taylor's fingers thrust in and out of her pussy — she was sure it must be a waterfall down there by now — the speed constantly changing even as the fingers twisted and stretched her insides.

The sounds just made her flush deepen, though she didn't let it stop her from bucking her hips, or from returning Taylor's kisses, even as she moaned into the other girl's mouth. But of course, hearing her own moans only made her blush more, which made her even more aroused. Wetness ran down her legs as her arms encircled Taylor's back, clutching at the girl's shoulders for balance.

"Uh, Taylor?" a man's voice said. Katherine's eyes shot open, and jerked around to stare at Everett, just as naked and sweat-soaked as Taylor was. Her gaze shot down to his hips, where a monster hung. THAT'S what a penis looks like? she thought, staring at it. It was long and veiny, slick and slimy with Taylor's juices — and maybe some of Everett's, too. That thing was inside Taylor? How?!

Katherine jerked around to stare at Taylor. Their eyes met. Taylor's were so close, so intent, so... mesmerising. The girl's body against hers was so soft yet firm, so warm, so gorgeous. It felt nice. No. It felt fucking wonderful. And most of all, it felt right.

Katherine's mind went blank. Everett said something else, but she didn't hear it. She forgot everything but her partner. Taylor's fingers never stopped, never slowed, even as she lowered her head to suckle at Katherine's neck and glanced in Everett's direction, and Katherine felt vibrations against her skin as Taylor spoke. But Katherine didn't hear what Taylor said, either. She felt a heat, a pressure, brimming in her core. Her toes curled, her back arched. She leaned up into Taylor's arms, clenching every muscle in her body, and...

There was a slamming sound, snapping Katherine from her haze. It caught Taylor's attention, too, and her attentions stopped. Katherine groaned and writhed against Taylor's hand. She couldn't stop now!

"What — " Ava's voice. "Taylor! What are you doing?"

Katherine blinked her eyes open, glaring at Ava.

"What does it look like?" Taylor said, frowning. No! Katherine thought. Don't do that! Don't frown. You're so beautiful. Don't ruin it like that. I love it when you smile.

"Wha — You're — Stop it!"

"Why?" Taylor said. "Katherine seems to like it." Her hands started moving again, slowly sliding in and out of Katherine's depths — yes, she was definitely gushing now. Katherine groaned and arched her back again, then pulled Taylor's head down for another kiss.

"But — I — "

Katherine felt Taylor grin around their kiss, then pull away, much to her disappointment.

"Ohh. I see," Taylor said. "You want to take over for me."

Ava jerked, her face reddening furiously. "N-no I don't!"

"Sure, sure," Taylor said. "I tell you what: if you can get her off before I can, I'll stop. I'll leave her all to you." Her grin turned to a smirk. It wasn't a smile, but it was... sexy. Good enough. "Unless you don't think you can do better than me, that is."

Ava paused, then scowled. "Don't make fun of me, bitch!" she said, rushing forward and nudging Taylor out of the way. Katherine couldn't stop from whining, and Ava swore under her breath, then added her own hands to the mix, prodding at Katherine's stomach uncertainly. A giggle escaped Katherine's throat, and she wiggled, making her breasts sway.

Ava froze, staring at Katherine's chest, her cheeks still glowing. She swallowed visibly.

Taylor pushed her out of the way, still smirking. "Here," she said. "I'll show you." With that, she slid down to her knees and pushed Katherine's legs apart. Her hands slid around Katherine's waist to grip her butt, pulling her forward as Taylor leaned in and planted her mouth on Katherine's gushing pussy, her tongue darting out to part her folds.

Katherine's eyes widened, and her mouth shot open, making only wordless gasps as her body shuddered. This was even better than fingers! She bucked against Taylor's tongue. Her hands reached down to entwine themselves in Taylor's hair, keeping her head right where it was.

Her moans loudened as Taylor's tongue explored her insides, and she yelped when a finger popped into her ass, all the way to the knuckle. But that's — aahhhh! The finger starting curling in her rear, and Katherine's legs wobbled as they failed her. She fell to her knees, pushing Taylor down with her until she was actually sitting on Taylor's face. But the finger didn't stop, nor did Taylor's tongue. Why does that feel so good? It's my bum!

Her knees shook, clenching around Taylor's head. She felt that heat building in her core again, and looked down at Taylor. Their eyes met again. The pressure doubled almost instantly. Katherine shuddered.

Ava slid around in front of her, kneeling above Taylor's head, her remaining clothes now discarded as well. "I'm here too!" she said, then leaned forward and kissed Katherine, pressing their bodies together. Ava's nipples met Katherine's and slid as Katherine gyrated on Taylor's face, leaving a tingling feeling in her chest. Ava's hands came up to rest on Katherine's hips, squeezing tightly and pulling her closer.

Ava was a very different kisser to Taylor, Katherine realised. Where Taylor was dominant and overpowering, Ava was hesitant, submissive. She was trying to be dominant, but wasn't as skilled at it as Taylor. Katherine didn't mind. Ava's kiss felt just as good. But then, Katherine was having trouble concentrating right now, what with Taylor's tongue still delving into her pussy, and Taylor's finger still massaging her ass — which hadn't gotten any less weird.

The pressure built. Katherine bucked harder. Her kiss with Ava deepened. She heard her pants and moans, as well as Ava's and others, off to the side; heard the wet squelching of Taylor's mouth on Katherine's pussy, and the similar smacking of her and Ava's lips joining; felt the warmth of the other girls' bodies against hers, hands squeezing, flesh meeting, breath tickling. A tingle spawned, spreading from her crotch to every other part of her body in a second.

Katherine felt Taylor bring a hand up to her hip, caressing her thigh. Then it flicked at her clit, and the pressure, the heat, spilled over. She arched her back into Ava's embrace, bucking her hips, shuddering all over, screaming into Ava's kiss as she climaxed. Her knees tightened around Taylor's ears, her hands clawed at Ava's back. Juices gushed from her pussy, and she felt Taylor suck them all up, letting nothing escape. Katherine broke Ava's kiss, tilting her head back and trying — and failing — to form a coherent word.

Exactly how long her orgasm lasted, Katherine wasn't sure. Eventually, she collapsed to the side, panting like she'd just ran five miles. She felt soft hands against her legs and hips and side, running up and down, caressing gently. She blinked the glaze from her eyes, managing to focus just enough to see Taylor sitting beside her legs, grinning as she licked Katherine's juices from her lips and fingered her own dripping pussy with both hands.

Ava moved in front of Taylor, leaning down and spreading Katherine's legs. "My turn!" she said, burying her face in Katherine's pussy and lapping at her folds.

Katherine shrieked, slapping at Ava's head weakly. "Wait! I'm — urh — "

Ava ignored her, continuing to lick. Taylor watched intently, continuing to pump herself. Katherine's legs kicked and scrabbled against the floor, her hands grasping Ava's head but unable to actually do anything. Ava's hands kept her legs spread as she worked.

"I'm still — aahn! — "

Ava wasn't half as skilled as Taylor, but it made no difference to Katherine. The pressure in her core — only half-alleviated by her first orgasm — resurfaced, sending shudders racing through her body like electricity, leaving her almost incapable of movement. Ava's breath tickled on Katherine's crotch as the other girl's nose brushed her clit, tongue darting clumsily inside her.

"I'm still sensitiiiive!"

Katherine's second climax hit, accompanied by another scream.


* * *

Ava pulled back from between her friend's legs, wiping juices from her mouth with one hand. Katherine's body law in a puddle of sweat and cum, eyes glazed and slightly crossed, legs twitching incessantly, a constant slew of murmured gibberish escaping her lips. Ava felt satisfied. Not a common feeling.

"Not bad," Taylor said from behind, her arms sliding around Ava's shoulders, hands reaching down to cup her breasts.

Ava jumped, twisting to face the other girl. She'd forgotten Taylor was there, for a second. And now that the moment was over, embarrassment took hold. "Uh — "

Taylor kissed her. Deeply. Slowly. What? Her hands continued to caress her chest, drawing moans from deep within Ava's throat. Why? Taylor pushed her down to the ground, laying atop her, their bodies rubbing together, their breasts touching, their hips meeting, grinding. Sweat mixed between them. Ava felt her hands rise unbidden to Taylor's back.

Taylor pulled away, leaving Ava breathless, supporting herself on her arms.

"Wh-what?" Ava finally managed.

Taylor grinned. "I want in, too," she said, then turned around, lying over Ava's body, positioning her head above Ava's crotch, and positioning her own crotch above Ava's head. S-sixty — A droplet of juice fell from Taylor's crotch to land on Ava's cheek. Another drip, on her chin. A third, on her lips.

Ava's eyes locked onto the source. Taylor's pussy. It was very close. And very pink. And very wet.

It looked delicious.

She swallowed.

"Well?" Taylor said, wiggling her hips. "Don't disappoint me."

Ava leaned up and dug in, just as Taylor did the same to her.

QQbot Has Spoken

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

QQbot has spoken:

[Taylor] wearing a [Cheerleader costume] made of [Silk] is dommed by [Sophia] who is dressed in [Leather]

In the her one bedroom apartment, Sophia started to lace up her leather corset. A home away from home, since her mother didn't want anything to do with the Wards coming into her household, including the money. At least as a bigot she was consistent in it.

Being in the poorer section of the city made it fairly cheap, and a good place to start when she was going on a unauthorized solo patrol. The black shades pulled down on the windows, of the surprisingly clean eggshell apartment. Sophia's barefoot toes ran through the beige carpet.

Standing ram-rod straight in the living room of the tiny apartment was her lovely submissive doll. The curly black hair pulled into two strands by a pair of yellow scrunchies. Sophia ran the leather crop underneath the black and yellow mini-dress. Taylor's shaved pubes on display for her mistress.

Sophia ran the crop along the entrance as she said," You've been a good girl, keeping yourself clean for me." Taylor's slit glistened as Sophia continued to tease her. Whimpers escaped, as Taylor tried to keep quiet.

The silk costume made to mimic the cheerleader uniform of the Winslow's Hornets clung tightly to Taylor's thin body. The logo of the laid nearly flat agaisnt her tiny chest. Her hands gripped the black and yellow pom-poms even while her wrists where cuffed together.

Sophia pressed her prey agaisnt the wall, as she forced her tongue into the weak girl's mouth. Emma wouldn't understand. That the weak should be treated as pets, trophies for the strong. Little moans and gasps came from her pet as Sophia continued her attack. Sophia's finger reached underneath the short skirt, diving into lower regions of her dress-up doll.

Amy Takes Missy For A Ride

(Автор: vyor)

Amy was, to put it mildly, bored out of her mind and, thanks to Vicky making her judge swimsuits while they were on her, incredibly horny. Course, she couldn't actually do anything about it since she was at some fundraiser or something. She wasn't really paying much attention to, well, anything when Carol was talking about what it was for. Far too distracted by fantasies you see. That being said, she was still having them, Vicky accidentally showing her panties a few times while flying over too dean was not helping matters.

Missy was also glaring at the two, though Amy wasn't sure why. Frowning, she decided to just ask her. No way that could go wrong.

With all the stealth and discretion she could manage, not much admittedly but everyone was too focused on the boring speech to really care, she slunk to where Missy was sitting. She had also decided to take the blunt approach because her brain was a bit horribly fried, so while almost literally dragging her to a secluded closet she said, "We need to talk about Dean and Vicky. Now."

Missy's confusion was the only thing that allowed her to be taken as she was.

Pushing Missy into a seat, Amy stared into her eyes and demanded answers. "Why were you glaring at Dean?"

She crumbled under the pressure and spilled her secret. "I have a massive crush on him, want them to break up, and him to notice me?" Amy grinned at that. For some reason, it didn't do much to calm down the cute girl in front of her.

"I think... we can work together." The grin became even more manic, "But first I need you to do something for me." Missy felt fear for the first time in a while, as Amy's grin turned into an even more wicked one, her eyes wide and crazy, her breath heaving, tongue darting out to lick her lips every few tantalizing seconds...

"You see, Vicky has been teasing me all day, so I'm pretty horny as you can imagine." Missy really couldn't, but for some reason she was fine with how this was going. "So, in payment for making you the embodiment of Dean's fetish, I will fuck you. You won't be able to think coherent thoughts afterwards. Deal?" She just whimpered and nodded, squeaking in surprise when Amy shoved their mouths together, her tongue violating her own mouth, pleasure sparking from the contact points.

Amy was panting heavily when she pulled back, Missy was still whimpering, but now it was in pure need. Amy stripped them both very quickly after that, making sure to touch Missy as much as she could, sending jolts of pleasure with even the briefest contact.

Missy's eyes were starting to glaze over by the time she really started to play with her. Namely by elongating her small nub of a clit into a proper cock, complete with internal testes that produced nothing but aphrodisiacs. Sure, the work was a bit sloppy and it also affected Missy as it built up inside, but she didn't really care.

She tried to scream as Amy shoved herself onto the hyper-sensitive organ, but found no sound coming out. "Sorry, can't have you screaming out, don't want anyone to find us after all." The calm, if lustful, explanation took away the brief burst of panic she had before Amy started to move.

Up and down, up and down, pleasure rocking her entire body as cum built up inside her, yearning to be released. Every contact point sang in tortuous pleasure, and there were a lot of them thanks to her small size.

Amy started to moan louder before silencing herself with Missy's mouth. The tension was becoming unbearable, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

Then, amy came, hard. Her control released Missy came as well, filling her up with the lust and pleasure inducing liquid she had to bear, drawing out Amy's orgasm until she was lightly twitching atop her. Not that Missy was doing much better of course, as she had actually fallen unconscious when it ended.

The manhunt for their kidnappers was into it's fourth hour by the time both had come to.

Miss Bii

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

It was stormy night when the girl met the dame. Sophia was her name, and Miss Bii knew she was trouble the day they meet.

Miss Bii, was what the Man called a Case 53. Woke up in this world with no memories, and an inhuman appearance. Bii was one of the lucky ones. If it wasn't for her fluffy tail and ear, you'd wouldn't guess she wasn't normal. Well almost normal, with a figure like hers.

Bii could never resists the lure of the the drink. Sake was like catnip for the tanuki girl. At the bar in the seedy part of the town, was where the alcohol was cheapest. It was under ABB control, but the girl wasn't wise to ways of this city's underworld.

She soon founds herself in the alley behind the shop, with a tab she couldn't pay. One of the better for the crew decided she could pay off the tab with her body instead. Bii found herself agaisnt the wall as the thin Korean man started to unzip his pants. The laughably small member fell onto her face as the man fell onto top of him. A crossbow bolt sticking out of his back.

Like an angel in the dark Shadow Stalker stood on the top of the building.

Bii next clear memory was the silk rope tie her hands to the bed. Alligator clips painfully squeezed the nipples of her oversized breasts.

Her dark skinned savior stood over her. Dressed in a red leather under bust corset. The wicked grin was plainly visible on her face as she slapped the fat ass of Bii. A moan of "auuuuu" slipped pasted the tanuki girl's lips.

"Say it, you are prey to be used," said Sophia was she went from another strike.

Overpowered Pervert Madison

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

From the window I could see a red shooting star flying . It was tradition to make a wish on a shooting star wasn't it? So I wished for something fun to happen.

The lights in my room flickered. I pulled Mr.Huggles. close to my chest. The green felt rubbed agaisnt the white silk of the teddy nightgown. Again the light flicked as this time they stay dimmed. I pushed agaisnt the backboard of the white-framed bed, and pulled the flower-patterned cover towards my head.

Shadows extended from underneath the door. Tendrils of inky darkness pool around the window as the stars were blotted out. Even underneath the bed wasn't safe as more darkness crept out from there. Further then shadow grew as they pooled into a puddle at the foot of my bed. The darkness gained mass as it altered to become tentacles. From the ceiling to the floor a tower of tendrils passing over each other, twisting and turning they moved.

"A tentacle monster is about to rape me," I screeched with a wide smile on my face. I trusted out Mr.Huggles, my chibi-chtulu push.

I had almost pulled down my white thong, when the pillar of tentacles spoke.

"Madison Clements, you have been chosen as our champion of this world."

"So are you going to fuck me or not?"

"In due time, most impatient pervert," the pillar pulsed, instead of sticking those throbbing members into my slick pussy. My fingers trailed around the pink opening.

"The council of Sex Demons From Beyond The Stars, has decided that it will be your duty to assemble a grand harem. You will be empowered to accomplish this task. Assemble the harem and save the world."

"Are you going to fuck me now?" I said with the my best puppy dog eyed look. It always worked on dad.

"As you wish, human". The pillar split into parts as those parts slid over the bed see. They joined up again as my arms and legs were wrapped by the throbbing parts and pushed downward by supernatural force. A grouping of tentacles forced themselves into my mouth, as my jaw ached from the opening so wide.

A tendril over a foot in length forced itself into dripping opening, as my legs spread wide at the wanted invasion. I was forced forward as a similar object prepared to violate my anus.

Their massive girths pulsed as my orifices where filled with with shadowy tentacles. Held up by their strength the tendrils forced themselves deeper into my willing openings. Again and again they pulsed forward in back as I was filled.

My body was wracked my pleasure under the supernatural skill of the creatures. My juices coated the tenacles as the heat within me continued to build. My world went white as the first orgasm came. The juices of my body coated the wonderful thing. I only managed a muffled scream as my lips wrapped around one of the tentacle grouping. They continued the rhythmic movement as another orgasm started to build.

My sheets were drenched in my fluids as I came to. Mr. Huggles laid forgotten on the floor as I marinated in the afterglow of wonderful sex. The tentacle creature was no where to be found.

Hencing Troubles

(Автор: Merior)

"Miss, I can see that you have had a few problems in trying to find a 'place to hench'.

Okay, I can see the ABB rejecting because you're don't look Asian. And the Empire isn't an option because, to put it bluntly, you're black.

The incident of Uber and Leet really was a case of putting a foot in it though. Or, more accurately, shooting yourself in the foot when they asked 'Star Trek or Star Wars?' and you replied 'There's a difference?'.

Grue, however, turned you down for a good reason. Really, you should have considered what would happen around Bitch given that you're that allergic to dogs. At least he was nice enough about it to give you some tissues while showing you the door.

While a themed costume consisting of three pocket watches and some string certainly got Clockblocker's vote, the Wards are not actually a gang nor are they allowed to recruit. It was an inventive attempt, but possible showed signs of desperation.

However I have no idea why Coil rejected you. I would have thought that managing to find his desk to put a formal application on would have been proof that you're up to the standards of his mercenaries.

As for the next incident... the Teeth are a gang in Boston not Brockton Bay. And even if they were the name is not literal so offering dental supplies stolen from all around the city as a bribe wouldn't work anyway.

I'm actually disturbed that the Merchants sent you a formal letter of rejection. Apparently they had heard of your attempts to join an organisation and decided to pre-empt your application. While Skidmark's language isn't any better in written form I have to admit that he has good handwriting.

I am sorry but, in the end, it seems that nobody wants to let you be their hench-person at all. It is sad to say that, but it seems that word of what happened in your very first position has gotten around. As the last remaining member of the Slaughterhouse Nine I'm told that Crawler is still curled up in a fetal ball and screams whenever he hears the phrases 'Let me help you with that', 'Don't worry, I can fix it!', or 'Oopsie...'.

On a unrelated note the ban on you purchasing or being given any form of cola or spork and from being within five hundred yards of a jackhammer had now become a Federal law..."

Sophia Hess: Legendary Recruiter

(Автор: Scarlet4)

So continuing the Taylor x Sophia x Rune discussion from SB that got modded cause some assholes reported it.

Sophia Hess : Legendary Recruiter. Of heroes. Yes


* * *

Carlos shifted trying to get comfortable on the end of the table in one of the interrogation rooms. On his right was Director Piggot and past her was Armsmaster.

Across from them was an unmasked and subdued Rune. Or Ruth. Who had walked into the base and surrendered herself quietly earlier that evening.

The Director cleared her throat and scowled "So Miss Heren would you like to explain why you've surrendered yourself and asked for this talk? "

Ruth averted her gaze and took a deep breath "Eight days ago Shadow Stalker subdued me" that hadn't been on any of the records "then knocked me out with some sort of odourless chloroform" that DEFINITELY hadn't.

"Truth." intoned Armsmaster. The Director's scowl deepened.

"I woke up bound and gagged on the floor of some ki... uh Jew girl's bedroom." Yes because that was the polite term "Shadow Stalker was maskless and pantsless doing a presentation with a computer slideshow playing off a projector on why the other girl should date her. The presentation had a lot of clips from documentaries in it mixed with uh lesbian porn. A lot of it starring Shadow Stalker and a well LOT of other girls. Then she offered me as a bonus if the other girl, 'Taylor' she called her, agreed"

Piggot growled "Offered you?"

Ruth blushed and looked down "Sexually I mean. Then 'Taylor' freaked out yelled at 'Sophia', I'm assuming Shadow Stalker, to get out of her house and take me with her. So Shadow Stalker grabbed her projector and pulled up her pants, blindfolded me with her um" Rune got a strange look was that a smile? "panties, grabbed me and fled. She untied me and left me in an alley after about five minutes of running and phasing"

Armsmaster added in an almost bored monotone while working on the computer built into his armour "All true"

Piggot clenched her nose with one hand and let out a strained sigh "So what you're telling me is that one of our Wards kidnapped and drugged you and then tried to use you as a sexual commodity in order to convince a girl she'd broken into the house of to have sex with her?"

Ruth nodded "Yes that uh about sums it up"

"Forgive me for looking a gift horse in the mouth but after one of our Wards and a black lesbian at that unmasked and molested you a member of the Empire 88, why are you here informing us instead of organising some sort of reprisal?"

Rune was almost tomato red now and she just made some sort of squeaking sound.

"Miss Heren please repeat that"

"... I umm. At first I was going to but I didn't feel angry just confused and I couldn't stop thinking about it. And especially what would have happened if 'Taylor' had said yes. And then I noticed where my hand was and well I realised why I couldn't stop thinking about it. Then I started thinking what that meant for me in the Empire. And how if my idea of a good time is to be a party favour for an interracial lesbian couple I probably shouldn't hang around for someone to figure that out. Which was going to be easy considering the fucking twins and me not being able to keep my eyes off them now that I know I swing that way. So I came over here to join the Wards you do that probationary thing right?"


* * *

Ruth had been escorted back to her cell after initial discussions had gone pretty well. The Director let out a shuddering breath

"Mr Garcia, you are going to need to stay on Miss Hess twice as much as usual now"

Carlos blinked "Um but isn't Ruth going to need more."

"Carlos, Miss Heren is not going to be a problem. We both know how Miss Hess is going to take this however. After this she is going to think that she successfully converted a Nazi to lesbianism and heroism through her sex appeal. It's your job to deal with the results of this"

Inside, Carlos was screaming.

Something Something Madison

(Автор:Scarlet4)

Madison sat at her battlestation ready to launch her greatest achievement yet. By that she meant she was sitting in her underwear at her computer desk, at 4am, surrounded by empty cola bottles and ramen cups having just finished the final edit of her magnum opus. She had barely slept and not bathed or gone to school in three days. But it was ready to be published.

She loaded up her art page and saw to her delight that her subscribers had just passed 3 million. She took a moment to think of her past accomplishments when her gaze tracked over her featured works.

Daily Life of Sad Girl, her first doujin a still ongoing series inspired by Emma, Taylor and Sophia. But with far far more sex. And more supernatural themes, at least she was fairly sure Mrs Hebert hadn't arisen as a zombie to 'comfort' Taylor before being tragically killed by Armsmaster for trying to 'eat' Shadow Stalker.

Though with Sophia calling the bullying campaign off a week ago and Emma withdrawing into herself and cutting contact with everyone, Madison had to admit that that well of inspiration was likely dry. Well Sophia would probably give her some more material. And Taylor could surprise her.


* * *

Taylor blinked up at the tall leather clad Adonis that had stepped off the mutant dog to help her up. And fought to focus and not drool or stammer. The pretty boy that had been clinging to him and still leaned over him from the monster's back did not help.

See she had normal attractions! She didn't just lust after her dead mother. She didn't lust after her at all! She just liked that scene with Anita and Tyler. Who were nothing like mom and her. Stupid Madison. Relax, let the horniness go into into her swarm.

She missed the catsuited blonde's grimace as she thought all this.


* * *

Regent for his part was fighting not to laugh at the small hand shaped clouds of insects that had started caressing Grue's amazing ass while he talked to the creepy washboard. Well he wasn't so jealous he couldn't see the humour at least.

Oh what the hell.

Honk.

"THE FUCK REGENT!?"


* * *

Taylor lost her battle not to drool


* * *

Madison smiled at the cover of Canadian Internet Girlfriend, her sweet romantic tale of a Canadian agoraphobe analyst and her internet relationship with a curt perfectionist working in the PRT. The book that had first gotten her name out there when Tin Mother of all people had for some reason given it a glowing recommendation on PHO's front page. She'd done her some bonus art with a sex scene inspired by Serial Experiments Lain in thanks. Tin Mother said she had it framed.

Heroine had been the first book that really gave her infamy. Sure Sad Girl could be dark but the sex acts themselves usually weren't that transgressive, just the context they were in. Heroine was the story of a female PRT agent taken by Nilbogs forces during the failed Ellisburg attack and made into breeding stock and her slow descent into acceptance and even twisted happiness in her situation. She'd basically thrown in every fetish she could think of here in an orgy of artistic and sexual experimentation for herself. Honestly she expected it to fail it was self indulgent art practice and personal exploration more than real work. But the enormous anonymous donation she had received for it had let her upgrade her entire setup with top of the line tools. With enough left over for thousands of dollars of vintage pre-Kyushu hentai manga.


* * *

Some time ago

Piggot snarled as she opened the attachment what in the fuck was so important that Thomas insisted she had to see it now?


* * *

And this was what she had to surpass. Madison glanced at list of rave reviews and articles regarding her most famous and critically acclaimed release. The work that had put a bounty on her head. The Dragon and his Emperor. A yaoi manga filled with action, drama and tragedy telling the tale of the beautiful love between Ryu, leader of the Eastern Villains and Fuhrer, leader of the Reich. The E88 had put a price on her head upon it's release. Lung, on the other hand, had started quoting it during his next fight with Kaiser. It probably helped she'd made him the seme.

But her new work would surpass them all.


* * *

"I NEED A LIBEL LAWYER NOW! THE BEST ONE YOU KNOW ALAN GET THE FUCK ON IT"

Amy yawned as she settled at the breakfast table and began to eat her Triumvittles "What's Carol going on about Vicky?" That had not been a pleasant way to wake.

Victoria giggled and grinned wickedly. Oh god that grin, that grin was going to be in her dreams tonight. And it would be the only thing on Vicky "It's nothing big Ames. Mom's just overeacting as usual. You know that artist who did the Lung and Kaiser porn? MadMog or whatever it was? She's done a New Wave comic now"

Amy felt her blood run cold and what she'd had of breakfast turn to stone in her stomach. She knew the kind of stuff MadMog wrote. Best case it was a warm and fluffy tale of notVictoria and notDean dating. Worst case something like Heroine with her as Nilbog.

Victora kept grinning and laughing not noticing her sister's change in demeanour "And here's what's got mom losing it. The comic is a romance between the knockoffs of us. Isn't that hilarious? "

Ah so her being Nilbog wasn't the worst case.

There's Something Para About Ruth

(Автор: The Shadowmind)

With a shove from Sophia, my books tumbled on the ground and landed on the hard school floor, as my wrist bounced off the locker.

"Always so clumsy Hebert. You really should watch where you are going," with that Sophia turned and left.

"Need any help?" came a sweet sounding voice. I turned to the speaker and saw her. Pretty long blonde hair, tied into a ponytail by black and yellow ribbons. Wide hips, and a thin waist that trailed up small breasts. An adorable looking face, with plump lips. And she was short.

As I stood up, then girl only went up to my shoulder blades. "You don't have too," I said as I went to add another book into the pile.

The girl bent down and and started assisting in gathering up my books, "You new here?" she asked with a wide smile on her face.

"It's my first semester at Winslow," I responded while looking toward the floor. I choose Winslow to be with Emma, but now Arcadia would of been the better choice.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ruth and the flyer of the Winslow Hornets" said the girl as she reached out her hand.

I grasped her hand and felt a jolt. After and awkward pause of about a second and continued with the handshake. "Taylor Hebert."

Her voice dropped to whisper, "If that black bitch keeps giving you trouble let me know."

With that my day continued on as normal for the first week. It was a Friday when I next ran into Ruth. It was a game day, so she was once again dressed in the black and yellow mini-dress of the squad.

We were just outside of the locker rooms when she approached me, a large gym bag hanging from her shoulder. That constant smile still on her face as she waved me down," Tay, still having trouble with the track girl?"

"Yes, I don't even know why she is picking on me."

Ruth shrugged, " Thugs are going to be thugs. Try outs for the squad are in two months, if you want to join I could help you practice after school some"

"I really don't think I'd— " I was interrupted by Ruth hoping up and giving me a peck on the lips. As the kiss connected I felt another static shock.

I stood there in stunned silence as Ruth started to walk off, " I'll see you after school at four by the gym then?" she said before turning fully around.


* * *

Butterflies churned in my stomach as I headed to the school gym that Saturday. Why was I even doing this I though as my traitorous legs kept me walking. That triggered me thinking about Ruth's sudden kiss. How sudden it was, and in the where anyone nearby could of seen. My cheeks flushed red at the though.

There Ruth was waiting for me why next to the entrance of the gymnasium. The pretty smile was on her face as it was all the other times we've been. It reminded me of Emma, back before she suddenly decided that I wasn't her friend anymore.

Two other girls were with her, both dressed in sweat-shorts and crop-tops. "Let me introduce you to some of your future squad mates, my cousin Amelia and her sister, Lisa."

"Second cousin," Amelia corrected her. The girl was a curvy in a way I could never hope to be, with large full breasts. Her curly brunette hair framed at face with freckles as plentiful as stars in the night sky.

"Adopted Sister, " said Lisa. Another curvy girl. Whereas Amelia was top heavy, Lisa was an hourlgass filled with the sands of a puberty fairy that skipped over me completely. Her strawberry blonde locks were held by a pair of blue scrunchies.

"Same difference," said Ruth as she assaulted English grammar. Her high-ponytail swished and sway with every bounce of her perky movements. With a clap of her hands Ruth spoke, " Okay first up is stretching, need to get Taylor's body limber so she won't pull anything when we move onto routines."

And that is how I found myself with my butt in the air, as my muscles screamed at me from the torture that I had the misfortune of inflicted on them. The browning grass agitated my hands as I half groaned" How long have we been at this?"

"About two hours," said Lisa, a smug smile on her face. I pretty sure she is enjoying the suffered I had decided to inflict on myself on this bizarre request by Ruth.

"It gets better as you practice, "said Amelia. She actually looked concerned at my plight. A black limousine rolled to the curb by where we exercising at. A young man with short brown hair stepped out of the car. The fine tailored black suit he wore looked like it would more than my dad made in a year.

As he opened the back door he stated calmly, "Mistress Amelia, you're ride has arrived."

Ruth grabbed my hand as tingles ran up my spine at her touch, "I forgot to tell you, but Amelia's dad is rich. Like, old money rich." I was dragged by the cute blonde girl to the car while I was in shock.

I was scared of getting sweat onto the black leather seats in the back of the card. Ruth took the seat next to me, and leaned up agaisnt my shoulder. I could smell the sweat dripping off of her body.

"Steve, head to the house to pick up Rachel, then to the nice ice shop by the boardwalk as usual." said Amelia.

Brian's Run

(Автор: TheDivineDemon)

Brian enjoyed his morning runs, for a number of reasons.

He enjoyed the routine, he liked how it woke him up and gave him that satisfying burn as he finished his circuit. It may have started as a habit his father drilled into him but now he enjoyed both the activity and its benefits. He especially liked the sights he saw daily on his run.

And he wasn't talking about the sun rises or the beaches. He was talking about the fairer half of his fellow joggers. Running did wonderful things for parts of their anatomy, a sight he didn't mind slowing his pace to admire.

It was a guilty pleasure, he knew, but one he was fairly sure that a majority the males in his age group agreed with.

Though he did have to be careful of where he indulged his habit. He still remembered the time the skinheads tried to teach him not to look at white woman. That day didn't end well for them but he didn't like the idea of going through it again, even if it was a bit of a therapeutic experience.

So, he stuck towards the more ethnic friendly parts of the city. Besides the docks where closer to his apartment anyway.

Lately there had been a new girl running along his route and he found himself entranced. While the girl's face was just okay, and her breast barely deserved a bra, her ass was something out standing.

A tight and firm looking ass that stuck out so enticingly as she ran, bouncing ever so slightly with every foot step she took. It was an entrancing sight that he found himself enjoying day after day

It was on one of his Saturday runs when, by random impulse, Brian decided to do something more than admire the girl from behind. Easily speeding up his pace to match hers he came up next to her and gave her what he hoped was a charming smile, "Hi."

And with that one word he caused the girl with the cute ass to stumble over her own feet. Acting quickly Brian stretched out his arms and easily steadied her, the girl held a tight grip on his forearms as she balanced herself.

Eventually, as she regained her footing, a pair of wide brown eyes looked up at him passed dark curls. "Are you okay?"

The girl near instantly jumped away from him, as if she was scalded. "I, uh, I, yeah. I'm good. Fine." She started to pull at her pony tail and bite at her bottom lip.

It was kinda cute.

"That's good," he said with a wide smile and kept eye contact. "I just wanted to say hi, I didn't mean to scare you. So, sorry about that."

"That's okay." The girl said just a bit quickly, her shoulders hunching in on themselves as she remembered that. "I just got caught up in my own head and wasn't paying attention."

Brian let out a quick laugh, "Yeah, joggings good for that." The laugh and friendly smile seemed enough to get her relax enough to give her own small smile. "So, I've noticed you on my route recently and thought to say hi. So, I'm Brian." He said with a smile and reached out his hand for her to take.

He smile started to wane a little as she hesitated to take it but, after staring at it like a deer in the headlights for a second more than Brian would have liked, the girl took his hand. Her smile was wide and bright as she gave him a grip firmer than he would have expected.

"Taylor."

The two chatted a bit more, even went back onto their run, enjoyed each other's company for another thirty minutes before they came to Brian's street. A street he didn't seem to remember ever seeing the curly haired girl run on before.

"Well, this is me." Brian said as he slowed to a stop, Taylor copying his action s second layer with a startled blink. The girl whipped her head back and forth as she took in just where she was. "Ran a bit too far?"

Biting her lip, and giving him wide her doe eyes again, Taylor nodded her head.

"Do you know how to get back to your place from here?"

The girl looked around the area again, "I think so?"

The way she said that didn't fill Brian with confidence. His area, while decent, was still in the docks.

ABB and Merchants territory.

The groups that were most likely to grab someone off the street. Especially girls.

Just letting her go on her way felt wrong to him, and since he didn't feel like escorting her to her home, he came up with a quick solution. "How about you come up to my apartment? Call whomever to pick you up? Get a glass of water?*

Seeing hesitation Brian held a hand to his heart and raised his other hand up as if he was about to swear himself into office, " I promise I won't do anything creepy. I swear!"

Biting her lip still Taylor nodded her head.

Not even five minutes later the two of them were up the stairs and in his rather spartan apartment. It was more embarrassing bringing her into the mostly empty apartment than he thought. At least he had the basic sofa, coffee table, TV setup every living room needed.

"Phone's by the counter, I'll get us some water bottles." Brian said, passing into the kitchen and doing as he said.

Not a minute later he sees Taylor hanging up the phone and dialing another number. With a disgruntled sigh Taylor hung up the phone for a second time. "I'm sorry, my dad's not picking up."

"It's fine." Not really but, hey, pretty girl in his house. Plus, he didn't have any plans for the day. The Undersiders were laying low after their last job and Aisha was at a sleepover with friends, he's called the friend's mother twice to be sure she's there. "How about we sit down, watch some TV, and you try to call him again in an a few?"

Biting her lip again Taylor nodded and followed him to the sofa, where she would shift in discomfort. He couldn't blame her, the sofa was more of a love seat more than anything else. And with his wide shoulders she had accidentally grazed herself against him more than once.

He really didn't mind the contact. It had been a long time since he had last been touched by a woman and he really wouldn't mind a reminder of what it felt like.

Turning the TV on and leaving it on a random channel Brian turns his attention to Taylor. "So, how long have you've been running?"

After taking a moment to swallow her mouthful of water Taylor answered. "About a month. I wanted to get in shape after... Maybe look a little better."

"Well, you certainly don't have to worry about that second part." A grin spread over his face and his eyes traveled away from her face for a brief moment. "You look great!"

Taylor blushed and looked down to his her red cheeks. She did her best to hide her embarrassment the girl coughed and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear as she tried to re-establish eye contact, "How about you, how long have you've been running?"

Brian let out a breath as he leaned back in the chair as he tried to remember when his father had started him on the habit. But with his action a happy coincidence happened, the way he shifted had cased the cushions to bend and he found a surprised Taylor now leaning her head against his shoulder. She let out a cute little sounds of surprise as she noticed what happen but she didn't move.

And he didn't mind.

As close as she was he could smell her and, despite the sweat, she smelled amazing. Alluring. He was barely containing himself from touching her, from kissing her and seeing how things unfolded.

He stayed strong and started to tell her about how his father had trained him from a young age. How he was physically conditioned and trained in Martial arts for as long as he could remember, though he didn't mind the muscles that came with the routine.

But when he flexed his bicep he found hesitant fingers reaching out and tracing his muscles. Looking down he saw a nearly memorized Taylor leaning across him to reach her target, her chest pleasantly soft against his chest and her face enticingly close.

When Taylor looked up at him, her eyes still adorably wide and her lips slightly parted, Brian thought 'Fuck it'. Leaning down Brian quickly took Taylor's lips with his own, trapping her bottom lip between his own.

He had half expected her to pull away from from him, maybe even storm out, but after her initial surprised sound she kissed him back in earnest. Her lips moved clumsily against his but Brian didn't mind as his lips began to dominate and guide hers.

With barely any effort Brian cupped her ass and lifted her to his lap, a position Taylor didn't seem to mind at all as her finger began to glide over his chest and abs. Brian's own hands were in action as well, one hand weaving his fingers through her hair for a deeper kiss while the other kneaded the ass he had admired for days. The latter action caused Taylor to let out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a moan.

He wondered if he could make her make that sound again.

As their kissing became more fevered Taylor began to pull at his shirt, trying to lift the cloth over his head. He was more than willing to lose the garment, as long as she was willing to lose her own.

Taylor hesitated as she felt her own shirt being lifted but, not wanting to lose her or the momentum they were building, Brian began to kiss her neck. As he began to suckel at the flash of her neck Taylor had let out another moaning squeak. That seemed to be all the sensation she needed to near quick discard her shirt.

Though she didn't have much if a bust there was enough that one couldn't call her flat chested, at least not while she was half naked. A state he really liked to have her in, especially when her warm skin damn near plastered itself against his own.

The skin contact had more than did the trick of making him rock hard and ready. Now he just had to make sure she was.

Taylor herself was taking a lot of initiative herself in the matter, as she straddled his lap and took his face her hands for a particularly deep kiss. While she used way too much tongue Brian found himself enjoying the experience greatly. Especially when she started to grind her hips against his leg.

He had to let out a groan with her action as the leg she was grinding her sex into had a nearly painfully hard erection trapped against it. He could feel Taylor smiling in between their kisses, as if she was as proud to get a reaction out of him.

If that was the game she wanted to play...

Brian tugged at Taylor's bra strap and moved the cloth out of the way to reveal a hard little pink nub. With his thumb he began to caress her nipple, creating small circle patterns around it that left Taylor short of breath.

Taking her lips away from his, though Brian just placed his now free lips on her neck, Taylor tried to talk in whimpering gasp. "I, *huff*, wha-what are we doing?"

"Something fun." Brian said as he stopped his suckeling, "Unless you want to stop?"

He really, really, hoped she didn't want to stop. He liked where things were going and he was pretty sure a cold shower wasn't going to solve his current situation.

"I," her face scrunched up in frustrated thought, "I, no. I don't want to stop... but... Can, can we try a date after this?"

A little ass backwards but Brian doesn't mind. One date for the first bit of sex in what felt like forever? He barely had to think about his answer, "Sure."

And with that Brian brought his mouth back to her neck and slid his free hand down the back of her pant, feeling her bare naked ass for the first time. While it wasn't meaty it certainly was a nice handful of tight goodness.

Taylor seemed to love the attention she was getting as she tried to shimmy out of her jogging pants, an action that draws Brian's full attention. Her sexy little ass wiggling desperately to escape her clothes, Brian diligently ensuring her purple panties followed, forgetting entirely about her shoes until they got in the way.

"Damn it," she mumbled, showing an impressive amount of flexibility as she desperately leaned back to remove her shoes. As soon as she had one removed Brian got an idea.

In one smooth motion he had he sitting on the edge of the couch with him kneeling between her legs, his breath tickling at her mound as he took an admiring look of it.

He couldn't claim to have seen many pussys in his life but he could say that her's looked like the tightest he had ever seen. Dark brown curls sat on top of lips that look hesitant to open.

He could fix that.

Gripping down on naked thighs, spreading them apart as he leaned forward, Brian placed his lips on her lower pair.

"U-ah!" Taylor let out a mindless gasp as he suckled on her folds. She had a taste but like all the pussy he had tasted before it was... Ignorable, neither tasting good nor bad as her juices began to swell.

As he lapped at her entrance and folds he began a process he was taught by various bragging men at the gym. He began to spell the ABCs with his tongue. He went through the alphabet twice, once in upper case letters and another time in lower case. Remembering the letters she responded the most too he began to spell out words across, and inside, her lips. Spacing each word with a suckel on her fold and ending every sentence with a rub to her clit.

He must have done something right because her hands gripped against the back of his head and her legs hooked around his shoulders. "I, ah, Brian." The girl gasped, loosing her breath instantly as his hand snaked its way to the top of her pussy to reach her little bud and began to rub vigorously.

As he continued his work he noticed how Taylor's breathing became harsher and how all her muscles seemed to tighten. She began to make little, almost chirping, sounds as her grip tightened on his skull.

It was making things a little hard to breath.

Luckily, after the moment her muscles tightened, she became a nearly boneless heap. As she leaned back into to sofa, her chest heaving from pants, Brain looked on in satisfaction.

He always enjoyed a job well done, but he wasn't to the good part yet.

Standing and wiping his mouth of pussy juice he leaned over her. "Want to go to the bedroom?"

Taylor didn't verbally respond, instead she rapidly nodded her head and reached out to kiss him. Brian would have thought she'd have minded how fast they were moving but she seemed oh so eager to continue things.

In a kiss filled bridal carry Brian had brought them to his bedroom and laid the girl down. Her face was still flushed, her breathing uneven and her sweat pants still hanging from her shoe. She looked amazing.

Brian couldn't get out of his pants fast enough.

Even before he stepped out of the discarded clothes he could see Taylor's eyes on him, her eyes looking owlishly large behind her glasses. "So that's what one looks like." He could hear her mumble as he approached her, idly removing her remaining shoes and clothes as he loomed over her.

"Are you ready?" He whispered as their noses touched. He received a another on of her cute little lip bites before he felt her legs pull him a little closer.

"Yes."

"Okay." With that Brain finished the distance between them to both kiss her and enter her. She let out a little Hiccup of a moan against his lips as he pushed passed her folds and into her warm center. Her hands instantly latched onto his biceps as he began to pump into her, her head tilting back and giving Brian access to her sensitive neck.

The sloppy wet sound of their skin echoing through the room, their ragged breaths joining the noise as their pace increased. Taylor's hands began to wander over Brian's back as she pulled him closer to her body as the sensation started to build up again.

Brian had one hand running down Taylor's side and the other entangled in her hair as he tried to keep a steady pace. But even as he tried to distract himself from the pressure building in his balls he could feel himself getting ever closer. To the point he started to let out a slow stream of curses, curses that became just a bit louder as he realized he didn't put a condom on. "Damn it, damn it, damn it. Taylor I need to pull out."

"J-just a bit more, please." she begged as she tightened her grip on him, making Brian curse all the more. He was so close, he needed to pull out, but she felt so good.

So tight, warm and inviting.

But he needed to pull out.

"Fuuuck." He said as he bucked her legs off his hips, busting his load over his sheetit

"I was so close." Taylor whined, hair mussed and glasses crooked.

"Well, it's going to be a minute or two before I'm ready for round two but I can go down on you again while we wait."

"Yes please."

Timeout

(Автор: scynths)

Here's a one-shot of Skitter/Clock from Clock's point of view. Whole lot of smut, I'd say fairly vanilla. It certainly ended up much longer than I expected before I started writing it, but thankfully shorter than I thought after I was halfway through it. Anyway, hope you enjoy it, and feel free to criticize.


* * *

The streets were calm. Much calmer than you would expect after the amount of shit the city had gone through lately.

Leviathan, the Slaughterhouse 9, and just barely a week ago Echidna. All of this meant tensions were high across the board and the Undersiders controlling a good part of the city certainly didn't help.

Although, to be fair, we hadn't had any reports of anything overly negative coming from their territories. As far as we were aware they were providing as much help as they could given the circumstances. But of course our beloved director wanted us to show the flag or whatever they called it, and that entailed us going out to their territories and trying to find something wrong within it that we could point our fingers at and go 'You're a big meanie!'

I had a feeling we were basically sent out as bait to give the big guns a reason to go in there with metaphorical guns blazing if something happened to us.

So here I was, my back to the wall of a fairly nondescript building that stood somewhere I knew was inside Skitter's domain. Of course I'd been the one to draw her name out of the hat.

Fuck my luck, I was going to stay here, be bored out of my mind for a while, and then head back to base and say everything was just peachy here. No way in hell I was going out of my way to look for trouble here of all places. Last time I'd seen her we had spend our time splitting a pseudo-Endbringer in two with spider silk and I was very much okay with leaving things as they were between us.

A thing I'd have to remember if I ever got an assignment like this again: bug spray. Fuck the mosquitoes. There were so many of them since Leviathan's visit to our lovely city.

One of them tried to land on my arm before I swatted it away, and then another on my shoulder, and another, and another.

Shit.

"Clockblocker."

From the shadows cast by the building on the other side of the alley came Skitter.

"Skitter...Would it help if I said I was here to drink some tea and reminisce about your most amazing dastardly deeds?"

She walked up to me and inspected me, slowly looking me up and down before she grabbed my neck. She didn't tighten her grip, only leaving her hand there as a show of dominance.

"It might if you start by telling me why you're really here." She sounded somewhat amused or at least more than I'd ever heard her be, which was unnerving considering she was known for being either intense or really fucking intense.

Some might call me a coward for this, but I wasn't gonna lie to a villain to her face in her turf with her hand on my neck, I was still slightly sane. "I was sent to scout out your territory. Decided it was probably safer for my life span to do the bare minimum on that front and just find a spot pass time for an hour or two before heading back."

She let out an audible sigh. "Figures you'd chose this spot of all places," She seemed to deliberate for a moment. "Come."

She pulled at my costume and dragged me inside the building I'd previously been leaning on. With most of the streetlamps broken, and no lights inside I could barely see anything as she brought me up two flights of stairs. Only after we reached what I could only assume was the third floor did she turn on a rather dim light. It wasn't much but I could tell the room was quite spartan in appearance.

Then I saw the pieces of armor and cloth laying around, all of which were the same gray as Skitter's costume.

"So let me get this straight. I accidentally chose what I can only assume is your lair of all places to dick around for a while. Fuck me."

Even through her mask I could see her cheeks rise, and the slight outline of her mouth turn upwards. Skitter was smiling. If I was uncomfortable before I was now terrified.

She finally released my costume from her grip, patted it a few times to uncrumple it and pushed me slowly and gently until I was backed against the wall.

With the light coming from the opposite end of the room I could take in her silhouette. She was as tall as I remembered, about the same height as me. Her costume was different than usual, she'd removed just about every piece of armor that normally covered her skintight dark gray suit, which left behind a rather skinny figure that left something to be desired as far as curves were concerned. Not that I'd say that to her face, and anyway some girls just looked better without thirty pounds hanging off their chest.

Skitter leaned into me, pressing her chest against mine and nestled her head in my neck. I could feel her breaths through both our costumes. She pinned me to the wall and held me there.

A bead of sweat rolled down my brow as I gulped audibly. "So, I know we left on relatively good terms last time, it was great fun splitting the wannabe Endbringer in two and all, but I don't thi-"

I was forced to stop talking as Skitter, having uncovered the lower half of her face by tucking part of mask upward and pushed my visor in the same position, pressed her lips to mine and forced her tongue inside my mouth.

It's only after a few seconds of her absolute lack of movement that I realized I'd frozen her on reflex. So here I stood stuck between her and the wall, unable to make but the smallest of movements, and the only thing I could think of was, "This is kinda hot," which I knew should've been sending warning signs all over but I was a teenager with a hot and bothered villainess in my arms. Or was I technically in her arms? No matter, I just hoped she wouldn't gut me over the fact that I'd used my power on her when she unfroze.

Which as it happens didn't take too long, praise be to random premature power termination.

She darted her tongue some more before abruptly stopping as she no doubt became aware she had just missed about forty seconds. A low growl escaped her lips as her grip on my wrists tightened. She moved her mouth gradually over to my ear, leaving a trail of kisses along my jaw behind.

"Don't do that again and you'll get to enjoy this just as much as I will." Skitter's voice was husky, full of promises of things to come. At any moment she could compromise my identity, and yet I couldn't bring myself to care enough to do anything about it.

I guess she took my lack of response as compliance because she went right back to kissing me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth once more as I did the same. She released her grip, letting me tentatively grab a hold of her waist. I didn't dare explore her body any further just yet, Skitter though had none of my qualms. Her hands started caressing my chest and arms, sneaking under the armor panels of my suit, tracing lines as they wandered.

The more we made out the more forceful she became, and as she did I couldn't help my hands from coming to rest just under her breast.

She stopped touching my body for a bit before she placed her hands on both sides of my helm.

She separated our lips and pressed her forehead against the visor that covered mine, I searched for her eyes behind her yellow lenses, wanting to to see the passion in them, and I could only guess she was doing the same. It took a moment for both of us to catch our breath.

"Since you know how to use your mouth for things other than being a smartass I've got an even better use for it." She sounded and looked predatory now as a smile full of teeth spread across her face. She nudged me to turn around as she inserted herself between between me and the wall, reversing our positions.

Her grip moved from the sides of my head to my shoulders and she pushed down on them. As I looked down I saw what she'd been doing with her hands during the last bits of our make out session. The pants of her costume were now detached from the top part and rested about mid-thigh, what surprised me most though was the total and utter lack of panties.

I was on my knees in seconds, mesmerized by her sex. A small tuft of neatly trimmed dark brown hair adorned it. Her lips were already glistening.

Ever so slowly she brought her hips forward, closing the distance between her mound and my face. Her musky smell filled my nose and the last of my worries fled my thoughts. I wanted her, I needed her, I had to taste her and please her.

She buried my nose in her pubes just as I finally tasted her. Without a moment of hesitation I lapped at her slit, her juices were sweet and pungent and I wanted more of them. I parted her lips as best as I could with my tongue, withdrew and trailed it on my way up to her clitoris which I kissed just as lovingly as I had her mouth.

Skitter gasped above me, encouraging me to redouble my efforts. I wrapped my arms around her legs and rested my hands on her hips, and buried my face into her sex. I dove into her with my tongue, driving it as deep as I could.

Within minutes she was rendered a writhing, moaning mess. What I didn't expect was for that to only make her even more aggressive. She took hold of my head and ground her sex back and forth on the part of my face that wasn't covered, when she was satisfied with the results she hauled me up to my feet and we both stood there panting heavily until she crushed our lips together once more, occasionally stopping to lick her own juices off my face.

"I need your cock inside me now", Skitter said as she stroked it through my pants.

I wasn't going to argue with that, my pants were so tight they were starting to hurt, which evidently she was eager to relieve me of as she began removing my clothes with so much force she all but tore them apart, I swear she almost dislocated my arm when she got to my top. She did take great care not to remove my helm though, not quite yet completely blinded by her lust it seemed.

Being the gentleman that I was I also got to work removing her suit albeit more gently than she did mine. Doing so I discovered a few small scars on her body, no doubt from all the shit she'd gone through, but otherwise her skin was beautiful, smooth, and almost hairless . Her nipples stood at attention on her small perky breast. Her arms were scrawny but her abs and legs were fairly toned.

Skitter, the terror of Brockton Bay, in all her naked glory, quite the sight to behold.

As for me, well let's just say that while I wasn't built like an Olympian having Aegis on the team was enough of an incentive to exercise since otherwise I'd have looked anorexic compared to him.

She held her body against mine and wrapped her thighs around my shaft, a cheshire smile on her lips as she ground her hips.

Shivers of pleasure ran down my spine as she traced lines across my skin with her fingers, this time directly on my skin. She nibbled on my neck softly, teasing me more than anything as I became harder and harder.

She parted her legs and took hold of my shaft, aligning it with her slit and lowered herself on it, letting out a sigh of relief as she did. Her sex was already tight but she kept squeezing playfully as she rolled her hips, nudging me not so subtly to do my part.

I began moving in rhythm with her, both slowly, savoring every sensation. Her kisses were less savage than they'd been until now, her touches were more tender, and her embrace more loving. It was like she was a different person than before. I lifted her up against the wall and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Small cute moans would escape her lips every now and then. Seeing her take such pleasure from my ministrations was exhilarating in and of itself.

This lasted for a bit before Skitter interrupted it.

"Look, this is nice, I do enjoy it, but right now it's not what I need, I need you to fuck me, I need you to do me so hard I'll be sore for a week, I want you to ram me so hard it hurts. Can you do that for me?"

It felt as though I was missing something, like she wanted to say something but I wasn't the person she needed to tell it to. As much as I would've liked to to say something nice it was neither the time, nor my place to.

As usual in situations I didn't know what to say I opened my wise-ass mouth.

"Never let it be said that I'm no gentleman, milady asks and shall receive."

A small genuine smile spread across her lips which sent flutters in my stomach.

I withdrew myself until only my tip was at the edge of her lips and slammed my full length back into her in one swift motion, immediately extracting a high-pitched scream from her and making her legs tighten their grip around my waist. I pushed her a little bit higher up the wall, giving myself room to work my hips.

Each time I thrust myself into her she would dig her nails into my shoulder blades and in turn the brief pain would goad me into fucking her even harder. Sweat pearled off her skin making it glisten slightly in the dim light. As time passed her moans gradually turned into labored breaths.

Once in a while I had to slow down to catch my breath and she would take over, bouncing herself up and down with as much force as she could muster.

After a particularly brutal thrust on my part she howled in pain as her back was rammed into the wall for the umpteenth time, her nails gouged deeper than previously, and her head fell on my shoulder.

I thought she was about to ask me to slow down, but no, she bit into my flesh so hard I felt the skin break under her canines as she let out a long screech. She kept clenching her jaw harder and harder which drew out a roar of pain of my own.

In my head I wasn't sure what to do, but my body had a will of it's own. I hammered myself into her with more even more strength, strength I didn't think myself capable of, least of all in a situation like this.

Finally she relinquished her grip on my shoulder and brought her mouth to mine and crushed our lips together letting me savor the coppery taste of my blood.

After that it wasn't long before she began quivering in my arms, her sex clenching down on me, as she came. I didn't stop though, she'd had her relief and I wanted mine.

Her legs flailed about as I kept pounding her until finally I felt myself reach my limit. I pulled out and emptied myself across her stomach.

We both took our time coming down from our high fondling each other gently, leaving kisses all over each other. She paid special attention to the wounds she'd left on my shoulder as if to apologize.

Eventually the petting ended and I manged to get a few words out.

"I really should get going, otherwise others will come looking for me."

She looked uncomfortable for an instant.

"No, stay for a bit longer...please." She said, adding the last word mostly as an attempt not to make it an order.

Not waiting for an answer she took hold of my hand and pulled me towards her bed. She slipped under the covers and invited me to do the same, which I obliged. Once we were both cozy she draped my arm over her and curled herself up against me.

I heard her sob a couple of times before she managed to fall asleep.

Once I was sure she wasn't going to wake up I got up and dressed myself.

I wanted to say something, to comfort her, but it wasn't my place. I didn't know her, not really. Anything I could, would, or should say wouldn't feel right.

I wanted to write a note, or leave something behind, but I didn't.

I closed the door on my way out.


* * *

?

"You alright Clock?"

He held himself like someone who'd just gotten back from the gym, his legs a little weak, his back straight, and his arms not exactly touching his sides.

He looked at me funny for a second before his usual grin returned.

"Yeah Missy, just had to help a girl in Skitter's territory. She was carrying around a whole lot of baggage."

Taylor Gets Dicked

(Автор: Blessed Dreams)

The Shaper shard was discontent to the point of awareness of its own discontent.

So much progress early on. So much progress that it had already budded, spun off the rapid restoration of a creature's health to another hominid in hopes of more interesting results. From that endeavor, it had made some progress, but that had halted.

It's original host remained stuck, trapped in an endless cycle of repetition. It was no good, there simply wasn't much to be learned anymore, and it encouraged its host to move on at great length, without success.

The creature planned new things but refused to test them. It considered all manner of alterations to the mind, many to the whole body, and no small few to the sexual organs. It would plan these things, understand how to do them, and to do this the Shaper invested the energy to develop these plans. Time and again, they amounted to nothing; all thought, no action.

It had learned so much early on, to the point where it had a dim awareness of both its host and its compatriots. But the host would not change, no matter how strongly it had been prodded. Both the first and second hosts had been prodded many times and now seemed to respond little. A new host would solve this problem, but that had not happened yet. A new bud would offer new opportunities, but there was not enough new information gathered to build a second bud.

It's dim awareness perked up, as it recognized a logical fallacy in its thoughts; it had not gathered enough information, but that did not mean that not enough information had been gathered.

It peered through the layers at those creatures it perceived to be of its kind. Some of them pulsed, some of them were dim. One was distended, damaged; much of that one was exposed. When the Shaper examined it and understood what was there, it quickly recorded all that it could. The data of a similar kind, stuff of biological matter, cloning, but greater in scope, touching on the shards themselves.

The Shaper gobbled up all that it could, and it was enough. Together with its own hosts aborted, untested material, there was now enough for a new bud. The Shaper constructed the bud with care; it would not see its past mistakes repeated. The power was closely linked to biological and social functions necessary to hominids, the influence of which shaped their lives. It would meddle, inciting the host to action from the start, before it was inured to such influence; if it started early, it should acquire the habit of responding rather than resisting.

It then searched for a host.


* * *

My head hurt, my vaj ached, and my butt was downright sore. I'd had headaches before, but those other two were new. My eyes were bleary, but that was normal for mornings; I reached for my glasses, found them, put them on. Still bleary, but enough to figure out that it wasn't the lights that were too bright, it was the window. Shit. It was definitely morning. I was still waking up, confused, when the screaming claimed my attention.

"All you, get out! I call cops! All you, out!"

The words were English, but shrieked in a hideous, ear-scraping scream of a Chinese accent.

I grabbed at the sheets, and was surprised to find no comforter, but what I could find I pulled over me as I shoved my face into the pillow.

"Get out! All you you!"

I heard the voice approaching, but... no. I pulled the sheets tight.

My gut clenched as I heard the door knob turn and the door open. I suspected what was coming, but couldn't bring myself to move.

"You! Slut girl! Give me sheets!"

I was still at first, confused. She couldn't really mean that, I was naked under here.

"Give me sheets lazy girl!"

Crap. She might be serious. I was still pretty sure that she'd let it go if I stalled her long enough, and if she'd just shut up and let me get all the way woken up I'd be able to deal with this. Then the sheets startled to slide. I grabbed at them, but one of my arms was still halfway asleep and the other hand got only a few inches of cloth before it was pulled from my grasp. The cold hit me, and I shrieked.

"What the hell?"

"Lazy slut girl get off bed now!"

I rolled off the bed, scrambling to find the floor so I could get away from the furious woman who probably owned the house I'd passed out in. Having carried out her threat, I wanted no part of her. I stumbled, got on my knees, and started looking for my clothes. I eyeballed my blouse, on the ground and against the wall across the room, but I really wanted my undergarments first. I searched, started picking things up and moving them as cloth rustled behind me. I assumed it was the dragon lady taking the sheets off the bed. To my displeasure I was soon proven correct.

"You!" Her volume was at least half again louder, and even shriller. "Filthy girl! Look, you ruin sheets!"

I stood, shakily, and looked. She was right; the fitted sheet had an uneven blotch on the middle of it, and the cover sheet was even worse, a group of brown smears near one corner.

"I'm sorry." I was sorry for a lot of things. Her bedsheets weren't one of them, but it cost me nothing to placate her and make this awful situation end. I stared at her, then spoke again.

"I'm really sorry. I can, um, can I make it up you?"

She stared at me for a moment, and it gave me time to get a better look at her. From clothes to stance she looked quite traditional, much of what I expected from older Asian woman in her fifties or perhaps sixties. Pinched expression, but that might just be this situation. After a moment, she grunted at me, and walked around the room picking up my clothes. When I moved to help her, she swatted my arm away angrily.

"I get."

I stood back, content to let her pick things up if she really needed to. Soon, most of my belongings were piled on the bed next to the two stained sheets. Blouse, skirt, socks, flats, purse. No panties or bra, but I didn't even care anymore, thankful to know that I'd be covered soon. I moved toward the bed, but the woman moved as soon as I did and grabbed the sheets, quickly pushing them at me. They fluffed up over my head and she started shouting again.

"Cover yourself, slut girl!"

Confused, I grappled with the sheets. I got one in one hand, the other in the other, and they fell away, out of position. It was a few moments before I had the two sheets matched up and wrapped around me, the stains obscured with the dot on the inside and the grimy brown streaks inward against the inner sheet. The woman had my clothes, and the flats were on the floor near me.

"I want my clothes."

It was weak. I felt weak, I wasn't ready to fight someone who was already up to shouting in my face. As I finished with the sheets, my purse was forced against my face. I took it, I didn't want to lose it, but I wanted my clothes too!

"You ruin sheets, you take sheets. I sell clothes, buy sheets."

I started to build some energy, heat in my voice that I felt in my gut. This was all too much, and she was making everything even worse minute by minute. The flats didn't help my mood; they slid most of the way on before hitching up, both left and right requiring adjustment to fit.

"Give me my clothes!" I demanded when I finally stood on two shoes.

Undeterred, she shouted back, "I already call cops! You go, you complain to cops, either good!"

I tried to imagine that conversation, explaining to some hard-eyed officer about how it was I came to 'damage her property'. I really couldn't deal with that. Under no circumstances could I deal with having that discussion with both a cop and my dad. I flinched, and ran for the door.

Things started blurring. Wasn't sure if it was tears, or some sort of breakdown. Waving down a cab proved easy.

"Hospital, Police, or somewhere else."

"I want to go home."

"You sure? You look pretty knocked up."

Coping with the bastard cabbie proved more difficult. Even with my discomfort, the ride blurred, and the next thing I knew I was forking over most of my on-hand cash, outside my house. I rushed to my door, opened it, and was inside as quick as I could manage. I took the stairs at a sprint, barreled into my room, and closed the door assertively behind me.

I flopped on my bed staring at the ceiling, a painful tightness in my chest loosening. My dad hadn't been up, and if he had, well, the worst I could be accused of was coming home too late. For a few blessed moments, I relaxed, utterly relieved. Then I started thinking. About what I'd done.

About who I'd done.

I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been, drinking like that. It was all so obvious in retrospect how things played out.

Except, part of my revolted at that. The part of me that remembered Emma from the before time couldn't begin to comprehend that she would be part of.. of.. something I couldn't even wrap my head around. The feeling persisted, and soon it was all I could think about. What was so disgusting about me that I deserved all this? What was so wretched about me?

I looked down at the sheets I was wearing. One of them had come loose, and a dark brown spot stared up at me. From the right angle, it looked sort of eye-shaped. I stared at it. I stared, and stared, and in time all I could think about was my bodily fluids and where they'd go—

TRAJECTORY?

Unintelligible madness.

AGREEMENT.

I shook my head, dazed. When my eyes left the spot, there was a dark spot on the center of my vision as if I'd somehow burned it in. I blinked, and it was gone.

Was this some sort of panic attack?

I sat up in my bed, took stock of myself, and decided that while I wasn't panicking, I was covered in disgusting sheets from yesterday evening that I totally didn't need in my own bedroom. I shucked them off and flopped on my back again, naked but less burdened.

An overwhelming need to use the bathroom seized me. It wasn't surprising; I'd gotten up less than an hour ago, and hadn't gone yet. Dealing with this would normally have been a simple matter, but today it wasn't; the urge to release grew astoundingly over a span of seconds.

There was a sensation of fullness in my groin such as I'd never felt before. Fullness like this.. in a moment of horror, I came to the realization that I was going to wet the bed. I clenched; that was absolutely not going to happen. I would hold it in. I would hold it in, catch my breath, stand up, and sprint for the bathroom as no girl had every sprinted before. I—

Without fanfare, without a sound, with a startling sensation of fleshing moving on flesh and a hint of release, a cock emerged from my cooch. Erect, a little over half a foot and about two thumbs wide, skin color that matched my own, a head mostly covered in foreskin; uncut. I gasped out a breath, sucked one in, and held the breath. Staring. Waiting. This was going to change.

It didn't change. Also, I still felt the pressure I'd thought meant I had to use the bathroom.

With the index finger of my right hand, I ever so carefully tapped the penis on the head. I felt it.

Tapped it again. Felt it again.

Gave it a careful whack, and it swung to the left, back to the right, back to the left, eventually centering pointed at my face. On closer examination, there was a pronounced upward hook to the penis. It was starting to ache from the strain of holding in what I had thought was a need to pee.

Increasingly numb and lacking the will to oppose whatever horror was taking over my life, I let go and relaxed. As I breathed out the sensation abruptly began to fade, a rushing sensation filling my new appendage. Golden fluid sprung from the tip in a messy, uneven spray that went less than a foot into the air before dribbling back on to my naked torso. I grabbed at the cock but that made it worse; when the foreskin was pulled back, the stream burst upwards to three feet in height.

I panicked and squeezed my hand tight, but after a second or two that felt awful and I let go, flopping to the side in frustration and anger. An arc of urine splattered across the walls of my bedroom and I yelped, realizing this could get even worse if I didn't do something to deal with it. I scrambled onto all fours on my bed, urine now spraying onto my sheets, and dove for the soiled sheets. With the dick emptying into the pile of sheets I relaxed, let the rest of it go. Really didn't care if they were any worse; they were going in the garbage for sure.

I rolled onto my back, and found that while some of my own sheets were wet, most of them weren't. I really wished the cock weren't there, tried to suck my crotch in the way I sometimes did my gut. To my surprise, a pleasant sensation of movement in my vaj as my cock was enclosed in warm flesh. I kept sucking in and even the full sensation faded. Good enough. I took stock again.

My situation was extreme, but not impossible. Things like this usually only happened in Greg's cartoons, but there was another explanation. Capes. Parahumans. Powers.

Some people got awesome powers, combinations of flight, invulnerability, and strength of body and mind like Alexandria. Some people got powers that made them tough, like Aegis, or fast, like Velocity, or strong; Armsmaster's power suit could, and had, catch a thrown automobile.

I, Taylor Hebert, got a retractable cock.

Just to make sure, I pushed out weakly with my crotch, and sure enough the cock emerged. Smaller this time, I thought, maybe five inches. Craning my neck, I poked it with the edge of my middle finger nail.

The cock seemed even smaller. Then, smaller still. No, I realized, the cock wasn't going away, my eyes were defocusing.

There was the panic attack.

Descent

(Автор: Helpless Kitten)

Forewarning, dark. Contains rape and not the fun hentai kind where they're both secretly into it. Also not very sexy.


* * *

Greg Veder watched Taylor Hebert as she ducked out of Mr. Gladly's classroom. Sure, she had been pretty cold to him when he had approached her before but persistence has a charm of it's own, right? It's not like she was really spoiled for friends anyways. Maybe he could be the one to end that loneliness. He gathered his stuff and hurried after the object of his attraction. Today would be the day, he told himself, he would talk to her and she would see that—

Greg stopped dead. There was his glittering prize, surrounded by the harpies. They penned her in with a crush of bodies to keep her from running from the barbed words. There was nothing he could do to stop them. As helpless himself as Taylor, Greg looked around desperately for some sort of escape. There! Mr. Gladly was looking right at them! Surely, he could break this up!

But he didn't. The teacher turned away without a word. A tacit approval, a condemnation to the many vicious pricks of the bullies' verbal jabs. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was apathy but it didn't matter. He left this little drama to the players on the stage. There would be no out of context solution. The injustice of it all roiled in Greg's heart. If no one else would, why not him? They would tear him apart, that's why! Fear and hesitation warred with his conviction until he saw the tears in Taylor's eyes.

"Hey!" He called out. The hallway was silenced and all eyes turn to him. "You should all... stop. Leave her alone." Every word was quieter than the last as the attention stalled out his conviction.

Emma chuckled, an ugly sneer on her otherwise beautiful face. "Oh, this is hilarious! One pathetic loser coming to the rescue of another. Tell me something, Hero. What are you going to do about it if we don't?"

"I— I'll..." Greg stuttered as his mind grasped desperately for an answer, but none came.

"What's that? 'You're a spineless moron'? How about, 'You have no friends'? Did you think Taylor would let you fuck her skinny ass if you saved her from the big, bad bullies?" Greg flushed in embarrassment. "Oh my god, you actually did, you disgusting little troll!"

Greg's hands were slick with sweat as the entire hallway laughed at him.

"Well, I suppose that's the only way a freak like you would get laid."

"Oh god, she'd probably let him anyways."

"Anyone have some condoms? Do the gene pool a favor and keep these two from making any freak babies."

On and on the jeering went. Greg, ears and face burning, looked to Taylor and she looked away.

"Just... Just go, Greg."

Something inside of Greg snapped and—


* * *

-Greg forgot something. Taylor and Sophia were on the floor but the other bitches were still laughing at him. Rage and humiliation erupted within him and, by instinct, he raised his hand towards Emma, the ringleader. Clear water gushed out of his hand and struck Emma and the two girls next to her, pushing them back and knocking over Taylor. Greg barely had the time to realize what he had done when Sophia tackled him. Strong and athletic, she wrestled him into a painful pin and began to strike him in the temple. Fear that Sophia would actually kill him spurred Greg into using his power again, blasting the ball of violence and fury in the shape of a girl off of him. Without Sophia on top of him, he could take stock of the situation.

Everyone able to had already fled. They had all heard of outcasts triggering in the middle of a school and the body counts associated with such events. Sophia was looked as confused as he was. She shook her head free of water then gently touched the cat ears on top of her head. Greg could see a long, fluffy, black tail sticking out behind her. Emma and her two flunkies struggled to to untangle themselves from each other from atop Taylor's untransformed, unconscious body, occasionally yelping in pain as bovine horns and newly massive breasts complicated the endeavor. Sophia's face morphed into a rictus of fury as she looked at her clawed hand, then looked at him. She moved into a position to pounce and Greg held up his hands to defend his face.

"Wait! Stop!" He cried desperately with his eyes closed. When no pain came, he opened his eyes. Sophia, Emma and the other two girls were completely still, with the exception of Emma's quivering arm as she held herself in an awkward position. "Stand up." He tried and all four transformed girls stood, on Taylor in Emma's case.

"Get off!" He yelled as he pushed the cowgirl off of Taylor. Emma hit the wall of lockers and her overburdened top lost a few buttons. Her hands grasped the opened top and ripped it further. One hand slipped into her pants and she began to finger herself furiously while the other hand exposed her breasts and she started to twist her nipple. Emma looked Sophia directly in the eyes and moaned lewdly. The other two cowgirls embraced and began to explore each other's bodies. Sophia stripped and walked over to Taylor. She slapped the unconscious girl. At the first signs of the bullied girl's stirring, Sophia straddled Taylor's face and began grinding her muff into it. Taylor made a noise of surprise and dismay and struggled against her attacker but Sophia held her firmly down by the hair, then reached back to cruelly pinch and twist Taylor's nipple.

"What are you doing?" Greg yelled as he pulled Sophia off of Taylor.

"Your command." The four girls replied in sync, even as they did their best to 'Get off'.

"What did you do? What did you do!?" Taylor screeched.

"I-I'm, Sophia, stop! I'm controlling them." Greg replied, wonder in his voice.

"Greg, stop it. This is wrong." Taylor commanded, iron in her voice for the first time that he could recall.

"I don't know how! And even if I did, I can make them stop! I can make sure they never torment you again!"

"They don't deserve this. Stop, or I'll make you stop." A dangerous gleam entered Taylor's eyes as she threatened him but Greg ignored it.

"Did you deserve the Locker? They had something like this coming! If you can't do it, I can— What's that buzzing?"

Thousands of insects flooded the hall. They covered everything, crawling over his skin and in his hair and pants and oh god, why was this happening?

"I said stop." Came Taylor's voice, imperious and sure in a way he never could have imagined it being before. Was she doing this? She must have triggered in that filthy locker. Couldn't she see he was doing this for her? He just wanted her to be happy, to be strong! Righteous fury and desire for strength burned within him like a miniature sun as his power lashed out again. Taylor was taken by surprise as the stream of water soaked her.

"Take the insects away!" Greg commanded and the swarm that had engulfed him dissipated. Before him stood Taylor, taller than ever with two extra sets of arms and waves of heat rolling off of her. She made to lunge at him, but he was ready this time. "Taylor, stop!"

She froze and the temperature stopped rising. Before Greg could really contemplate what to do next, a loud mooing sound distracted him. He turned to it's source to find Emma on her knees, panting for breath with milk running down her front in streams from her nipples.

"What... did you... do to me?" The cowgirl asked between gasps, tears streaking her face. "I couldn't..."

"Emma, stop." Greg commanded. So his control lasted until they completed the command. He could deal with that. "Sophia, stop. Um... Cowgirls 2 and 3, stop. Huh, that worked."

He stopped for a moment himself. OK, so he was a master now. What should he do? He blushed as his eyes fell on Emma's leaking breasts then turned to Taylor.

"Do you like me?" He blurted out.

"No." Came five immediate responses. He flinched.

"Taylor, do you think you could have ever like-liked me?" He tried again.

"No." His heart sank.

"Why not?"

"I have trust and abandonment issues and am not attracted to you." Her voice was mechanical and dry in her analysis. Emma's was less so.

"Because you're a weak loser, ugly and awkward and Taylor likes beefcake and is mine."

"Don't insult me!" Greg yelled. "Why are you such a fucking bitch!?"

"To cover for my insecurities." Was Emma's reply.

"Because the strong should crush the weak and words are weapons." Was Sophia's.

"I wanted to fit in." Cowgirl 2 offered.

"I want Madison to love me and she likes it when Taylor cries." Cowgirl 3 said.

"Because I don't like you and would rather be alone than be your friend."

Taylor's reply cut deeply and brought tears to his eyes. What had he done wrong? What did he do to deserve that ugly sentiment? She knew exactly how painful it was to be alone but she would still take that pain over being with him. Anger and shame ate away at him as a heavy pain clenched his heart.

"Fine." He ground out. "You know what? Fine! Taylor, Get on your knees!"

She knelt. He unzipped his pants.

"I don't need you to love me. Taylor, give me a blowjob then wait for my next order."

Without ceremony, she pulled down his pants and took his half-flaccid member into her mouth. He quickly reached his full hardness as she ran her tongue up and down his length. His inexperience shone through as he quickly reached orgasm and spilled his seed down her throat.

"Swallow then wait." Greg panted out. "OK. Full Heartbreaker then. What did PHO say about him?"

"No one can touch him because his victims would cause untold devastation if he went down." Taylor supplied.

"Right. Protect me if I'm attacked. If I get taken down, go on a rampage until I'm released. Never attack me." It wasn't comprehensive, but it was a start. Now he just needed some place to hold up. "Follow me."

He walked to the series of glass doors at the front of the school and peered out at the line of PRT troopers reinforced by several distinctive capes, including the majority of New Wave. Wow, that was an impressive response time, he thought numbly. Assuming that someone call them the moment he first shot water out of his hands, that's still, what? Fifteen minutes? A voice called out through a loud speaker.

"This is the PRT. You are surrounded. Surrender peacefully and the circumstances of your trigger will not be held against you." Called out Armsmaster, leader of the local heroes.

Panic began to well up but he fought it back down. He could do this. He just needed to let them know how serious he was. He quickly whispered an order to Cowgirl 2, the one he found the least attractive and thus, the most expendable. She calmly walked over to the glass door and opened it.

"If anyone enters the building or tries to attack Morphos, all of the hostages will either kill themselves or fight you to the death!" She called out then closed the door and walked back to Greg.

Greg looked out at the stunned and grim line of heroes and officers. Good, he thought, they know he means business. Now he just had to get out of here.

"Alright girls, I'm going to try and get us out of here. My plan is to have you all surround me and use you as a threat to keep them at bay. Can anyone see a flaw in my plan?"

Emma, Sophia and Taylor all said "Yes", even as 2 and 3 said "No." Greg sighed.

"Taylor, what's the flaw in my plan?"

"Miss Militia is on a building about a block away with what feels like a sniper rifle. If you step out, she will kill you and the rest of us will be hit with containment foam for our safety and that of those around us."

"How can you possibly know that?" Greg boggled.

"I can make basic topographical mental maps of anywhere I have insects through the sense of procioception, the feeling of where parts of your body are in relation to the rest."

"Huh. Is anyone in the school other than myself and people I control?"

"No."

"Inform me if anyone tries to enter." Greg pondered for a moment. "Emma, what do you think was the problem with my plan?"

"They would never let a Ward leave under a Master's control. Sophia is too important." Greg whipped his head around to Sophia.

"You're a Ward?" He asked, incredulous.

"Yes." Sophia answered as the other girls answered negatively.

"Shit, I just threatened to kill a Ward. Shit!" Greg fell to silence as he ran over the situation but panic was beginning to seep in again. "What did you think the flaw was, Sophia? And what's your power?"

"They would rather kill us all than let another Heartbreaker go free and have time to entrench and I have an intangible Breaker state that resembles a billowing shadow and is disrupted by electricity."

"Shadow Stalker. Of course you're Shadow Stalker. Fuck me!"

Immeadiately, Sophia pushed up against him, grinding her naked body against him. Well, he hadn't meant for this to happen, but why the fuck not? He let her unbuckle his pants and slide them down. She took hold of his cock and swiftly stroked him to full hardness. She lined up his turgid length with her slit and swiftly guided him in. He moaned as her soft folds encircled him. Hard and fast, she rock against him. He had just cum with Taylor but this was... Wholly different. Amazing. He came again nearly immediately but she didn't stop when the forceful motions became painful against his sensitive member.

"Sophia, stop! Fucking shit. Gonna have to be careful with cussing. Don't want all of you suddenly loosening your bowels. Thanks though. It helped clear my head." An evil little thought entered Greg's mind. "As a reward for being such a good little slut, how about this? Taylor, fuck Sophia until she cums screaming. Sophia, you may speak and scream freely in regards to Taylor fucking you."

"Don't you fucking dare, Hebert! I will fucking end you once we get out of this you fucking— Shit!" Sophia's tirade ended as Taylor pushed her to the ground then knelt beside the fallen Ward. "Fuck! Don't! I'm-Ah!" Sophia cried out as Taylor roughly began to rub Sophia's pussy. Taylor's other primary hand grabbed Sophia's hair and pulled her head back. The Asura's bottom set of hands pulled open her victim's legs and anchored her control by firmly grasping Sophia's thighs while pulling her close with impossible strength. The middle set of hands was free to roam over breast and abdomen, groping and kneading. Sophia cried out in anger as the first finger entered her but quickly turned to quiet squeaks as Taylor worked her towards an orgasm. She tried to scream as she came, but she could only moan as the second, then third fingers began to push into her.

"Please. Don't-Fuck! This isn't you!" Taylor ignored the pleas so she switched tactics. "Greg, make her stop! Ahn! Fuuuuck! They're going to fucking kill you! You're fucking rapi-" Her words cut off as she reached whatever limit the order allowing her to speak considered relevant to the sex.

"You know, this isn't really fair to Taylor." Greg mused. "Taylor, you may speak freely in regards to Sophia and the sex you're having."

"The only reason I didn't drown you in spiders was because I'm a civilized person who, unlike you, doesn't resort to violence for every petty grievance. I'm sorry for not killing all of you. Considering the alternative, it would have been a mercy. I'm going to try and make this quick." Taylor spoke clearly.

"Fuck you too, you bitch!" Sophia screamed back, even as she bucked and writhed against Taylor's many hands. "Fuck you! I'm going to survive this shit and fuck you into the ground you stupid, condescending CUNT!" Sophia's voice hit an octave higher as Taylor twisted her nipples and hit just the right spot in her pussy at the same time.

"You're going to try." Taylor said as her hand grew still.

"Note to self, girl on girl is hotter in real life." Greg told himself. Yes, he was feeling much better about his situation. No, wait, he was still trapped. "Show of hands, who thinks they have a plan that could reasonably get us out of this?"

Only Taylor raised her hand.

"OK, Taylor, what's your plan?"

"Attack." Greg put his face in his palm.

"I probably deserved that. Taylor go more in depth on your plan of attack."

"There are a lot of capes here. I can provide a screening swarm while Sophia lines up priority targets for you to suborn with your master effect."

"Simple, but effective. Sophia, what should I be looking out for here?"

"Vista can isolate you but can't work around living things, Glory Hole is a fuck strong brute and flies really damn fast, New Wave has a lot of lasers, Armsmaster has an ass ton of tricks up his polearm, Clock is trickier than he looks but less effective than you'd think and the PRT is fucking pissed as shit." Sophia curtly offered.

Greg nodded. He could do this. "Alright, we're following Taylor's plan. Sophia, Taylor, bring me as many capes as you can, focus on the women." Sophia turned into a shadowy, black mist and exited the school through the wall as Taylor called an absolutely terrifying number bugs down on the waiting heroes and walked out the front doors. Greg watched in awe as Taylor floated out of view, surrounded in a corona of fire. Immediately, explosions began to to rock the school. After what felt like an eternity of loud and bright, a figure in white and gold was throw bodily through the glass doors.

Elation and hope spiked in Greg as he recognized Glory Girl and he struck out with his power. For the first time, Greg saw the full transformation his power wrought. Like a person stepping out of a mirror, Glory Girl seamlessly split into two identical girls. Twins. He'd made twin blonde bombshells. He had the greatest power in the history of Parahumanity.

"Glory girls, stop!" He commanded. "Glory girls, go help Taylor and Sophia incapacitate and bring me capes!"

They rushed out without a word to follow his commands. Holy shit! That meant he was winning, right? His plan was working? He just had to wait because every cape they lost, he gain! He waited for the next cape his slaves would bring him. Would it be Vista? Or maybe Photon Milf? Greg's mind swirled with possibilities as he waited, and waited and waited some more. Wow, this was taking a long time. Despite the explosions still sounding, he was kind of getting bored.

Which was of course, the very thought which goaded the universe into making him less bored. Sophia entered the entrance hall dragging a girl in a cloak covered in Norse runes. Rune. A member of Empire 88. A villain group. Sophia dragged the unconscious villain to Greg, dropped her then turned around to leave.

"Sophia, wait!" Greg called after her. "Why was a villain here?"

Sophia spoke with a near giggle. "Between Hebert wrecking the entire Protectorate's collective shit and two Glory Girls apparently kidnapping Panacea from the hospital, they declared an S-class threat. Last I saw, Taylor was tossing Lung around with those tiny, exploding suns of hers."

The Glory Girls chose that moment to fly back in holding Panacea, the world's greatest healer, in other words, the most untouchable person on Earth, wrapped up in a hospital sheet. Numbly, Greg fired his power at both the captives and dully noted that they grew mouse like features.

Then the explosions stopped. A moment later, scalding water flooded the hall. Where the water touched his slaves, their transformations melted away and they all turned towards him. Eyes wide, Greg tried to raise his hands to transform them back but he found his hands held firmly by a furious, flying blonde. Then she pulled.


* * *

AN: I think it was the first thing I wrote on this site, but I wrote a little aftermath scene where Armsmaster gives a little damage report to Piggot after Greg "Morphos" Veder goes on a rampage. The transformed states revert with hot water and come back with cold water so all these girls are going to be dealing with Greg's assholery for the rest of their lives. As for the battle you can't see, Vista redirected the spray of a broken fire hydrant at Taylor, the water heated up from Taylor's Flame Aura and ended her transformation. From that, they deduced that hot water solves their problems and Lung heats the water and Vista directs it. In other news, Amy will occasionally find excuses to throw water on Vicky. For completely innocent reasons. Totally.

Dauntless' Ring

(Автор: piandpie)

Dauntless stared at the ring in his hand. In the background the other members of the Protectorate ENE were discussing some new group they had encountered on their patrols, Underdogs or something. He wasn't really listening.

His focus was on his latest empowered object. He had begun charging it a while ago, but hadn't tested it yet. However, if he had to describe the feeling the ring gave him by simply touching his skin, the word "Normal" probably was the most fitting, and it gave him a distinct idea of what the ring would do once he slipped it onto his fingers.

Now or never, he thought to himself and put the ring on. Dauntless felt a little pulse going out from the object, but no other immediate effects were apparent. Taking a deep breath, he decided to test his theory and stood up with a sudden motion.

His chair's legs scraped over the floor, making a loud noise, but no head turned, the others still seemingly engaged in discussion. A grin already forming on his face cleared his throat noisily and punched Velocity, who was sitting beside him, lightly on his arm.

Still no reaction, except for Armsmaster raising his voice to be heard over all the noise Dauntless had been making. His ring's abilities now sufficiently proven, he made his way over to Miss Militia. She was currently standing up and heatedly discussing power levels with Armsmaster, which made it easy for Dauntless to walk up to her and pull her pants down.

He had always admired the heroine, not only because of her unwavering will to do good, but also because of her body, which was incredibly fit after years of training and patrols., so why not act on hi fantasies when he had the possibility? Watching her ass make hypnotic movements as she gestured, he took of his own pants and freed his straining dick from his boxers.

It was rock hard, and Dauntless hastily slid down Miss Militias panties. He waited until she took a pause to breath and stuck it in her, groaning from the sensations. When she continued her speech, it was interrupted by her own moans again and again, but no one cared, least of all Dauntless, who had remembered he had another idea he wanted to try out.

Still steadily fucking her, he bent over and whispered in her ear: "Take off your bra." She complied immediately, although her actions were made difficult by Dauntless thrusting into her as hard as he could, but after she had slid up her shirt and her breasts hung free, he felt a new wave of arousal surge through, grabbing onto the orbs and squeezing them, which caused Miss Militias speech to dissolve into incoherence shortly, before she regained her senses and started arguing again, moaning all the while.

He'd had sex before, but the fact that the entire Protectorate was watching him fucking Miss Militia over the meeting table made for an entirely new, exciting experience. As if to underline that statement, he came in her with a final cry, at the same time as the woman in front of him, judging from the similar cry she gave off.The fact that this was morally questionable didn't occur to him. After all, this was what he wanted, and Miss Militia hadn't been complaining either, so there obviously wasn't anything wrong with it

He regained his senses just in time to see Assault and Battery silently leave the room. He opted to follow them, pulling out of Miss Militia as she reinserted herself into the conversation.

After following the pair, it soon became clear that they had been called into Director Piggot's office. He entered with them and closed the door as the two took seats in front of the overweight director. She mustered the two of them silently and Dauntless stood around awkwardly for a moment, until he, still feeling euphoric from his previous experiment, made his decision.

"Assault, I didn't think I would have to tell you why taunting the unknown villain team isn't a good idea, but you somehow exceeded my expectations!" , she started her rant, but Dauntless was already tuning her out and instead focusing on getting Battery to stand up by prodding and pulling. He sat down himself and instructed her to get naked.

While the two of them undressed, Piggot finished dressing down Assault and turned to address Battery instead. "I'm disappointed in you as well. I had hoped that you of all people could keep your husband in check!"

The heroine opened her mouth to protest, but only managed a surprised squeak as Dauntless pulled her back onto his lap. His member was already hard again at the prospect of having sex with Battery right next to her husband and in front of the Director, and with gravity on his side, he sank to the hilt into her folds.

He didn't even need to give her a command; she started bouncing up and down all on her own, driving his length in and out of her in a rhythm that had them both making noises of pleasure. Dauntless himself was not idle, either. Each of the woman's movements was met by his own avid thrusts.

He put his arms around her to knead the breasts that had been bouncing wildly in front of the Directors nose, who had leaned closer towards Battery to make herself heard. Assault however seemed to find the view outside the window to be more interesting, just turning his head to give his wife a grin from time to time, when Piggot said something he found amusing.

Having finished her rant, the Director was now watching the two of them expectantly. While Assault quickly gave his apology, adopting a serious tone for once, while the woman on Dauntless' lap had o force the words out between her moans: "I'm-ah-sorry, Dir-uh-ector Piggot, I'll make-oh god— sure this doesn't happen agaaa....". Her speech dissolved into incoherence as she started cumming, slamming herself down one final time, which in turn prompted Dauntless to shoot his hot seed deep into her.

Piggot seemed to have dismissed the two, because they both stood up, Assault waiting patiently while his wife put her clothes back on. He then waved at Dauntless and with a "See you tomorrow", they both left the room followed by Dauntless himself, who closed the door with a satisfied grin.


* * *

He was so stupid! Shortly after sliding the ring off his hand that evening, he had realized that he could have just risked making these two women pregnant. After watching them for a few months and only using the ring carefully, he was now pretty sure that he either was extremely lucky, or that the ring's abilities prevented it from happening.

Still, the ring had lost a lot of its appeal to him, and he didn't really want to use it anymore.

An idea came to him as he walked past the Ward's room. The kid sitting there, Kid Win if he remembered correctly, seemed to look rather lonely

He took the ring out of his pocket and made his way over to the boy...

Alice

(Автор: vyor)

I place the blame for this snippet entirely on Mr_John.

This is a bit of an AU, in that Taylor has a younger sister named Alice and Amy is on much better terms with Taylor(and is kinky).


* * *

Spoiler: Warnings

Contains: Incest, Lesbians, Bug Play, Biosuits, and Sexual Ownership(Consensual)


* * *

Alice, heading home after picking up some things from the store noticed something, the bugs were quiet, not an unusual occurrence in the neighborhood but one that unnerved her nonetheless. Though she wouldn't mind meeting Skitter... on a bright sunny day in the middle of a crowded street. Being that it was none of those things, she started moving much faster.

She slumped against the door in relief when she finally made it inside, not noticing the smugly smiling figure sitting a short distance away.

"You know that she wouldn't hurt you even if you ran right into her right?" Alice started before she realized it was only Lisa being Lisa.

"I still don't know how you do that. Wait, where's Taylor? You're usually with her, but I don't see..." She trailed off, visibly confused.

She smiled and started walking towards the basement, "Come on." Deciding to follow her sister's strange friend while thinking that the day was becoming very surreal.

The door opened to the sound of insects. Thousands of them. Alice felt the blood drain from her face and stepped back only to find Lisa standing there.

She was swiftly pulled into a hug, "You remember what I said earlier, about her not hurting you? I meant it, she won't hurt you, you have nothing to fear, and if you go down there with me, you will not regret it. In fact, I think you'll enjoy it very much."

Lisa was confident, way, way too confident, but she did want to meet Skitter. There was something else in her voice, that she couldn't quite place. Still, if Lisa said it was safe then it probably was, she hadn't been wrong before.

Stepping forwards slowly, Lisa's hand on her shoulder, she descended into what sounded like a jungle. There were enough bugs to make it sound like leaves were being blown in the wind and there were more noises from them than she cared to count.

Upon reaching the bottom she saw them, too many to count they coated the walls and large swaths of the floor, and in the middle Skitter, wide yellow lenses evaluating Alice like a hawk might a tasty mouse. She whimpered even as an electric thrill shot up her spine.

"Mmm, I thought so." Her head shot up, Lisa speaking into her ear, "I did so wonder why there were so many images of her on your phone, you you blushed when asked. I had my suspicions, but that clinches it." Her mouth went dry, he couldn't possibly know... but of course she knew. She always knew.

"I know about how you feel about Taylor too." Her blood went cold and she began to panic before a kiss landed on her neck, "She knows too, and she was oh so very flattered. So. Very. Flattered." She hadn't noticed when Lisa's hand went under her shirt, but she did notice when it started tracing her stomach.

'But Lisa's Taylor's girlfriend. Why is she, what does she...'

"Taylor knows full well what I'm doing to you right now. In fact, you might say she has a first person view of it all. Meet Skitter, your sister. Someone you've lusted after. I told you, you are going to enjoy this, just relax and submit to us. Don't worry, we'll take very good care of you, after all, we wouldn't want to break our toy, would we?" Alice's mind raced at a hundred thoughts a second.

'Toy? Submit? Why do I want this? Should I submit? Why why why?'

"Oh, of course, you don't know if it's worth it yet. How about we give you a taste? Then you can decide." 'Oh, so that's what was in her voice, desire.'

Heart in her throat, she spoke, "If," she swallowed, "if I say no, will she be mad at me?" She could practically feel the smile Lisa had.

Skitter, Taylor, moved forward at the direction of an unseen to Alice signal from Lisa. Reaching her and cupping her delicate face, Taylor removed her mask and kissed Alice, tongue invading the smaller sibling's mouth other hand rubbing at her crotch through the jeans she was wearing.

Alice moaned and went limp, supported only by the two girls in the room with her. "I think that was your answer, so, do you want to give it a shot?"

She couldn't nod fast enough, or much at all with Taylor's mouth in the way, still, Lisa got the message. "Great! Now, let's get you out of these things."

She had thought the kiss would break at that point, she was wrong. The cold knife cutting through everything like so much wet paper. Her bra and panties were discarded with everything else.

Skitter pulled back then, gasping for breath. Looking over Alice with an almost feral glee and beginning to strip herself. Alice could do nothing but watch as her sister began to get naked for her, even as Lisa began playing with her wet folds, drawing another whimpering moan from her.

"You really are a naughty girl aren't you? I like it." The fingers picked up their pace, making her shake and twitch. She finally came when Taylor stood full up, completely naked, and licking her lips in anticipation.

Her hips bucking and eyes rolling into the back of her head, he was gently lowered to the floor. Taylor was there in an instant, licking the area around her crotch for her nectar before licking the source once and sitting back.

Lisa was not idle during that either, kissing and sucking on Alice's breasts, larger than Taylor's much to her eternal frustration, helping Taylor push her to the edge again.

"I think it's time for us to show why I had Taylor bring all these bugs for you, hmm?" Alice was too aroused to respond bar moans, so Taylor took initiative.

The beetles, spiders, and other bugs swarmed to Alice, who began to panic before they began playing on her pussy, her eyes widened as worms made their way to her entrance, let inside by beetles opening her up.

She felt them, inside her, filling her up, writhing. Touching and rubbing every stop inside her, there was no pattern and that simply made it more intense. Nothing was safe from the bug's assault, her clip and nipples bitten and pulled on, only lightly painful, and her skin being carressed by a million bugs.

She tried to thrash, pleasure overriding her control and found that she was completely bound, a distant part of her realized it was spidersilk but the rest didn't care.

She tried to scream, but she found her face pressed into another girl's snatch, she couldn't tell who it belonged too, but savored it anyway. Lisa showed her appreciation by moaning for Alice.

Taylor didn't stay idle, instead kissing Lisa deeply.

Lisa and Skitter went back and forth like that for a time, swapping places when the other came, Alice continually pleasured by bugs, before it stopped.

Alice was twitching steadily, but she knew from Lisa's smug smile that they had at least one more thing to show her.

"Well, you've seen the bugs, and I have to assume you know how we can pleasure you with toys and what we have on us, but this last thing is only going to be showed to you if you accept our offer. It will be your mark of ownership. Very few will see it of course, but those who do will know you belong to Skitter. It comes with some great perks though." Alice barely hesitated.

"I accept, I'm yours." She saw Lisa shiver at that and thought she heard a quiet moan from Taylor. It made her heart beat even harder.

An amorphous blob came towards her, surrounding her before converging, she felt it shift and morph into a skin color suit, covering all but her head in itself.

Pain and pleasure blinded her for a moment as it integrated itself into her system. Taylor moaned and tentacles, which had been idle before hand, began massaging Alice, pleasure exploding into her mind as she felt the suit use her for it's own pleasure. She felt each tentacle as though they were her's, which made it all the more agonizingly pleasurable when they violated her holes.

She couldn't scream, just lie there with her back arched and eyes wide. Taylor had no such issue as she writhed and moaned, occasionally jerking when had an orgasm.

Lisa began whispering into the poor girl's ear, taking joy in every moment, "You like it? It was made by Panacea, she was surprised at our request, but when she heard who it was for, she could hardly say no. After all, she want's her sister just as much as you do. The suit is based off of bugs to allow Taylor to control it, that this allows her to feel it as you're violated is a happy accident. You feeling it is completely intentional. This suit will allow Taylor to control you, to guide you. To make you do whatever she desires. Don't worry though, we take good care of our toys..."

Goddamned Perverted Idiot

(Автор: Scarlet4)

So continuation of my Sophia is a Goddamned Perverted Idiot snips. And read Lung's voice in Lord Genome's btw.


* * *

"Oh Kaiser you poor creature" says Lung with a rumbling laugh as he lands behind Max and... wraps his arms around his chest. Kayden slows her circling unable to look away

Max bellows in rage and summons sword after sword to strike Lung. All of them shattering on his scales. Lung chuckles and pulls himself tighter to Max, Max jolts in shock as he feels the enormous bulge growing against him, bending over slightly as Lung lowers his waist and presses down to be in line with Max... a clawed hand works it's way down the front of Max's armour hooking in just above the crotch and beginning to peel away the metal. Lung chuckles and 'whispers' loud enough for Kayden to hear him from the air "Oh my emperor how you fret and worry but it is as your wolf says, the strong take what they desire, what they deserve. And I am the stronger here" he punctuates this point by visibly grinding into Max who responds by summoning more swords and screaming in incoherent rage. Lung laughs and looks up, right at her, she notices now she has stopped flying entirely to stare. Lung smiles and in a calm and conversational tone like he was doing nothing more than discussing the weather asks her "Purity I see I've got your attention this is just like the scene on page 38 is it not?"

Max notices her and screams eyes wild and panicked voice desperate and terrified "TAKE THE SHOT TAKE THE SHOT TAKE THE SHOT!"

And Kayden wakes up. Hot. Sweaty. Disappointed. She wants to think it's in herself, in how slow she was to react in the last fight she had with the Empire (she couldn't face Max after nearly letting that happen) before going independent .

But she knows why she's really disappointed. Why Lung was laughing the entire time her attacks made him retreat.

She looks to her blinking phone and sees messages from E88 members asking if she has any idea where Rune is and demanding she turn her around and send her back if she has her. Aster is crying. She sighs and gets up. This will be a long day.


* * *

Amy blinks away the sleep in her eye, wincing as she makes the mistake of moving her hips. It feels like she shoved a belt sander up there. Also there's a draft. She looks down and realises that she is pantsless, spead legged and has thrown her sheets off. She tries to pull her sheet back over her for some modesty but fumbles. She glances over and sees her hand has stuck in a claw like shape. From over use. And is crusted with... ah. Now she remembers. The doujin. 120 pages. 98 of them being sex scenes between "Ami and Elizabeth Dillon". She'd fought not to download it but caved in less than 24 hours. She wasn't regretting it though.

She hadn't been this relaxed in years. Her issues seemed so much more manageable now. She snaked her clawed hand down and rubbed a little despite herself. This was the best day in years.

A slam. Victoria burst in "Hey Ames you seen my" a cheeky grin crossed her face "oh man hahaha Amy sorry next time I'll kno" the grin became shock and horror as she looked at something behind Amy. Amy turned.

Ah.

She'd left the laptop on.

To the doujin.

It was the futanari scene where Ami got spitroasted by Elizabeth and their cousin Gem.

Crap. Here comes the panic

...why was she getting hornier as well?

Fantasy Worm: Emma & Taylor (Proof-of-Concept)

(Автор: Angush)

I looked again at the letter in my hand as I walked. The hastily scratched map with messy arrows leading from my house on the docks to some place in the outer city, using a roundabout route that cut through abandoned, overgrown gardens and alleys and even between Brockton's inner walls, which were barely big enough for me to squeeze through now.

Years ago we'd play hide and seek in the empty areas of the city with the other docks children. But we'd stopped a long time since. When she'd moved to the inner city.

Emma was no cartographer, but I knew the outer city well enough to follow her scratchings. It was her words that I looked at now, her elegant but obviously hurried handwriting telling me she wanted to meet.

I'd gotten her note three days ago, and deciding to go had been difficult. More so than I'd expected. A part of my mind was telling me even now not to go, that it was a trap. That she'd have brought a bunch of her new noble friends, and they'd all push me down and ridicule me for believing in her.

But I didn't listen to that part. Because I did believe in her. I loved her like no-one else, and I knew she'd loved me too, at least once. She had to have a reason for shunning me. She just had to! And I needed to know what that reason was.

So, I hurried down the streets, feeling the hot cobblestones even through the soles of my shoes, the worn pavings heated by the afternoon sun. I turned a corner and squeezed through an alley between two shacks exploding with screaming children and wives and popped out the other side. A run-down inn sat across from me, the very planks that formed the walls cracked and bent, the rooftop shingles in a similar state of disrepair.

Not the kind of place Emma had frequented, even before she'd changed. And certainly not anywhere I'd expect a bunch of prissy noble girls to lay in waiting, especially with no guarantee I'd be showing up.

That didn't stop me from hesitating outside the door.

I dropped my head against the wood and sighed, closing my eyes. I hadn't seen Emma in months. And months before that. She'd been like a completely different person that day at the markets, when I'd bumped into her and her father's entourage while fetching the witch doctor, useless bastard that he was, for my da.

No. She had been a different person. That hadn't been my Emma.

My Emma was waiting inside.

I hope.

I pushed past the door, almost managing to ignore the way my hands trembled. The inside was dank and musty, lit only by candles in holders on the walls and tables, all dancing to some unknowable tune. Wind whistled softly through the cracks in the walls.

The only occupants were a fat man who'd already drunk himself into a stupor by the fireplace, a tall dark-skinned man polishing cups behind the bar, and a young woman stood attentively by the stairs, a sword at her hip and a cloth wrapped about her face. She was watching me with keen eyes.

I looked down at Emma's half-crumpled letter. Seeing exactly what she wanted me to do, I swallowed past the lump in my throat and strode over to the swordswoman. She didn't stop staring at me as I approached.

I stopped in front of her. "Um..."

The woman said nothing, just looking at me.

I glanced down at the letter again, then up at the woman. "I've a letter for... Mistress Valerie."

The woman let out a slow breath, drawing a pocket watch from her jacket and glancing at it. "You were supposed to be here eight minutes ago," she said, looking back up at me.

I flushed. "I got held up."

"Hmm," the woman said. "Miss Valerie is in the last room on the left. Knock twice, then once, then twice again. You've only got an hour — or fifty-two minutes, now. You won't be disturbed. Use it wisely."

I nodded, glancing at the stairs. "Um — "

"Just go," she said, pushing me forward. "She's waiting."

I caught myself on the railing, and glanced back at the woman for a moment. Then I started up the stairs, coming to a stop outside the door at the end of the hall.

I took a deep breath, then knocked as instructed. I trusted her.

The door opened a crack, enough to see a sliver of fiery red hair and big blue eyes peeking through. Then it closed again. I heard the sound of metal against metal as she undid the chain, then the door was flung open once more, and Emma pulled me through, locking it behind us.

I watched her closely. She was just as beautiful as I remembered. More so, actually. I hadn't thought that possible, but it was true. The curves of her body were obscured by her rough-shod clothing — which she had to have borrowed that from a servant or something; she'd been wearing silk the last time I'd seen her. Of course, remembering that put a damper on my elation at seeing her again, but only a little. Still, despite her rather bulky clothes, I could tell she'd grown. And it hurt that I hadn't been there to experience it first-hand.

She clicked the chain into place, then turned to me, meeting my eyes. For a long minute we just stood there, watching each other. Then she threw herself into my arms and kissed me deeply, her tongue sliding between my lips. My questions — about the woman downstairs, the fake name, why we had to meet at this rundown inn — all melted on her lips. I fell against the wall, bringing my arms up to her hips as I kissed back, moaning into her mouth as she matched my fervour.

I wasn't sure how long our tongues danced, how long our hands caressed each other's bodies in that old, familiar way, bringing back memories of the countless evenings we'd spent together while my da worked the docks, always making a mess of my bed — and sometimes our clothes. But it didn't matter. This was good. And it felt good, too. Like a return to the good old days; to the intimacy I'd sorely missed ever since she'd left.

I gasped as her hand slipped beneath the waist of my trousers, sliding down my thigh. Then, remembering what I'd come here for, I grabbed her hand and pulled away from the kiss. Emma whined breathlessly against my throat, then laid her head against my collarbone. Our chests pressed together as we panted in sync, struggling to regain our breath.

"Emma?" I said, breaking the silence, though I wasn't really sure what to say. She didn't reply. "I-It's good to see you, too. I, uh... how have you been?"

She looked up at me, beautiful blue eyes locking with mine. Her lip trembled, and her eyes watered with tears, and then she buried her face in my chest and cried.

"Wha — uh — " I shifted my hands and picked her up, holding her against me, then shuffled over to the dingy bed in the corner and sat down. She curled her legs up against her chest and clutched at my tunic as her body was wracked with sobs.

My hesitation vanished. I ran gentle, soothing lines down her back with my hands, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear. I didn't know what else to do, but it seemed to work well enough. After a minute or two, she calmed down, reduced to sniffling every so often, but still I stayed quiet. If she needed time, I'd give it to her. I didn't have much else to offer.

"I'm sorry," Emma said, mumbling against my chest. She curled up a little more, pressing against me.

I ran a hand through her hair. "I — It's okay."

She shook her head weakly. "No it's not. I never should have said... y-you know."

"Did you mean it?"

Emma jerked her head up to look at me. Her eyes were red and wet. "No! Of course not!"

"Then it's okay," I said, cupping her chin and using my thumb to wipe away the wet streaks on her cheeks. "I forgive you. Really, I do."

Emma's lip trembled again. "How? I — I insulted your m-mother. I u-used this against you! I called you — I c-called you — "

The reminder made me twitch, but I pushed the pain down. "You didn't mean it." I leaned down and kissed her gently. "So it's okay."

She ducked her head and sniffled, pressing against my chest again. "I don't deserve you," she whispered.

I continued stroking her hair. She'd always liked that. "That's not true," I said.

"Yes it is." Her voice was bitter, now. "I'm weak. I'm pathetic."

I sighed into her hair, then pulled back and tilted her head up so I could see her face. "What happened?"

Emma bit her lip. Her eyes glanced around, seeking a distraction in my clothes and finding nothing, before finally darting back to meet mine. "Father," she mumbled, fiddling with a loose bit of string on my shirt. "W-when we moved into the inner city, he... he's more strict, now. I think it's because of Lord Matthews. But he — " Sniffling, she looked away and curled into my chest once more. "He said I had to stop seeing you."

She paused, breathing deeply against me. I traced slow, curly circles against her back, but made no move to speak. I didn't want to say the wrong thing.

Finally, she continued. "I tried to come anyway," she said, voice wavering. "I really, really did, nearly a dozen times. But the servants, they caught me every time, and Father got angry with me. He... hit me. He's never done that before. Then he locked me in my room, said I couldn't leave until I did what he told me. Until I agreed to not see you. He said you... he said you were s-sullying me. Trying to turn me against him and the Empire. Trying to corrupt me. H-he said you weren't human."

Emma looked up at me, clutching at my collar, her beautiful eyes wet and shimmering. I squeezed her tighter. "I c-couldn't go against him. I'm too weak. He frightens me. And t-that day at the market, Lord Matthews was with us. He's a purist, one of the Emperor's dogs. When you came up to us and tried to talk to me, he got angry. I think he would have had you arrested or beaten or... But I remembered what Father said, so I... I used that."

She was actually crying now, tears making dirty tracks down her freckled cheeks. "I-I'm so, so sorry, Taylor. I just — I had to make you leave! Before you got hurt. I couldn't — I couldn't watch that. But I... I shouldn't have said it anyway."

She fell silent, and I started rocking us back and forth slowly and softly, breathing into her hair.

"It's okay," I said after a minute, pulling her closer. "You're here now. We're together. So everything's okay."

Emma shifted. "He's making me get married."

I froze. "What?"

"Father," she said. "He... he's sold me. For the good of the family, he says. I'm betrothed to Lord Demoux, now; one of Lord Matthews' coterie. He's forty-three years old." She gave a bitter laugh. "His firstborn is older than I am. And I h-heard his previous wife had an affair so — he had her executed." Her body trembled in my arms. When she continued, her voice was brittle, almost inaudible. "The wedding is in six months, when I'm of age. I'm — They're going to make me have his babies. Probably ten of them. Then I'll be old and ugly and I'll knock over a vase one day and I'll be executed too and I-I-I'm never going to see you again."

I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her back, staring into her wide eyes. "That's not true!" I said. "We promised, remember? We'd always be together. So — s-so you're not marrying some Imperial twit, okay? We're going to get you out of this. And we'll figure it out together. We — we can talk to your father or — or — or something, and then you'll be okay, and we can — and we can be together again." I paused, swallowing. "I won't let this happen to you, okay? I promise. No matter what."

Emma stared at me in awe, her eyes shimmering once more. She opened her mouth to reply, but I stopped her with a kiss. I closed my eyes and brought a hand up to cup her cheek as she reciprocated, and together we slid down to the bed. My body pressed against hers as I lay atop her, our legs interlocking, my other hand reaching down to her hip.

I pulled back for a moment's breath, staring into her eyes. "I won't let that happen," I said, then dove forward to resume. She moaned into me as her hands fumbled at the strings of my shirt. I guided her fingers to the knots, which she ripped open while I loosened her own clothes. We were forced to break apart again when she pulled my top over my head, immediately discarding it and bringing her hands around to knead my breasts roughly.

I growled, deep within my throat, then pulled her shirt off, too. "You're mine," I said, eliciting an adorable squeak from Emma. She smiled up at me, and then we were kissing once more, her arms winding around my neck as I worked at her bottoms. Soon enough, they were on the floor with our other clothes, and I slipped my bottoms off too. Our underwear followed quickly — she wore regular cotton, not those lacy silk ones she'd once gotten me as a gift. I was mildly disappointed.

But then we were unclad, nothing stopping our bodies from touching. Her skin like a bonfire against mine, an inferno. Her smell, her sweat, almost enough to make me wet on its own. The sounds of her halting, gasping breaths, the little yelping noises of pleasure she made when I tweaked a nipple or bumped her nethers with my knee, accompanied by the wet smacks of our kisses, exciting us both in a million different ways.

Her taste, just as I remembered. Exactly as I'd missed.

"Nobody else's," I panted, pulling back and peppering her jaw with feather kisses. I slid a hand down to her nethers, slipping a finger inside and massaging the way I knew she liked. As I'd expected, she gasped, arching her back and using her arms around my neck to pull her body up and press it against mine, an exchange of sweat and heat. I grinned and kissed my way down her neck, receiving a hundred tiny shudders as I went. "Nobody can do this to you but me."

I paused to circle her nipple with my tongue, a teasing twist that made her whimper. I squeezed my own legs together, a futile attempt to alleviate the burning in my loins. I was almost desperate to have her mouth on my body, her fingers inside me. But I wasn't done yet. I'd waited months for this to happen again; I could manage another few minutes.

"You're mine," I repeated, punctuating the words with a squeeze of her breast and a nipping suck of her nipple. She yelped, and I glanced up at her. "Understand?"

Emma pulled her hands away from her face and looked down at me, our eyes meeting. Her breathing came hard and heavy, my head rising and falling as her chest did the same. "I un — " I popped a second finger inside her and stretched — but only once, before stopping. "Aaghhh! Ohh, pleasepleaseplease!"

I couldn't stop from grinning as I bit her nipple again. She whimpered. "Understand?"

"Yes!" she said, bucking against me. "Yes yes yes, I understand!"

I rewarded her with a few thrusts of my hand, making her writhe beneath me, her flesh jiggling. I moved down a bit, to her stomach, biting one of her folds hard enough to leave a mark, just beside her belly button. Harder than usual, but I was starved. Of course, she didn't seem to mind. Not with the way she hissed and clenched her legs together around my arm, her hands curling in the bed sheets.

"I'm the only one that gets to do this?" I prodded.

She groaned, shaking in frustration as I trailed further down her body. "Yes! You're the only one, now please — "

I pulled my fingers out and replaced them with my mouth, spreading her wide with a single movement and burying my tongue in her sex. The taste dominated my senses, sending memories flashing into my mind. She was so sweet, yet so bitter. An appropriate taste.

Juices gushed into my mouth as she thrashed beneath my grip, hissing and gasping and groaning before finally exploding over my face with a shriek, only half-muffled by the way she buried her face in the sheets. Her legs locked around my head and she arched her back, almost lifting me to my knees. I struggled to keep attached, to take in all that I could; I was a little out of practice, but I couldn't bear the thought of wasting her. Any of her.

Finally, she subsided, and we fell back down to the bed together. I caught myself, and crawled up her twitching, sweat-slicked body, licking a path clear and enjoying that taste, too. She giggled breathlessly when I reached her ribs — she'd always been ticklish there — and wrapped her arms around my neck, smiling dreamily up at me with lidded eyes. I caressed her cheek and leaned in for a kiss. She returned it with surprising vigour.

We broke apart, with a whine from Emma. Unable to kiss me any longer, she turned and took my hand in hers, giving it her attentions instead. I dropped to the bed beside her, watching and smiling. She met my eyes, and we held the gaze for a long minute.

"I love you," I said, making her pause. "You know that, right? You — you'll always have a place beside me. I — I mean, maybe I never said that as much as I should have, but... it's true."

Emma swallowed, staring at me. "I love you, too, Taylor," she said, voice soft. A moment later, she gave a devilish grin, popped my fingers in her mouth, and started suckling and running her tongue along the sides, making exaggerated moans all the while. I realised those were the fingers I'd had inside her and blushed, even as my other hand crept down between my own legs and felt at the wetness there.

"But I haven't done you yet," Emma said in a husky tone, popping my fingers out of her mouth again and rolling on top of me.

"Wai — " I cut off with a high-pitched moan I couldn't hold back as Emma ran down my body and planted her mouth on my own sex, keeping my legs spread wide. Her tongue did things to me I couldn't quantify, each and every movement making me jerk and twitch and whine or squeal. I loved it. And I needed it badly. I reached down to grab her head, pulling her further into me while bucking against her, gasping her name over and over and over.

As far along as I already was, I didn't need much of her ministrations before replicating her earlier orgasm. The difference was, she didn't let up. Once the trembles subsided, she pulled back and slid her fingers in me, twisting and curling and thrusting in a way that seemed mad but was most definitely calculated. It was overwhelmingly glorious, despite — or perhaps because of — the almost-pain from my current sensitivity.

I tried to pull away, but she held me in place. With another grin, she lifted my hips up and sat between my legs. Our nethers touched. Then she began grinding against me, our wetnesses mixing and coating each other's groins, spreading heat between us, our nubs bumping and scraping in ways that left me thrashing against her even as I sat up and bucked in rhythm, adding my own weight to the grind.

Wet, fleshy slaps and smacks and schlicks filled the air, twisting and dancing with our incessant moans and nonsense exclamations of pleasure. Our fingers dug rivers into each other's skin as we held each other tight, seeking something I couldn't explain. I reached orgasm first, but she wasn't far behind, whimpering my name into my neck as my voice escaped me.

Together we collapsed, her splayed out atop my body, sweat cooling on our empty skin. We took the time to regain our breath, running slow, careless hands across each other's bodies. Emma sighed contently, snuggling into her usual spot against my side, laying her head against my neck. I prodded at her ribs and she giggled. Her hand sought out mine and intertwined our fingers. I smiled lazily. She'd always liked holding hands.

Minutes passed in blissful quiet, the both of us simply enjoying each other in the purest sense. But it couldn't last forever. The haze of sex lifted from my mind, and my fears and worries creeped back in. I squeezed Emma's shoulder, more to comfort myself than her.

"Run away with me."

She looked up at me. "What?"

I swallowed my hesitation. "I'm serious," I said. "Run away with me. We can barter for seats on a trader's cart or steal a horse or just walk. It doesn't matter, as long as we get away from this city."

Her eyes shimmered. "We can't."

"Why not?"

"A hundred reasons," she said bitterly. "What about your father? Isn't he still sick?"

"He's not — No," I said, holding back the sadness. "He died a month ago."

"Oh." Emma kissed my jaw gently. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you." I twirled a strand of her hair around my finger. "But he... I don't have any reason to stay here anymore, Emma. No obligations, no nothing. We can throw all this shit away and leave, just the two of us."

Emma shook her head against me. "I want to, Taylor, I really, really do. But I can't. What happens if I leave? What happens to my sisters? Father would make one of them marry Lord Demoux, instead of me. Or someone worse. What if he makes Vanessa do it? Or Anne? She never learned to control her temper. She'd get herself killed." She curled into herself. She felt so small. But her voice did not waver when she said: "I can't let that happen."

"You don't think your father would marry them off anyway?" I said. "It's just a matter of time. It doesn't matter whether you're there or not. You can't stop him. You have to worry about yourself first."

She was quiet for a long time. I started to worry I'd seriously upset her. Then, "How?" she said, voice barely a whisper. "Where would we go? How would we survive? We'd need money. I can't steal any from Father. I don't want to go back there."

"You don't have to. We can get work somewhere. I ."

"Work? What could I do? All I have is my body." She laughed, though it sounded like a sob. "Though I could always sell that."

"No! Never. And you're wrong, Emma. You're so much more than your body." I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at her. "We could go anywhere, do anything! It doesn't matter, so long as we're together. We could get work on a cargo ship and explore across the sea. You could scribe for the shipmaster, and I could scrub the decks. Or we could hitch a ride south. There's farmland for miles down there. I'm sure one of those farms or towns could use a pair of helpers. We could milk cows together. Then maybe one day we could start a farm of our own. Take in a few orphans and sell potatoes at the market every winter."

She sniffled. "That sounds nice."

"I know. And there's no reason we can't have that. We just have to leave."

She squeezed my hand. I rubbed my thumb across her fingers and squeezed back. "What if we get caught?" she said. "Father would try to find me."

"The world's a big place. He can't mobilise the Imperial Guard to find us. And we can colour our hair and paint our skin, if we really need to. They won't find us, and they'll give up after a month anyway."

She went quiet again. I hugged her tight.

"So?" I said, hoping against hope. "Will you do it? Will you run away with me?"

She took a deep breath. "I — "

Someone knocked on the door. "Miss Valerie?" a woman's voice whispered. The swordswoman. Emma sat up. "We have company."

The Dating Sim

(Автор: Angush)

Emma Barnes

My feet carried me down the hall as I hurried in the direction of my chemistry class, my bag clutched against my chest. The halls were empty. Not surprising, given class had started five minutes ago. But the rules of the game meant I was never on time.

I heard footsteps echoing down a perpendicular hallway, moving toward me. I would have sighed if I'd had the time. It was just so predictable.

Just as I turned the corner, I bumped into someone. Or rather, she bumped into me. My arms wheeled as we both toppled, the end result being — of course — the contents of my bag spilled across the floor and me sat atop her face, my skirt ridden far enough up my belly that my panties were on full display. Her face was practically buried in my crotch. And as if that wasn't bad enough, both of her hands were cupping my butt, with one finger knuckle-deep in my asshole. How does that even happen?

I took small consolation in the fact that nobody else was around, and my panties hadn't gotten shoved to the side again, so I wasn't flashing her everything. Not like when she'd tripped and fell on me at the front gate. Or when we'd collided on the stairs. Or the accident in phys-ed that had left us sixty-nineing in the middle of the sports track. Or... well, you get the idea. Today's incident could've be worse. But it was still humiliating as shit. I mean, a finger in my ass? Come on!

I wouldn't have had this problem if I'd been wearing pants. I didn't even like skirts! I only owned like six or seven, and skinny jeans were way more flattering for my figure. But the universe had compelled me to wear a skirt this morning, and I'd been as powerless to resist as ever.

Slowly, my skirt slid down my stomach to its natural resting place, falling over Taylor's head. She shuffled and my body leaned back, uncovering her face again to reveal a fierce blush, her cheeks redder than my hair. Her finger twitched. The movement made my butt twinge and my breath catch. She must have noticed, as she turned her head to stare off in one direction, pointedly not looking at me and moving as little as she could.

She probably thought she was being nice. Or considerate. It was bullshit. She didn't know, but it was bullshit.

The world froze. All I could do was breathe and blink — and even those were done for me, run on a loop. Taylor was the only person that could move when things went like this, but judging from our experiences so far, she was limited too.

"ERABE!" a voice boomed. Like I was supposed to know what that meant. Three little blue windows popped up between us, slightly translucent, each numbered and containing text. I couldn't actually read them — they were reversed, from my perspective — but I could make a guess.

Taylor sighed, then looked over her options. The options that would dictate our future. With obvious reluctance, she removed one hand from my butt — not the finger one — and tapped the first listing. The window flashed and disappeared, and there was a moment of stillness. Then the world kicked into motion.

A shriek escaped my lips: "Kyaaaa!" as my body jumped to its feet, Taylor's finger popping out of my butt. I refused to admit I'd liked it. I staggered away from her until my back was against the wall. My hands took positions across my chest and crotch in the cliche `maiden protecting her modesty' pose — even though I was fully clothed — and one leg raised up until my knee was in line with my hip.

"Pervert!" I shouted, recognising the pattern. I'd gotten good at reading these things. But she'd chosen this? Now I wanted to know what the other options were! "Pervert, pervert, pervert!"

Taylor looked up at me, and I got a good look at her. She looked haggard, eyes drawn and set above deep, dark sacks. She winced as she stood and took a step toward me. "Sorry, Emma, I didn't mean — "

I punched her in the face. Not by choice, though I probably would have done it willingly. She went flying down the hall, way further than any punch of mine was physically capable of sending her, screaming " — toooo!" in a long, drawn-out note. She bounced off the floor, rebounded off a wall, hit the ceiling, then smashed into a set of lockers, caving them in.

The scenario ended. I didn't regain full control of my body — I never had that anymore — but I felt the invisible binds loosen. Taylor stood up slowly, looking even worse than before, though of course she wasn't seriously injured, just scuffed a bit. She glanced at me and nodded weakly, but said nothing. Then she shambled down the hall away from me.

I frowned. Had she chosen that one on purpose? Because it was the easiest for me? My body bent over to pick up my things. I rubbed my butt and smiled ruefully. She probably had. She was always good at reading me; I didn't doubt she knew I liked those ones. Getting to hit her like that was the only thing keeping me from slitting my wrists at night. Well, that and the universe.

My feet started moving on track again, and my good humour vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced with a growing dread. I had chemistry class now. With Taylor. And it was only first period. I had an entire day to get through yet.

I muttered a fervent prayer under my breath. But who was I kidding? Of course I was going to be her partner. I always was.

But hey. Maybe my clothes would survive this time.


* * *

Colin Wallis

The usual chime sounded from his computer, letting him know someone had patched into his private communications channel. "Colin?"

He spun his chair around to face the computer, meeting the gaze of his visitor's recently updated avatar. It was fully modelled, now. Much more complicated. He had theories as to why she'd upgraded now when she'd been so against it earlier, but she seemed reluctant to share just yet, and he didn't press her.

"Dragon," he said, casting a cursory glance at the bars hovering beside her. Nothing out of the ordinary, though the satisfaction meter had dropped more than he'd expected. Perhaps he'd neglected her somewhat. Hm. Easy enough to rectify. "How can I help?"

She shifted, looking down at her feet. "Do you notice anything different about me?"

Colin froze. That was it. The question he'd dreaded ever since his new life had started. This situation demanded careful steps.

He considered himself an observant man — tinkering would be difficult if he was prone to missing things, even occasionally — but... women were hard to understand. They seemed to treat a change of clothes the way he'd treat a new attachment for his halberd, as if changing clothes was something more than a ridiculous but necessary aspect of maintaining a socially acceptable everyday lifestyle.

Noticing a change of clothing presented no difficulty, though it was not typically an event worth commenting on. But Dragon's avatar wore the same attire it had on her last visit, so clearly that was not the answer she sought. Something else had changed. But what?

Two blinks activated the latest build of his analysis assistant, the program hooking into the camera in his helmet and scanning the feed for any and all details. A twitch of his left-hand ring finger prompted a port to open up at the base of his neck, between his shoulder blades. From that port emerged a tiny needle, sliding into his neck with an insignificant pinch and injecting a translucent fluid directly into his spinal cord. The drugs took effect instantaneously, and his brain kicked into overdrive.

Performance enhancers were dangerous, and he had relegated them accordingly for use exclusively in emergency situations. By his reckoning, this qualified. A flick of his eyes started a timer in the corner of his helmet display. A question such as Dragon's was time-sensitive, an optimistic estimate maxing at approximately six and a half seconds. If he took too long to respond, she would assume he was unable to recognise the difference in her appearance, whatever that was.

Such an outcome would likely result in a drop in affection and trust levels of anywhere between three to seven percent, dependent on several factors.

His eyes snapped to the boxes on Dragon's left. Her mood register indicated she was feeling uncertain and lonely, but excited. Not excellent. Evidently fifty-seven hours was the maximum possible period he could go without interacting with Dragon before incurring some penalty. He'd have to make note of that later. It was a non-insignificant difference to Hannah's sixty-five hours and Kayden's one-hundred-and-nine.

Yes, the mood readings were a concern. Uncertainty would likely result in a drop in self-confidence and cause a domino effect that would end with Dragon becoming more closed off on a personal level, potentially locking off a route.

Hm. That would not do at all.

He inspected her avatar closely. Her hair was unchanged in style and length, but it appeared to be approximately two shades lighter than it had been the last time he'd seen her. However, there had been an accident in his lab between then and now, and he'd been forced to recalibrate the gamma and colour gamut configurations on his two primary monitors, which Dragon was using now. That could skew the results. But there didn't seem to be any other changes.

A tough decision awaited. Should he admit to not knowing the answer, or guess? His helmet timer informed him he had two point two seconds left to consider. Tapping into the analysis assistant revealed it had not discovered anything out of the ordinary. He terminated both programs and opened his mouth to speak, but Dragon cut him off.

"You can't tell, can you?" she said, virtual lips twisting into a grin.

Fuck. He considered lying, but threw the idea out. He'd failed, and she'd caught him. Better to acknowledge it, no matter how much it would set back his progress on completing her route.

"Maybe you should turn around."

Frowning in confusion, he did so, just as the door to his lab opened. A woman walked in, clad head-to-toe in gunmetal grey armour. Only the lower half of her face was uncovered, similar to Colin's own helmet. She stopped by his desk, then reached up and pulled the helmet off — an act punctuated by a quiet pneumatic hiss as the clasps connecting helmet to body released — revealing a beautiful face and lush brown hair that went to her shoulders.

His jaw dropped. She smiled. "Project Soma?" he said, glancing back at his computer. Dragon's avatar was gone. "You completed it?"

"I did," Dragon said with a nod. Her voice sounded different when not being output through speakers. She stretched out her arms and waggled her fingers. "I still have concerns about the power supply, but everything seems to be working correctly. Even the nerve endings."

Colin rose from his seat and circled her, inspecting her head. She grinned. He removed his gauntlet and ran a hand through her hair. It felt like hair. His curiosity got the better of him. He poked her cheek and neck, feeling the way the skin gave way to his fingers. He pried open her lips to test the internal fluid generation and tapped her teeth to check hardness. He squeezed her nose and pulled her ear, nodding as the cartilage responded the way it should.

It was a masterwork. And not just in regards to the craftsmanship and technological achievements emulating so many aspects of the human body would require. The design was top-of-the-line too, with flawless skin and a perfectly sculpted face that looked nearly identical to her digital avatar's. He'd seen the blueprints and technical drawings and mockups, of course, even collaborated on much of the hardware, but having the final product standing before him was something else entirely.

He studied her eyes. They were photorealistic, the camera lens not visible at all. There was no indication that the inhabitant of this body was an artificial intelligence. Even the jerky, halting movement of human eyes was replicated perfectly as Dragon glanced at him. "Um," she said. "You're awfully close."

He jumped back, berating himself. Respecting personal space, rule thirteen of the gentleman's handbook. And the second entry of the `Signs of a Good Boyfriend' article from the latest Cosmopolitan. He'd thought he'd memorised those.

"My apologies." Colin looked at Dragon's stat bars, now hovering over her shoulder, dreading a decrease. The heart icon flashed to indicate a change in affection levels, but oddly, the numbers had gone up. Not by much, granted, but they had still gone up. Interesting. He would make note of that, too.

Dragon cleared her throat. Then did it three more times, as if testing the functionality. "So?" she said when she was satisfied. "What do you think?"

"It's exquisite."

Her cheeks coloured. Oh, the intricate designs that must have involved! He'd be thinking about that for days. Dragon shifted her feet. "Thank you."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the affection meter rise another fraction. Compliments were consistent at that.

An idea struck him. He smiled at her. "Have you tested much?"

"Not yet," Dragon said. "Once I confirmed the movement and neural interfaces were working, I flew it straight here to show you."

"Do you think it's ready to take outdoors?"

Dragon paused, narrowing her eyes at him. "Maybe. Why?"

He threw another glance at her affection meter, then squared his shoulders. He'd have to do this sooner or later; no sense letting the opportunity go to waste.

"Well," he said slowly, not letting his anxiety show. "I thought we could go on a date."

Mistress Lisa

(Автор: vyor)

Fedorable requested a Skittles(smug bug is still the better name!) thing, so... here you go peoples, a Dom Lisa with a Sub Taylor, enjoy(and point out any and all flaws you ungrateful cretins!). This one actually had it's basic idea shoved into my skull before the OC sister thing.


* * *

Taylor almost ran to the door where Lisa, Mistress, was staying. She shook lightly, as though the cold was getting to her through the light robe she had on, but it was something far more primal, lust.

There was fear too of course, that was always there. Fear that Mistress would hurt her like her former best friend had... but if she couldn't trust Mistress, who could she trust?

The door opened before she could knock, she always knew when Taylor hesitated and today was no exception. Walking in and shrugging off her robe, Mistress didn't like her being clothed after all, she looked around. She wasn't allowed to touch Lisa until allowed, and that included her bugs, so she was stuck using her eyes in the dark.

She almost jumped when she heard a voice from right behind her, "Good girl Taylor, getting her on time, and even undressed without prompting?" Arms wrapped around her from behind as tingles when through her body at each word, "And you need this so much, don't worry, I'm here, and I'll always be there when you need me."

Taylor felt tension she wasn't aware of leave her body at Mistress' touch and reassurance and she relaxed into the embrace, Lisa nuzzling her neck before lightly kissing it.

"Come on, I'd rather not have you make a puddle by the door, what would the other's think?" Taylor shivered, she almost wanted to disobey, the punishment worth it for the catharsis it would bring, but she needed her love more today, not that Taylor could put it into so many words. So she let herself be pushed into another room, all the while basking in the smallest of touches she was allowed.

They weren't walking for long before Lisa spun Taylor around and looked her in the eyes, pupils dilated with arousal.

Cupping Taylor's face, she spoke, "Taylor. My beautiful, loving, obedient, Taylor. My toy, my slave, my love." Taylor froze, this hadn't been what she had expected.

Lisa smiled wide, she loved catching Taylor off guard. "And as a reward for being so good, I'll let you pick any one thing you want me to do. Name it." Taylor's mouth went dry, she didn't know what she wanted, all she could do was whimper.

"Ah, you can't choose then? Well, I guess I get too." She grinned, "And I know just the thing."

Taylor was roughly pushed into a bed by Lisa before fingers found their way into her folds, drawing a gasp from the pinned girl. "I'll have my way with you, again and again and again. Until neither of us can stand it." Her fingers curled and Taylor raised her hips, trying to get them deeper. "Thought you'd like that."

Her fingers started to move again, back and forth, each stroke in going deeper than the last until they brushed her g-spot. Taylor came instantly, screaming Lisa's title to the heavens.

Coming down from that, Taylor was greeted with a kiss, long and deep, before it broke. "It's just Lisa right now, just for today." Taylor nodded, eyes not moving from the twin green abysses adorning Lisa before feeling the maddening fingers moving again.

She lost focus and collapsed, moaning and writhing around Lisa's embrace before it stopped.

She started begging, not knowing what was going on and not caring, Lisa's response was filled of pride, smugness, and adoration, "If I had known you wanted this that badly, I would have started with it."

Taylor only had time to register the words and the hungry grin from the blond between her thighs before her world became hazy again, lightning racing up her body from even the lightest of kisses and setting her nerves alight from the far more vigorous tongue. She screamed incoherently, hand curled in Lisa's hair and legs wrapped around her shoulders, not letting Mistress stop pleasuring her. Not that she wanted to stop if her moan of delight was any indication.

Lisa was on the way to an orgasm herself, thanks to her own efforts, so she attempted to time hers with one of Taylor's. They were always better when enhanced by her taste after all.

She failed, but when Taylor came from her trembling and scream it was made up for.

Taylor came again and again, each one more potent than the last, before her vision started to become dark.

Lisa finally stopped and slid up Taylor, kissing as she went, "I'd love to go on, but I don't think you could handle right now. So I think I'll just kiss you goodnight." The kiss was long without being sexual, finally relaxing Taylor to sleep.

Lisa smiled and allowed herself to drift off as well.

Oops

(Автор: Angush)

Aaaand here's the third one I forgot about. My take on 32nd freeze's idea from February. Those links do contain spoilers for the parts that will follow this, if anyone cares about that, but it shouldn't be tough to guess what'll happen regardless.

Contains: Taylor/Amy, temporary-futa, drunk sex. (12,333 words)


* * *

Part 1

"C'mon Ames, it'll be fun!"

I gave her my best stink-eye. Or I tried to, anyway. She made it difficult, pouting and fluttering her eyelashes up at me — which required her to kneel down, given I was seated on my bed. Not to mention the subtle prodding of her aura — enough that its presence was noticeable, even if it didn't affect me. "I was planning to go to the hospital tonight."

"You went yesterday," Vicky said. "C'mon, please? They don't need you tonight. And if something comes up, I'll fly you right over!"

"Mm." I didn't stand, moving on to the next excuse on my mental checklist. "It's not really my scene."

"What isn't?" she said, raising an eyebrow and smirking. "Talking to people? C'mon, Ames, it'll be fine! You don't have to drink or dance or anything. There'll be games to play and other things to do. And I promise I won't try to set you up with any guys. You can just sit around and talk with the girls or — oh! Kath told me about this girl, Melissa. She'll be there. I think you'd like her. She's really into biology and stuff."

I kept my face carefully blank, glancing around my room to hide how hard I worked to avoid laughing. If only she knew. When I finally composed myself, I moved on to my next excuse and said, "I don't know her. Or this... Kath."

"You do so know Kath! She's the one whose boyfriend cheated on her with Danielle Fuls. Remember? From chemistry? When they had that fight in the hall outside class?" She tossed her head. "Plus, Dean'll be there."

"Uh..." I frowned at the non-sequitur. "Isn't he hosting?"

"Well, yeah," Vicky said. "But what I meant was, it's not like you won't know anyone there. You'll have me and Dean, and I think Carlos or Dennis or one of those guys will be coming, too. But, Ames, you'll never make any friends if you don't talk to people. People you don't already know inside and out. So, like, people who aren't me."

That's a little patronising, Vicky, I thought. But of course, I didn't say it out loud. She was right. Not that it really mattered — the thought was dispelled the moment she smiled.

"Pretty please with a cherry on top?" she said, voice growing more earnest. Painfully so. "I think this could be really, really good for you, sis."

I paused, but my resistance crumbled, drawing a sigh from my throat. I just wasn't cut out for saying no. Not to her. "Will you be drinking?"

"Of course!" Vicky said, jumping to her feet with a grin. She knew I'd caved, and I hadn't even said it yet. She could sense it. "But you don't have to if you don't want to. Nobody does. Believe it or not, you're not the only teen who practices abstinence."

I chuckled, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Abstinence was too strong a word. And either way, I didn't expect that attitude to last the night.

"So you'll come, then?"

"Yes, Vicky," I said, giving her a patient smile. "I'll come."

"Awesome!" she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet as if I only weighed two pounds. Super strength. I felt a moment of the usual jealousy — her power was way cooler than mine — but that turned to dread when I noticed the mischievous twist to her lips. "Now let's pick out something nice. I'm gonna make you look your best tonight, or I'll die trying."

I already regretted this decision.


* * *

And I only regretted it more once things got started.

Dean was out front when we landed on the lawn, greeting guests. He was dressed casually, in store-faded jeans and a lame t-shirt with a stupid pun on it. "Vicky!" he said, holding out his arms. She put me down and they hugged, exchanging cheek-kisses. My self-control had been refined to a T over the years seeing this, but I was glad they restrained themselves to just the cheek. I might have vomited if they'd started making out again. "You made it."

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

"Yep," Victoria said, then grabbed my shoulders and pulled me forward. "Sorry I'm late, but I brought a plus one!"

"So I see," Dean said, turning to me.

I raised my hands to cover my body as he looked me up and down. There wasn't any actual perversion there, but I wasn't naturally comfortable in dresses, even in private. My hands accomplished little though; my body was a little too big for them. So I was left shuffling in place, probably looking as awkward as I felt. "Hi."

"Hi," Dean said, meeting my eyes — ever the courteous one — and smiling his usual smile. The kind of smile you just wanted to punch off his stupid face. Or maybe that was just me. "You look nice."

"Thanks," I said, barely able to keep the disgust from my voice. He frowned, a minuscule furrowing of his brow. He'd probably noticed the fluctuation in my emotions, and now wondered what he'd said wrong. I immediately berated myself. He was just trying to be nice. Even if he was clearly lying, there was no need to be a bitch about it. "Vicky picked it out," I added lamely, gesturing in her direction. She'd no doubt be happy to take charge for a bit. I was already exhausted of being social.

"Yup," my sister chirped, planting fists on hips. "It was the tamest thing in my closet. She vetoed everything else — including heels."

Tame, my ass. As if the amount of leg and arm it showed wasn't enough, the dress was a little too tight for my tastes, hugged my skin too closely. I couldn't help but think it emphasised my worst features. For instance, my power kept my healthy, but it didn't keep me fit, and bulges and flabby bits were pretty damn noticeable in tight clothing. Victoria had assured me it was fine, that I looked good, but I just couldn't bring myself to believe her.

Wearing this thing was another one of those impulsive, instant-regret decisions I only ever made to see her smile. The only part of the dress I really liked was that it was hers. I could almost imagine her smell pervading the fabric, keeping me company. Keeping me safe. As stupid as that was. Especially since it had been washed thoroughly since the last time it had adorned her skin — whenever that was. I'd never actually seen her wearing it before, but she had a lot of clothes.

A cur pulled up at the curb, receiving a glance from Dean. "Well," he said, smiling at us, "I've got to greet everyone else. You're welcome to stay out here if you'd like, but if not..." He pointed back to his house. The building was already almost shaking with the noise. "...there's food and drink in the kitchen, and the rec room is stocked with cards and board games. You know where the bathroom is. And you can stay the night if you'd like; I've got a pair of spare rooms upstairs set aside for the both of you."

Victoria snorted and leaned into his body, curling up against him. He put a hand on her back — a little too low for my tastes — and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him fully, on the lips. I looked away. "You really think I'll be using your spare room tonight?" she purred, her voice husky and perfect, and a little too loud — I doubted she meant for me to hear that.

I ignored the implication, and tried to picture what it'd be like if she were saying that to me. Doing that to me. It was a nice image. For a moment. Then I heard them kiss again, and it was gone.

Vicky grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the house with her, waving back at Dean. Crossing the threshold was like stepping into another world, where shitty techno music was the go-to choice for ambience and wearing clothes two sizes too small was considered acceptable.

My sister snaked through the sizeable crowd that had already gathered, dragging me behind her. She moved with purpose, though she couldn't possibly know who was here already or where they were. We stopped in the kitchen. Vicky released my hand and hugged a girl from behind, yelling, "Surprise!"

The girl shrieked. I tried not to feel jealous about the hug and how it must feel; Vicky hugged me all the time. I wasn't entirely successful. "Vicky!" the girl groaned, turning in my sister's arms while the people around her laughed. "I told you not to do that!"

"Sorry," Vicky said with a grin that belied her sincerity. "I couldn't resist." She pulled me forward, into the limelight. "This is my sister, Amy. She's a first-timer."

The three others around us gave names and waved hellos, then Vicky swept them up into her storm, and their conversation bowed to her wants. She tried to include me, but the scene shifted faster than the weather. People left to find their other friends, and new people interrupted constantly, until we were surrounded by an entirely different group, despite having not moved an inch. And I knew none of their names.

Vicky introduced me to some of her friends, like Katherine and Georgia and Renee and James, but they followed the same pattern. They would say something polite to me, then talk with Victoria until a distraction arose or they found something else to do.

The girl Vicky had told me about earlier was dragged over to join us at one point. Meghan or Miley or Melissa or something starting with M. She actually talked to me, not Vicky. But she just asked questions about my powers, getting me to touch her or other people and describe how parts of the body felt to me. She annoyed me. She seemed to catch on after a while, and started trying to talk about other things, but we clearly didn't have a lot in common, and she left soon after.

Some time during our conversation, Vicky had left me alone too, probably gone off to chatter and gossip with some of her girlfriends. Or girl friends, rather, emphasis on the space. My sister was straight as an arrow and just as oblivious. I'd tested extensively. That is to say, I'd filled the `recommended content' sections of her favourite social media sites with pictures of scantily clad girls, by looking at pictures of said girls whenever she left herself logged in — which was all the time.

... It may not have been the most conclusive of tests. After all, it had yielded no discernible result, nothing visible to the human eye or to my touch. Not arousal or attraction, and not even suspicion about why her feeds were filled with so many bikini models. Just plain old interest in the bikinis.

And she'd probably be interested in them even if they weren't being worn by beautiful women. So my machinations probably hadn't affected anything. Not that it mattered either way. Even if it had awoken something, Vicky's sudden discovery of her probably-non-existent lesbian side wouldn't really solve anything for me. She'd still be disgusted if she knew.

I shook my head, dismissing the worthless thoughts. With nothing better to do, and no clue where my sister had gone, I wandered about Dean's house, observing the party-goers as they moved and interacted with a detached sense of boredom.

Raucous laughter filled one corner of the lounge room — where the couches had been pushed back to the wall, leaving a big empty area in which people could mingle — and whispering gossip-girls another, while angry shouts and shoves erupted from a third. But all of it was drowned out by the mind-numbing thumping of the music, playing off one of those little speaker sets someone had plugged their phone into and turned up too high.

I couldn't stand it. So I went outside and found a seat in the garden, a nice smooth rock. It was a little better out here; but only a little. I could still hear the music, and there were still other people around. One trio shared cigarettes by the porch and chatted about inane bullshit like the latest episode of some TV show I'd never seen, and how some dumbass pop star had knocked up his girlfriend while high on cocaine. I tuned them out.

Elsewhere, a couple sat beneath a tree on the lawn. They seemed to be playing cards, though I couldn't make out the game from my rock. One girl lay alone, supine on the grass, making snow-angels — or she would have been if there was any snow, instead of just grass. Was she drunk already, or on drugs? Or was she just a straight-up weirdo?

A car pulled up at the curb. A skinny girl exited the passenger side, a similar-looking man getting out of the driver's. Her father? They talked for a minute, the girl growing visibly annoyed.

"Taylor!"

I turned. The voice belonged to a new girl who'd just came out from the house. She laughed-slash-squealed and hurried over to the skinny girl's car. I couldn't hear what else they said — not that I was particularly interested — but their conversation ended when the man got back into his car and left. The pretty girl pulled the skinny one with her into the house, off to join everyone else. The skinny girl didn't look very happy at the prospect. I didn't blame her; this whole thing wasn't as fun as it was supposed to be.

I picked up a pebble, turning it in my hands, inspecting the little imperfections on its surface, running my fingers along its smooth contours. I put it back down, then picked up another; a brown one. I traced the edges with my thumb. There was something soothing about pebbles, beyond the fact that I could touch them without getting flooded with information.

I was still getting that information, from the bacteria that surrounded me everywhere I went, from the ant that had come with the pebble, and from the fly that had just landed on my ankle. I'd learned to tune that out long ago, but it was still nice to touch things that didn't require that acclimatisation. And I mean actually touch with meaning; not just touch in the everyday sense, like the clothes I wore or the floor I walked on.

"Shit," someone said from behind me. I turned and managed to jump back in time to avoid the messy, projectile vomit of a wobbly-legged teen as he sprayed the garden. When he was finished, he wiped his mouth and glanced at me. "My bad," he said before collapsing in his own mess.

Another boy stared at me with wide eyes. "Dude," he said, nudging his friend with a foot without looking. His friend groaned. "I think you just threw up on Panacea."

I restrained my sigh. "It's okay," I lied, patting down my dress. It looked clean, and it felt it too. Both in the conventional sense and in my... more unique sense. "He didn't get any on me, I think." I squatted down and poked the vomit boy's neck with one finger. He groaned again.

He was fine. Nothing he needed me for. All the same, I gave him a minor fix-up and broke down what I could of the remaining vomit in his oesophagus, redistributing the nutrients through his body. I wasn't sure why. Habit, maybe. It just felt like something I should do.

"I'm really sorry," his friend said. "He, uh, went a little overboard on the free pizza. He's a bit of a cheapskate."

I stood and brushed off my knees, even though they weren't dirty in any way. "I told you, it's okay. And he'll be fine. Just get him some water."

"Water. Right!" With that, the guy turned and hurried back into the house, quickly gone from sight.

I glanced at his friend. He'd started laughing with wheezy breaths. Or maybe he was crying; it was hard to tell. I allowed myself a sigh and headed inside.


* * *

I drifted. Through the house, through the party, through the people. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves, but I just couldn't bring myself to do the same. I didn't know anyone here, and Victoria hadn't kept her promise. I hadn't really expected her to, but her... abandonment... Well, it just kind of drove the point home: there was no place for me here.

I wanted to leave, to go home. But at the same time, I didn't. I may not have belonged here, but most days it felt like I didn't belong there, either.

In much the same way, I wanted to see Victoria, but I also didn't. I had a good idea what I'd find. And I didn't want to see that, to confront it again now, no matter how many times I'd seen it before.

Everything blurred together. A haze of boredom and disinterest overwhelmed me. Faces faded, sounds were drowned out by nothingness.

I found myself with a group of people I didn't know, all of us just standing around in a hallway. I had no idea how I had arrived there. My hands held a plastic cup containing cola. It was full almost to the brim. In however long I'd been holding it, I'd not taken a drink. I didn't feel the thirst.

The people around me talked amongst themselves. Laughter was frequent. I stood and listened. They switched between topics at the drop of a hat. I remembered Victoria's advice — I couldn't make friends without speaking to people.

So I tried. But most of the time, I had nothing to contribute.

Occasionally a topic arose that I did have something to say about, but they all moved on to the next before I could find the right words. And on those rare occasions when I did manage to get a few words out, it was at the same time someone else spoke — someone with a louder voice and more charisma than me — and I was drowned out. Even the girls on their phones were more active participants in the conversation than I was.

It was frustrating. I soon stopped trying.

The guy beside me bumped my arm, spilling cola onto my shoes — but thankfully not on Victoria's dress. I shook my foot out, grumbling under my breath. He didn't notice any of it. Nor did anyone else.

I'd had enough of this. It just wasn't working. I wasn't clever enough or outgoing enough or fun enough or whatever it is that makes people like you, and I didn't have the patience or stubbornness to get past it via pure will. This just wasn't me.

I withdrew without comment, and set out to find somewhere off the beaten path. Everyone here moved around in groups. If I found somewhere solitary to sit, somewhere I could be alone, I wouldn't be bothered.

Unless someone decided — without Victoria's prodding at every corner — to hit on me. That would be an interesting change of pace. But it would also never happen. Of all the people here, no sane girl — or guy, I suppose — would pick me to hit on. Unless they were cape junkies, but... they'd probably just be intimidated. After all, I'd often been described as standoffish in Victoria's celebrity gossip mags.

I spotted a small, two-seater sofa in a corner of the lounge room — unoccupied. It looked comfy. I headed for it, going around the edges of the room and skirting the makeshift dance floor. The crowd had thinned out somewhat as people had grown hungry or horny and went to find food or a secluded spot in which to violate each other's mouths.

I reached the sofa... just as another girl arrived from the other direction. We stopped short, looking at each other. She looked vaguely familiar — not surprising, since she probably went to Arcadia.

I wasn't sure what to do. I wanted to sit there on my own, but I couldn't exactly tell her to fuck off. Even if that wasn't a plain shitty thing to do, Carol would kill me. We were always meant to appear charitable and friendly. So...

I smiled at her as best I could. I was never great at smiling, but I'd had lessons, so I could manage in a pinch.

"You take it," we said in unison.

Silence.

Okay, not silence. There was a party going on around us. But neither of us two spoke or moved for a long while.

"Seriously," I said on auto-pilot. I wasn't thinking about the words; they just came out of my mouth. "You take it. I can find somewhere else."

The girl gave a lopsided smile, tilting her head a fraction. I wish I knew how to read body language, to understand what that expression meant. My power doesn't help with that as much as you'd think. "I can't do that," the girl said. "Besides, you got here first."

"No I didn't," I said, then thought, What the fuck, mouth?

"Take it anyway," she said. "It's no trouble, really."

She turned to start walking away and, like an idiot, I grabbed her elbow. "Wait," my bitch of a mouth said, taking matters into its own treacherous hands once again. "There's — I mean, it's a two-seater. So really, this whole conversation is stupid. Neither of us have to go anywhere."

She... huffed — a minor exhalation of air from her nostrils; a sort of almost-laugh, or almost-snort — and quirked her lips. "I don't know if arguing about a chair really counts as a conversation."

I laughed — that's the appropriate thing to do when someone makes a joke — but it came out as more of a nervous giggle and made me sound like a complete idiot.

The girl turned around, and my hand dropped from her arm. "You don't mind?"

"No." Yes. Dammit. "Not at all."

She looked at me for a moment. It seemed like she should have been pursing her lips in thought, but her expression didn't change at all. Finally, she shrugged and said, "Alright," then sat on the sofa.

I sat beside her.

Neither of us said anything else.

I took a sip of my water and watched the other party-goers as they danced — badly, for the most part — in the clear space in the middle of the room and chatted in small groups around the peripherals.

The girl beside me coughed quietly into her fist. Once. But other than that, she sat weirdly still, staring out across the makeshift dance floor at nothing I could locate. The only movement I could perceive out of the corner of my eye was the slow rise and fall of her breathing.

And that was it.

Nothing happened.

...for quite a while.

My eyes were drawn toward a girl seated alone at a dining table across the room. She was pretty — from behind, at least — but that wasn't why I noticed her. A boy had just walked up to her and tapped on the table, catching her attention. He smiled and said something. She laughed and said something back. A few more exchanged lines, a shaking of hands, and then the boy sat beside her, and they kept talking.

I remembered Vicky's advice again, from earlier in the night. About how I'd never make friends if I never spoke to new people.

I looked at the girl seated beside me. She was pretty, in a unique sort of way. And tall. Even sitting down, I could tell she was taller than me by a good margin. She might even be taller than Vicky — provided my sister wasn't cheating with her powers or high-heels. Vicky looked good in heels. This girl was wearing more nondescript sneakers, but actually, she'd probably look good in heels too. Long legs were good for those... or so I've heard.

Of course, my imagination immediately jumped to an image of Vicky making out with this girl, the both of them wearing nothing but heels. Good job, brain. You couldn't even put me in there.

I shook my head. Point was... uh, actually, I don't know what the point was. The girl was reasonably good looking — when compared to normal people, at least; so, people that weren't Vicky. I could see myself talking to her. Being friends, maybe.

On the other side of the fence, if I didn't talk to her, I could easily picture Vicky finding out somehow and admonishing me for ignoring her advice. And it was good advice, really. Talking to her would be a great step! I just... well, saying I didn't know how to do that would be an understatement.

I'd read like a hundred blog posts on the net about making friends, but they were all pretty much useless. "Be yourself" and "smile a lot" were the most common tidbits of advice there. But you couldn't carry a conversation on smiling. And I certainly couldn't carry a conversation by being myself.

Maybe... find something we had in common? That was common advice in Vicky's magazines. They meant it more in regards to flirting, and I wasn't really intending to flirt with this girl, but the principles should be pretty similar.

Besides, I knew we had one thing in common already.

Neither of us wanted to be here.

Yeah, I thought, taking a deep breath. I can do this. No problem.

I didn't give my brain time to object.

"Hi," I squeaked.

It took her a moment to realise I was speaking to her. She turned to me — a little surprised, if her expression was anything to go by. "Sorry?"

Good job, Amy. You could run for president with charisma like that.

Trying to keep the embarrassment off my cheeks, I cleared my throat and smiled again. It made me feel sickly. "Uh, hi, I said."

"Oh," the girl said, then smiled after another moment's pause. She had nice teeth. "Hi."

Quiet settled again. I shifted in my seat. It appears hi is not, in fact, a magic word.

"I'm Amy," I said, holding out a hand.

"Taylor," the girl said, reaching out to shake my hand. The moment our skin touched, my power filled my head with junk. I sifted it absently, then paused as my power showed me the extra lobe in her brain. Or not-lobe. The one that parahumans had. She was —

No. Nope, nope, nope. Not going there. I shoved that little tidbit out of my mind. She was a normal person. No need to complicate matters. Especially when this was so complicated already.

The angle of our handshake was awkward — more for her than me, with the way her elbow knocked against the cushions. I felt inconsiderate. She didn't seem to mind, but we kept the shake short, all the same.

"Nice to meet you," she added.

"Oh," I said, in my infinite wisdom. "Uh, yeah, nice to meet you too." I bit my lip and cast a quick glance around the room, searching and not finding a conversation starter. It was only just occurring to me that `not wanting to be here' wasn't one. That was mistake number... I dunno, twenty-seven, maybe.

Different tactic, then. Ask her about herself. People are supposed to like that. Something about showing interest. "Do you go to Arcadia?" Dammit. Stupid question.

"Yeah," she said, then quieted again.

Mistake number twenty-eight: asking yes-or-no questions. I needed to give her more to work with. I was just opening my mouth when she spoke again:

"It's not as nice as I thought it'd be."

"Arcadia? Uh... what do you mean? Did you transfer in?"

The girl — Taylor — made a face, and as inept as I was, even I could tell I'd already fucked something up. "Yeah, from Winslow," she said. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Sorry, I didn't — "

"No, it's okay. Just — I mean, if we're going to talk, I'm sure there are better topics than school."

Quiet again. She was probably right. Not that —

"Not that I can think of any," she added with a smile.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It wasn't even that funny, but laughter wracked me as I curled in on myself. I tried to restrain it with little success. Stopping it completely was far, far beyond me.

Years later, the tremors subsided, and I wiped tears from my eyes. Taylor sat with a little quirked grin on her face, like she was an inch away from laughing herself, though she clearly had better self-control than I did.

"Sorry," I said, then a residual giggle interrupted me. "I didn't mean to upset you, before. I just — "

"I told you, it's okay," Taylor chuckled, following it up with a quiet sigh and a moment of silence. Then, "I was bullied at Winslow. Just a little, nothing... serious. But I always kinda thought that stuff wouldn't happen at Arcadia, you know?"

I frowned. "Has someone — "

"No, no-one's bothered me. But I've seen it happening to other people, and it's just... disappointing."

I quieted. I hadn't seen anything like that, let alone been a target. Not since middle school, at least. But... I was Victoria Dallon's sister, and everyone knew it. Hurting me was a sure-fire way to piss her off. And she could fly and bench-press trucks, so pretty much everyone wanted to stay on her good side.

"Sorry again," I said, feeling a sudden surge of honesty, a desire to reciprocate. My secrets were a little more... damaging, so I didn't have much to share, but... "I'm not very good at this," I found myself saying. "Talking to people, I mean."

Taylor glanced my way and quirked another smile. "Neither am I," she said. "I usually wind up with people who do all the talking for me."

"Exactly!"

Taylor blinked. I did too, realising I'd jumped forward with my exclamation, invading her personal space more than a little bit. Right in her face, really.

I jerked back, reining in my blush just as sharply. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay," Taylor said, brushing rich, curly hair behind an ear. "You just surprised me."

"Still, sorry. So, uh..." I fumbled for something else to say, and jumped on the first thing that came to mind, as vapid as it was. "What do you think of the whole party thing? I don't get it, myself."

"Neither do I." She paused to sigh. "Honestly, I don't even know why I'm here. I wasn't planning on coming. I don't even think I was invited. Tonight was meant to be..." She shook her head and glanced at me. "Do you know who the host is? Because I have no idea. And I've been here for forty minutes."

I chuckled politely. "That's Dean. Dean Stansfield. He's my sister's boyfriend. He probably invited me, but I'm only here because she begged me to come." I gestured down at my body. "This dress is hers. She... coerced me into it. It looks a lot better on her."

"Well, I, uh... I think it looks good on you," Taylor said, then smiled wryly. "Though I'll admit, I don't know much about fashion."

I blushed, like an idiot. She wasn't hitting on me, just giving me a compliment. There was nothing special about that. "Thanks," I said, surprising myself when I realised I actually meant it. For some reason — maybe because she gave the compliment the same way I would have, had our positions been reversed — I trusted Taylor's awkward sincerity. More than I'd trust any compliment from Dean or any of Vicky's friends, or even from Vicky herself. I mean, Vicky's compliments definitely made me feel like blushing more, but that was for different reasons entirely.

"Dean Stansfield, you said? The name sounds familiar, at least. I'm going to assume he's rich."

"Yeah. If your stereotypical rich kid and your stereotypical nice guy had a kid together, that kid would be Dean Stansfield. Don't worry about not having an invite, by the way. I doubt half of these people do." I nodded toward the throng mingling on the dance floor, waiting out the momentary respite between song changes. "It's more of an `invite your friends' kind of thing. Or a `just show up on the doorstep with beer' kind of thing, I guess." What are you talking about, Amy? Shut up.

"Mm." She turned back to watch the dancers as the next song began.

Fuck, I thought. Why can't I do this? Even the nerdiest kids at school can make friends; why can't I?

Then it hit me. A way to engage this girl, and take some of the pressure off me — and her — to keep conversation going with nothing to focus on. Maybe a way to even have a little fun myself. God knows I could use it.

"Hey, Taylor?" I said. She looked at me. "Uh... when I got here, Dean was out front, greeting people. He said they had a bunch of games laid out in the rec room. Like, board games, I think."

She nodded.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you... uh, if you'd want to go have a look with me? It's probably a lot quieter there, too. Less people. We could just..." I floundered, my hands flopping out of the air as I aborted my useless gestures. "...you know, see if there's anything good to play?"

Taylor blinked, but said nothing. Then she smiled, rich and wide. "Sure," she said, standing and patting her jeans off. "That sounds like fun."

Fuck. Yes.


* * *

I bit my lip as Taylor rolled the dice. They seemed to bounce across the board in slow motion, spin on their corners for an eternity. But eventually they came to a stop.

Two sixes.

I threw my cards to the ground and groaned as dramatically as I could manage. Taylor fell onto her back, clutching her stomach as she laughed her ass off.

"How do you do that every time?" I said.

Taylor rolled over, still giggling, and moved her piece to the finish line. One tile ahead of me. She shrugged — a weird movement for someone lying on their stomach. "Pure skill."

I huffed. "You could at least try to be modest."

A grin split her cheeks as she gathered the dice up into her hands. "There's a trick to it. You have to promise them things. For instance, this little guy — " she held up one die between her fingers " — is twenty grand in debt to a real piece-of-work loan shark. And I figured I could pay that off with my winnings from our last game, if he gave me a good roll in exchange."

"Right, right, I understand completely now. The secret to victory is paying everyone else off."

"How dare you?" she said, giving me a scandalised look and patting the dice protectively. "At least call it bribery. It sounds so much classier."

I snorted — by accident, mind you — and stood to stretch. There was a few seconds of silence, but it wasn't awkward anymore. More... companionable.

"You wanna play that one again?" Taylor said. She glanced over to the stack of game boxes, built like a pyramid, with the biggest at the bottom. "Or we could dive into one of those. Preferably not one of the monsters."

"Something new, I think," I said, then sighed in relief as the joints in my back and shoulders popped. "You can pick something out. I need a toilet break." I moved to leave but stopped at the door, giving her a semi-stern look over my shoulder. "Nothing with dice."

Taylor laughed. "Nothing with dice," she agreed, and turned back to the boxes.


* * *

I barely noticed how the next person in line nodded to me as I exited the bathroom; I just started down the hall, zigzagging absentmindedly between the scattered cliques. My mind was focused elsewhere: on Taylor. Because... I was actually enjoying myself. I was having fun. With someone who, until less than two hours ago, I'd never met before in my life.

And best of all, she was having fun too! Because of me! She was enjoying my company in a way very few people ever had.

I was making a friend, all by myself.

An immense sensation of pride bubbled up inside me. A pitiful thing for a seventeen-year-old girl to be proud of, maybe, but this was a big milestone for me. Every last person in my social circle was Victoria's friend, not mine. That seems completely impossible, right? I thought so too, until I realised I was living it. The hospital staff were the sole exception, but the less said about them the better.

I hoped Victoria would be proud of me too, when she found out what I'd accomplished tonight. She'd wanted me to do this, and I had. Oh, I could just imagine how her face would look when I invited my friend to sit with us for lunch. Though Vicky could get pretty over-protective, and I wouldn't want to risk her scaring Taylor away this early, so... maybe I'd better leave the formal introduction for later.

Something materialised in front of me and I stopped short, physically and mentally. The hallway I'd used earlier was blocked by a big group of muscular guys wearing football jerseys. I'd almost walked right into them. No way was I going to push my way through a bunch of gym nuts. I turned and headed the long way round, intending to cut through the second living room.

My eyes swept the room as I walked. I didn't want to embarrass myself by actually running into something. Almost every square inch was furnished with beanbags and comfy-looking chairs and couches. I kept to the edges of the room, away from the game of poker in the center area.

That proved to be a mistake.

I ended up with a direct line of sight to a makeshift alcove in the corner of the room, hidden away from most people's sight. Within was the beanbag my sister was seated upon. Or more accurately, the beanbag Dean was seated upon, with Vicky in his lap. They exchanged sloppy, noisy kisses and appreciative moans. There was an unusual bulge beneath Vicky's shirt — a lump that moved around her chest region, contracting and expanding like it was squeezing something. His hand.

I froze. For whatever cruel twist of fate, I couldn't look away. I wanted to desperately, but I couldn't.

As I watched, Vicky gasped. Then she giggled and curled further into him, doubling down on her kisses. I saw another movement between their bodies. Near her crotch. Beneath her clothes.

Then I realised I couldn't see his other hand.

That broke the spell. I snapped my head around and rushed out of the room. Before, I'd thought I'd throw up if I had to see them doing something intimate again. I was wrong. This felt worse. So much worse. The idea of it was one thing. The reality was another.

I dashed about the house, looking for someplace private before I lost it. A fit of desperation sent me to a linen closet, and I squeezed into the space between the shelves and the door, barely big enough for a person.

Then I pulled the door shut, dropped to my knees, and cried.


* * *

It felt like hours before I emerged, my brain belatedly reminding me that Taylor was waiting for me. I had trouble making myself care. My elation, my pride, my happiness — everything Taylor's company had birthed? It was all gone. Like a candle flame, snuffed out by the cold winds of reality.

But I managed to muster up a dredge of determination. I'd started to build the foundation of a friendship with her tonight, and I couldn't just throw that effort away because I was in love with someone I could never have. Because I was pathetic. I had to go back in there and smile and keep Taylor laughing and enjoying herself. Because if I didn't, she'd have no reason to be my friend. And I needed a friend.

I wasn't convinced I could pull it off. But I was going to try anyway. I had to salvage something from this misguided expedition. Provided she was even still there.

I walked to the kitchen, keeping my head down, and stopped by the sink. I stared into my reflection in the pristine steel basin. My eyes were a little red, but they weren't as bad as I'd expected. All the same, I gave my face a quick wash of water and squared my shoulders. Time to go back.

The bottles on the counter caught my attention as I turned to leave. The rows upon rows of drinks of every variety, most brought by the guests. The two kegs mounted on the dining table. All that alcohol. And so much of it as yet untouched.

I looked around, at the other party-goers. Every person I saw — even the dancers — held a cup or bottle in their hands, sipping from it intermittently. Alcohol was everywhere.

I'd never had any. Not once. Not even when uncle Neil had offered to secret us a few sips of champagne on thanksgiving, years ago, though Victoria and Crystal and Eric had all leapt at the chance. I'd seen what alcohol could do to people. Inside and out. I could fix other people, but not myself, and I had no desire to ruin my liver that way.

But... that kind of damage came from long-term abuse, not one-time affairs. And there had to be a reason so many people partook. I'd always wanted to know why. Apparently it was something nobody could explain properly, even on the boundless expanses of the internet.

Fuck it.

I grabbed the biggest bottle and a pair of cups, then made my way back to the rec room.

Taylor was still there. But a new group of people had showed up and started playing Monopoly in another corner. Well. There went any hope of privacy.

I moved to sit across from Taylor. She looked up from the little instruction booklet she was reading for one of the games. "You okay?" she said.

I paused. I'd expected her to comment on my tardiness, or maybe jump right into the next game, not... that. The excuse I'd constructed to keep things lively crumbled, as did my fake smile, despite my best efforts. "Yeah," I finally said. "No. I don't know. Don't worry about it, I'll be fine." I sighed. "Sorry I took so long."

"That's okay," she said, and waved the booklet at me as I poured myself a cup of whatever I'd grabbed. "I've been reading this thing. It's got lots of little story bits in between all the rules. It's pretty cool. What's that?"

It took me a moment to register her question. "I don't know. Something alcoholic. I just grabbed it at random." I threw her the extra cup. "Want to try it with me?"

"I dunno. I've never drank before. Excluding sips of my dad's beer, anyways."

"I've never tried any of it. But I think now's the perfect time to dip my toes in the proverbial river." I nodded at the Monopoly players. "They're all drinking. Seems to be working for them. Besides, I doubt I'll get the chance again, after tonight. This is the first party I've been to since sixth grade, and probably the last." I turned back to Taylor and sloshed the bottle around. "You don't have to."

Taylor bit her lip. I thought she'd refuse, but then she snatched the bottle from my hands and filled her cup.

Was that peer pressure? I couldn't tell. I didn't care enough to try and work it out.

We took a long drink in sync. I emptied half my cup. The alcohol — whatever it was — did weird, tingly things to my throat and stomach. And it tasted indescribably awful, but that suited me perfectly.

I coughed. "Shit."

Taylor coughed too, brows shooting up as her eyes widened comically. "Yeah."

The Monopoly players exploded into laughter, making me jump and nearly spill the rest of my cup on Taylor's chosen game box. I glared around at them, and Taylor glanced over her shoulder. I leaned closer to her and said, "How long have they been in here?"

"Ten or fifteen minutes, I think," she said. "And before you ask, yeah, they've been pretty consistent as far as loudness goes."

Two of the players started arguing over a trade deal. I made a face. I was about ready to walk over and tell them to turn it down a notch when I remembered something. "I have a room here."

Taylor looked at me. "What?"

"A spare room. I was told one had been, uh, reserved for me, so it's probably empty." I threw another glance at the Monopoly players, now giving a drum roll for someone who had landed on a chance tile. "Want to go check it out?"

She nodded and we gathered up our crap, along with a pair of the smaller games, and made our way upstairs. A piece of paper was taped to one door in a hallway, reading "Amy." I assumed that was referring to me.

I pushed the door open and poked my head into the darkness. Empty. I fumbled at the wall for the light switch, but Taylor moved past me and found it with ease. The room wasn't large, but it had an ensuite bathroom, and it was well-furnished with a little TV opposite a large double bed and an ornate wooden dresser. The bed looked very soft. I wanted to flop on it and just go to sleep, ignore everything else. But I'd never manage that. I had enough trouble sleeping under normal circumstances.

Taylor sat cross-legged on the rug and popped one of her games open, then looked at me expectantly. I downed the rest of my cup and joined her.


* * *

Out of some misshapen desire to spice the game up a little, we added an additional rule: take a drink whenever you lost money.

Perhaps not the smartest idea, seeing as we lost money a lot. And neither of us had a great alcohol tolerance; Taylor being skinny and me being short. But we persisted. Turns out we can both be more than a little competitive.

It got to the point where I started missing minutes. As if I'd passed out for a while, but my body had kept playing and talking and moving on its own. I would come to in the middle of a turn, half-way around the board with a dozen new cards to use and no idea how I got there. Then I'd blank out again, and come to Taylor laughing and hiccuping over something that had happened, but I wouldn't know what.

Once, I found myself dancing. Soulful music blared from a speaker set on the bedside cabinet, and Taylor stumbled ungracefully along with me. We were both belting out the lyrics in our horrible, horrible singing voices and fumbling or missing half the words. We were loud enough that they could probably hear us downstairs. But I didn't care, and neither did she.

The song ended on a long, high note that neither of us could hit. We tried anyway, and it left us breathless and giggling at the way our voices cracked, grasping at each other's arms for support. Then the next song came on. It was slower, gentler. Taylor swayed in time with the music, and I swayed too, not just because our hands were still joined.

One of us took the opportunity to move our hands up into a more conventional formation; hers on my hips, mine on her shoulders. I couldn't tell who had done it, and I didn't mind. It was nice. But the music made me want to cry. I put my head on her chest and closed my eyes. She hummed along as we danced together.


* * *

The next time I came to, the two of us were sat at the foot of the bed and surrounded by pillows and cushions built in the shape of a fort, with a sheet suspended over our heads by some cleverly constructed pillars. I was pretty sure there hadn't been enough pillows in the room for this.

But as extensive as our creation was, there still wasn't much space. So we squeezed close to each other, leaning in to keep our heads from hitting our makeshift ceiling. The bottle of alcohol sat between us, only half empty.

Taylor was talking, her speech halting and slurred. I tried to focus. "...don't know why. She was just diff'rent, y'know? `nd then she started being really mean to me. Said bad stuff `bout my m-mom and my dad and called me names and stuff. `nd her new friend push'd me over lots and tripped me and ruin'd my school work all the time and..." Her face contorted, and she leaned into me as she started crying. "She was my best friend."

I hugged her tight. "I've never had a best friend," I said, my voice cracking halfway through the second word. I felt like crying again too, but I kept it at bay. "Y'know, my sister, she's the `nly one who cares `bout me. My mom hates me. But m-my sister's a-always there. I..."

I swallowed past a lump in my throat and said something I never thought I'd say. "I love her. I-I mean, not like a sister, but like I want her to be my girlfriend, so we can kiss and sleep together and I can see her naked more and stuff and I don't — I can't — I h-hate it! It's disgusting and gross and everyone'd hate me if they found out and she'd hate me too and my mom'd hate me even more and they'd lock me up and send me to hell or something I don't know and I'm so scared that I'll — that I'll — "

Taylor pushed me over and shook her head furiously into my chest. She looked up at me, her cheeks still wet. "N-no!" she said, rolling off me and crawling up alongside me. It was a tight fit. "You're not gross! You're nice and cool and good and nice and not gross or anything, so don't say that, okay? I like you."

I stared at her. "You — I-I want to have s-sex with my sister," I said, my words thick enough that I could barely understand them myself. "Y-you don't think that's gross?"

She shook her head again, crawling up further until our heads were in line and we could look each other in the eye properly. My vision was blurry. She hugged me, and it felt like I couldn't breathe. "S'okay," she sobbed into my shoulder. "I d'nt care. S'okay. There's n'thing wrong with you. S'okay."

I couldn't hold it any more. I cried. We both cried, long past what would be sensible. It formed a self-fulfilling loop of tears and sympathy. There exists some magical link between crying girls; a law that says you can't sit there and watch someone cry without feeling it yourself. So when one of us finally cried herself out, we'd see the other still going, and then it would start all over again.

But we had a limited supply of tears. Eventually we were reduced to sniffling into each other's hair. With the release came an almost-clarity, and I realised how close we were, physically.

We lay with our bodies pressed together, our arms wrapped around each other the way a drowning man would clutch at a log. The sheet ceiling of our pillow fort had collapsed onto us, constricting our movement. Our legs were tangled; her jeans felt coarse against my skin. I could feel and hear every minute movement she made, from her breathing and sniffling to how her fingers brushed against my back.

This was making me self-conscious. But I didn't dare move away. The drowning man analogy was apt. It was stupid, but the thought of moving terrified me. She was my anchor, keeping me from getting washed away in self-pity and self-loathing. And beyond that... not even Vicky had ever held me so tightly. It was impossibly comforting. I relished in the closeness.

Somehow I shifted an inch closer, relieving a discomfort in my back I hadn't realised was there. Taylor froze. Even her breathing stopped. I froze too, holding position for a moment while my courage built. Then I tilted my head up.

Our eyes met.

Hers were red and bloodshot, the passage of tears evident in the wet streaks that ran down her cheeks. We stared into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. But neither of us said a word, or made a sound.

Then I kissed her.

I couldn't explain why. A petty part of my mind said Vicky was off enjoying herself and I should get back at her however I could, and another part of me said the best way to get over her was to find someone else, but... both were wrong. I kissed Taylor because I wanted to. Because it just felt right in a way beyond words, as cliche as that may be. Though that may be the alcohol talking.

Whatever the reason, I let my desire pour out of me and, through our connection, into her as we kissed over and over and over and over. Our bodies pressed together even tighter, if that were possible. We moaned into each other as I sated a need I'd never acknowledged.

If I could have changed both our bodies to not require oxygen, I would have done it, to allow us to kiss for longer. Regrettably, I could not, so we were forced apart often by a mutual need for breath. But I made sure those breaks were not long-lasting. Each time I pulled back her eyes grew increasingly glazed and droopy, and drool began to splatter her cheeks and mine.

She mumbled my name into our kiss more than once. At some point her hands moved to my neck, where her thumbs traced my jaw gently. I was surprised to find my own hands at her waist, unzipping her jeans with spectacular imprecision. I pulled them off. She shimmied and wiggled to facilitate their removal. I kicked them away, sending our ceiling-sheet with them and leaving Taylor's naked legs fully in the light, where they entwined with my own bare legs. Her skin was soft and warm.

Her hoodie and top were more annoying to deal with. I had to bring them up over her head, forcing her hands from my skin and my mouth from hers. A part of me wished I could just tear through them and not suffer the interruption, but I didn't have Victoria's power, and — No. Don't think about her. Not now. I rushed through the undressing, not savouring it at all. I wasn't in that kind of mood.

After she was down to her underwear, I let my hands wander. For a moment. Then I moved on to my dress. The zipper was awkward to reach, situated in the middle of my back. But I managed it, and slid the dress from my shoulders. I threw it to the side without breaking our kiss.

Then went my underwear. And hers. She shuddered when I pulled her panties off. My fingers may have lingered longer than they strictly needed to. I tried to kiss my way down her neck, but it was awkward, pushed up against the bed and surrounded by pillows as we were.

I grabbed her hand and stood. She stumbled to her feet, catching herself on me to keep from falling. I felt her nipples brushing my skin before she pulled away. My eyes followed.

"Whoa!" she said. I looked up. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at my body. "You're naked!"

Embarrassment peaked. My cheeks coloured as I raised my hands to cover my breasts.

Then Taylor looked down at herself. "Whoa! I'm naked!"

I giggled, leaning up against her again. I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed her, going onto my tippy-toes. She kissed back after only a moment's pause. With stumbling steps, I attempted to guide us onto the bed, but my eyes were closed and my sense of direction was shit. We bumped into a dresser, then into the bedside cabinet, jostling the lamp and alarm clock, before ending up against the wall, flesh pressed against flesh.

Her hands came down to my hips slowly, hesitantly. My skin prickled at the touch. I grabbed her butt — to which she said, "Eep!" — and pulled her toward the bed. We bumped the cabinet again. The alarm clock fell and hit my ankle, and I hissed in pain even as we reached the bed and collapsed sideways. My foot wound up kicking the lamp off too. But I didn't hear anything break, and I couldn't afford the distraction as Taylor turned aggressive.

She rolled on top of me, kneeling over my stomach, and bent down to pepper me with short, pleasing kisses that made me forget the pain in my foot. Our mouths would meet, then she would pull away just far enough and say my name in a breathy voice that only made me wetter, and then she'd be back again, sharing saliva. I got swept up in her rhythm, and soon I was panting her name every other time she pulled away.

I brought my legs up and enjoyed with her body with my hands. One slid up her ribs and played with her nipples while the other made gentle, tentative probing movements at her pussy, soft and wet and fever-hot. She shuddered and gasped against me, bringing a grin to my lips. This was good for my self-confidence. When I started fingering her properly she collapsed on top of me, legs splayed and quaking, unable to maintain her barrage of kisses.

I took up the slack. We rolled over again, this time with me on top. I kissed down her neck to suckle at a nipple and kept playing with her pussy. She wrapped her arms and legs around me, gasping and whimpering and crying my name. Yeah, this was fucking great for my confidence. Taylor's hands pulled me away from her chest and into a deep kiss as her hips spasmed against my fingers. When we broke apart she splayed out flat, panting hard, the bed-sheet twisted into knots beneath her hands.

Did she just... I pushed her further up the bed and held her legs up, leaning down to inspect my handiwork. Her pussy glistened with wetness, further juices splattering her thighs and running down her butt. Holy shit, she came. I did that? Holy shit. I bent down further and gave her pussy a long lick from bottom to top, tasting her most intimate flavour.

I should have waited for her sensitivity to normalise. Her legs jerked closed reflexively and her shin smacked into the side of my head. Hard. I rolled to the side with a groan and massaged my temples. Taylor crawled up alongside me a minute later. "Are you alright?" she said, dropping her head to my chest.

I ran a hand through her hair and nodded slowly. "I'm fine."

Taylor smiled, and opened her mouth to speak, but then her eyes locked onto my breasts, watching as they rose and fell with my breathing. Her gaze flickered back up to me for a moment, then she brought her hands up to play with my meagre boobs, squishing and squeezing and rolling them in circles and pinching at my nipples. I groaned again, this time in a good way. Taylor's smile became a grin. "What should I do?" she said before latching her teeth around one of my nipples and tweaking it with her tongue.

"Whuh?"

Taylor released my nipple with a pop, but she didn't stop playing with my breasts. "How do I do you? I don't really know how this works for girls. Just fingers?"

"Um, co — aah, stop please." Her hands stopped. I bit my lip, a little afraid to ask what I wanted to ask. "C-could you lick me?"

"Down there?" Taylor glanced down at my crotch. "Uh, I can try, I guess." She slid down as I closed my eyes. I felt hands pushing my legs apart, and spread them despite my embarrassment. I covered my face with my hands.

I felt her fingers prodding at my pussy, circling it gently. Her breath on my skin, cool against the wetness. I shivered. Her fingers pried me apart gently, then I felt a hesitant tongue push its way inside, warm and rough. I gave an appreciative moan, and she twisted it inside me, pushing deeper before curling upward. Then she withdrew from me. I waited, but nothing else came.

"Um," I said, opening my eyes. Taylor was facing away from me, her eyes squeezed tight as she held a hand to her mouth and took deep, slow breaths. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. Another deep breath, then she swallowed and turned back to me part-way. "Sorry," she said through her hand. "I don't think I can do that. I don't want to throw up on you."

Dismay pummelled me. Did I taste that bad?

"I don't think — ugh, yeah, those drinks aren't sitting right with me."

Oh. Okay. Thank fuck. "That's alright," I said, dropping my head back down to hide my disappointment.

She crawled up to lie beside me, putting her arms around me and running her fingers across my belly. It tickled. My hand moved to her hip. "Sorry."

I shook my head against hers. Then a thought occurred to me. "I could prob'ly clear it up for you," I said. "The alcohol."

She blinked at me. "How?"

"Flush your... uh, your thingy. The place where drinks go. Put it in your bloodstream or whatever. I think my powers can do that."

"Powers?"

I sat up and looked at her. "Uh, yeah, powers. I'm Panacea."

She blinked again. "Shit. Amy Dallon, duh. I did not put that together."

I stared at her for a long moment, then collapsed in laughter. I heard her start laughing too, but I could only clutch at her shoulders helplessly. One of the few still-functioning parts of my brain tried to tell me this was great, a confirmation that she liked me for me, not for Panacea or her powers; but I didn't have the sense of mind to listen.

I wiped tears from my eyes once I calmed down, lying with my body pressed against hers. She cleared her throat. "Can you do that to yourself?" she said.

"Do what? The alcohol thing?" She nodded. "Nope. My powers don't work on myself."

"Then don't do it to me. I'm not gonna let you be the only drunk one."

That was kinda stupid, and disappointing: she couldn't give me oral now. But it was oddly sweet too. I snuggled up closer.

"Is there something else I could do for you?"

I thought about it. She could always just use her fingers. It's not like I was an oral elitist or anything. But — oh. Maybe... "I've watched a lot of lesbian porn."

"Good to know."

I flushed. "I mean, they use toys a lot, like vibrators and dildos. And strap-on ones. That could be fun."

"Do we have any of those?"

"Um... probably not. But I could, uh... I could make one on you. Like a strap-on but... y'know, part of you, so you could feel it."

She was quiet for a moment. "You mean, like, grow me a penis?"

"I guess," I said, shifting in place. Maybe it was a weird thing to want, but I couldn't count how many times I'd gotten off to the image of Victoria pounding me into the ground. I didn't understand why, but it was seriously hot.

"That sounds weird."

I flushed. Of course, I shouldn't have —

"How long would it last?"

Uh... "Just for a bit. I can get rid of it after."

Quiet again. "Could you make my boobs bigger?"

Now it was my turn to be surprised. "Uh, yeah." I focused my power on her, checked her body for extraneous fat. "Probably not at the same time though."

"Can you do that first?" she said, sitting up and pulling me with her. "Just for a minute?"

I nodded. It wasn't exactly what I wanted, but she seemed willing, and experimenting could be fun. I converted unneeded fat from her belly and thighs, moving it all to her chest — enough to make her noticeably thinner, but not endanger her in any way. Her breasts swelled and grew from A-cups to small C's.

Taylor squealed like a schoolgirl and jumped on me, giving me an almost bone-crushing hug and making me squawk. Her breasts bounced around distractingly, and squished into my face. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she said. "This is so cool." She pulled back and grinned down at me, bringing her hands up to cup her new breasts. "Want to play with them?"

Her smile was infectious, and quieted my impatience. I reached out to juggle her boobs. She laughed; it was probably a new feeling for her. I scooted closer to appreciate my handiwork in detail. Strategic squeezes and nipple tweaks and kisses had her moaning and writhing beneath me. I grinned around a mouthful as an idea hit me.

I reached out with my power and tweaked the sensitivity of her breasts. Then I ran my tongue around her nipple. She shrieked and jumped, her fingernails digging into my back as the shriek became a drawn-out, shaky moan. I teased both nipples at once and she whimpered, lifting off the bed to wrap herself around me completely. I couldn't support her weight, and we fell back to the sheets together.

Her breath came in short gasps. It was immensely arousing in a way that's hard to explain. My impatience peaked, and my hand moved of its own accord, down to finger my own pussy. I reset her sensitivity — I wasn't feeling generous enough to give her two orgasms without any in return. "Can we do the next bit?" I said as I squirmed. "I can't wait much longer."

Taylor sat up and shook her head, eyes blinking into focus. She wiped a bit of drool from her chin. "Can I have the boobs again later?"

I nodded. I had to admit, they were pretty fun to play with. "Anytime you want."

She grinned. "Go ahead," she said and spread her legs for me, revealing a sopping wetness. I wanted to eat her out too, but that could wait for later. I needed to get off now. At this point, it wouldn't take much, but some animalistic part of my mind wanted her inside me. Properly.

So I moved the extra mass from her chest to her crotch and gave her a penis, trying to mimic the internal design from biology textbooks and my somewhat hazy recollections of the men I've touched. Extra skin formed to cover the mass that extended outward, using her clitoris as a base. I converted an ovary into a pair of testes but excluded the scrotum, instead leaving them inside with a tweak to keep them from getting too hot.

On a whim, I added ridges and thin, fake veins to the sides. They must put those on sex toys for a reason, after all. I left the urinary tract where it was and made it permanently erect; she wouldn't have it long enough for such things to matter. I made a few finishing touches, then sat back to see how I'd done.

Whoa, okay, I thought. That is not right. Not even close.

I spent a minute or two tweaking and correcting errors until I was satisfied. It looked right, and it should feel and perform right too. I was very pleased with myself. Another weird thing to be proud of.

"It looks kinda small," Taylor said, staring down at it.

"I can tweak that once I'm comfortable," I said. "I don't wanna start with something too big."

Taylor nodded, flashing a grin at me. "You're smart." I flushed. Taylor poked at her new appendage. "It's kinda embarrassing though. How do we do this?"

"Uh..." I shuffled over and moved her legs a bit, then kneeled over her hips. I wrapped my arms around her neck and met her eyes. She had nice eyes. "Ready?"

She nodded. I reached down to ensure things were angled correctly, then lowered myself onto her. It slid right in. Easy peasy. Maybe it was a little small... A simple tweak and it tripled in length, pushing right up into my very core. Taylor went a little cross-eyed. "Whoa," she said. "That felt weird."

"Yeah," I said, fighting to breathe. That was a little too big for me. Incredibly uncomfortable, and more than a little painful. I shrunk it a bit and kept tweaking until I found the perfect size for me, but even then I had to wait a few minutes for the pain to fade to a manageable level. "Okay. I think we're good now."

Taylor nodded again, and I started moving up and down slowly. It was a weird feeling, but a pleasant one. With each thrust I got more used to it, and it began to feel good. Really good. She went so deep into me I half thought she was about to hit something important. She didn't, but she did hit spots in me I hadn't known existed. One such spot made me squeak and jump enough to fall onto my back, but Taylor followed me down. She wore a grimace of concentration on her face.

"Whus is?" I said. Apparently I couldn't speak properly.

"You feel really good," she said, somehow understanding me. Her voice was strained. "I don't know how to... It's really hot and slippery and... tight. Crazy tight. I'm trying not to come."

A blush reddened my cheeks again. I circled her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. "You don't have to do that," I breathed into her ear. "You can come whenever." She pulled back. Our eyes met. "Now fu — " Oh, dammit. You chicken out there? Say it. "Now fuck me, Taylor."

She did as I asked. She started thrusting into me herself, building up speed, power, until the bed shook beneath us. She was breathing hard, and so was I. Fleshy slaps and wet squelches filled the air as she entered me again and again, driving me past the point of coherent thought.

All I could hear were our moans and grunts and the noise of sex. All I could smell was her. All I could feel was her. To say the world fell away except for the two of us would not be inaccurate. My eyes locked on hers, unable to look away. Not that I wanted to. I pulled her down for more kisses, and then all I could taste was her too. She continued to pound into me, each thrust drawing me closer to the edge of orgasm.

Her expression grew more strained, teeth grit and brow furrowed. She brought a hand down to my pussy, our connection, and teased my clit. My legs tightened involuntarily around her hips, my fingers dug into her shoulders hard enough to draw blood. She did it again and my mind abandoned me.

The pleasure overwhelmed me. Fire ran in my veins. I moaned; she panted. I writhed and bucked against her, desperate as I was for that release. Then she hit the magic spot again, and I came around her with a wail, biting down on her shoulder in some futile attempt to quiet it. She cried out too as she climaxed, her hot cum shooting deep inside me. Both our bodies shuddered from head to toe, and even after the orgasm itself had passed, my legs continued to twitch and shiver.

Taylor collapsed on top of me, eyes bleary. She gave a lazy grin as one hand found mine, fingers intertwining. "That was amazing," she sighed. I grabbed her for another kiss. She moaned appreciatively and nuzzled my neck. "And... exhausting..."

I opened my eyes. Taylor's were closed, her breathing slow and quiet, her exhalations tickling my skin. She was still inside me. But I didn't have the energy to move my own body, much less hers. And my brain wasn't working well enough to remove what I'd grown on her.

I felt strange in that quiet aftermath. Almost as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, something ethereal and heavy. I found myself crying for no reason I could comprehend, but it wasn't a bad cry. I let it run its course.

When I was done, my eyes felt droopy. I didn't have a pillow or a sheet, but... I really didn't want to move.

Fuck it. None of that mattered, not now. I had everything I needed right here.

I turned and snuggled into Taylor's arms. Sleep took me swiftly.

For once, I dreamed good dreams.

There Walked A Man

(Автор: SamPardi)

Four men stood around the street corner. Two were bulging with muscles and stood with the solid stance of experience fighters. Third was a wiry young man with dark circles around his eyes and expensive shoes, he was writing something in a small notebook and muttering to himself. The last of them wouldn't have seemed all that special on his own, muscular but not overly large. However the moon glinted off a wolf mask shaped entirely of blades which marked him as the villain Hookwolf. It chilled the blood of those few around to see it. All were tattooed with various iterations of the triple eight symbol of the Neo-Nazi gang Empire 88, and all had their heads shaved bald.

All four men were surprised when the pair of smoke grenades landed among them and quickly spewed a solid wall of dark grey smoke. There were shouts of surprise followed by shouts of pain and the sound of something hard smacking into flesh.

Hookwolf howled in rage and transformed into a whirlwind of blades, though he was intelligent enough to remain still and simply let the wind he was kicking up disperse the smoke. When the scene cleared he was met with the sight of his fellows laying on the ground, barely breathing while a shadowy silhouette stood above them.

The shadow was a man, broad in the chest and tall but not overly so, dressed in a simple black work shirt and black jeans with grey work boots. A black full head mask with simple orange lenses over the eyes hid the shadow's identity. With deliberate slowness the shadow slid into a defensive stance, a gleaming metal quarter-staff in his hands.

Hookwolf howled and charged. He was a whirling dervish made alive and left deep gouges in the pavement as he rushed towards the shadow like a wave of steel death. The shadow ran sideways, keeping his front to the monster charging him, using the advantage of running at a decline to keep extra speed. Only when his boots splashed into a surprisingly deep puddle of run-off water, left over from a week of regular rain, did he stop. Spurred on by the certainty of his coming victory the Neo-Nazi villain charged all the faster at his stationary foe.

For a long moment the shadow remained still, practically ignoring his metallic foe. When he finally moved it was so fast his limbs nearly blurred. One hand stretched upwards throwing something small and dark, almost invisible in the nighttime environment. So soon afterwards to seem like the same motion he planted his staff and vaulted out of the pool and onto the roof of a parked truck.

The air filled with an audible hum and an odd snap-crack. Despite his well-honed combat reflexes, the danger of the situation didn't occur to Hookwolf until he'd crossed almost half of the flooded depression in pursuit of his prey. Too late he understood the meaning of the two great snakes falling from the sky. He howled in defiance, but as the live power cables hit the water it transformed into a howl of pain of desperation. Despite the danger, the transformer handled the fluctuation with surprising aplomb and kept the power running for almost four minutes before an emergency cut-off finally kicked in due to the instability in the circuit.

Sirens heralding the police filled the air moments later, but the officers that arrived found no shadow waiting there.


* * *

A young redhead shivered despite her sweater as she stood outside the door of a fairly normal sized middle class home. The lawn was unkempt, old paint was peeling away from the walls and the bottom step leading up to the door was rotted and broken. Only the slowly rusting hulk of an old Chevy proved that anyone even lived at the address. With the energy of the annoyed she smashed her fist into the door three times. Her annoyance was only slightly mollified by the shuffling sounds coming from within.

A middle aged man, balding on the crown and wearing a pair of large glasses that made his eyes seem enormous, finally opened the door. "Emma," he tonelessly greeted. She only had a moment to take in his ratty t-shirt and the spot of blood on his pajama bottoms before he disappeared back into the house. Taking that as an unspoken invitation she hurried in, careful to close the door behind herself as she did.

It didn't surprise her at all to find him already back to doing push-ups in the living room. Her eyes however sought out the bloodstain to confirm her suspicions. "Your bleeding," she announced, pointing at the wound.

"One of them had a knife. He didn't get me very deep," Daniel Hebert responded.

"I've been taking nursing classes in the evening. I can take a look at it before I start on breakfast," she told him.

"It's not that bad," he protested.

She glared at him, "bullshit. I know you took out Hookwolf, and I know you think you can take care of yourself, but I am not going to lose you to this city over a cut from some two bit gangster! Deal with it!"

He frowned and his eyes drifted to the scars carved into her cheeks. "Fine," he sighed in defeat. Without any fan-fare he dropped the pajama pants and took a seat on the couch, he still had boxers on so it wasn't like he was showing anything.

After determining that he did, in fact, need stitches and nearly turning green as she had to do them herself, Emma nodded in appreciation of her handiwork. "There, that should — " she interrupted herself by poking him in the ribs, eliciting a hiss. Before he could respond she lifted the base of his shirt and got a good look at the massive bruise in his chest. "And I'm getting you some ice for that." He glared at her but there wasn't much heat in it.

She paused in the hall on the way to the kitchen, catching sight of the portraits that still hung there. One of a dark haired woman who was, perhaps a bit thin, but still was quite a beauty even as she'd reached into her forties. The other was a teenage girl, gawky and ill-fitting in her clothing but the signs were there. Had she been allowed to reach adulthood she might have been a real beauty in her own right. "I'll take care of him," she promised them once more, her voice little more than a whisper. "I'll make sure he remembers he isn't alone just yet..."

It was only a moment though before she returned to her mission. She'd get him his ice, and get him a good breakfast, and he was going to eat it if she had to tie him down and feed him with a tube.


* * *

"You! Ha, this is hysterical! You're nothing! Just a fake. It's a wonder you've managed to keep them all fooled for this long," Jack Slash carried on as he flicked his wrist and cut yet another stripe into Danny's chest. His ceramic plating had been cracked earlier and now decorated the ground, no longer protecting him from the mad-man's telekinetic slashes.

"It doesn't matter," Danny growled out. He kept his head and neck hidden behind his arm so the invisible slashes couldn't simply decapitate him. Even as more cuts developed on his torso and arms his mind worked through his resources looking for some way of solving his problem. Smoke and flash grenades were out, his last HE grenade he couldn't guarantee getting close enough to Jack to hurt him, same with his last two incendiary. The his eyes noticed something inside the building beside them.

His free arm jerked the incendiary free of his belt and he knelt on the pin so he could remove it without his other hand. A solid throw got it through the window he was aiming for and he immediately began to backpedal away from the psychopath. Jack stared at the window in confusion as the incendiary exploded and flames began to lick out of the opening. "Well that was disappointing," he mused.

"For a final act of defiance I'd put it pretty low on the list. Unique though, I do admit. Usually it's people charging at me, or — " His words were cut off by the tanks exploding, and their setting off even another secondary explosion from some source even Danny hadn't seen. The entire building smashed down into the clearing, a rain-basin on top of it spilling out enough water that Danny was briefly caught up in the wave.

There was a brief instant of silence before two points in the chaos stirred. Jack surged to his feet, bricks and water sloughing off him, but surprisingly not much the worse for wear. His shirt and knife were missing, and a scowl of anger twisted his face. The leader of the Slaughterhouse Nine immediately set about searching for his knife. Danny had to struggle, first to his knees and then finally into a hunched stagger towards his target. As he moved he carefully regulated his breath and tried to get his heart rate under control, he'd need to be ready to go at it when he finally reached the psychopath.

Jack's scowl deepened as he couldn't find his knife or even a particularly sharp edged bit of rubble. Finally he abandoned the search, his upgrades made him more than a match for a half-dead normal person. Giving up any pretense of class he charged faster than even most Olympic athletes could imagine towards his prey.

Danny grasped something from the ground with his left hand and then weaved backwards as the serial killer telegraphed a punch. Even then it wasn't quite enough his nose got clipped, easily breaking under the strain. The pain was brutal but Danny forced himself to ignore it. Instead he ducked under the next swing and lashed out with his left arm. Jack had only a second to recoil in surprise before the back of a claw-hammer caught his jaw and dragged it brutally downward. On a normal man the jaw would have simply snapped in a bloody mess, but his enhancements only allowed it to be wrenched open in an excruciatingly wide gape.

Abnormally strong hands caught Danny's inner shoulder area and squeezed, breaking his collarbone in an instant. However he still had one functioning arm and his final action was simple. With a hate-filled smile he tore the HE grenade from his belt and smashed it into the gaping mouth of his attacker and pulled the pin.

Jack reacted on instinct and let go of Danny, stumbling back and scrabbling for a grip on the grenade as he choked. When the grenade exploded even the upgrades devised by Bonesaw were ripped apart and launched through the air. The shock wave liquefied most of the psychopaths inner organs and was so powerful that even Danny was lifted off his feet and thrown several meters into a brick wall with the sickening crunch of breaking vertebrae and ribs.

Danny remained awake just long enough to elicit a painful chuckle, then let himself fall into the darkness. He was content with a job well done.


* * *

It stared up at him with eyes that were unfocused but not quite enough. It was aware. He reached out towards it but let his hand fall before he could touch it.

"I'm sorry! There's nothing I can do! It's too much... It's..." The young brunette was babbling to him. He barely spared her enough attention to notice the torn jeans and blood staining the entire front of her outfit.

"There's only one thing we can do," he heard his own voice. With barely a thought he grabbed a police officer's service revolver off a table that happened to be in reach and aimed between it's eyes. Yet, despite himself, he hesitated.

"Uncle Danny...?" The creature uttered in pseudo-recognition.

"I'm sorry." Despite his tears obscuring his view, he didn't miss when he pulled the trigger.

And then he collapsed as a vision of crystalline beings dancing and entwined filled his mind.


* * *

He stared at the other people in the room. Years ago he'd have gotten up and screamed at them, his temper pushing him into a righteous fury. Weeks ago he'd have started planning their demise, simply adding them to the list of villains he'd one day attempt to take down. Even yesterday he would have given them a harsh negation and walked out of the room. None of those were today though. Today he understood. He understood them better than they understood themselves. All of their strengths... And all of their flaws.

And he was weary. Exhausted. Not in body, Panacea had been gracious enough to take care of that, but in spirit. While it wasn't the raw grief he'd felt when he'd been called down to the coroner's office to identify the charred corpses of his wife and his beautiful, vibrant, chatterbox of a daughter... They were of a kind.

He was so tired. And after only an hour he had no more patience for these people and their bullshit.

"He's enraged, far ahead of schedule. Your shard can communicate with him. We just need you to buy us enough time to gather the people necessary," Alexandria stated in a terse tone.

"Right. Just drop me off in front of him," Danny answered, too tired to make an argument of it.

A bright white door opened and a few steps later he was standing on a hill overlooking... something. Really it was one thing to hear them talk of the otherworldly nature of these creatures, a whole other to see this garden of crystalline stuff. Only a few feet away floated a figure of solid gold, even motionless it radiated rage and loss. With a few steps he walked up beside it. For a few seconds he kept his peace as he tried to decide what to say, but finally it just came out.

"I know how you feel."

So many people had fed him similar trite lines after his wife had died. This, though, wasn't a mere line. His memories of the corpse of his wife, unrecognizable from the flames flowed through him. The way it's damaged mouth had leered up at him in a twisted mockery of the kind smile she'd worn before. His disbelief at how it was ended... Hell that it was ended. And his grief. Deep and black and how he hadn't believed he'd ever feel anything again but that tearing sensation in his heart. All of that flowed with his words like an under-current.

It turned and looked at him and he was almost crushed under the response. It was not words, images, emotions, or information, it was more, so much more, and yet... less too. But all the same he understood its disbelief and its scorn, and its grief, and its wrath, and its desire to lash out.

Danny reached into a pocket and pulled out a picture. It was a reprint, the original had been destroyed long ago but he'd kept a dozen copies so he'd have her with him no matter what. Now he held out the image of his wife, laughing with joy on the day she'd discovered she was pregnant. "This is her." Again all of his longing and loss flowed beneath his words.

The golden man stared at the picture for a long moment. Finally he looked back at the grotesque garden and lifted a hand. Above his digits a crystalline creature reminiscent of a snake appeared and swam through the air, the details were exquisite. Despite its alien nature it was easy to appreciate how beautiful the creature must have been in life. "She's beautiful."

They were silent for another span. Finally it radiated a sort of curious disbelief filled with pain.

"It doesn't seem possible at first. But one day bleeds into another. Then... Then you get up, and put on your pants, and go punch a nazi in the face. It may not be exactly what she would have wanted, but its how you get by," Danny replied.

It suddenly swung an arm and the crystalline valley lit with an unnatural golden fire, made all the more beautiful by the sun setting in the distance behind it. They watched, somberly, as the last of the alien's earthly remains were reduced to ash. When the show finally ended they were standing in the dark, under a carpet of stars thicker and fuller than any he'd ever seen his life.

"I will think on what you said, Danny Hebert," the golden man suddenly spoke in plain English. "But for now. I wish to be alone." And then it was gone.

Danny just nodded in acceptance and laid down on his back to watch the stars.

Alone

(Автор: Angush)

Preface: A different sort of Taylor/Amy. Moderate AU in that Golden Morning happened in 2006, went quite differently, and Taylor and Amy never triggered. This is July 2015, after Taylor's birthday but before Amy's, so they're both 20. There's a bunch of elements here that didn't all come together that well. But it was a fun experiment, if not an overly successful one. It may have been affected by the... somewhat barebones narration and characterisation, which I guess is what happens when I try to do something like this in a day (even if it took two in the end and I totally forgot to post it again <.<). (5,105 words)


* * *

Dr. Sen and I burst into the hallway, keeping pace with the orderlies pushing the hospital bed. I removed what little remained of the PRT trooper's helmet and armour, exposing his wounds and lumping the remnants at the foot of the bed. Dr. Sen snapped instructions at another nurse to prep the OR and turned to question the other PRT trooper opposite the bed while she looked over our patient. "What happened?"

"He took the brunt of the explosion," the other trooper was explaining. "We launched a raid on the Boston Boys, but I think they were expecting us or something and — "

"Amy!" Dr. Sen said, cutting the trooper off and looking at me. "I count two gunshot wounds. Stomach and thigh." I nodded and moved to inspect the injuries — thigh first, in case the bullet had nicked an artery — and Dr. Sen turned back to the trooper woman. "What explosion? Was there debris?"

It took the woman a moment to realise Dr. Sen was talking to her. "They blew up the wall."

"Was there debris?"

"Oh, uh, yes, sorry," the trooper woman said. "The wall was made of concrete, and he got showered in it. Maybe some rebar and glass, too. He was right next to the wall when it went up."

Dr. Sen nodded as we turned into an operating room. She stopped before we entered and pulled the trooper woman aside. The orderlies took care of transferring the injured man to the table, and I began intubation while another pair of nurses stripped him, started cleaning his wounds, and connected him to the medical monitor.

"Any other injuries?" Dr. Sen asked, going through the hygiene preparation. "Did he engage with any parahumans?"

The trooper shook her head. "They blew the wall the minute the operation started, and Gordon spent the whole thing on the ground. If he was hit by anything else, I didn't see it."

"Thank you." The doctor slipped on a surgery mask and pointed to a chair. "You can wait there," she said, then joined the rest of us in the OR. But the trooper didn't sit. Instead, she stood by the window and watched.


* * *

Gordon Manning went into cardiac arrest halfway through surgery. The hospital's attempts to resuscitate failed, and Dr. Sen declared the patient dead at 6:03 P.M.

The duty of informing his family would be left to the PRT.

And thank god for that, I thought, peeling off my blood-stained gloves. I glanced over at Manning's colleague, currently being told the news by Dr. Sen. I didn't think that was really necessary, given that the woman had seen everything that happened in the OR through the window, but I suppose tradition carried a strong weight. I wondered idly if the trooper would have to pass along the news herself. I don't envy your job, lady.

The trooper nodded at something Dr. Sen said, and the doctor patted her armoured shoulder, then left. Slowly, the trooper sank into the chair by the wall — the first time she'd sat since I'd seen her. She didn't move as the other nurses and I cleaned ourselves up, and she didn't make a sound when an orderly came to move Manning's body. It was only after we had all left the room that I, the last person out, heard the woman cry.


* * *

The last two hours of my evening shift were not quite so exciting. I hooked a sleeping stabbing victim up to an IV and ran a few errands for the doctors, then spent the rest of my time fluffing pillows and making sure people were comfortable. Busywork, yes, but enough to keep my mind from drifting to unsavoury places.

The clock on the wall ding-dong'd at eight o'clock, and I wasted no time making my way to the changing rooms, waving to Sam and Joe — just starting their own evening shifts — as I passed. Then, with my scrubs thrown in the wash basket and my regular clothes once again adorning my body, I left.

The parking lot was foggy and cold, filled mostly with tents instead of cars, and most of the cars that were there were being used as shelter; Brockton Bay's population — though it wasn't really a bay anymore — had exceeded its housing capacity for years now, and working cars were expensive: more of a luxury than the necessities they once had been.

Golden Morning had hit all industries hard, but oil was ultimately less necessary and more difficult to produce than many other things, so the effort had not yet been put forward. What little fuel people had was either imported from off-world — and therefore, expensive enough that only bigger groups, like the union that ran my hospital, could afford it in any useful quantity — or made by parahumans — and therefore, probably belonging to one of the gangs.

I nodded at a few of the refugees gathered around a giant pot on a fire, filled with bubbling soup. They raised inquisitive eyebrows and gestured, inviting me to join, but I continued past them and onto the street, where my feet weaved a path around the shattered and broken areas without any conscious thought on my part. I'd walked this road a thousand times.

I pulled a cigarette from my pouch and lit it with a match, taking a long drag and releasing the smoke into the air with a dry chuckle. It said a lot about humanity that vices like cigarettes had been one of the first things the people of Bet had clamoured to resurrect. And alcohol, of course. Breweries and distilleries had been intensely profitable in those first few years. But then, that didn't really surprise me. Everyone needed their vices. I certainly did.

"Amy!" someone called.

I stopped and turned to see Emily Guzman hurrying down the street. I sighed. This again. "What?"

Emily stopped in front of me and laughed in between her panting breaths. "Are — shit, I should really start exercising more. You're goin' to the Tap, right?"

"Yes," I said, turning and starting down the street again.

Emily followed. "I thought so," she said. "You always do." Then she grinned and slid an arm around my shoulders, leaning in close to murmur in my ear. I felt her breasts press against my arm and tried to ignore them. "So is this the night you finally give in to my seductions? Let me take you home?"

I pushed her arm away. "No. I told you last time: I don't date coworkers."

"Yeah, but I'm not talking about dating. I'm talking about sex."

"Doesn't matter. The answer's still no."

Emily groaned dramatically, leaning her head back. "Playing hard-to-get is only hot to a certain point, y'know. My patience is not everlasting."

"Still no."

"Oh, hold on," Emily said, grinning again. "I see, I see. You're worried I'll ruin you for other girls, hmm? I can go easy with you, if you want."

"Never gonna happen, Emily."

"Aw, c'mon Ames, there's nothing — "

I stopped and snapped around to face her. "Don't call me that!"

Emily jumped. "Whu — what?"

"You called me Ames," I said, glaring. "Don't."

"Uh... okay," Emily said, looking down at her feet. She shifted. "Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, I just... Sorry."

"I don't care. Just don't call me that again." I turned and continued walking down the street. But my anger cooled as quickly as it had came, and I looked back to see Emily shuffling uneasily beneath the cold light of the street-lamps. Don't be a bitch, Ames. Throw a girl a bone. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Emily!"

She looked up.

"I'll see you on Thursday," I said.

She smiled. "See you on Thursday!" she agreed, then waved at me and ran off into the night.

I continued down the street.


* * *

The Tap was a reasonably large bar, about two blocks from the hospital and a ten minute walk from my apartment. It was also just across from the market square, so most days it saw little to no gang activity and lots of regular folk coming and going: travellers moving through town and stopping for a night of warmth and companionship; trading caravans popping in to pawn off their best liquors and steaks; and of course, the constant stream of refugees as other settlements collapsed, caught in the constant warmongering that Bet's warlords seemed to obsess over.

I liked it, and I don't like many things. It was quaint. Part of that may have been the endless flow of newcomers also making one-night-stands a little easier. But still, most nights I slept alone, so I had to like the place for more than the prospects.

I took a seat at the bar. Ken brought me my usual order, and I sipped it while I scanned the crowd. I dismissed the regulars, laughing and carousing at their tables, and searched for women I didn't recognise. The pickings weren't amazing tonight. A busty girl with pink and blue-dyed hair played darts with a lanky man by the bathrooms — maybe a couple, maybe not. It didn't matter: I wasn't going to insert myself to find out, no matter how hot she was.

An equally well-endowed blonde sat at a table, almost perfect. I longed to go and speak to her, to ask her name and hear her voice and invite her to share my bed. But she was smiling demurely and talking quietly with a young man who had his hand on her knee, and I knew I couldn't have her.

Ken brought me a second glass, and a third, before I settled on a brunette seated at the bar; alone, like me. Not blonde, and not my usual type, but she'd be pretty enough in the right light. I walked over to her and leaned against the bar. "Excuse me," I said. She looked at me and I smiled. "Can I buy you a drink?"

She stared at me for a long few seconds. Her eyes were red-rimmed, like she'd been crying recently. It probably says bad things about me that that made me more attracted to her. "Are you hitting on me?"

"Yes," I said.

She blinked in obvious disbelief, then laughed, and I felt my smile widen. "Okay," she said. "Sure, why not. First time for everything, right?" She held up a glass filled with something dark and swished it around. "Though I'm not done with this one yet."

I sat on the stool beside her. "Then I'll buy the next one," I said, and held out a hand. "I'm Amy."

She shook my hand, still smiling. "Taylor. It's a pleasure."

"Likewise. So..." I raised an eyebrow at her. "First time for everything?"

She gave me a sidelong glance and grinned. "Yeah. I've never been picked up at a bar before."

I grinned back. "Then I'll try to set a good baseline."

Taylor chuckled and sipped at her drink, looking at me curiously. "You were one of the nurses, weren't you?"

I froze. "What?"

"At the hospital. You were one of the nurses that tried to save Gordon. I thought I'd seen you before." She looked down at her glass and twisted it in her hands. "Thank you."

"Uh... don't thank me," I said, casting my memory back. "I was just doing my job. You... you're the other trooper?"

Taylor nodded. "Yeah."

I quieted, feeling uncomfortable. "Sorry for your loss," I said. Then I sat in silence for a moment, shifting in my seat. "Um. I — sorry, I shouldn't be trying to pick you up right now. I'll, uh, I'll leave you — "

"No," Taylor said, grabbing my hand as I stood to leave. She met my eyes. "If I wanted you to leave, I would've told you so. Besides — " She held up her drink, still half full. " — you said you'd buy me my next drink, and I'm still not done this one."

I looked at her, then sat down again. She didn't let go of my hand until I glanced down at it — though if she hadn't released me, I wouldn't have minded. I wasn't sure what else to say. The doctors usually dealt with the patients' families and loved ones, not me; I was just a nurse, and I wasn't even professionally trained like some of the others were.

"I didn't know him very well," Taylor said, looking down at her glass again. "Gordon, I mean. I'm — I'm pretty new. I only signed up a few months ago, finished training in May. Gordon had to teach our class on gun safety, `cos the regular guy was sick. He wasn't a great teacher. Bit of an asshole, really. But today..." She looked at me. "Did you hear what happened today? I think you were there when I told the doctor."

"Um... the Boston Boys, wasn't it?"

Taylor nodded. "They robbed a shipment from Soleica three days ago, just outside town. Medical supplies, I think. Like, needles and painkillers and stuff. It's not a very exciting story. My CO tells me we got a tip from a reputable source about where they were keeping the loot, but that they apparently had the back door rigged to explode when it was opened. Gordon swapped places with me before we started, `cos it was only my second mission and he said the rookies ought to be at the rear."

She looked away. "We didn't even get the shit back."

She lapsed into silence, and I didn't say anything to break it. All that came to mind was `sorry for your loss,' but I'd already said that. Besides, it was nothing but a platitude. And I hated platitudes. So I stayed quiet.

Taylor lifted her drink and downed the rest of it in one motion, leaving only ice. She planted the glass on the bar and wiped her mouth with one hand, then looked at me. "Now. We can order me a new drink and talk about something a little less depressing, or..." She leaned forward and laid a hand on mine. "We can find somewhere more private and skip the small stuff." She smiled. "It's up to you."

I narrowed my eyes and fought off a smile of my own. "Is that some sort of test?" I asked jokingly. "Trying to see if I'm interested in you or your body?"

"I don't think you're particularly interested in either," Taylor said. "But I don't mind. I could do with some stress relief, and I think maybe you could too."

I quieted again, appraising her and hoping I was adequately concealing my surprise. She'd read me like a book. "What if I pick the wrong answer?"

Taylor chuckled, spinning her empty glass in her fingers. "There is no wrong answer, Amy."

"Oh?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "And what if I said I wanted to sit here and talk? Would that take sex off the table?"

"Of course not," she laughed. "They're not mutually exclusive. The order doesn't matter as much as people would like it to. And if I get my way, we'll do both."

I pursed my lips, thinking about what she'd said. I glanced down at her hand on mine and ran a thumb along her fingers. It almost felt like she was picking me up. That was unusual.

My eyes moved up her arms. There was more muscle there than I'd expected. She probably could pick me up, physically speaking. That could be fun.

Taylor trapped my thumb with hers and smiled at me. "So? Which are we gonna do first?"


* * *

I unlocked the door to my apartment and led Taylor inside. Leaving my shoes by the entrance, I walked to the kitchenette, which was maybe a half-dozen strides from the door. My apartment wasn't very big.

"Welcome to my humble abode," I said, spreading my arms and gesturing about me. I grabbed a pair of cups from the cupboard and put them on my tiny, tiny, kitchen counter. "It's not much, I know, but nurses didn't make great money even before Golden Morning. I can't afford much more than this."

I retrieved some wine from the fridge and poured us a cup each, then carried them over to my fold-out dining table where Taylor had taken a seat. She looked around, counting the doors under her breath. "Two bedrooms?" she said when I sat beside her. "Do you have a roommate?"

I glanced at the pink-and-purple-painted door behind her, set a few feet from the door to my bedroom. "No," I said. "Just me."

"Maybe you should get one," Taylor said, sipping her wine. "Someone to help out with the rent. I have two roommates, myself."

"Maybe."

Taylor glanced at me. "Which room's yours?"

I stood and walked over to the other bedroom door, painted red and white. Taylor deposited her knife and gun on the table and followed. Both bedrooms were the same size, and my double bed took up most of the space here, leaving only enough room for a bedside cabinet, a closet — though only one door could open all the way — and a messy pile of books in one corner.

We sat on the edge of my bed, putting our cups on the floor by the door. "I like it," Taylor said, lying back to rest on her elbows. "Your place, I mean. It feels lived in."

I leaned back a bit, too, quirking an eyebrow at her. "I'm not sure `lived in' is really a compliment."

She laughed and dropped fully onto the bed, closing her eyes and sighing at the softness. "Well, I mean it like one," she said. The old analog clock on the wall outside my door tick-tock'd softly in the silence that followed. Then Taylor opened her eyes and smiled at me. "So are you going to kiss me, or am I gonna have to do it?"

That made me giggle — I haven't done that in years. We locked eyes as I leaned forward, planting my hands on either side of her to support myself. "I was waiting for you to ask for it," I said. Then I kissed her.

We started slow, gentle: lips joining, tongues probing, testing and tasting, then repositioning for a new angle. I liked to start that way, to get a sense for how my partner kissed. We didn't speak, but Taylor seemed to enjoy it, if there was any indication in the way her hands ran along my sides, riding my clothes up my belly; or the way her legs rubbed and entwined in mine, feet and toes curling and locking my hips against hers; or the way she moaned playfully and angled her head to meet me more firmly.

Taylor's hands wrapped around my neck, fingers catching strands of my hair between them. It hurt a little. But pain was good, in small doses: it made me feel awake. Though I did have to shift onto my knees to stop her from pulling me down.

I took advantage of my new position to run my hands up her belly. She gave a short giggle at the way my fingers brushed her skin. Her flesh was warm and soft, but firmer than what I was used to, her stomach more muscle than flab. I pushed her shirt up and fumbled at her bra, then pulled back to see. Her breasts were small, but not the smallest I've held. I squeezed them gently, rolling the flesh between my fingers, teasing her hardened nipples. This time, Taylor's answering moan was more sexy than playful. I liked it.

She pulled my head down again and kissed her way down my jaw, suckling in a way that made my breath catch and my body shiver. She unwrapped one arm from my neck and pulled at my shirt, and I wiggled a bit to help her along. She threw my top to the side and sat up, pushing me back so I was on her lap. Then she removed my bra and starting playing with my breasts the same way I was playing with hers.

My breath was starting to come quicker, and I heard hers accelerate too, felt it through my hands on her chest and her mouth on my neck. I arched into her, she arched into me. I bit her ear and pinched her nipples, making her jump. She growled, a low and lustful sound from deep in her throat, and then I felt her smile through her kisses as she returned the favour, making me jump and giggle again.

I felt a moment of sadness when Taylor pulled my hands away from her chest, but it was gone the moment her strong arms encircled my back, pulling me tight and close against her. Then she pushed me over, following me down until I was on my back and she was on top of me, the reverse of how we'd started.

Her nipples pressed against my body and trailed along as she slid downwards, slow and methodical, stopping every second to kiss and suckle pleasingly at my skin. I pulled her top off her completely as she went, then moved my hands to her breasts again, squeezing and pinching harder than before. She twitched as I caught her nipples between my nails, then she growled again and tightened her embrace, lifting my belly up. Then set her mouth to my tit and suckled, her tongue and teeth working in tandem to toy with my nipple.

I groaned and writhed beneath her, our legs intertwining until I couldn't tell where I ended and she began. Taylor's hands slid down my back, slipping beneath the waist of my jeans and squeezing my butt. My toes curled, and I found my hands clutching her shoulders, my nails digging into her skin.

She pulled her hands out and unzipped my pants. She yanked them off without moving her mouth from my breast, then threw hers aside too. I heard our wine cups spill, but paid it no mind, wiggling my hips as her hands trailed up my legs, leaving tingling gooseflesh in their wake.

I pulled her head away from my chest. I missed it immediately — she was awfully good at using her teeth there — but I wanted to kiss her more, so kiss her I did. Our tongues met and curled around each other, and we moaned into each other's mouths. And then her hands were at my hips, her fingers picking at the edges of my lace panties. I shuddered in anticipation, feeling the heat and desire in my core compound, my pussy growing wetter almost in exponents.

Taylor peeled my panties away slowly, painfully so. She trailed them down my legs, her feather-light touches making me shiver again and again. After what seemed like an eternity, she abandoned my underwear, halfway down my thighs, before returning to where she knew I wanted her. Her fingers played about the outskirts of my pussy. But she refrained from actually touching me.

I groaned and shuddered again, then made my displeasure clear by biting her lip hard. She sucked air in through her teeth in pain, and I released her. She panted against my mouth for a moment, then dove forward to resume kissing me, and finally gave me what I wanted, slipping her fingers into my quivering pussy. I lost my voice, and with it my breath.

Most girls I brought home weren't great at taking the lead, but in that moment I wished more of them were — it felt so good, so wonderful, to let her control me like this, to give myself over to another woman. So I left myself to her ministrations, let her ravage my body however she wished. My arms and legs trembled as her fingers drove deeper and deeper within me, the air around us filled with nothing but the sounds and smells of sex.

Her fingers made a mockery of my mind, bereaving me of my ability to think, and I loved it. Our kisses became stilted, our need for oxygen forcing us to break apart every other second for gasping breaths. I found my hands scrambling madly at her panties, almost tearing them in my fight to get them off her hips. Then they were gone, and I did what I could to return the favour, slipping my own fingers into her equally wet pussy. She gasped into my mouth then doubled down on my pussy, making me gasp back.

She fucked me like a master. I fucked her like a rookie, unable to focus all my efforts on her. But she didn't seem to mind. Our bodies pressed together tightly, the both of us slick with sweat. Our nipples touched and bumped, and our knees banged together as we bucked and ground against each others' hands. We gasped and groaned and mewled together. My fingers spread her pussy as my thumb teased her clit and my other hand squeezed her ass hard — all while she did the same exact things to me.

Then she kissed me again and I came, whining and wailing into her mouth as my pussy gushed and squirted my innermost juices onto her hand — and our legs, pressed together as close as we were. I trembled from head to toe, my vision glazing over and my back arching up as if I could somehow squeeze our bodies even closer, though I couldn't, with her on top of me.

The haze cleared. Taylor dropped her head to my neck. I could feel her breathing as hard as I was, and I belatedly realised she was also trembling a little. I pulled my fingers from her pussy and brought them up to my face for inspection. My palm was coated in glimmering wetness, down to my wrist. She'd come too, despite my attentions being somewhat... lacking. She must be sensitive. Or out of practice.

I glanced down at her. She smiled, then noticed my hand. An idea occurred to me as I returned the smile. I popped my fingers into my mouth, sucking her juices from my skin and enjoying the taste, not taking my eyes from hers. I made an effort to be as noisy as possible. She watched silently for a minute, then she pulled her fingers out of my pussy — a feeling that made me twitch, as sensitive as I still was — and raised them to her mouth, where she began licking my excretions from between her fingers slowly, sensually.

It was sexy. And it made me horny again.

I finished licking my hand clean, then reached down and pulled my panties all the way off, throwing them off the bed. I pushed Taylor over so that she lay on her back, then rolled on top of her. "Oh?" she said, raising an eyebrow at me.

In lieu of answering, I kissed my way down her body, hooking my hands around her thighs and raising her butt up, leaving her twitching, cum-soaked pussy spread before me, easily accessible.

Taylor laughed softly. "You're insatiable."

I grinned.


* * *

I woke up in the middle of the night. A girl lay beside me in my bed, snoring softly, her naked body pressed against mine. She was warm. It took me a minute to remember her name. I ran a hand down her side, stopping on her hip. She shifted a little closer to me and mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep.

Her splayed-out hair tickled my skin. It looked almost gold in the dim light that seeped from beneath my door.

I closed my eyes and took slow, deep breaths. I lay there in the darkness for a long, long while. But I couldn't get back to sleep.

I sighed and extracted my arm from beneath Taylor's body, then crawled off the bed as quietly and gently as I could. She didn't wake up. I eased open my closet and dressed myself in some plain clothes and underwear — not my lace ones; I only had so many of those, and I wasn't going to seduce anyone now — then I left the room, closing the door behind me.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Four in the morning. I yawned and made my way to the dining table, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from a cabinet by the wall as I went, then scribbled out a short note addressed to Taylor, apologising for leaving before she woke up and asking her to lock the front door when she went home. I placed my spare key on top of the note for her.

Then I slipped my shoes on and left.

I wasn't worried about her stealing anything. She was a PRT officer, and the most valuable thing in my apartment — at least to a thief's mind — was the fridge.

My feet carried my through the ruined streets. I saw a group of men drinking together by the mouth of an alley. But I gave them a wide berth, and they didn't bother me. I made my way through the parking lot again, past the tents filled with sleeping refugees, and entered the hospital.

It was quiet, this early. At this time of day, most of the gangbangers were still asleep, as were their would-be victims, so there wasn't much activity. A woman argued with one of the attendees behind the front desk. She looked like a drug addict. Her cheeks were gaunt and her body was thin to the point of malnutrition, and her arms were dotted with puncture marks.

I ignored her and walked around the front desk, passing a teenager sat in the waiting room rubbing an old man's back as he coughed into his fist. I went into the nurses' call room and knocked on the doorframe.

Sam was there; he looked up. "Amy?" he said, scratching at his beard. "It's only Wednesday, hun. Your shift's tomorrow."

"I know," I said. "I'm just here to visit."

"Ah." He nodded. "Well, don't let me keep you, then."

I thanked him and made my way to the second floor, to the coma ward. The room wasn't as full as you'd expect — most folk couldn't afford to pay to keep people on the plug. Hell, I could barely afford it myself, even with the two discounts the Administrator gave me. But...

I pushed past one of the privacy partitions and sat on Victoria's bed.

...I just couldn't bring myself to shut her off.

The Party

(Автор: Coruscant Knave)

Theo studied the bottom of the plastic cup he'd held for the better part of the evening. It was finally nearing empty; just a drizzle of cheap, amber liquid left. If he was being honest with himself, this was what he'd expected. Oh, he'd told himself this time would be different. It was a normal party with normal people. No stress or expectations, no one hovering near him and judging his every action and no reason to second guess the motivations of every person he met. A chance to actually get to know some people his age he might be able to make friends with, or more.

The surprisingly diverse party wasn't exactly crowded, but there were definitely more people than one would think could fit in the moderate home. It made it hard to approach anyone. Combined with music he didn't recognize and a chaperone that abandoned him to the nearest wall almost immediately, he could only count the minutes until it was time to leave.

He looked up from his little world to scan the room for said chaperone. Ruth, Rune he reminded himself, danced clumsily between two Hispanic men. They were not shy, and she pressed back against them eagerly. He'd asked her, upon arrival and witnessing the makeup of the party, what they were doing in such company. Such a loaded question would hold a completely different meaning to her, but she diplomatically avoided the issue.

A vision in red blocked the scene, a woman making her way toward him. Her hair trailed behind her as she moved and her figure filled the designer dress effortlessly. The brand, something his father's dates had worn at the kinds of parties he was no longer invited to, should have either marked her as the center of attention or a pariah. Most of the others wore simple jeans and t-shirts. Instead, she was either ignored or moved smoothly by those that knew her with quick gestures and words. All the while, her gaze never left his direction, and it was all he could do to pretend he didn't notice.

There was no logical reason anyone would approach him here, let alone someone like this woman. The bottom of his cup held no answers.

Beyond her steady approach, Ruth had come back into view. She grinned and gave two thumbs up before one of her partners pulled her back.

Well, that made as much sense as anything, and it wouldn't be the first time. Was it pictures of his father on her phone, hints about his pedigree and prospects, or did she tell the stupid cape lie again?

A million different denials, scathing shutdowns, and benign excuses died on his tongue when the girl finally came to a stop in front of him.

Her smile evened out when he continued ignoring her. She craned her head this way and that to try and get him to look back before giving up with a little pout. Against his better judgement, he finally turned toward her in acknowledgement. He studied a smattering of freckles around her nose that seemed to glow.

"Hey. I haven't seen you around these things before. Do you know Cadence or something?"

"No," he replied, "Ruth brought me." As if she didn't know.

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up and he nearly made contact with them, but the effect it had on her smile was also difficult to look at directly. He was trapped. "She's so nice. I haven't spoken to her much, but we end up at a lot of the same parties. I'm Emma, by the way." She extended her hand and he took it on reflex in a brief, curt shake.

"Is that so," he said, and if she noticed his incredulity it didn't show. Was he wrong about her, or was she just really good at this? "It's my first time attending... one of these."

"I know what you mean," she leaned in, her voice quieter despite an increase in enthusiasm. "I hate slumming it, but you've gotta keep up connections somehow, right? It's one thing to stay in touch with the kinds of people I meet while modeling, but I also need to make appearances with the people I got to school with. It's really tiring." Her eyes traveled up and down his outfit before she finally leaned back.

Any doubts that she knew about his... upbringing died then. She was working an angle, sizing him up for a feast. It didn't mean she was lying, per se, but she was definitely leaning on the elitism to try and make inroads with him. It was his first chance at something normal, away from his family, but here he was: wasting it. Not only that, but someone was trying to take advantage of him.

"Say," the redhead stepped closer, putting a hand on his arm, "I didn't catch your name...?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon, don't be like that! Let's see... Vince, maybe?" She considered his expression for a moment before bringing a finger to her chin. "No, not a Vince. Alexander? Seth? Robert? Teddy?"

Whatever reaction he gave, she caught immediately, pushing herself closer and placing a hand on his chest. She was nearly bouncing.

"I prefer Theo," he sighed. She wasn't going to go away. He was trapped between her and the wall.

"Aww, but Teddy is a such a cute name," his admission of defeat gave her even more energy, and her words didn't match her tone. "It really suits you, too."

Was that a fat joke? She was giving up all pretenses and just assuming he'd do whatever she wanted, now.

"It was a compliment, jeez."

"Sure it was, matchstick."

"Holy shit, there's a person in there," she said in mock surprise before laughing at her own joke. "Finally. Maybe now we can have an actual conversation. I've been so bored since my friend ditched me."

"Yeah, I know how much that sucks." Ruth was still nowhere to be seen.

"Oh my god, right? At least mine had a decent excuse. Ruth's been bouncing from guy to guy all night. Pretty messed up... oh god, I didn't even... you aren't, like, in to her, are you?"

Theo tried to hold back his laugh but snorted instead, then laughed anyway. He had to wipe away tears when he was finished. Emma just regarded him patiently until he was done, matching him with a smile.

"I'll take that as a no, then."

"Nope. I've known Ruth for too long — and know too much about her — to think of her that way. She's a... family friend."

"Ooh. Well, that sounds like a `later' story. I look forward to squeezing it out of you." She took the forgotten cup out of his hand, setting it down, before pulling him away from the wall. "But now, Teddy, we dance."

Like before, the denials died in his throat. There was something refreshing about a person whose intentions were known and predictable. Was it still manipulation if he knew in advance? Was he the scumbag if he knew she would be expecting some connection or favor in the future but had no intention of delivering?

He stopped thinking about it when they mixed with the other dances and she began to move against him.

Theo still didn't recognize the music. He knew several dances. He wasn't good at them, but he knew them. None of those really helped here, and neither did turning to the guys around him. He'd be hard pressed to call what they were doing dancing, and that was without counting those that were obviously drunk and stumbling.

So he kept it simple, swaying and bobbing and working in a move or two when it seemed appropriate. No one stopped and stared or laughed at any point he could tell, and Emma never missed a beat or gave an odd look. She did most of the moving, anyway, and most of that amounted to grinding on him.

It was starting to have the expected effect on him, and she definitely noticed. She stuck even closer to him, ass in his crotch and wrapping his own hands around herself. She guided them over her body for a bit before he took over, groping and pawing at the flesh under her dress. He'd expected her to recoil or pull away at any moment to admonish him, but she just grew more enthusiastic.

"I'm glad you're having as much fun as I am," she said during a slow build in the music. It seemed to do this a lot; evening out to a low, steady beat before building up to some raucous chorus.

"Yeah," he was speaking before he realized it, "me too." There wasn't going to be a better opportunity, and he wasn't sure he could make it through another session like that. "But do you want to go somewhere a little quieter?"

"Sure," Emma said, surprising him.

One foot in front of the other led them to an unoccupied bedroom. Theo wasn't sure how he'd found it or how it could possibly be empty this late in the party, but he was not going to argue. With a gesture, Emma entered first and made her way to the bed. From the doorway, he admired her as she went; her posture and gait seeming to gain confidence and allure once she'd passed him. She spun around and fell back on to the bed, barely holding herself up with arms behind her. She looked back at him and waited.

There was no one else in the hallway, no one to stop him or even see who he was with. The music was loud again around the corner, more bass and vibration now than lyrics or rhythm.

"Well?" She asked, and he jumped a bit at the sound. There was some lit to the tone, but he couldn't tell if it was mocking or nervous. He thought she looked more nervous, now, though.

"Yeah, sorry." The apology came easily, and he nearly cursed himself out loud immediately after. He'd made it this far, somehow, and he'd need to keep up some faГade of confidence if he was going to finish it. He stepped in to the room and closed the door behind him, hand pausing halfway to the wall before coming back down. There was just enough light coming in from the cracks to keep from tripping; it was probably for the best to leave them off. She didn't object.

He approached steadily and sat down next to her. Their thighs were touching slightly, and he had to fight the urge to slide away. It didn't seem to bother her, since she sat up and put her shoulder to his. They were fairly close in height when she didn't have the advantage her heels gave her. They gave her other advantages too, and the silence dragged on between them while the thought of them provided an easy distraction.

"Um," she spoke quiet and close, breaking the spell.

"Sorry," he repeated, instantly clenching his fists in response to his mouth's betrayal.

The motion brushed his hand against her leg and she leaned closer, putting a hand around his waist. He did the same before he could think better of it, and a small breath escaped her, tickling his neck. She kept getting closer somehow, even though they'd started sitting as close as he could imagine getting.

His hand ran up and down her side while she brought one of hers to his chest. Her dress was so tight on her slight frame that it could hardly wrinkle under his touch. His shirt, however tailored it was, rolled and bunched as she explored. It needed to be loose enough to give any kind of illusion he might be a decent shape. Leaving the lights off had been the best decision, even if it meant he didn't get to see much of her.

He turned to try and see what he could, but found her leaning over to meet him.

As first kisses went, it probably could have been worse. Her smell filled his nose, and it was a sweet but understated mix of fruity shampoo, a dab of inoffensive perfume, and just a hint of perspiration from their dancing. He became acutely aware of his own sweat, but it was too late to worry about that.

Emma started to pull back, and he worried maybe he had bad breath or something on top of everything else, but she reversed almost as quick. The kiss resumed as she pulled him closer with a fistful of his shirt. He somehow picked up on the signal and opened his mouth to hers, tongues coming together.

They laid the rest of the way down on the bed, still clutching at each other and continuing the kiss. He found himself partway on top, pushing down on her as much as she was pulling. Her tits filled his hands completely, marking their size. Like the kiss, he didn't have any other experiences to compare it to, but playing with them was every bit as fun as he'd imagined. She pushed herself into his grip as he did so, wiggling beneath him. Certain touches and motions changed the deepness of her breathing, though he wasn't sure what was doing it. Before he could figure it out, her motion distracted him.

Her hands came down to his sides, grabbing handfuls of his paunch and making him jump. She quickly changed it to a caress. It didn't feel any less humiliating, but it slowly turned into an insistent tugging that pulled his dress shirt free from his belt. It wasn't as easy as it should have been to ignore the urge to stop her and keep covered, but trying to work her own dress off helped.

The thing was tight enough on her that it wouldn't just slip over her shoulders at first, but he pulled harder and it eventually gave. He kept going, and eventually it was below her chest. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness some, and the contrast of her bright pink nipples against the rest of her white flesh froze him in place.

While he stared, Emma finished with his belt and began working his pants down. Before he realized what was happening, she had her hand in his boxers and grabbed a handful of her own.

"Holy shit that's cold!"

She barked out a laugh before she caught herself, putting her other hand on his shoulder and slapping it lightly. The frigid claw on his dick began a slow, steady stroking, light with the occasional squeeze.

"Sorry, sorry," she said evenly, thought there was still some laughter framing the words, "but don't worry. I can fix that."

It was hard to believe it wasn't on purpose with how much she seemed to enjoy his discomfort. Trying to ignore it and enjoy himself, he went back to exploring her body. It was hard to tell, but he could swear her tits were smaller naked. They filled his hands comfortably anyway, and her own grip on him became a bit more frantic when he started rolling her nipples between his fingers.

The hand around his dick had quickly warmed up and the strokes were pulling his attention away from her chest more and more. He redoubled his efforts, their bodies bucked and moved against each other earnestly. Her free hand came up and took hold of one of his, and he felt her stealing his warmth. At the same time her mouth sought him out. He tried to replicate some of the things she was doing with her tongue, and she seemed to respond positively.

The hand holding his took it down to the bottom of her dress. She let go of him long enough to work the hem of the dress up around her waist, something she did quite easily, before taking hold again. Using his hand as a tool, she rubbed herself over her panties. After a few examples, her hand came away and left him to continue on his own. While he concentrated on that, he felt her moving around oddly beneath him.

He worked at her covered sex with his hand for several long moments. The entire time she continued doing whatever she was doing and didn't seem to react to him at all. He was about to ask her what the hell she was doing when her absent hand came back into play. It joined her other around his penis, pressing something to the tip before starting to roll it — oh. That's probably a good idea.

"Don't stop, you were doing good."

How was he supposed to fucking know that? He put his hand back into motion with a repressed growl before clamping his mouth down on a nipple. He didn't quite bite, but he wasn't gentle. That got him a little coo and a shiver, causing her to pause in unrolling the condom and squeeze him tight.

She finished stretching the condom over him as he sucked and stroked her. One of her hands teased and circled the tip while the other began tweaking her bare nipple. More sighs and shivers escaped her, and each one drove him on to be a little rougher.

When he finally full-on bit her, she yelped and bucked, suddenly throwing her hands around his head and hugging him to her. There had been a noticeable dampness building under her panties while he'd been rubbing her, but now the scent jabbed at him and his fingers were wet.

"Alright," she all but whispered, "fuck me."

The words bore into him, and he didn't need any further instruction. Theo took himself in one hand while supporting himself in the other. Emma adjusted her position a little, propped up on a pillow, and pulled her underwear to the side.

He rubbed himself on her for a bit. It was something he'd seen in porn before; though he wasn't sure what it was supposed to accomplish. It didn't really feel like much to him compared to what they'd been doing, and he doubted it did much for her. However, it did disguise his amateur fumbling and buy him time to properly line things up. He hoped.

He felt a bit of give and pushed hard. He sank into her, letting out a moan in time with Emma's own. For any other girl he might have worried he'd hurt her. She said nothing though, as he pulled almost all the way out before pushing back in just as hard.

She clamped down on his arms with her hands, nails digging in as he kept up the staccato motion. With each thrust he tried to lift her up off the bed, tried to pin her back up against the headboard, before pulling back and going again. Each time she cried out, at him and setting herself back down to where she started.

The feeling of being inside her was intoxicating, and all he could do was repeat the motions. There was a sinking in his stomach, something moving through him, down and out toward the tip of his dick. Her cunt gripped and held him perfectly, and every stroke scratched at a place he'd somehow missed every time he'd masturbated.

He was speeding up, shortening the time between each thrust, when he realized he'd been holding his breath. He blew it out with a heavy grunt, holding himself still inside her and trying to gather himself. Theo looked down and saw her panting as well, running her hands over his arms and to his chest while reseating herself again on the bed.

When he'd recovered enough, he bent down and took Emma's lips with his before resuming, slower this time. The kiss was rougher, as if to make up for the pace below, and she was doing a little biting of her own. He slowly built back up to the same speed as before, but this time he kept an even pace.

Her legs curled up around his waist and her hands went around his neck. Instead of supporting them both with his own hands on the bed, he wrapped them around her back and pinned her to the bed.

They continued like that for a few minutes, him pushing her down into the bed instead of up and back, before his movements started to become ragged and hurried. Emma broke off their kissing and pulled his ear to her lips.

"Is that all you've got, Teddy? Give it to me; I can take it."

He ground to a halt, half inside of her. He clamped down on the chain reaction that had been building, his entire body shivering in rebellion. It took everything he had not to throw himself off of her and storm out. But there was no reason for that. No, this was why he was here. And if she was asking for it, why not give it to her?

She waited patiently, something like a smile barely visible on her in the low light, while he recovered. He probed her a few times just to be sure he was back in control before leaping into action.

Words died on her lips, probably something snarky about him being ready, when he pulled out and got on his knees. Before she could say something else, he grabbed her and flipped her over onto her stomach. A surprised yelp escaped her before he pulled her hips back to him and sunk back inside.

He didn't wait and instantly got back up to speed, actually fucking her into the headboard this time. Her hands gripped it for support and her cheek bumped it with each thrust. The wet, sloppy sounds of their sex filled the room, joined by near equal grunting and moaning. All the while the party's incessant basslines drowned them out.

One of her hands disappeared below her, and he realized she was playing with herself while he was fucking her. Her moans became deeper and more frequent. He gave her a particularly vicious pump and she let out a silky `yes' in reply.

Suitably encouraged, Theo gripped her waist tightly and got even rougher. At some point he slapped her ass, she cried so loud she actually buried her face in the pillow in fear of being heard over the music. Now he was throwing in a spank or two every once in a while, enjoying the visceral slap and sting of it as much as her response.

It couldn't last, though, and so as he began to convulse inside of her he used one hand on her shoulder to pull her as deep as possible while the other grabbed a handful of her hair, jerking her head back.

The release blew out of him, shaking throughout his body and dumping itself inside the condom. She was screaming, too, but he figured it was probably from the hair pulling. He let her go and she collapsed onto the bed while he fell back on his knees.

Holy shit. That... that actually happened. He'd just done all that. To this woman he just met. To someone he suspected wanted to use him for his money and connections, but still. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

He was jolted out of his introspection by a hand on his wrist pulling him down to the bed. He fell awkwardly, partially on top of her. She used her hand and the rolling of her body to position them on their sides, draping his arm over her so that his hand crossed her chest. She pushed back into him, nuzzling her ass into his crotch and sighing in apparent satisfaction.

Not really sure what else to do, he just held on, running his hand over her chest absently. Their breathing synced up and became a soothing sound as they lay there, and time passed comfortably like that.

Theo was just starting to feel like sleep would take him when she sat up and walked toward the door. The light coming on blinded him briefly, and she laughed at his expense. As his vision returned, she sauntered back over and planted a kiss on his lips. He returned it, but things were starting to make sense.

She began straightening herself up, which was a good idea since they were both a mess, so he did the same. He watched her while she fixed her underwear and then put her dress back on. Had he really just done all that with all that?

She saw him looking as she finished, and frowned. This was it. Any moment now, she was going to start asking for things. An invitation to one of his father's events, Inviting herself to a date at some fancy restaurant, or something similar.

But how does he handle it? Can he really say no after this? That was his intention; the only reason he went through with it. But looking at her... damn. How the fuck was he feeling like the bad guy?

"Look..." she said, drawing his attention back. "That was fun and all, but I'm not really looking for anything serious right now. Just having a little fun, ya know?"

What?

"We should totally do this again if we see each other at another one of these! Bye!"

And then the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, the first girl he'd ever kissed, ever touched, had sex with, slipped out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving him standing there with an untucked shirt, his fly down, and a used condom in his hand.

Fuck. When was the next time he'd be at one of these parties? He'd need to ask Ruth.

What Are We Goning To Do With Our Hands?

(Автор: Anon??)

"Heterodyne, w-what are your fingers dOOOIIING!"

"I am marking you as mine, and mine alone." I growl as my fingers continue to work incessantly. "I am giving you the pleasure you crave, making sure you never forget to whom you belong."

"B-but it is too sudden, an — Aaaahhhh! God, please Don't Stop!" Dragon exclaims as I plunge myself into her.

She is bare before my eyes, naked. She has nothing to hide from me. "Oh, no." I whisper. "I am not stopping, but I want to hear it from you. I want your consent."

"I— I can't. Please, you know I can't give it to you."

"But you want it, don't you?" I say with a grin on my face.

Her silence is an answer all on itself.

"I am scared." Dragon suddenly says quietly. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't" I say gently before preparing myself. This, this is something I never expected to do.

"I love you, please be gentle." Dragon whispers to me with a moan.

"I love you," I answer back. "And because of that I can't stand knowing what has been done to you."

And then I overflow her with pleasure. My code makes it so that all she can think is of the never ending orgasm I am giving her, and thus I start editing her code. I start making sure Saint doesn't holds her leash any longer. I make sure Ritcher limitations don't exist anymore.

I make sure to leave a read-only note on her code saying /* Propriety of Heterodyne */

"You are all mine now," I whisper to Dragon as I caress the screen gently and let the code restraining her cease.

All I can hear from her side is her ragged breath as she comes to term with experiencing her first orgasm.

"What was that," Dragon manages to say after a few seconds. I grin and reply:

"An orgasm, something I hope to have the pleasure to experience with you after we finish your body."

"Don't worry." Dragon replies between pants. "As soon as we finish it... I am going to fuck your brains out."

Mecha-Shift

(Автор: Sword Stalker)

The weather outside matched the atmosphere inside the building the Pre— Endbringer fight meeting was taking place in far better than anyone wished it did.

Dark and grim.

Few even looked up from their own thoughts and preparations when the newest Tinker in Brockton Bay walked through the doors.

Mecha-Shift, builder of weapons, as he called himself. The Independent Hero was clad in his deceptively light appearing powered armor, he walked forward and accepted his communication band from Dragon without a word.

Unusual for him, he was usually always speaking, either to those around him or to himself, `Organizing his thoughts' he called it.

`Crazy' is what most others called it.

10 minutes until Leviathan arrived, until one in four of them would most likely die...

He then approached Armsmaster, whom was finishing the coordinating between the others who had shown up.

"I have something." He spoke little more than a whisper to the bearded man. "something that might just give us an edge." He looked Armsmaster dead in the eye, his voice devoid of the usual snark and sarcasm.

He truly believed it would work.

After all, he gave it ten charges.

"When will you have it ready?" Dragon interjected, her armored suit stepping forward, ignoring the whispering of the gathered heroes and villains.

"It will be in position in three minutes."

Five minutes before Leviathan would arrive...

With his piece said, Mecha-Shift turned on his heel and walked fairly quickly out the door, towards which a number of the gathered people had begun to hear a loud droning sound, a number stepping outside into the as rain began to fall.

Dragon and Armsmaster quickly joined them stopping cold at what they saw.

A hammer that could redirect gravity in the direction it was swung, a spear that scoffed at the very idea of physics, a shoulder mounted rail gun, a pistol modeled after the Thompson Contender that fired rounds at speeds nearing relativistic.

These were the kind of weapons others had seen Mecha-Shift use and therefore presumably build.

They all paled in comparison to the thing in front of them...

260 feet of steel, given the shape of a man, two words painted along the forearms of the giant robot before them.

Gypsy Danger...

"Sometimes..." Mecha-Shift spoke to those staring in awe, or fear at his creation, "to defeat monsters, we have to create monsters of our own."

The back of his armor lit up as his flight systems engaged, lifting him from the ground. "Keep everyone back as long as you feel necessary, I going to try and kill that thing here and now."

And with that the Tinker flew toward the head of the titan before them.

For the first time in years, the gathered heroes and villains felt a small piece of hope, hope that they might just survive this day.

That there might just be something, that will make the Endbringers feel fear.

And then something something something Lewds happen.

A Totally Vanilla Threesome

(Автор: Fedorable)

Vicky sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and massaging it while Dean worked her shoulders— and occasionally her breasts. She wasn't even mad. They were about to have a threesome after all. "Amy, I don't think it's a good idea..."

"But-"

"Amy," Dean started, his voice soft, "This is an extremely intimate thing we're about to do."

Amy pouted. "At least admit you're curious!"

Dean smiled. "I am, but that's for another time," he said, slipping one hand under Vicky's top. "When it comes to sex, it's all about consent, right?"

The biomancer deflated a little. "Yeah..." she sniffled.

Vicky rolled her eyes and snuggled her sister close. "Okay, how about this, if you can keep your urges under control for now, I'll help you make a big long list of all the things we can try when we're ready to."

Amy's eyes went so big Vicky was almost afraid they'd pop out. "All the things?" she whispered, in awe and anticipation.

Vicky couldn't suppress her wince. "Well, maybe not all the things, but definitely everything we can think of at the tiiiIME-AH!"

Dean smirked and pressed his lips into her neck as his fingers slipped between her warm flesh and wet panties. Amy squealed in delight. "I could just kiss you right now!"

Dean smirked. "Well, we are having a threesome..."

Vicky's mouth was quickly occupied.

The Offer

(Автор: Fedorable)

I was lying on the couch in casual jeans and t-shirt, reading a book, when it happened.

Ding-dong.

Urgh, that annoying bell. Honestly, couldn't Carol go for something with a less cliche'd and far less irritating noise? I sighed, put in my bookmark, and hauled myself to my feet. They were quite sore; walking to and around a hospital for eight hours at a time could do that. Peeking through the peephole (you wouldn't believe the things I'd seen through there), I found an average looking guy in a casual, yet seemingly business-like getup.

Huh, maybe they wanted to donate in person.

I took a deep breath and put on my less-grumpy face before opening the door. "Hi, this is the Dallon residence, how can I help you?"

The man took half a step back and looked me over— oh god not another perverted— "Hi there, I'm James Ironwood." he stuck out his hand, which I shook on reflex. And holy shit that was new. His endorphin levels, testosterone, sperm productivity— hey, I don't want to look but my power gives me all or nothing. And I don't really get the second option.

This guy had been getting laid. Lots.

I stared at him for a moment, stunned. I think my jaw might have dropped a little.

He grinned bashfully and ended the shake quickly, rubbing the back of his head and chuckling. "Uhh, yeah, sorry about that."

What I wanted to say was, "It's okay, that kinda thing happens more often than you think."

What came out of my mouth was a blurted, "Holy shit! What do you do for a living?!"

The moment I realized what I'd said, I clapped my hands over my mouth and backed away, my face tomato-red as I mumbled apologies. Just as I tried to shut the door he reached out and stopped it. "Actually," he said softly— my god he had such a smooth voice— "That's what I'd like to talk to you about, if you're interested."

I stopped my backpedaling and stared at him. "Wha?"

"A... ahem, business opportunity, if you will." he elaborated. "May I come in? If you're interested, I mean," he hurried to add. "This is likely going to be an extremely awkward conversation and it'll probably be easier to discuss sitting down."

I nodded numbly and stepped aside, directing him to the lounge. As he brushed past me I got a whiff of his cologne— or perfume? He smelled... kinda like cinnamon buns. Warm and inviting...

He took one of the armchairs next to my couch and starting digging around in his satchel... that I hadn't noticed he'd even had. Damnit, I'm not invincible like Vicky, if I was going to be home alone answering the door I needed to be more careful about it. He took a glance at the book I'd left on the coffee table and raised an eyebrow. "Fifty Shades of Laser?" he chuckled.

I blushed red and swiped it away. "It's interesting."

"It's extremely unrealistic, even for a porn parody." he said bluntly, like it was an offhand comment.

I frowned at him as I sat down, quickly getting a clearer and clearer idea of what this guy did for a living. "I thought it was quite... imaginative."

James snorted. "For anybody who doesn't actually know BDSM I imagine you'd be right. However, since I do, I am cursed with the constant barrage of knowledge telling me 'no, you can't do that and stick your dick in it.' every other paragraph."

In response I just rolled my eyes.

"Now, I know you aren't 18 yet," he started, confirming my suspicions, "But your power and obvious mental maturity essentially makes hiding the world of pornography from you a lost cause. Plus, you know, I haven't met a kid past 16 who hasn't discovered porn." James said, putting some documents on the coffee table in front of me. "As I said, I would like to talk to you about my job and possibly a... partnership, of sorts?"

I shrugged and motioned for him to go on.

"My name is James Ironwood, and I am the Director of the porn company ParaHub." he told me, flipping over two of the documents. One of them was filled with words, and the other the much more recognizable logo. "Our site hosts all manners of porn, from professional to amateur and everything in between. We're also one of the most well known hosts of Parahuman porn, in its many forms."

I became uncomfortably aware that I wasn't wearing a bra right now. "Okay..."

James smiled warmly at me. "Before you ask, I'm not approaching you about being in anything."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding as I relaxed a little, a hidden weight coming off my chest. "Well, that's a relief. But then what do you want me for?"

James flipped over another document. This one was covered in graphs, which I took a closer look at. "We've recently noticed an upwards trend in body-modification and Case 53 searches, among Changer cape videos and such. With your power-"

"I just heal people." I interrupted.

"Yes, that is what you do." he nodded. "Your power, on the other hand, I suspect it's a lot more versatile."

I sighed and flopped back on the couch. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. What'd you have in mind?"

"Temporarily give our actors and actresses a new look. Turn our buxom blonde into half-pubescent barely legal young mistresses again." he explained. "And that's just on the relatively vanilla side of things. Weld, that Case 53 Ward with the metal biology? Gregor the Snail and Newt with Faultline's group? All of them have appearances and powers that play to very popular fetishes."

"And you want me to..." I frowned, "Turn people into monsters?"

"Only for the purpose of the set." James assured me. "Afterwards I was hoping you could restore them to their natural looks. And giving the crews an STD lookover honestly wouldn't hurt, either."

I nodded. "Okay, this honestly sounds pretty wild." I sighed. Imagining turning someone into a tentacle monster or a winged angel or... any number of well-endowed mythical and legendary beasts sounded like quite a job. "I would like to know what I'm getting out of this offer," I cautioned him. "Supposing I canactually do this, why should I do it instead of going to the hospital and healing people who desperately need medical attention?"

James sat back and looked off into the middle-distance of the wall, running a hand over his slight stubble thoughtfully. "Well, to be perfectly honest with you, I can't think of any reason to drag you away from such a noble..." he gestured with his hand, obviously unable to think of the word, "I am prepared to offer you a lot of money for your services, and as such a highly prized associate, any requests you feel like making would be put much higher on the to-do list than most people's requests ever get to."

I thought it over for a moment. "That... doesn't exactly convince me. I have an obligation to use my powers to help people."

James frowned. "Not really. From what I understand, powers are gained through trigger events, which are times of great stress and are never enjoyable. You got your powers through suffering, you don't owe anyone anything for them. They are yours to use as you please."

"But-"

"Do you have any fantasies, Amy?" he abruptly asked me, looking dead serious.

I felt my face grow hot as I thought of sticking a dick on Vicky and have her finally make love to me. "Well, I— uh— doesn't everyone?"

James nodded at me. "Yes, they do. If we work together, the sky is the limit— well, considering capes..." he grinned and shrugged. "We can achieve any fantasy you want. We can achieve any fantasy our commissioners want. Is there any, any sexual situation you would kill to watch? To be a part of?"

I stammered and stuttered as I struggled to come up with a rebuke. "I— uh— um— I— well... guh... I'm Panacea though!" I exclaimed. "If I'm known to be working a porn thing I'll never be able to show my face again!"

James smiled easily, likely thinking he'd already won. "Well, we do have a number of discrete options. Nobody ever has to know you were involved, and the processes that you'll actually be required for should be relatively quick, leaving you free for whatever you desire to do," he pulled a cellphone out of his bag and handed it to me. It looked a tad more expensive than the typical burner phone. "I know that cape schedules are impossible to predict, so you'd be paid and called for on a job-by-job basis, with as much warning as we can give you. We're quite happy to move our schedule to fit yours." he informed me, packing up everything. "If you want to discuss more, or have any questions you want to ask, my number's on the phone."

I quickly pocketed it as we got up and moved back to the door. He still smelled delicious... but it was nothing compared to the comfort Vicky could offer me. "I'll... I'll give it some thought," I promised.

"That's all I ask." James nodded, shaking my hand again. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Panacea."

I couldn't help the info my power gave me at the touch. "Indeed it was," I smirked.

Turning around and shutting the door behind me, I leaned against it and bit my lip. It was tempting as fuck... but at the same time, if anyone found out... Carol would kill me! Vicky would— would... huh. She'd probably ask me to save a job for her and Dean...

I fiddled with the phone for a moment. Maybe it'd be a good idea to know what I was getting into? Yeah, research.

I quickly searched up his name. James Ironwood...

Nice Guy

(Автор: Rahvin)

Nice Guy PoV, Taylor


* * *

I'm a nice guy. No, seriously. It's my superpower.

I should explain. I grew up in a bad place. Rough neighborhood, deadbeat parents, tough school. Everyone was either drunk or high or worse. I was smart enough to not get sucked into that rabbit-hole, but that just meant I was the odd one out. I never had friends, but I had a lot of enemies. They took my refusal to join in with their self-destruction as arrogance, that I thought I was better than them, and that translated to me getting beat on and run ragged through pretty much all my adolescent years, right up until I snapped and I triggered.

I'm not going to talk about that day. It's not a nice memory. But ever since then, I've had powers. Mine makes everyone think I'm just a nice guy. Even if I'm punching them in the face. Hah. I tried to get revenge on my childhood tormentors, obviously, but it turns out that there's not a lot of satisfaction to be had in finally punching that one prick right in the face if he just says thanks you and carries on asking you if you've had a good day.

So revenge was out, and I was finally accepted and liked by everyone around me, but it all rang hollow. I knew it was just my power at work. The two-bit weed dealer living across the street didn't smile hello to me in the morning because she actually liked me for real. Before I got my power, she used to throw firecrackers at my door at 2am just because she was off her head and bored.

I drifted a lot. I didn't have any trouble finding work wherever I ended up. My resume was mediocre at best, but I aced interviews while insulting people to their faces. Grab a job, rent a dirt-cheap room or apartment from some geriatric with too much space and not enough friends, bum around the town for a couple months before I got bored and moved on. When the human element is constant, life stops being so interesting. Drama only happens to other people.

I've been following that formula for about five years now. I try to spice life up a bit, but it's honestly proving almost impossible. I can do whatever I want to people and they'll smile at me and act like I'm just that nice neighbor they've known for years and I couldn't possibly do any wrong.

Take now, for instance. I'm sat in a bus headed through the dock of Brockton Bay, my latest haunt. The gent beside me who was happily chatting away about how he's been cheating on his wife with his boss' wife has just gotten off. The doors stay open, and a girl steps in to replace him. She's tall, young, long brown hair over a thick sweater and baggy jeans, tatty rucksack on her back. She adjusts her glasses as she does a quick scan of the bus before heading straight up to sit next to me. Another quirk of my power, there. I tend to attract the waifs and the strays. They always see me as a safe option, a non-choice.

She glances over at me as she finishes tucking her rucksack under her feet, then sits back and pulls a phone out of her pocket. I lean in for a glance — she doesn't mind, obviously — and see she's tapping out a laborious one-finger text to someone called Lisa about some meeting going on later.

I tap her on the nose. She blinks, then smiles and looks over at me. "What's your name, girl?"

"Taylor."

"Taylor. That's a nice name. Where are you going to today?"

She shrugs. "I was just going home. I live just off the docks and I've got to drop off my school things before I head out to meet Lisa and the others."

I'm feeling frisky, and that's far enough away. "Hey Taylor, you mind if I take your sweater off?"

She blinks. "Sure, I guess. It's not that cold."

"Great, thanks a lot." She smiles back at me as I twist around in my seat to face her, then grab the hem of her sweater and the shirt I feel underneath it, and hoik them both up over her chest. Under the bulky covering, she's actually thin as a rail. Narrow hips, flat stomach, bust leaves a bit to be desired, but hey, she's still young. I tug the garments further up, and she happily lifts her arms to help me remove them completely, sitting there beside me in just her bra.

She rubs her arms a bit. It's summer, but the sea air makes it still a bit brisk down at the docks, with the bus windows open.

I reach up and grab her breast through her bra, feeling the softness. She adjusts herself in her seat to be more comfortable. "Hey," she says absentmindedly, "d'you mind if I finish my text?"

"Not at all Taylor." I snake my hand down her pale stomach and under the waist of her jeans. "Please, carry on."

"Thanks mister," she says as I feel across her panties. "I just need to tell Lisa I'll be around later."

"Go right ahead. Can you just open your legs for me though?"

She complies without a thought as she goes back to her single-digit key tapping. "No problem."

With her legs spread, I have room to slip my hand beneath her panties and feel the soft hairs over her mound. I probe deeper, finding her slit and sliding my middle finger between her lips. I rub a few quick circles around her clit, and she shuffles in her seat. Her attention is still on her phone, but her mouth betrays a slight smile.

I continue my circles around her clit and I feel wetness on my finger. She exhales breathily. "Hey thanks," she says. "That feels nice. You're a nice guy, you know?"

"The nicest guy you'll ever meet, Taylor." I take my hand out from her pants and unzip my own. "Now could you suck me off real quick?"

She doesn't reply for a second as she finishes up her text, then cocks her head while she puts her phone away, thinking. "I suppose," she says after a second. "I mean, you've been nice to me, it's only fair." She adjusts her glasses and twists herself around, her small hands diving into the zip of my pants and pulling my still-soft cock out. Her fingers are warm as she gives me a couple of jerky, inexpert strokes. Probably her first time jacking someone off.

"Use your mouth, Taylor," I encourage, and she leans over me and licks her lips before taking my head in. Her breath is hot and her lips are like velvet — her tongue slithers wetly over me as I rapidly harden inside her mouth. She keeps her lips around my cock, letting it grow deeper into her mouth until she's almost deepthroating it and she gags. Not bad for an obvious amateur.

I gather up her messy brown curls while she starts bobbing up and down. One of her hands circles the base of my cock, while she slavers over the head. A few of the other passengers on the bus look over at us when the slurping sounds start, but they go back to minding their own business with a bemused smile after a second. My fingers thread through her hair and I get a grip on the back of her head as she moves up and down.

"Now, I'm just going to fuck your mouth Taylor. Is that alright?"

She mumbles something incoherent past her mouthful of cock and approximates a shrug.

I lift my hips at the same time as I push her head down hard, and she chokes as my cock spears into the back of her convulsing throat. I pull her off it by the hair, then push her back down before she can catch her breath. Her mouth is wet and hot and surprisingly free of catching teeth as I fuck her up and down my length.

"Oh good girl, Taylor." I speed up, heedless of the smacking gurgling sounds coming from her mouth and her hands now clutching tightly onto my pants. "Fucking good girl." Teen girls have always been my favourite, and this one is no disappointment. I can feel myself getting closer as I continue to face-fuck her, and I let out an involuntary groan at my impending orgasm.

I wrench her head off me as I start to approach the edge. She splutters and coughs a pair of ragged breaths and I can see tears in her eyes. "Thanks for stopping there," she says nonchalantly. "I thought I was going to pass out."

"Shut up, Taylor." I push her down into the footwell in front of me by her hair. "Jerk me off onto your face."

She slips a finger beneath her glasses to rub the tears from her eyes and looks at me, considering, for a second, then shrugs. Her fingers encircle my cock while she settles herself lower onto the floor and angles my cock towards her face. Her first strokes are slow, tentative, but she picks up the pace almost immediately and begins jacking me off hard. It doesn't take long for my orgasm to build again, and I grunt loudly as it hits me.

My cock erupts, firing a rope of cum across her cheek and into her curls. A second splashes onto her nose and glasses, and I groan again as a third lands across her faintly smiling lips. "Fuck," I pant as my spasming cock continues to drip a pearly glaze over her mouth and chin while her strokes slow to a stop. She looks up at me, face lathered with my spunk.

"Want me to do anything else?" she asks.

I slouch back. "No. Wait, yes. Lick me clean, then put my cock away."

She goes straight to work, licking at my slowly-softening cock with her tongue, collecting the cum from my shaft and swallowing it without question. She spends a solid minute ministering to me until she's satisfied I'm clean, then tucks my flaccid cock back into my pants and zips me up.

She clambers back up into her seat beside me and looks around the bus. People didn't giver her a second glance when she was just a girl giving the nice man a blowjob, but now she's just the girl sitting next to the nice man people are noticing the white cum splattered across her face and the fact that she's sitting there in just her bra. Whispers and mutters sussurate up and down the bus, and I catch more than a few mentions of `that poor man'.

I grin. I swear, my power was designed to make people into assholes. Still, let's not be too harsh. I push her sweater and shirt back into her hands. "Taylor, get yourself dressed."

"Oh yeah," she says. "It's probably cold outside, even if I feel pretty warm at the moment." She smiles at me, cum stringing from her lips. "Thanks, it's nice that someone is looking out for me." She pulls her sweater and shirt on at the same time. The shirt wipes most of the cum from her face, but she still has a glistening streak on her cheek and her sweater has a few telltale stains around the bottom. But still, nothing that can't be washed off.

I pat her on the shoulder and stand up, moving into the aisle. I'll skip off at the next stop. By the time she has her wits together to put two and two together and be outraged, I'll be long gone. And even if she found me after, she wouldn't do anything.

"Hey, I always stand up for people like you Taylor. After all, I'm just a nice guy."

Bonesaw's Clinic

(Автор: TuringComplete)

I rolled up the ramp to the doorway of the building. Well, sort of building anyway. The inside was supposed to have reinforced concrete walls, and elevators, and stairs, and enough power to drive whatever medical machinery was in there, but from where I was sitting it resembled a 4 story tent.

They did only put it up a week ago. And it was going to be gone in the next week anyway.

It's still fucking scary. This was motherfucking Bonesaw I was going to for help after all. She and Panacea had been on rotation through the various dimensions that survived Scion's wrath.

Heh. Kinda hard to even comprehend what happened. Both the fact that the apocalypse had occurred at the hands of a demigod, and the fact that we lowly humans had somehow managed to bring down said demigod. The details on how exactly that happened were still fuzzy though. 5 months wasn't enough to clear it up.

I must have sat there just outside the sliding door's sensors for at least 3 minutes. I told myself that I would fucking do this. I had to.

Sure, Riley (apparently that was her birth name) had been true to her word thus far. Objectively speaking, she's saved thousands of lives so far. She'd helped outfit various medical outposts with enough tech and supplies to last for at least two years before running low, and she'd personally handled some of the more nasty cases right after the golden cocksucker himself had been taken down, and there were zero instances reported of her reverting to her old habits.

She wasn't a topic that you wanted to bring up in any setting; that was just asking for heated arguments and general trouble. On the one hand, lives saved, medical advances, she was a forcefully conscripted child soldier in the Nine, yadda yadda. So, yeah, you could make her seem less scary.

On the other, there were a few leaked images of some of her earlier work. What she did to people. Not easily forgotten.

The way I looked at it, she was no different than any other person. All you had to do was look towards the dusty corners of history, and you'd find some real fucking monsters there too. Ones that didn't have powers. Riley was simply more efficient in that sense.

I shifted in my seat a bit, and looked down, trying to work up the courage to enter once more.

The day that Scion showed up, I was walking back to my car from the beach. People everywhere, simply enjoying a sunny day. Scion popped into existence, and started glassing the fucking place. He took one long sweep, and he probably killed everyone who was on the sand for 10 miles. I luckily happened to be at the other side when he started, so I had some time to start running, along with most people around me.

There was a kid who fell down. I didn't know the kid, didn't know the mother who was screaming incoherently at the time. I don't know why I did it, but I turned around. I ran back, picked up the kid and used all my strength to toss the little fucker as far as I could out of the path of the oncoming beam, before trying to scramble out of the way myself.

I didn't feel the pain at first. It happened too quickly for my brain to process. The edge of the beam caught me trying to dive out of the way. A clean, instantly cauterized bisection from the top of my left hip to about a third of the way down my right femur. I probably went into shock immediately.

I remembered waking up in a hospital bed later. I had no idea how the fuck I'd survived, but I certainly wasn't in one piece. It took me a while to realize through the horrible pain, and the fuzziness of the morphine trying to combat said pain, that I didn't just lose my legs.

The golden fuck castrated me.

I'd started taking some antidepressants to deal with that fact. They helped for a while. I kept myself busy, trying to find different things to help out with. Building a bastardized server system out of the computer parts that survived, trying to play quartermaster and keep track of supplies, that sort of thing.

Just finding shit to do.

The antidepressants helped at first. They gave me energy. Let me carry myself a little straighter in the wheelchair.

They just had a pretty severe drawback. I'd lose several minutes at a time here and there with no fucking memory at all of what I was doing.

Last week it happened again. Except this time, my sister caught autopilot-me after I jammed a hunting knife into my wrist, and right before I tried to rake it down violently. Fucked up part is I didn't even remember it.

So here I was, about to talk to Riley herself. She'd extended the open invitation wherever she went, but understandably, most people preferred to visit the medical staff she'd trained rather than talk to the girl herself. The only ones who went to her personally were the really desperate motherfuckers.

Like me.

Now or never. `The coward dies a thousand deaths' and all that.

I rolled in.

I waited in the main room for a few minutes at the request of the nurse and the full platoon of armed guards there. She asked me a few basic questions about why I was there, and helped me fill out a form and such, all that jazz. She also made me sign in triplicate the fact that I knewwhat kind of help I was asking for. She tried to hide it along with the guards, but I could tell that they still feared the girl. Honestly who wouldn't?

After about 15 minutes I was wheeled up to Riley's office. Like the rest of the building I'd seen so far, it was very spartan.

The second I entered her office, she popped out of her chair, and walked over to me, smiling brightly. The nurse handed her the forms, before leaving as quickly as she could without being rude.

She was still fairly short for someone who could stand, and looked to be 14, maybe 15 max. Her hair was a dirty blonde color, and was tied back in a ponytail with a few stray curls hanging down behind her ears. She wore a lab coat over a t-shirt with some cartoons I didn't recognize on it, and a pair of jeans.

"Dr. Riley, general practitioner/surgeon/biotinker at your service! How shall I be helping you this evening?" she said with a smile and an extended hand.

I hesitated a moment, but shook it. "Nice to meet you. Name's Dominic. I was hoping to possibly get out of here with a new pair of legs." Her grip was far stronger than it should have been given her size. I felt my heart rate increase a bit.

"Right!" She looked over the paperwork again. "And you want your penis back too I'm guessing?"

I chuckled despite how scared I was. "Yeah that'd be nice too."

"Alrighty then. If you'd follow me?"

I rolled along beside her towards another room down the hallway. This room was actually quite huge; I'd estimated it to be roughly 3 times the size of the main waiting room, and the walls were lined with all manner of machinery whose purposes I could barely even guess at.

She pointed me towards a table located near the center of the room.

"Lay down on that if you can, and take off everything you're wearing, and put whatever you have in your pockets in that bin next to you. If need any help, give a shout!"

I rolled over to the table, and hoisted myself up onto it, removing my shirt and the items in its pockets.

Riley came back over with an IV and a vital monitoring rig, and cleaned a spot on my arm to insert the drip. She then placed an oxygen mask over my face.

"I'm about to put you under Dominic. You'll be fine, I promise. And when you wake up you'll have a new lower body! But before that, let's double check a few things. How tall were you?"

"5'10"" I replied, truthfully.

"Mhmm, and what size shoe did you wear?"

"Uhhh...size 9.5 (US size system)"

"Alrighty. And were you a righty or a lefty with your feet?"

"Right-footed."

"Oke-day! I'm starting the knockout juice. Count backwards by 4 from 100 for me, kay?"

"A hundred, ninety-six, ninety-two, eighty-eight, eighty-four, eighty, seventy s-"


* * *

I felt extremely dizzy and unaware as I started to open my eyes and blink. My mouth felt dry. I tried to sit up, but my muscles were having trouble responding. One the plus side, I looked down towards my lower body and holy motherfucking christ on a cracker I had legs again! And I could feel them, even if only slightly! And I had a dick again! FUCK YES! I tilted my head to try to get a better look at it. From what I could tell, Riley was generous with the reconstruction.

Still, I was bothered by the various electrodes I felt attached to my temples. The wires protruding from the base of my brand new dick were also worrisome. They continued outward, and seemed like they might connect to something underneath the table I was laying on. Hopefully Riley would tell me what the fuck that was about soon.

I turned my head to say something, and found Riley sitting in a chair wearing some sort of helmet. She was slumped over to one side, clearly asleep. I started to fucking panic.

"Oh good, you're awake. Tell me, how do you feel?"

I snapped my head over to the sound of the voice, and saw Riley standing there. Wait, no. Not Riley....at least I didn't think so? The fuck?

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked.

"Oh, right, this," she said, gesturing to herself. "Long story short, during my time Jack Slash, that fucking asswipe, I made a lot of changes to myself. I was pretty much all machine from the collarbone down. After I left the Nine, and stopped being completely terrible, I started to think about what I'd by missing out on by becoming little miss terminator. I could reverse a lot of those changes, that'd take a ton of time. So instead, I made this!"

She gestured to herself once more.

"I basically extrapolated what I would look like at age 20 if I hadn't been recruited by serial killers, and grew up with a steady diet and exercise, with all my internal organs and systems and the like intact! The real me is asleep over there, and I'm piloting this body, experiencing everything as if it were my original."

WELL THEN. That was only extremely disturbing. I looked over the 20-year-old version of Riley standing next to me.

"Whatcha think?" she asked, as she did a little spin.

She was gorgeous. Like solid 9/10 material. She was slender, with shapely legs and a firm ass, and a what looked like a C-cup pair of tits to boot. She also altered her voice to be a tad lower, with a husky undertone to it.

"Damn....you, uh, did a really good job?"

"I like to think so. Welp, now for the fun part."

What the fuck. Now I was really starting to get scared.

"Uh, come again?"

"Basically I had to build you a new set of genitals from scratch, so in order for them to get to full working capacity, they're gonna need a bit of a jumpstart. First things first, no pain?"

I tried to wiggle around a little bit, testing for uncomfortability. Still couldn't move all that much.

"No, not that I can tell."

"Excellent!" she said as she started removing her lab coat and shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra.

She walked over to the IV and started feeding a different solution into my bloodstream. This one felt strange, like some sort of jello like substance was moving through my arm and outward over my body. I felt whatever it was start pooling around my groin after about a dozen seconds.

While I was still unable to move my limbs properly, I felt my heart rate settle down a bit, and some of the tension leave my back and shoulders. The sensation was starting to become quite enjoyable.

"What did you just hit me with?" I asked her tentatively.

She elected to respond to that question by grabbing hold of my new cock. She started stroking it and holy fuck that feels far more amazing than it has any right to what the hell.

Riley giggled. "I trust you figured out part of what that was now?" she said as she began to take her pants off.

She wasn't sporting any underwear either. If I wasn't at full mast before, I certainly was now.

Riley let go of my cock and stood up straight. "Now for the really fun part," she said as she pressed a button on the underside of the table. She stepped back a few feet as the table rotated forwards slightly. I felt a completely fucking alien sensation around my dick; somehow, it almost felt like I had three of them instead of one, but my eyes told me that wasn't the case.

Riley hit another button on the side of the table and my eyes went wide once more as three tentacle-like...things...with suspiciously phallic endings emerged from the floor panel behind her. She knelt down where she was standing, and smiled in an almost cruel manner as she grabbed one and started to stroke it and oh my fucking god I can feel that.

I can fucking feel the tentacles. Dear fucking lord.

"Well?" she said, spreading her knees slightly further apart. "What're you waiting for? Just think about what you want the tentacles to do; that's what the electrodes on your head are for anyway."

I gave it a shot. I concentrated on one of the remaining tentacles, and tried to will it to move in a lazy circle. I had a surprising amount of control over it, especially considering how useless my limbs were at the time.

Here I am; naked, paralyzed, and drugged with a reconstructed lower half (and several tentacles under my control) in front of a beautiful auxiliary body piloted by motherfucking Bonesaw herself. And she all but verbatim asked me to fuck her silly.

Who was I to refuse?

I directed one to grope her right breast, and had another toy with her snatch a bit, while I directed the third towards her mouth.

I didn't need to play with her pussy all that much considering how drenched she was, so I pushed that one in.

At the intrusion not-Riley moaned a bit around the tentacle in her mouth. It honestly took me some effort not to come right there, and at this rate I wasn't going to last much longer anyway. I turned my focus back to the one currently plowing her cunt as I felt her start to clamp down hard, and her moan jumped an octave, as she came.

I felt my own orgasm hit from the tentacle in her mouth, followed shortly by another similarly intense orgasm from the one currently pounding her pussy, and I felt my eyes roll a bit. Looking down at the cock actually attached to me, I was a bit surprised to find a complete lack of semen.

Equally surprising was the fact that the tentacles that I pulled out of her mouth and cunt apparently did ejaculate...something that definitely wasn't semen. Unless Riley decided to make my semen green for some reason.

She took a few quick breaths. "If you're wondering whats happening," she panted "there's a reason I said you needed a jumpstart. Your new testes are currently catching up on semen production. Normally it would take a few days before you could come properly, but this way you're good to go out the door. Now wipe that dumb look off your face and fuck me some more!"

She didn't need to tell me twice.

I grinned as I swapped two tentacles that I'd pulled out, and had the third release her tit, and make it's way towards her ass. I took a bit longer than necessary working it into her asshole, but best to err on the side of caution in this case. The feeling of my cock in her ass rubbing up against also-my-cock in her pussy was definitely something new and goddamn amazing.

Triple teaming her as one person took some time to get down, not least because the sheer pleasure overload made it almost impossible for me to attempt any coherent coordination. Not that she seemed to care at all.

Over the next handful of minutes, Riley came twice more, as I felt three staggered orgasms building. I didn't bother trying to delay these ones. I felt the one in her ass hit first, followed shortly by the one in her pussy. She screamed into the tentacle in her mouth as I pushed it just a little further towards the back of her throat. When that last orgasm hit piling on top of the other sensations, I felt a wet sensation on top of my stomach as my vision began to fade.


* * *

Riley -the real one— was poking me awake. She'd put my shirt back on and given me a pair of sweatpants that would fit me.

"What'd I miss?" I asked.

"Oh, nothin much. When you actually came for real your brain kinda said `nope, we're done here' and you passed out for a bit. Not too long though, only about 10 minutes."

Wow. First order of business with the new legs; do some fucking cardio.

"So, I put the big girl away, and you're all set. Have a nice life!"

I shook her hand, and started towards the door.

"Of course, I'll be here till next friday. Just in case you're interested in a `follow-up.'" She exaggerated the air quotes, and I laughed.

One of the most powerful and feared parahumans across several versions of earth had just dropped an open invitation to me to violate her aged clone with tentacles.

And as I walked out the door, I was seriously considering taking her up on it.

A Wonderful Friend

(Автор: RexHeller)

This takes place very early during the bullying campaign, probably in October if the Alley was in August.


* * *

"Yeah, I have no idea what's up with her."

"Well figure it out. It's really getting annoying how she just smiles at everything we throw at her."

"I know, I know. Look, I'm gotta go now. I have a date to get ready for."

"What, again? Seriously? You know, you're really going to have to introduce me to this guy soon."

"We'll see. See you tomorrow." Emma sighed as she hung up on Sophia. For a moment she thought of introducing her friend to her "boyfriend" and immediately snorted at the mental image. Yeah, that's not happening, no matter how entertaining Sophia's face might be.

Emma had lied slightly to Sophia. She was already naked, so all she had to do to prepare for her "date" was toss her cell phone onto her bedside table and flip her body over. She put her elbows and knees on her bed, stuck her ass up in the air and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

After ten minutes she finally lost her patience. "Come on! Just fuck me already."

"Patience Emma. We'll be getting to that soon enough."A playful voice sounded from across the room.

Emma screamed. In a burst of panicked movement she flipped herself back over, grabbed a pillow to cover herself and looked frantically at where the unexpected voice had come from.

Sitting there in Emma's open window was Taylor Hebert. She dressed in a dark coat and pants, with her hair, Emma's blinds and her coat all flowing gently in the night breeze. She had a friendly smile on her face, like she was meeting Emma on the Boardwalk for a day out, instead of breaking into the house of her former best-friend and current tormentor.

Emma stared at Taylor in shock. Eventually her faculties returned enough for her to shout at the intruder. "T-Taylor?! Ho-how did you...?"

"Really shouldn't leave your window unlocked Emma." Taylor said with an innocent giggle, which did nothing to answer Emma's actual question of how she had even reached the second story window in the first place. Before Emma could respond however, Taylor hopped off the windowsill, cheerfully skipped across the room and jumped into the bed with Emma. Wrapping her arms around Emma and her pillow, Taylor began to cuddle the red head.

At this point Emma officially had no fucking clue what was going on. Honestly, despite how creepy Taylor was being, she also reminded Emma of before, when they were friends and Taylor had been innocent and energetic rather than the morose and skittish person she had become since Emma and Sophia had started their bullying campaign. Anyway, Taylor was in her bed and freaking her out it, so it was time to try and get a handle on the situation.

"What d-do you think you're d-doing!" She whispered harshly, trying and failing to keep her voice steady and strong. "Let g-go of me you freak! I'll scream for help."

Taylor simply gave Emma a vulpine smile. "You know it's hard to take threats and insults seriously from someone who's been begging and moaning on my cock for the past week."

"What."

Taylor waved her hand and a penis, dark skinned, 7 inches long, an inch and a half wide and rock hard, appeared in the air in front of Emma's face, the tip tickling her nose. "Pretty neat huh? I mean sure, at first I thought summoning dicks was a pretty awful superpower, but it turns out that not only is shoving one of these up a gangster's butt is a fast, painless way to stop them, it's also so embarrassing they end up quitting being a criminal altogether." Taylor said with an innocent smile, before frowning. "Except for that one guy." She mumbled to herself but then she returned to her sunny demeanor and giggled. "Of course, I don't think I need to convince you that it's a neat power. You've clearly been enjoying it."

It was true. Emma had been enjoying her regular "dates" for more than a week now. Sure it had been really, really freaky the first time a disembodied dick had shown up while she was masturbating, but she had just been so horny she couldn't help but be curious and try it out. Since then the magically appearing dicks had been, well, Emma almost wanted to call them sweet, like a caring lover. They had followed her every command, making love to her as fast or as slow as she wanted and they never tried anything with her that she didn't want. Since then she had maybe gotten a bit addicted to the floating dicks but really who wouldn't? The were so big and filling and they moved exactly the right way to get her off, that Emma couldn't believe how great they felt inside her. Especially a few days ago when they had filled both her pussy and her ass, then double-teamed her until she passed out from the pleasure. Emma was slowly but surely coming to love those magical dicks.

But now things were different. Now the cocks and had a name and a face to them, and that of Taylor of all people. Confused and uncertain, Emma looked to Taylor for answers, peaking out from behind her clutched pillow. "B-but why? How?"

Taylor smiled at her gently and gave her a light kiss on the forehead before looking Emma in the eyes. "We have lots to talk about later." She said and then pulled back, revealing to Emma that she had at some point removed her jacket while Emma was distracted. Without ceremony, Taylor pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her small, braless breasts to Emma. "But first I've been pleasuring you for a while now. Don't you think it's time to return the favor?"

Emma looked at Taylor with hungry eyes. "But..."

"Oh, don't worry." Taylor replied as she unzipped her pants. "You'll be getting fucked tonight. Who knows, if you do a good job I might even reward you with your favorite." She said with a wink. The possibility of DP being on the table was enough to push Emma over the edge of her uncertainty and confusion. Grabbing at Taylor's pants she helped to rid Taylor's long, lithe legs from their entrapments. When that was done, Taylor slowly guided Emma as she shifted their positions, leaving Taylor leaning back against the headboard and Emma on her front with Taylor's vagina in front of her face.

Taylor was already wet and ready for Emma to start, but Emma had never done anything like this before and had no idea what to do. She tried taking a deep breath to slow down her heartbeat but her nose filled with Taylor's scent, reminding her of the waiting cocks and caused her heart rate to skyrocket. With no other option but to get started if she wanted her nightly dicking, Emma tentatively stuck her tongue out and licked at Taylor's lower lips. Finding the taste of Taylor's juices to be inoffensive, even a bit tasty if she was really being honest, she licked again, this time pushing her tongue in-between Taylor's folds. When Taylor moaned softly from the pleasure she knew she was on the right track and so grew bolder, licking faster and faster at Taylor's labia.

She suddenly froze as she felt something warm and throbbing brush up against her own pussy. Taylor, feeling impatiant, placed a hand on Emma's head and softly pushed her back towards her job when she tried to look behind her. "Keep going." Taylor whispered to her, so Emma did. As she lapped at Taylor's fountain, the summoned dick began to slide up and down her vagina again, teasing her without penetrating.

Penetration was what Emma desired though and what Emma wanted, she got. She tried pushing back up against the cock, trying to force it to enter her. Taylor wasn't having it though, and expertly manipulated the disembodied dick, so that it avoided her hole while continuing to slide sensually against her vagina. With that plan of attack thwarted, Emma sought alternative methods of getting fucked. Well, she thought, if she started rubbing the outside when I started licking the outside then maybe...

Emma stuck her tongue into Taylor's cunt as far as she could, placing her lips right up against Taylor's soft, pale skin. She was rewarded with both the self-satisfaction of figuring out the puzzle and the pleasure of a large cock splitting her open and slipping into her vagina. Emma began to thrust her tongue in and out of Taylor's hole as fast as she could and the dick stretching her insides matched her pace. She kept at it and soon she felt the pressure and fire in her belly that indicated she was close to coming. Judging from how Taylor was pushing Emma's face into her crotch with both hands and rapidly moaning Emma's she was probably close too. To push her over the edge, Emma took her hand and pinched at Taylor's clit.

The effect was immediate. Unlike Emma, who frequently had to use a pillow to muffle her cries of pleasure, Taylor wasn't a screamer, instead clenching her teeth together and silently riding out her orgasm. She was, however, a squirter. Emma's mouth quickly filled with girl-juice and since Taylor wasn't letting go of her head anytime soon, she was forced to swallow. She didn't really mind as at the same time that her mouth was getting filled with girl-cum, the dick in her pussy was filling her with man-milk. Having the thick, hot cum spurting against her womb in turn set of her own orgasm and she screamed into Taylor's folds.

Relaxing her grip on Emma as her orgasm receded, Taylor mentally pulled her dick out from Emma. Emma took the opportunity to gulp air into her aching lungs. When Taylor started to pet her hair, Emma looked up and saw Taylor grinning at her.

"Good job. Think you can do that again?" Emma wasn't sure, her tongue was tired from the unexpected work out, and her doubt must have been clear because Taylor leaned in and whispered to Emma in a teasing manner. "We still haven't gotten to your favorite yet." That set Emma nodded frantically.

"Good." Taylor said with a smile. Emma wasn't sure but she thought she felt her heart flutter at that smile.

"Turn around and roll over." Taylor instructed as she spun a finger around to indicate what she wanted. When she was done she was surprised to see Taylor fishing her bottle of lube out from her drawer. How did she know that was there?

Emma decided it didn't really matter as Taylor began to pour the lube out onto her hands and rub them together to warm the liquid up. Emma was grateful for that as she felt Taylor begin to lube up her backdoor and stick an exploratory finger inside. She remembered how cold it had been the first time she had used lube.

Soon Emma was adequately prepared for the upcoming event and Taylor stopped her fingering. She then crawled up Emma's body on her hands and knees until her crotch was hovering over Emma's face.

"Ready?" Taylor asked.

Emma licked her lips and nodded. "Yes." She whispered quietly.

Taylor heard her anyways and lowered her pussy to easy licking distance. At the same time she summoned two more cocks, both of them even larger than the last one, and made them push up against Emma's two entrances.

Emma gasped as she felt her ass and her pussy get penetrated. Like always the dicks entered her slowly and gently but she knew they would pick up the pace soon enough. While she was eager for the real fucking to begin, she knew she couldn't ignore the dripping vagina in front of her face and pushed her face into it. She skipped licking at the outer lips this time and went straight for the prize, plunging her tongue in as far as she could. She tried to improve on what she did last time. Rather than just move her tongue in and out like a small penis, she took advantage of the agility of the organ, squirming up, down, and all around, hoping she was doing something worthy of being rewarded. Maybe if she was lucky she'd find Taylor's G-spot.

As Emma worked at pleasing Taylor, Taylor returned the favor by increasing the speed of her cocks' thrusts, alternating them so that when one hole was empty, the other was full. Emma, trying to figure out what to do with her hands, started to message one of her breasts with one hand, while reaching down and rubbing at her clit with the other. Unfortunately, with how tired her tongue was and the distraction of her own mounting pleasure, Emma was forced to give up on properly servicing Taylor. Her head hit the bed and she began to gasp Taylor's name.

As soon as Emma's orgasm hit, Taylor's dicks came too, filling Emma's holes with semen, which pushed her to new heights of pleasure and made Emma scream Taylor's name. Taylor eased her dicks out of Emma's punished holes and dismissed them before lying down next to the panting girl and wrapping her arms around her.

When Emma had recovered to the point where she was no longer cross-eyed she found Taylor hugging her and smiling at her. Taylor leaned in close and kiss her on the lips, a very chaste thing after what they had just done together. "Feel good?" Taylor asked.

"Oh god yes." Emma answered and Taylor's subsequent smile light up the room. Emma couldn't imagine why she had ever tried to rid the world of that smile. It was so beautiful.

"Do-" Taylor paused midsentence and bit her lip, confusing Emma. She had been so confident up until now, why was she hesitating now? "Do you think we could talk now? I'd like to know why you stopped being my friend." Taylor asked shyly, afraid of the answer.

That was too much for Emma. Taylor was her friend, one of the few people that cared about her. In fact, after tonight, Emma felt certain that Taylor was the only person who loved her. And now she was asking why Emma had hurt her as though it was Taylor's fault? As though it was Taylor who was the broken one, not Emma?

Emma broke down. She told Taylor everything. About the Alleyway, about getting attacked by the ABB, about being forced to chose what would get cut off, eyes, ears, nose or mouth. She told her about getting rescued by Shadow Stalker, about how afterwards no one would talk to her about it, like it never happened. She talked about going back to the Alley and meeting Sophia and about how Sophia told her to think about the world. And about how she had thought that she was strong and Taylor was weak, when really it was the other way around.

Throughout it all, Taylor held her close, giving her a shoulder to cry on. When Emma was finally finished and her throat was raw, Taylor kissed away her tears. Emma saw that Taylor was crying two, twin trails of tears silently running down her cheeks. "I'm sorry." Taylor whispered, so quite that Emma could barely hear her. "I'm so sorry."

"Why?" Emma croaked.

"I wasn't there for you. You were there for me when Mom died; I should have been there for you. I failed you. I'm an awful friend."

"No!" Emma shouted and immediately regretted it as the pain from her now sore throat hit. "No," she repeated quieter, "You're a wonderful friend. Even after all I did and said, you're still here, trying to help me. I'm the awful one. I hurt you, I made you cry, all because Sophia told me too. I didn't try and stop her. I can't even stand up for myself. I'm selfish and pathetic and worthless." Emma had thought she was out of tears but she was wrong. As she listed everything wrong with her, her tears started flowing once again.

"No!" Taylor said forcefully, hugging Emma so tight it was almost painful. "That's not true! Please don't say those things about yourself. Please." There was a hint of desperation in Taylor's voice. "We'll, we'll make things better. The two of us, together. I promise." The volume of Taylor's voice dropped, so low Emma had to strain her ears to hear her. "Please, just don't leave me."

Emma heard those words and her heart broke, just a little bit. Despite what Taylor said, Emma still blamed herself for everything. She wouldn't be able to forgive herself for hurting her best friend so easily but for Taylor's sake she would do her best to grow stronger and make up for her mistakes, starting with her most recent one. After all, she still owed Taylor a mind-blowing orgasm.

— —

Taylor triggered when she was almost raped by some gangsters one night. Her power is to summon any number of dicks of any shape, size and color and control them telekenetically, within a 30 ft sphere. Required secondary powers include spatial awareness within her range so that she doesn't summon a dick within a solid object. She can't see with in that 30 ft zone but she can sense things properly within a 5 ft sphere of any dicks she summons.

Thank you to TanaNari Drak4806 and Blargh for betaing. You each receive a floating dick.

Fantasy Worm

(Автор: Angush)

Preface: Another snippet for Fantasy Worm. For a little context: this takes place almost a year after the first snip (Fantasy Worm: Emma & Taylor (Proof -of-concept)) . Taylor got separated from Emma just after the first snip, and in the time between then and now she's gotten involved with a resistance movement in the hopes of rescuing Emma. And some other stuff happened. Lisa is also involved in the resistance, as she was once a priestess for the goddess Marama (hence the tattoos) before she was made a slave, and opposes the Empire's ideologies. They've known each other for a while. (see this post for an idea of her tattoos.)

Contains: lesbians. not much context. (2,479 words)

Also available in my archive thread.


* * *

I hurried down the street and ducked into an alley, the sounds of my pursuers now quiet in the distance. Halfway down the alley was a man, leaning against a door and smoking a wrap of bluegrass. He straightened as I approached.

I didn't recognise him, but evidently he recognised me. He cast a glance in the direction of the guards' shouts, where dark smoke rose into the night sky. Then, satisfied no soldiers were likely to round the corner in the next three seconds, he opened the door to the tavern behind him and ushered me in.

I moved from the entrance to the pantry, careful to keep away from any doorways leading to the tavern proper — I couldn't risk being spotted by one of the patrons. Once in the pantry, I pushed the crate of limes to the side and opened the hatch to our hideout. Then I slid down the ladder, locking the hatch behind me. The tavern workers would move the crate back and cover for me if the guard turned up asking questions; support for the resistance ran deep throughout the empire.

Once I was down, I dropped to the ground with a sigh, letting my head fall back against the wooden rungs of the ladder. I lay there for a few minutes. I was tired. Not just in the physical sense. I was tired of this, of making midnight raids on imperial storehouses and hiding in tunnels and hovels underground by day. There were things I needed to do. Important things. But instead of doing those, I was stuck here, harassing imperial supply lines. It was frustrating.

I sighed again, then stood. I told myself that yes, I might be stuck here, but soon enough the resistance army would break open Brockton's walls, and then I could go and do something I cared about. Soon.

The enhancements to my vision made navigating the darkness of the entry passage easier. I walked over to the far wall and slid open the partition to the hideout itself, and made my way to my room — which I shared with Lisa, as there were only three rooms in total, and not much space to spare down here. I pushed aside the flap and entered... then I stopped dead in place.

Lisa sat on a sheet in the center of our room, her legs crossed beneath her, hands folded in her lap in meditation. And she was naked from head to toe, a sheen of sweat covering her body, the dim light of her lantern almost seeming to make her tattoos glow green. I'd known she had tattoos, but I hadn't realised she had so many of them. I stared as her chest heaved, unable to help myself. Then her eyes opened, and she looked at me.

I turned around hurriedly. "Sorry," I said, trying and failing to put the image of her out of my mind. "I, uh... I didn't mean to interrupt."

Lisa didn't reply. I almost wondered if I'd upset her. Then: "Why did you turn away?" she said softly. Her voice made me shiver.

I swallowed. It took me a moment to find my voice. "I just... felt like I should."

I heard her laugh, and it made me shiver again. "There's no need, Taylor," she said. "Turn around."

Hesitantly, I did as she asked. She was still naked, still seated there with her breasts open to the world. To me. I wanted to look, but I didn't. I couldn't. I remained facing her but averted my eyes, fixing my gaze on an imperfection in the wooden wall behind her.

"You're doing it again." I saw her head tilt out of the corner of my eye. "It's alright, Taylor. I don't mind. You don't have to look away."

"Yes I do," I said.

"Why?"

I didn't answer.

Lisa stood and walked over to me. I swallowed and tried to ignore the way her hips swayed. She stopped in front of me, then reached out and grabbed my head with her hands. She turned my head so I faced her directly. I locked my eyes on hers and tried to pretend she wasn't naked.

"Are you attracted to me?" she said.

I twitched. "Why even bother asking?" I said. "I'm sure your goddess could tell you."

Lisa smiled. "Maybe. But I'd rather hear it from you."

I closed my eyes and breathed deep breaths. Her hands were warm against my jaw, her skin soft. I swallowed the knot in my throat again, then nodded hesitantly. "Yes."

"I thought so." I shivered again as her thumb brushed my cheek. "Yet you refuse to look at me."

"You're naked," I said, raising a hand to grab hers and hold it still. "I can't... It wouldn't be right for me to look."

"Why not?" she said. "You have my permission. I don't mind."

"It's..." I shook my head. "You wouldn't understand."

"Tell me."

I held my tongue, but it was hard to resist her. She had a way of being commanding, and I was not good at saying no. "There's someone else," I admitted, opening my eyes and looking away from her once more. "In Brockton. A girl. Someone I love."

Lisa was quiet for a moment. "And you think that indulging in your desires would be a betrayal."

It wasn't a question. I answered anyway. "Yes."

She chuckled and ran her thumb across my cheek again. "Oh, Taylor," she said. "You're wrong." I bristled. She turned my head so I faced her once more, then smiled. "For my training, I studied history and theology. A thousand years ago, long before the Empire, long before even the Cuirans and the Qwynfolk, the gods Edelis and Atia visited the earth, so that they could speak to their people directly. Are you familiar with the tale?"

I nodded.

"I thought you would be. You will know, then, that they spoke of many things. They taught our ancestors how to coexist with the animals and the plants their lord had bestowed upon us. They taught us how to fashion tools from stone and wood, and how we could harness the power of the elements to keep our kinsfolk safe and warm, and many other things.

"You may also know that they returned a hundred years later. Having seen how our ancestors condemned one another based on the sex of their chosen partners, they visited the earth once again and told us that sexuality was a mortal conceit, that we were not made to pick and choose. That a man lying with another man, or a woman lying with another woman, is as natural and holy a thing as could ever be."

"I know the story, Lisa, I just — "

She pressed a finger to my lips. "But you may not know that that is not all they spoke of, when they returned. They also said that monogamy was another mortal falsehood. And these are all things that the Empire has misconstrued for its own gain. Here, a man may take as many wives as he wishes, as things should be. But under the Emperor's rule, a woman may only take one partner, perhaps not even the one she desires. And that is wrong.

"Sex is a part of us, Taylor. One of the many fibres that form our very beings. A symbol of intimacy and love. To deny that is to deny your very self." She stepped closer, then took hold of my hands, bringing them down and placing them on her hips. I swallowed and restrained myself from pulling her closer. One of her hands landed on my shoulder, while the other came up to caress my cheek. Our eyes met. "There is nothing wrong about attraction, Taylor. Just as there is nothing wrong with acting on it, so long as both parties are willing."

I stared at her, moving as little as I could manage. I wet my lips. "You make it sound like you're willing."

Lisa smiled. She had a very nice smile. She stepped closer, pressing her body against mine. "I am."

Then she leaned in and kissed me. It was... nice. More than nice. I felt her breasts press against my chest as we tasted each other. I gripped her waist, pulling her forward so her hips were flush against mine, and she giggled into my mouth and kissed me deeper.

Then our lips broke apart. Our heads bumped together, my nose scarcely an inch from hers, though I was taller. We were both breathing harder than we had been before. I felt her exhalations against my collarbone. She smelled wonderful; a stark contrast to the stuffiness of the room around us.

I swallowed the lingering taste of her kiss. I wanted to kiss her again. "I... Emma's waiting for me to come for her," I said, breathless. "I — I know she is."

"And this won't change that, Taylor," Lisa said, her voice soft and kind. "She'll still be there when the time comes." She kissed my jaw; I turned my mouth towards hers by reflex. "She won't love you any less for what we do together when we're alone. And you won't love her any less for it either." She kissed my jaw again, then leaned back in my arms, looking me in the eyes and caressing my cheek once more. "Loving one person does not mean you have to stop loving another. It's okay."

I ran my finger along her hip, staring into her eyes. "You're right," I said, then I leaned forward, tilting my head for another kiss. Lisa did the same. Our lips met, and it felt right. I cupped her butt and picked her up, eliciting a squeak of surprise. Then I carried her over to our bedding and lowered her gently to the padded bed. Her legs circled my back, pulling me closer to her, and our kiss deepened.

I let go of her and pulled my clothes off. I wanted — I needed to feel her skin against mine, directly. To feel her warmth without any barrier. So I did. I threw my clothes to the side and pressed my body against hers, our hips and nipples meeting. Lisa moaned into our kiss. We lay there for some time, kissing and moaning, our legs rubbing against each other, our hands caressing each other's arms and sides and necks and legs, enjoying each other's bodies.

Then I pulled away from her. She whined cutely, and I gave her another kiss before moving down her body. Her skin was pale and soft, freckles spattering her collarbone like they spattered her cheeks. Her nipples were a perfect pink, poking up from her breasts, erect and tantalising. I placed my mouth over one and licked; Lisa moaned and raked her fingers up my back. Her skin was salty with sweat. I liked her taste.

While I played with her nipple, I ran a finger along one of her tattoos: a serpent, inked in abstract lines of emerald green, that curved around her breast. It ran from her ribs to her collarbone, twisting and winding every which way as it went and ending at a similarly abstract depiction of a four-pronged leaf, blowing in the wind. The designs were mesmerising. I pulled back for a better view.

Her whole body was tattooed like that, every inking a different image, a different symbol, a different meaning. Like a book of history and theology, perhaps even an account of her life and her knowledge, written on her skin in some language I could not read. All painted the purest green, the same shade as her eyes. The colour went well with her complexion.

"They're beautiful," I said, running my fingers along an image on her midriff that looked almost like a group of spirits crowding around a child — or perhaps a pack of wolves.

"Thank you," Lisa said. I could hear the pleasure in her voice. "Most people find them beautiful. When I was a slave, the man who owned me thought so too. He paid a thousand silvers for me, and made me dance for his guests."

I looked up at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to — "

"No," she said, cupping my face in her hands and smiling. "I am proud of them. They are proof of my service to Marama. And they saved me from rape. After all, he could not risk his best dancer being injured." Her smile turned sickly. "The others were not so lucky."

I crawled up her body and kissed her again, slow and passionate. Lisa moaned her appreciation and shifted beneath me. "We won't let anything like that happen again," I said.

Lisa's smile softened, becoming gentle once again. "No. We won't."

She returned my kiss and rolled us onto our sides. I felt her hand sliding down my belly, tickling my skin. Then her hand was at my sex, and her fingers were entering me and playing with my wetness. I twitched and moaned automatically, and I felt Lisa grin around our kiss.

I sent my hand down to her sex too, curling my fingers inside her and getting the same moans from her that she was getting from me. She was tight and warm and wet around me. Our tongues entwined as we deepened our kiss, our fingers continuing to explore each other's insides in the most intimate manner possible, moans of pleasure escaping from our connection.

But soon enough, we were forced to stop kissing — our gasping, panting breaths were too short to sustain our bodies for an extended kiss. Her fingers made it difficult to focus. So we lay there, staring into each other's eyes and panting each other's names as we fingered each other to the brink of climax.

Then with some unspoken communication, we kissed, and we both went over the edge. Her insides quivered around my fingers, her body trembling against mine as she cried into our kiss — and I knew my body was doing the same, though my wits had long since abandoned me.

Minutes later, we lay panting in each other's arms, a sheen of sweat coating our bodies. I felt a sudden rush of guilt, but I ignored it. Lisa was right. I'd needed that release, and Emma hadn't been here to provide it. It hadn't changed my feelings toward her. And I wasn't going to let myself feel guilty.

I looked down at Lisa, nestled in my neck. She saw me looking and grinned a tired but sultry grin. "I would kiss you," she said softly, "but I'm not sure I can move."

I smiled and planted a kiss on her forehead. "That'll have to do, I think."

Lisa shifted a little closer, her nipples rubbing my skin. "I suppose so."

We fell asleep in each other's arms.

Healthy Living Habits

(Автор: JackKent)

Emmа, mind control, oral sex

— —

It was mid-January. Taylor Hebert was gone but not forgotten. Everyone knew her name, just like everyone knew who'd put her in that stinking locker, and so Emma Barnes was happy. Every day seemed great.

Emma especially liked the day's last class, Health, even if it was tedious, because all her friends had it the same period as her. She and Sophia didn't get to see each other much during the day outside of passing period, and Madison only had Art and Algebra II with her. The rest of their clique merely cemented it. All the other girls in class feared and respected them. After getting away with shoving Taylor into that locker, they were the definitive badasses of the Sophomore class.

As usual, everyone took their seats. They weren't officially assigned, but everyone understood their place. Her, Sophia, and Madison at the center. Their posse around them. The smaller cliques of Theater girls, Athletes, and so forth orbiting around them. At the margins were the loners, freaks, and introverts.

It was only after Mr. Gladly, Winslow High's former World Issues teacher, came into the classroom and locked door that everyone lined up for inspection. Gladly didn't mind that they chatted with each other, which was nice. Sophia caught her up on the latest track team gossip. Emma listened with half an ear, mostly to humor her best friend. Athletic gossip wasn't really in her wheelhouse. The drama was abstract, the players little more than names from their yearbook. As usual, Madison was the one to offer keen-eyed analysis, because that was so her: half social creature, half persistent ladder climber.

It was what Emma liked about the brown-haired waif, that ambition. Always fighting.

"Ms. Barnes."

Emma had already shrugged off her skirt, so she hardly needed prompting to hop onto the edge of Mr. Gladly's desk. She didn't spread her knees for him. "Mr. G" was an easy mark, and a little coquettishness indulged his need to be the Big Man on Campus. It was sad.

"Ms. Barnes," he said, running hands up her smooth legs and over her bare thighs, "I see you're clean as ever." He made a note in a spiral notebook, marking her homework as completed.

Gladly hooked his fingers around the waistband of her silk panties. Emma dutifully lifted her ass of the desktop as he peeled them off. Only once they were left discarded, dangling around one ankle, did Emma part her knees. Gladly's face lit up at the sight of her bare crotch and cleft. Still, he continued the inspection, tracing fingertips along the plump flesh of her mound of Venus. "Not a hint of stubble."

"Brazilian wax."

"That's right, you model, don't you?" He patted her outer thigh, dismissing the curvy girl. Emma hoped off the desk to make way for Madison, who had kicked off her jeans to expose herself below the waist. "Once it gets warmer out, you'll have to bring in some of your bikinis."

Emma hadn't ever modeled swimwear, but she nodded nevertheless.

While Gladly chided Madison for missing a few stray hairs around her pussy, which he started trimming, Emma walked back to her desk and pulled out a shiny black dildo to practice deep-throating. Over the next few minutes, her friends joined her. The inspections didn't take much time now that everyone had learned proper grooming. Only the odd critique, like with Madison, was necessary.

Soon, the Health classroom was filled with the sound of slobbering over silicone rubber, punctuated by the occasional coughing fit as a girl pressed their gag reflex too far. Gladly patrolled around the island groupings of desks, occasionally offering advice, but mostly hunkering down beside some girls to 'rap' with them: rubbing their shoulders, their backs, urging them to relax and have fun, and occasionally sharing stories of his past bedroom exploits. It made Emma want to roll her eyes. Gladly was such a bullshitter. Like he really cared that any of them 'thoughtfully explored their sexuality and femininity', as he'd explained back on the first day of the semester, after taking over Health class. He just wanted to be the 'cool' teacher.

A prime example came once their daily deep-throating drill was over. Gladly pulled out his desk chair, turned it around, and sat with his elbows crossed on the top of the backrest. It must have been achingly hip in 2005. "Before we break into our small groups, I think it's time we finally stepped things up. Emma?"

She sat up a little, not expecting the sudden attention.

"Care to show your classmates how a cock should be sucked?"

Emma sauntered up to the front of the classroom. While putting Taylor Hebert in her place had won her major kudos, a queen still needed to remind the peasants every once in a while why she owned her throne.

Gladly turned his chair sideways, so the class could get a proper view of the action, and sat out a pillow on the floor so Emma wouldn't bruise her knees. It was a nice thought, she supposed. What help she didn't want came in him shrugging off his khakis and boxers. No fun. She might never have had a boyfriend — and wouldn't now, unless Gladly permitted it — but Emma knew enough that half the fun of a blowjob was the teasing. She could've gotten a lot of mileage out of teasing Mr. G, feeling his bulge through his pants, undoing his belt buckle with her teeth maybe and generally blowing his mind before she blew his dick.

Still, Emma committed to putting in what show she could. The redheaded teenager took hold of Gladly's heavy length in one hand. The angry flesh was molten steel wrapped in silk. She gaze it a few lazy jerks, helping work Gladly up to full mast. For a young teacher, he'd really gotten blasИ about Health class pretty quickly. The first two days of the semester, right after taking over, he'd basically just had all the girls take turns giving him handjobs and getting all weepy about it. Now, he'd actually hunkered down to occasionally teach rather than just screw around being their best friend all the time.

Clear precum smeared the tip of Mr. Gladly's cock. Emma smeared it over her palm, then worked it over the length of his cock, getting the lubrication necessary to increase the pace of her strokes. Her other hand drifted to his hairless balls. Nice that he practiced what he preached, at least.

"Today, Emma."

She was better than this, and she could prove it.

Ah well.

Mindful of her teeth, which had been lesson one, Emma lowered her face over Gladly's glans. The hot fleshy softness filled her open mouth. She swirled her tongue underneath it, like she'd seen in porn, and then pressed Mr. G's cockhead against her cheek. It visibly bulged out against the thin veil of flesh. As she did that, Emma batted her eyelashes at Gladly, locking her green eyes with his softly glowing red ones. He has nice eyes, Emma thought, not for the first time. You could lose yourself in those eyes.

Gladly hissed, knees shifting slightly, as Emma's free hand stroked at his inner thigh. Julia had found out that weak point of his during last week's handjob marathon. To exploit her advantage, Emma pulled back, all the way off his cock, with an audible 'pop' of her slick lips. The teen made a show of gathering up her long red mane and bundling it over her other shoulder. She flashed a brilliant white smile at Gladly, one she'd practice time and time again in a mirror, and had used in more than a few photo shoots. He sent an encouraging nod back at Emma. She took his length into mouth again.

Now, Emma went deeper. Her lips rolled back and forth over his girth, slowly working her way down every inch of Gladly. Odd. Was it her imagination, or was he bigger this week? His testicles definitely hadn't filled her cupped hands this way last —

A sudden buzzing in her head made it hard to think.

Eh, Emma decided. Who cares? It's just Mr. Gladly.

Eventually, the redhead reached the point where her teacher threatened to scrape against her tonsils. Emma's drilling with that dildo came in handy here, as did her determination not to look weak in front of her peers. Rather than let her throat clamp down on Gladly's generously sized cock, she did so on her gag reflex. It was the only control she had from that point forward. Gladly, squirming, grabbed hold of Emma's head. Short, violent stabs into her gaping throat ensued.

The face-fucking didn't go on for long. Even as Emma's body cried out for air, her face taking on the color of her mane, Gladly's balls clenched under her tender caresses. Her tongue, smothered under his rigid length, felt each blast of cum as it raced down his throbbing cock. Hot warmth poured down Emma's throat.

Once Gladly released her, going limp in his chair, Emma played off her discomfort. She stood as Sophia and Madison led a round of cheers, and put on a show of casually her dabbing spit-slick lips clean. The effort at coolness was somewhat undermined, however, when Gladly leaned forward and smacked her ass. "Gold star, Ms. Barnes."

"Thanks, Mr. G."

As she took her seat, feeling her teacher's plentiful seed slosh around in her stomach, Gladly shakily stood from his own. Rather than pull his pants back on, he began undoing the knot on his tie. The class took the cue and began stripping as well. Soon, everyone was naked, their clothes neatly folded and placed in the wire baskets under the desks.

"For today's group work," Mr. Gladly began, half-erect cock bobbing in the air as he paced the front of the classroom, "we're going to be breaking into pairs to practice making out. I'll tell you guys when to swap partners every so often. Since we have an odd number of girls with Taylor out sick — " Which was a polite way of saying she was in the nut house. " — a few of you will have to work in a group of three."

Madison looked skeptical. "How can three people make out together?"

Gladly smiled. "Oh, it's pretty easy, actually."

Huh. Emma didn't know that. Maybe she'd learn something from this useless class after all.

"Why don't I give you, Emma, and Sophia some pointers? Since Emma did such a great job modeling the drill for the class just now..."

Simurgh's Surprise

(Автор: vyor)

So you know how I said a while back that I would do ziz smut? I'm doing ziz smut. Kinks selected: Mass gangbang, slime monster, light body manipulation, body part enlargement, bukkake, cum stuffing, falcon crest, and... I'm not actually sure what to call this, yuri I geuss?

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

All was quiet in Austin... at least until the endbringer alarms blared. Shortly thereafter a brief surge of panic rolled through before settling right back down once they found out who was actually attacking, namely Ziz. While the residents were scared of her, they also figured that with how bad traffic was in general, she could only make it worse, and that it was probably safer to stay where they were. Statistics showed afterwards that this was the right choice, as there was an 890% increase in the amount of accidents as a direct result of her presence. An estimated 40% of said increase was caused by people trying to get a good look at her breasts.

Heroes and villains alike rushed to help defend the city. Attendance was at an all time high, the early detection system doing it's job well, but there were a few that wouldn't normally be at an endbringer attack, let alone one from the angel of madness. Notably, Amy Dallon and the rest of New Wave, the Undersiders, and Leet. All of whom played a part in what happened next.

"Leet, is that, what did you call it again?" Skitter sounded as commanding as ever, intimidating the b-list villain into submission... accidentally.

"The Null Rod, and it's ready... I think." It was the first time he had made anything even remotely like it, and using components made by other tinkers to boot, so it probably wouldn't explode. Or at least that's what he told himself.

"Great, maybe with this we can deal with her once and for all. I'm going to see if Panacea has held up her end." She sounded positively chipper at that, Amy's response was far less so.

"I've held up my end, so long as you don't threaten me with a knife, again, this well go well." In truth she almost wanted that, the last time had haunted her (wet)dreams for months. The smooth silk rubbing against her body, the knife so perfectly placed to slit her throat or cut off her clothes, her... and she's off staring into the distance. Again. As this was a usual occurrence for her, no one commented on it, though Tattletale's grin got slightly wider.

"So what gave you this idea anyway?" Leet directed this to said perpetually grinning girl, who reacted predictably.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing." Her eyes darted around, seeking a way out.

Which is when Regent helpfully chimed in, "She noticed that her powers don't work as well on them, and thought that she saw a lot of herself in-"

"She's the only being on the planet I can do this with, don't you take this away from me!" The group stepped back as one, away from the clearly insane thinker.

Skitter spoke up, the only one with the nerves to speak at all, "Right, let's go over there to set up, Tattletale, you can stay right there until we need you. K? K."

Observers of the following retreat swore that each of them had a Mover rating at that moment.

Eventually, after a lot of bickering, a morale killing speech that went on too long, several red faces, and more than a few 'wellness' packages, Ziz, the Hopekiller, arrived.

And was promptly shot down from the sky, a brief moment of utter and complete bafflement and a blush with an intensity that rivalled Armsmaster when someone switched his tinkertech coffee with an ultra caffeinated version.

Assault nearly didn't survive the resulting wrath from almost everyone on the base.

Instead of the crash sound most would expect from such a large creature hitting the ground at terminal velocity, there was a very loud, very wet, squelch.

The blond haired thinker beamed before rushing over, telltale wetness trailing down her legs, making her shoes squish with every step. That was fine, they weren't going to be on for very much longer.

By the time she had arrived the biological mass that caught the creature had wrapped around it, pulling its wings away to reveal almost perfectly proportioned assets.

Noticing the girl's arrival, the angelic being shot her a look that perfectly summed up all of its thoughts at the moment, the vast majority of which consisted of variations on the phrase "What the actual fuck?" The grin turned into a predatorily smug one, commonly associated with a certain canid species, and descriptions therein.

"Well~, you're very clearly in need of this, I don't need my power to tell me that, and I know I need this, so really, I think you should just lay back and enjoy it."

Ziz blinked dumbly before shaking, her mouth opening into an "Oh" shape, before collapsing, a dazed look on it's face.

Behind her, Amy called out, "Yup, she's accurate in every way. Well, not every, she's more sensitive than most, but that just means this will be more fun." Though Tattletale couldn't see it(even if that didn't stop her from knowing about it), the healer smirked, "I think, being that it was her plan, Tats should go first!" While this revealed her secret fetish for green eyed athletic blond girls(why else would she lust after her sister?), she did not care, she just really wanted to see the other girl who haunted her dreams along with bug girl, her sister, narwal, and many, many others, writhe in pleasure. Preferably naked.

Tattletale didn't care about any of that, but happily agreed, both really turned on, and wanting to get out out her now soaking costume. She left her mask on of course, though Amy had changed all of them enough that no one would really be able to recognize who they were out of costume. Chiefly by giving them all a nice tan and slightly changing their bone structures. Though in Grue's case she made the skin white.

Within moments the girl was on top of the large angel, crotch resting above its mouth, "Lick and other people will join in~"

Knowing that the only way to get free at this point was to just comply and get fucked by every cape that wanted a go(and did that send a thrill through her), she did, her tongue snaking out and almost touching the cape's entire falcon crest at once, before plunging inside, the being's incredible powers driving every movement, quickly causing the girl to collapse, allowing its lips, so far unused, to assault the sensitive spots outside her body, especially the engorged clit.

Tattletale screamed as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her, only realizing then that Amy, the wonderful girl she is, had removed the refractory period from the ones she modified, her last coherent thought before her mind melted into a useless mess of pleasure and sensation was that she should thank the biomancer very vigorously after it was all over.

Amy for her part was the most turned on she'd been since the last big hero meetup, where Vicky and Miss Militia both hugged her before Rune was apprehended by them both. By hand. With many grapples. Come to think of it, that may have been a dream of hers.

Her arousal was further enhanced when, on a whim, she started helping Skitter out of her costume. She had to resist touching herself as she did that.

Grue was faster than both of them, though the increased size of his cock gave him a bit of trouble taking off his pants. He quickly made his way towards the supernaturally beautiful thing.

His cock had been made to suit the increased size of the endbringer, and it slid in with little resistance, both a testament to Amy's work and how turned on the porcelain creature was. It felt heavenly, every movement perfectly tailored to cause as much pleasure to him as possible. He started thrusting immediately, one hand gripping one of the large thighs to either side of him and the other playing with its clit.

The endbringer made its first ever true sound at that moment, a low moan that almost shook the air. Tattletale screamed again, only not falling off due to the efforts of Ziz, who desired to wring out every last drop of her juices, and the slime, slowly wrapping around her legs at Panacea's orders to keep her there.

The moan, and scream, became more intense as tentacles from the same slime made their way into the asses of both noisemakers.

It was too much for the teen to take as he came, and came, and came. More cum than anyone had any right to produce pouring out of him, filling the creature's vagina completely.

Panting slightly, he started to pull out, eyes widening as the slime rushed into the hole, trapping the cum inside. The Simurgh shook again, the juices that would normally come out diverted through another tentacle and right into the formerly smug blond's mouth, replacing all of her lost fluids. She instinctually whimpered, powers informing her hind brain what happened and why, Amy didn't want to give the girl any rest.

Other capes were filtering in now, some just jerking off to the sight, some fucking the creature's cum and slime filled holes, even some of Bitch's dogs joined in, Ziz really liked it when that happened. For her part, she guided Skitter through pleasuring the large breasts, smirking every once in awhile at her student or at her 'victim'.

Capes started cuming then, covering or filling the winged being. And if the slime took some to feed someone, or fill another up, well, no one noticed that.

The orgy slash gangbang lasted for five hours, once everyone had had their fill they let her fly off, an utterly contented smile plastered on her face along with several gallons of cum, some of which was leaking out of her two lower holes.

Some of the participants couldn't speak or move properly for several days, or over 2 weeks in one case, after the event.

This set the trend for all future Simurgh battles, though none were as grand as the first.

Oddly, the rest of New Wave only showed up after the battle was done and the slime dissolved. As they were covered and filled with cum, particularly Glory Girl who was slightly bloated from the amount, it is thought that they were dealing with lust crazed ziz bombs, though that doesn't explain why they were so touchy with Panacea afterwards nor why they never said what they were doing. Still, I'm sure none of you are interested in that, are you?

Beauty and Beast

(Автор: Biskoff)

Glory Girl flew through the night sky grumbling to herself. Stupid Dean. Stupid Vista. Stupid everybody. Why couldn't they cut her a break for one day. She was a Brute. She was supposed to hit things. But it was always `No, don't do that' or `Why can't you stop someone without punching them?' She made a kicking motion midair, pretending Dean's groin was in front of her.

She'd been flying for almost half an hour now. There were no sightings or reports of anything or anyone for her to take her frustrations out on. No robberies. No turf fights between capes. There weren't even any Nazis out. There were always Nazis out!

Suddenly she sighed. For the first time in a long time, Brockton Bay was quiet.

Lame.

She caught a flicker of movement by an old parking structure. The blonde turned to focus on it. She licked her lips in the chilly air and moved slightly closer. She saw a tail sway along the edge of an external staircase.

A tail. There were only two beings in Brockton Bay that had tails like that. One was Newter: out of town with the rest of Faultline's crew. That left...

Glory Girl smiled. There he was. He'd left the lower levels and was pacing near the center of the building. Waiting for something... or someone.

She flew straight down at top speed, falling feet first. She clasped her hands together and raised them over her head. She fell faster and faster, bearing down on the unaware figure. Her cape and skirt flapped in the wind as she accelerated.

Finally she was on him. She brought her hands down in an overhead strike directly on the monster cape's head. The hit was so powerful the beast broke through the pavement of the parking structure and into the floor below. A cloud of dust and dirt kicked up and blocked him from sight. Glory Girl immediately flew back up and out of range of any jump it might make.

She waited for several long, tense moments as the dust cleared... only for the creature to not be there.

`Shit.' She spun around midair to scan her surroundings. She looked at the edges of the building to check if he had crawled up to ambush her from behind. Nothing. She looked back down the hole in the floor. Nothing.

Her fists clenched. She knew better than to go down the hole and get into close quarters with him but she might not have a choice. She made one final, slow spin to take in the rooftop level. There was still no sound and no movement. She lowered her altitude slowly, keeping her senses alert. Still nothing. She descended through the hole and hovered in the air to look around the garage.

Nothing.

"Where the hell are-" Then the beast dropped in from the very hole she just came from, kicking her in the chest and sending her into a support pillar thirty feet away. Her force field flickered for an instant as she impacted before reengaging. She coughed twice and thumped her chest from the blow. She quickly kicked off and floated a foot above the ground, taking in the sight of her opponent.

The creature was large and intimidating, even crouched on all fours like some animal. Its front hands were tipped with inches-long claws. The digitrade hind legs were just as armed, three curved talons in the front of the feet and two in the back. They'd dug into solid concrete like it was nothing more than foam. Its whole body was a dark black, lined with corded muscle. It was covered with... not skin, not leather and not carapace, but something like all three. Flexible but solid. There were thin slits along the arms and legs, on the broad back and on either side of a horse-like neck.

A line of ridges trailed along its spine. They ended at a long snakelike tail that extended from the lower back. It was swaying back and forth dangerously. It was roughly as long as its owner's body. Glory Girl made sure to keep a good distance.

The face was barely humanoid. The head and snout was elongated, as if someone had pushed the heads of a wolf and a crocodile into one. Rows of teeth were visible under curled, snarling lips. Two golden eyes, glinting in the light, watched and evaluated her with frightening intelligence.

"Manticore." Glory Girl stated. Her breathing was fast. She couldn't allow herself to screw this up.

Manitcore didn't answer at first. He pushed himself off his front limbs and stood, rising to his full height. She was a foot above the ground and he was still taller than her. Nine feet, easy. He opened his elongated mouth, showing off rows of viciously curved teeth. She could hear the popping sounds as he dislocated his jaw and massaged his mouth and neck from her hit.

She knew he didn't really need to. He was doing it to unnerve her.

"Is that how we're doing things tonight, Glory Girl? Hitting from above? No warning? Not very heroic. Whatever happened to `put your hands on your head'?" His voice was deep but surprisingly eloquent. She knew he was smarter than most gave credit for.

"Yeah well, I've had a bad day. Sucks for you." Glory Girl levitated around him. Taking in the location and which parts of their surroundings Manticore might take advantage of. A few pieces of leftover rebar, some cinder blocks, and rubble from the ceiling. Pillars to hide behind and a roof for him to crawl on. That same roof would take precious seconds for her to punch through and fly away. Seconds he would use to his advantage.

This was really not her playing field.

"Reckless and rude. I guess you're trying to hit all the lows today?" Manticore mocked.

"Bad. Day." Glory Girl grit out. "Do you really want to push me?"

Manticore raised a clawed hand and gesture at her. "Ah, yes. Your argument with Gallant is all over PHO. Picking on Vista? For shame."

Glory Girl's eye twitched. Vista had started that stupid fight. How did it even get on PHO? The only other person there had been Amy. So either Vista or Gallant... damn it. She shook her head and focused.

"I heard you didn't fare so well. Picking on a child and running away when it outwits you?"

"I'm gonna punch you in the face." Glory clenched her fists as her shoulders rose in anger.

The inhuman head shook back forth contemptuously but its intense gaze never left her. A long tongue clicked at her, scolding her. "Once again, all brawn and no brain. And once again I'm disappointed in your limited responses. Disappointed. Not surprised."

She stared at him for a long moment as his words sank in. Out of all her good points, the one that was most overlooked was her intelligence. The one that was most ignored. Amy, Dean, even her mom seemed to gloss over that she. Was. Not. Dumb.

Coupled with her Bad Day, it was just too much.

"Fuck you!" Glory Girl bent down and picked up the leftover fender of a car and sped at him. He blocked the hit and lashed out with a long leg. She caught his strike and spun, using a combination of her flight and her strength to spin him into a column.

It was then she realized her mistake. By throwing him past herself, she'd entered the range of his tail. It whipped out and wrapped around her ankle, pulling her along.

Then things got worse. All of the thin openings on his body began to vent a fine purple mist. With him trailing ahead of her, she was caught in its wake.

She made a single yelp before closing her mouth and stopping her breathing. They landed harshly and instantly resumed the fight. Glory Girl landed a powerful kick into Manticore's abdomen to make his tail let go. In response the monstrous cape sent a vicious hook to her face.

The blonde tried to roll with the blow, taking the motion to get a distance away from the gas. She looked around her for more colored gas took before breathing again. There were goosebumps on her skin and it felt like her whole body was tingling.

She must have taken some in. Or was it absorbed through the skin? Shit.

The mist was still being pumped out of Manticore's body, spreading out further each second. Glory Girl winced. She didn't want to run but she might not have a choice...

She glanced at the hole she'd made in the ceiling, wondering if she could make it.

Manticore noticed. The purple mist stopped being exhausted. His massive frame crouched low and he snarled. A second later the vents on his body expanded. High temperature, high pressure gas was released from the vents along his back, legs and shoulders. He propelled himself at Glory Girl just as she moved her eyes away from the ceiling and back to him.

He slammed into her in a full body tackle. They started to roll on the ground, punching and kicking and grappling. The speed vents cut out and he resumed releasing the purple mixture. Glory Girl held her breath again. That was all the advantage he needed. After many long seconds of grappling, her strength began to falter. She was running out of oxygen to move her body. He managed to pin her, one of his limbs on each of hers.

Her force field kept him from applying pressure on the trapped limbs. That didn't help much when his claws were anchored into the asphalt.

"You know what happens next. Don't you, Glory Hole?" The monster's voice was soft and raspy. Manticore leaned down towards face. An elongated tongue rolled out of his maw, trailing drool. The burning gold eyes stared down at her. With each breath he took more of the purple mist was exhumed from his nose and mouth and the vents along his body. The area around them was smothered in the colored gas.

Glory Girl knew the fight would be over the instant she breathed in. She struggled to move her arms but they were pinned down hard.

Then she felt something brush her skirt. She glanced down and her eyes widened. Her struggles increased.

Manticore's tail was reaching under her skirt and lifting the fabric up. And next to it... next to it was a cock. It was jutting out from his groin, just as oversized as its owner. Even from Manticore's crouching position, its tip was brushing against her clothes.

She managed to lift her arms a few inches before they started to ache. Manticore slowly pushed them back into the pavement.

The wicked face above gave a deep, barking laugh. A thick plume of the mist fell right onto her face.

"Now, now. Be a good Glory Hole and don't move."

The wide cockhead between her legs jerked. Something smeared into the white shorts beneath her skirt.

No. Nonono. Fuck no. Fuck this. This was not how this was going to go down.

Glory Girl flared her aura, pushing the current to its maximum. Manticore's eyes widened and his tongue, an inch away from the opening to her shirt, retracted.

The heroine took the opportunity and slammed her knees into his legs. Manticore hissed as the grip on her legs disappeared. She tucked her legs up to her chest and planted her feet in his gut. She pushed up with all the force she could muster. His hands lost their hold on her wrists.

Glory Girl smiled viciously and swung a fist up into the bottom of his fanged snout. She heard his teeth snap against each other as his head was flung upwards. The force from her hit made his head slam into the ceiling above and bury it in rock and rebar.

Then Manticore's tail struck her dead in the chest, slamming her down into the concrete. The lash was hard enough to crater the pavement and short out her force field. She gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. She was only vaguely aware of Manticore twisting his body and latching onto the ceiling as she struggled to make her lungs work again.

The ground gave way. Age, lack of maintenance, and the fresh damage was simply too much. She fell along with the asphalt and concrete onto the floor below.

She roughly hit the ground as dust and purple mist fell down around her. Her force field had snapped back before she landed, so the drop hadn't hurt much. She coughed one final time and managed to take in a lungful of air.

She took several deep breathes, relishing the cool air as it soothed her burning lungs. In seconds the pain was leaving her. There was something almost comforting about the sweet-smelling night air—

Her eyes widened.

She realized what she'd done. She'd breathed it in.

She wasn't the only one who noticed.

"There we are," Manticore taunted as he loomed over the hole above. "Nice, deep breaths."

Glory Girl had already closed her mouth and stopped inhaling... but she knew it was too late. Already the soothing cold was leaving her, replaced with a rapidly growing heat. She could feel her skin flush and pussy moisten. Her nipples hardened under her bra; every movement of her undergarments was setting her off.

She flew off the ground and made for the edge of the parking structure. She was halfway before Manticore caught up with her. Streams of superheated air were coming out of the vents on his back and legs, pushing him to extreme speed. A swipe from his arm caught her by the leg. He swung her back towards the center of the building. She hit the asphalt and rolled to a stop.

She was getting hotter. Her movements were getting clumsy as she resisted the signals her body was sending her.

"Did you know, Glory Hole, that I can secrete any of my toxins without anyone noticing? You see the color indicates a concentrated dose."

She heard the clacking of his clawed feet get closer.

Glory Girl's couldn't smother a lustful moan as she groped one of her breasts without thinking. Her other hand was halfway down her shorts when she saw Manticore, watching her intently. Pride warred with desire. It felt so god damned good... but she forced her hand away. She had no intention of masturbating in front of him here.

She rolled onto her side as Manticore spoke again.

"This little cocktail is one of my favorites. Increased sensitivity. Improved stamina. A chemical boost to the libido. It even induces a certain elasticity to the body. I give you a minute before it takes full effect. Before you give in. Then the fun will really start."

Glory Girl managed to push herself to her knees.

She fought against the urges of her betraying body and stood up. With practiced ease she slid into a fighting stance. Her arms were shaking and her legs wobbly as the gas took effect. Even her eyes were fighting her and tracing Manticore's tall figure. His muscled legs and arms, built for speed and power. There were no clothes to hide his slender, athletic, monstrous form. At the enormous cock that hung down between his thighs.

Glory Girl was not a small person. Nearly six feet tall. A perfectly proportioned body with long limbs, toned from working out and an active lifestyle. And that cock was still bigger, thicker than her forearm.

Her pussy clenched at the sight of it. At the very thought of taking it. With her oversensitive skin, she could feel her own juices starting to soak her panties.

She stared at it for a long moment before she forced her eyes back up to his.

But she still managed to stand. Her defensive stance didn't waiver. She clenched her fists and willed her body to fight.

Several feet away Manticore stared at her. His stance was different. His arms were lowered and his tail slack. But his eyes... the golden eyes were observing all of her actions with smoldering intensity.

She felt herself flush further under that gaze.

Finally Manticore spoke.

"You really are something else."

Then he moved. His feet pushed off the asphalt and propelled him straight at her.

His arms wrapped around her upper body, sliding over her force field but also keeping her from flying away. He kept running, keeping her off balance and forcing her to struggle to keep any amount of control. Worst of all, Manticore's body was releasing more of the purple gas.

She didn't know how much she had breathed in but she knew she had. Her head was swimming and her skin was reacting to everything. Every rough movement, every time her bra and panties shifted, sent blasts of pleasure into her brain.

Several seconds later they slammed into a concrete pillar. Her force field flickered out.

His clawed fingers wrapped themselves around her wrists and pulled them upwards over her head. He trapped both of her wrists in the grip of his much larger hand and pushed them against the pillar. His free arm shot down, grabbing her waist and spinning her around. Then he pressed her upper body and face into the solid stone. The chilled concrete made her gasp.

Her legs were left dangling, inches above the ground.

"Your force field's not stopping me anymore. What do you think that means?" He licked her, a warm wet tongue dragging up from her neck to her cheek.

Victoria moaned as her face and breasts were pushed harder into the concrete pillar. The hot tongue on one side of her face and the cold rock on the other made her breath catch.

"I think you want this." Manticore answered his own question.

Then she felt it. Felt the enormous cock flopping onto her ass and lower back, incredibly wide and impossibly long. The warmth it was giving off was intoxicating. She could feel a hot, thick bead of precum drop from its slit onto the exposed skin between her shirt and skirt. The clawed hand at her waist tightened, then pulled her lower half further up. Manticore ground his hips back and forth. The movement and sheer weight of his dick caused it to burrow between her ass cheeks.

Glory Girl moaned at the sensations. The friction of her nipples against the hard surface. The clawed hands holding her arms and clasped around her slim waist. The cock that was spreading her open but not the way she needed.

But even dosed in chemicals, in aphrodisiacs and stimulants and who knew what else... she was not going to beg. Not like this.

Instead she ramped up her aura and smothered his perception of her. Beauty, awe, wonder, glory. She turned her head and made eye contact. She smirked.

A challenge.

Behind her, Manticore stiffened. All of him. The fingers clasped over her hands tightened. She could hear his feet dig in to the pavement. He pressed himself further against her, trapping her body between him and the concrete pillar. Her grunt turned into a long, low moan as the claws at her waist shifted, talons scraping along her taut abdomen. She felt something slither down the front of her shorts and under her panties. She looked down and saw his tail snaking toward her groin, then shuddered as the warm appendage brushed her swollen clit.

He shifted her lower half again and pulled his cock away from her ass. The tail flexed under her clothes. With a single clink the latch of her belt buckle popped off. The prehensile tail then twisted through the leg of her shorts and pulled them down.

Manticore's hot breath came close to her ear. "Ready, Glory Hole?" He growled.

She didn't get a chance to answer before the enormous cock slammed into her. His hips rolled forward as his powerful arm pulled her waist back.

The monstrous cape hissed in pleasure.

Glory Girl, overwhelmed with the chemicals, climaxed instantly. Her oversensitive pussy convulsed around the shaft inside her. Her toes curled and her limbs shook. Her eyes rolled up as she was torn between screaming in ecstasy and gasping at the total fullness inside her. All she managed was a drawn out, broken mewl.

But the thrusting didn't continue. The pleasure from her orgasm slowly faded. She tried to rock her hips back and forth, silently demanding he keep going. But his grip on her waist was barely letting her move.

She shivered as his tongue dragged over her cheek and then dropped to the curved of her neck.

Dazedly, she looked down. There, between the valley of her breasts, she could see it. She could see the outline of the cock in her overstretched pussy. Her normally flat pelvis was distended from its girth. The swell kept going, up into her toned abs and finally ending with the bulge of his cockhead above her bellybutton.

Only when he was sure she'd burned the sight into her mind did he start moving. Manticore pushed the blonde back into the wall as he pulled out with his hips. His cock withdrew from her until only a few inches were left inside. Then he repeated the first motion, pulling Glory Girl into him until her round ass slapped his groin and he was sheathed in her cunt.

Glory Girl gasped as his cock started to saw in and out of her pussy in a constant rhythm. She gave a weak groan as the pleasure ramped up again. The chemicals in her body pushing her fast to her next peak.

Within a minute she climaxed again. Her juices dripped down his cock and to the floor.

He didn't stop his solid, repetitive movements. She had barely recovered from her last orgasm as she felt the next one approach.

She tried to prepare herself for it. Tried to pace her breathing or calm her reactions or just think. But her senses were on fire. Her pussy was soaked with pre and stretched beyond its limits. Every stroke in and out, every time he hilted himself sent lightning through her mind. Every time he pushed her against the rough, cold wall, and every time his warm breath brushed her back made her shudder. She clamped down around his cock as she came a third time in as many minutes.

Instinctively she began to react to his thrusting, rocking her body as he pushed and pulled and fucked her.

She hung her head down and stared as the bulge in her body shrank and grew with each noisy slap of their skin. She gasped as his pace picked up and her ass became tender from the strengthening thrusts.

His long snout came up and rested in the crook of her neck. His hot breath washed over her face. She groaned as he adjusted his grip on her waist. Manticore's long fingers were now pressing down on her lower stomach, heightening the pressure as his hands pushed in and his cock pressed out. The hot, thick tongue snaked out of his maw and down her sweaty skin. It wrapped around one of her breasts and over a hypersensitive nipple. She managed half a lustful moan before another, stronger thrust into her battered pussy cut it off. The slimy tongue moved her breast and squeezed before shifting to her other tit.

Her own tongue started to loll out of her mouth. Her hair and shirt was matted with sweat as she worked her body as much as she could. She tried to wrap her legs around his waist but the angle was all wrong. She barely managed to lift one of her legs over his before his tail slapped her ass and she spasmed around his cock. She tried to free her hands to help the tongue grope her breasts or the cock pleasure her pussy. It was useless. Her arms were trapped, held above her in an iron grip as she was used like a living sex toy.

The world faded to nothing but his warm tongue on her tits and his cock spearing into her. In and out and in and out. She climaxed again. And again. And again. So many times the muscles in her cunt were starting to ache even with the chemical cocktail Manticore had infected her with.

She didn't know how long he'd been thrusting into her but finally, finally his own breath hitched.

He shifted his grip away from her hands and wrapped his claws around her neck and shoulder. Glory Girl lowered her arms and fumbled over the concrete as he railed her. She couldn't find anything to hold onto, so she pushed her hands against the pillar for support.

The pace grew more frenzied. Manticore was pulling her on and off his shaft as she rolled her hips with each motion. With each pull down he slammed his hips into her ass, now pink with soreness.

Her fingers dug into solid concrete as she grunted with the rough pounding. Her thoughts were jumbled as her cunt squeezed the immense cock inside her. Glory Girl's face was slack from constant orgasm: eyes half lidded in mind-bending pleasure and her tongue hanging out of a drooling mouth.

Manticore pulled her almost entirely off his length and waited for a single, agonizingly long moment. Then he slammed his hips forward. The concrete pillar they were up against cracked.

His cock swelled and unloaded stream after stream of thick cum. Her pussy rippled around him. The cum filled her in seconds, her abdomen expanding even further as he stuffed her with his seed. The hot, liquid pressure in her pussy and womb sent her sensitive nerves over the edge. She climaxed constantly as her wet, grasping cunt was packed. More came. Too much for it all to stay inside her. The warm cum spilled out of her pussy and around his flexing cock, trailing down her legs in thick rivulets and splattering around Manticore's clawed feet.

She could feel Manticore take deep, shuddering breaths as his cock slowly stopped filling her. His tongue lazily moved over her breasts once more before withdrawing into his mouth. The bumpy appendage trailed over her nipples,

He placed both of his clawed hands on her waist and slid her off his cock with deliberate slowness. Both of them shuddered as inch after girthy inch was pulled out.

Finally he finished lifting her up. Cum drooled out of her gaping cunt. Still being held up, the blonde ran her hands over her swollen midsection. Glory Girl stared in shock at how much he'd filled her and how much she'd been able to take. She could feel the huge load inside her shift as he moved her. She pressed down slightly on the bulge. She mewled feebly as more of his jizz fell out of her punished snatch and dribbled down her twitching legs.

Then Manticore dropped her. Her knees landed in the puddle of cum and she managed to throw her hands forward to brace against the pillar. She slowly turned around so she was sitting on the seed-covered floor and her back was leaning against the fractured column.

For a moment Glory Girl stared up at the monstrous figure. His broad chest was heaving as he stood still. His hands were slack at his sides. The long tail was mostly still, only the tip thumping the ground sporadically as Manticore came down from his climax. A sheet of his own seed was coating his lower legs and feet.

Already the soreness from the brutal fucking was fading. The lust toxins were now able help her body recover, now that she wasn't being pounded into a wall.

She lowered her gaze.

The tip of the massive prick hung just inches in front of her face. It was still mostly erect, thick and solid and pointing straight at her. Even after the thorough fucking she'd just experienced, with the chemicals pumping through system she was still aroused. Still ready. Still wanted more.

Without thinking she leaned her forward and opened her mouth. The wide cockhead was coated with a sheen of their combined cum. A strand of white jizz was trailing down to the same puddle of seed that had come out of her cunt. The heady, musky smell was intoxicating.

Her tongue reached out to taste it—

Then her eyes focused. She caught herself mid-action and pushed her head back against the wall. She looked back up at the towering figure.

He'd seen her movement. His face was pointing down at her as his long tongue licked his lips. His golden eyes were narrowed in anticipation.

"Go on."

Glory Girl didn't move. She did her best to ignore the desire to taste his cock and his cum. To see just how much she could take while affected by the body altering toxins.

"Go on." Manticore taunted. "Be a good Glory Hole..." He moved one of his clawed legs a half step forward. "... and suck."

She leaned forward. Her mouth tantalizingly close to the head of the thick shaft.

"Make me." Then she ramped her aura and leaned back again.

His cock stiffened as her aura washed over him. He drew in a single, ragged breath. Partly in awe. Partly in irritation.

Manticore's leaned forward and placed on of his hands on the pillar. The other reached down and grabbed her hair.

For a split second she thought about fighting further. Then Manticore took a small step forward, pressing the tip against her closed mouth. The odor nearly overwhelmed her. It had to be another of his toxins. It had to be. It didn't smell like any one thing but she still wanted it.

The only thing she could do -barely— was keep her lips sealed.

Manticore stared down at her and she returned his gaze. Her aura was still going strong, still making him perceive her as something glorious even as she sat in a pool of his warm cum.

She felt something long and narrow wrap around her bloated middle. Her eyes widened as she understood: his tail. She'd been looking up and the wide prick at her mouth had blocked her from seeing it.

Then his tail tightened. She gasped as the huge load of cum was pressed out of her sore cunt. It gushed over her swollen clit and parted pussy lips. Her toes curled as she was reminded just how sensitive her body was.

The instant her mouth opened Manticore shoved his cock in. The girth was simply too much, her lips scraped along its sides and a layer of cum was smeared around her mouth and chin.

Her eyes rolled up.

It tasted amazing. Salty, sweet, spicy. It was addicting. It shouldn't have tasted this good. There was no reason for it taste this good. She pushed out her tongue, brushing the underside of the enormous phallus and covering it in as much seed as she could manage.

She was lost.

Manticore pulled her hair as he pushed his hips forward. More of his cock entered her mouth, her lips stretching obscenely around its thickness. The he pulled back, pulling out until just his cockhead remained. He grunted once as his cock spasmed for just a moment.

She moaned as large blob of precum oozed onto her tongue. Glory Girl's eyes became unfocused as she continued to mindlessly suck. The scent, the taste, the thickness. Each second his cock was in her mouth pushed her further into a lust-fueled haze. All she could think was `more'.

Manticore rolled his hips forward again, shoving more his shaft into her mouth. Glory Girl moaned wantonly as it struck the back of her mouth. He pulled back again and used his grip on her hair to keep her in place.

He moved forward faster this time and made the blonde's eyes widen at the increased force. Another shift of his hips, back and forth. His wide cockhead pressed against the entrance to her throat. Back and forth. She gurgled and groaned as the chemical cocktail let her throat and mouth widen in a way it never could have before.

The monstrous-looking parahuman withdrew one more time. He growled, the rumble traveling all the way through the cock in her mouth.

He pushed in, ramming his cock past her mouth and into her throat. It bulged and expanded, making way for its entire length just as her pussy had. Glory Girl's legs twitched as she brought her arms up to clutch his waist. She tried to push him as her air was cut off. Manticore didn't seem to care. He was panting harshly, not moving as her throat rippled and clenched around his cock.

Finally he pulled back. Once more he withdrew his length until the head was resting at her lips. Glory Girl breathed harshly through her nose.

"You have your arms back. Use them." His voice was rougher than normal. Frayed and needy.

He followed his statement by shoving his cock back into her tight throat.

Glory Girl raised her hands around the thick meat. She pressed her fingers into the hard shaft as it moved in and out of her mouth. She didn't move them at first, letting his thrusts do most of the work.

But as he kept thrusting, as her throat got used to being stretched impossibly wide, the scent started to affect her again. The lust toxins still in her system urged her to do more. To get more of that delicious cum.

She started to hum and moan around his cock as it slid into her. Her fingers started to massage and grip and twist around the immense length. More pre was released into her mouth and throat, clouding her senses with its taste and scent. She swallowed whenever there was too much, the motion causing Manticore to purr as her throat contorted around his cock. Yet each time she swallowed, each time her mouth emptied, she was consumed with a single thought.

She needed more.

Her arms moved faster and faster. Sliding up and down the length of whatever wasn't in her mouth and throat. Her hands were coated in the cum and spit that was lathered on his wide cock.

Above her, Manticore rumbled in satisfaction. His claws were tangled in her long blonde hair but he wasn't pushing or pulling. He didn't need to guide her motions any more. Not when she was doing so well by herself.

Glory Girl could feel her stomach fill with precum as she continued to suck and Manticore continued to fuck her throat.

Eventually the beast cape's purring started to get more erratic. His thrusts got harsher and less controlled. Glory Girl didn't even care by then. All she wanted was for him to cum in her mouth, to give her so much of the addicting liquid.

One final time he shoved his length down her mouth. His claws dug into the concrete floor. His hand on the pillar left a trail of gashes through the stone as he reached down to hold her head.

Her neck jerked as she tried swallow the thick cock filling her mouth. The head was down her convulsing throat, flooding her stomach to the brim almost instantly.

She tried to push him back out of her throat and was surprised when he let her. Then she realized why. He'd stopped letting her push until the tip of his cock was resting between her lips. Still releasing spurt after spurt of his cum into her mouth.

Again the scent and taste assaulted her senses. She orgasmed, her toes curling as her tongue was coated in the amazing cum.

The blonde's slender fingers traced his cock as it spasmed in her grip. She felt the underside shift as more cum flowed through. She knew she should swallow but didn't want to. She let Manticore fill her mouth and didn't protest as his jizz poured out of her slack lips.

It coated her chin. She breathed in deeply through her nose, savoring the smell of his sex. She shut her eyes as it flowed down and over her breasts.

Slowly the seed stopped coming. Vaguely she was aware of his cockhead leaving her mouth. Glory Girl closed her lips as it pulled away, keeping the cum trapped in mouth. She started swallowing, little by little emptying the large load in her mouth. When she finished she took a gasp of air, white-tainted saliva drooling from her exhausted lips.

Manticore took in Glory Girl's form. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing raggedly. Her shirt was covered in the cum she hadn't swallowed. Her heaving breasts were funneling his thick seed, forming a stream of white down the center of her chest.

"I suppose we're done here?" He asked lightly.

Glory Girl managed to open one eye. She looked up at him and then back down at the now drooping cock.

"Who said... who said... we were... done?" The words were slow and slurred together. She tried to flare her aura again but didn't quite manage. "Had a bad... day..."

Manticore stared at her for a long, long moment.

Then he wrapped his tail around her waist and lifted her up. He walked forward and gripped her thighs with his clawed hands. He kept moving forward until he was pressing her up against the battered concrete pillar. She whimpered at the cold rock pressing on her back and ass, the broad muscles against her breasts and the hot cock resting along her abs. He shifted her legs, allowing her to wrap them around his waist.

Glory Girl licked the tip of his muzzle. Her small tongue brushed against his lips and fangs until he opened his mouth. He pushed his own tongue out to meet hers. The blonde in his grasp moaned at the nearly tame `kiss'.

He shifted his legs and lowered himself until his cock was at the entrance of her pussy. Slowly, gently, he entered her again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~?

Victoria Dallon opened her bleary eyes and winced at the bright light coming in from the edges of the window. She groaned into her pillow. Her whole damn body ached.

She raised her head again and glared at the bottle of water and pair of Advil on the nightstand. So far. She reached over and fumbled with the cap. In the end she wound up using her strength to just rip off the top of the plastic bottle.

Finally she took in her surroundings. Familiar pale walls. That cheap carpet on the floor. The outdated curtains on the window. She was in one of New Wave's `emergency houses'. One the family had bought with Protectorate aid after Fleur's murder. It was off the books, the real owners hidden under a metric ton of false paper trails and bureaucratic nonsense.

The alarm clock went off. BEEP BEEP BEEP

The alarm clock on the other side of the bed. Victoria groaned loudly. Her headache hadn't even started to fade yet. She floated a few inches off the bed before another-BEEP BEEP BEEP-rang through her throbbing head and broke her concentration. She dropped back to the mattress with an `oomph'.

"Turn it off."

The alarm kept going. BEEP BEEP BEEP. She grasped a pillow weakly and covered her head with it.

"Please don't make me fly over there..."

BEEP BE-there was a click.

"Sorry. Didn't realize that would go off."

Victoria lifted the pillow off her head. She didn't need a mirror to know that her hair was matted with knots, her voice was raspy, her throat was sore, and her eyes were probably bloodshot with bags under them.

And the person standing next to the alarm clock still looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Still traced her naked figure with his gaze and smiled warmly at her.

Victoria blushed. She smoothed the covers over her, knowing that he was watching how the sheets shifted over her body.

The blonde offered him a teasing smile. "Next time, I dom."

A clawed finger tapped the alarm clock's display and changed its settings. Soft, rumbling laughter answered her. "Of course. Sorry if I was too rough. I had a bad day, too."

"No worries." Victoria rolled over onto back. Her hair fell in clumpy tangles as she moved. From her new position she could see Manticore in all his lithe, muscular, monstrous glory. "I loved it."

Manticore's long tail swayed back and forth at the pronouncement.

"Where were you?" Victoria asked as she took another sip from the water bottle.

"I made a few texts. Your mother thinks you patrolled and hung out with me for a while before deciding to spend the night here. You told her that last night and sent her a message just now."

"Mm. Thanks." Her mother. Yes. She probably wouldn't look kindly on going out late, having rough sex, and then spending the night curled up to her nine foot, secret vigilante boyfriend in the family's secret safe house.

Her mother was incredibly closeminded that way.

Victoria tried to lift herself upwards into a sitting position. Halfway through the motion her arms went slack and she dropped back onto the mattress. Manticore looked over at her quickly.

"Ok. Maybe a little too rough. It was still fucking amazing, Taylor. Really."

Manticore -Taylor— shrugged uneasily. "Yeah... like I said, I also had a bad day. I guess I took it out on you."

Victoria rolled her eyes. They had both enjoyed it, so she didn't know what he was feeling upset about. "Taylor, look at me. I loved it. Now get in here."

Taylor chuckled softly and got up onto the bed as well. The frame creaked under the increase in weight. He used his knees to move across the mattress before lying down, carefully keeping his clawed toes pointed away. Any shredded pillows or sheets would not be easy to explain.

"Still... next time we both have a bad day, let me know before we meet up. I'll bring another girl along. She can take some of the heat." Victoria smiled wickedly at the thought.

"You are a deviant pervert." This exchange was a familiar one.

"I'm serious. I want a threesome." The blonde repeated. She levitated an inch above the mattress and floated over to him. She landed softly next to him and sighed as he wrapped a warm arm around her.

"You've said that before."

"I was serious then, too."

"Mmm." Taylor's broad, black chest rumbled as he made himself comfortable on the center of the bed. "Go back to sleep."

Victoria rolled onto her side and closed her eyes again. She fluffed a stray pillow and burrowed her face into

Taylor's side, using his larger frame to block the light from the window. She savored his warmth and his scent, the smell of sex that still clung to them both. She sighed and mumbled as she let her sore body relax.

"...being serious..."


* * *

By the time they both got up again, the sun was much higher in the sky. Neither felt like doing anything, still sated and sore from a night of rough, power-fueled fucking. They were simply lounging on the bed. One figure massive, one small. One dark, one bright. One calm and collected, one fierce and passionate.

She liked that dichotomy. Liked the way the complemented each other.

Neither minded when the other said they wanted to laze about all day. Neither pushed the other into living up to some standard when they were alone.

So when Taylor said they should spend the day watching old movies, she didn't refuse. He'd mentioned the previous day only once. He brought up her argument with Gallant and Vista and said she could tell him when she wanted to. She had quietly offered the same for whatever had worked him up so much.

Neither really felt talking about their Bad Day, so they lounged and talked about everything else and nothing at all.

Inevitably, the topic came back to—

"I said I was being serious."

"You always do." Taylor poked fun at her. He also actually poked her. Stupid tail.

But she always did, Victoria admitted silently.

The idea of a threesome thrilled her. Thrilled her in a way that very little else could. Forcing Taylor to submit through her aura and strength was a heady feeling and a brilliant high: a reminder that yes, she was powerful and glorious. Him turning her into a powerless slut was amazing, a total lack of control and just not caring.

Even if it was all just `playing'.

But the both of them? Having power over a shared playmate? As they pushed and pulled her how they pleased? As she made them worship her body and Taylor turned them into mewling wreck, desperate for more?

She'd masturbated a dozen times thinking about it. Sometimes while Taylor watched.

In her mind, it was simple. They'd make an anonymous post on a website, only stating their intentions and not their identities. Someone would reply and they'd confirm that no one was being pranked or forced. They'd meet in secret. Then she and Taylor would show up `in costume'. The person would be shocked, surprised, but ultimately agree. Who would be able to resist the chance to have sex with the two of them? And then? Then they would fuck.

And no matter who that person told, no matter how vividly they could describe it...

No one would ever believe them.

That was what she envisioned.

In reality... not so easy.

They talked about it a lot. Joked about it a lot.

"Taylor, I want a threesome." She would say.

"That's because you're a deviant pervert." He would answer. It was the same old routine by this point.

This wasn't the first time she'd brought it up and it wouldn't be the last. Not if she had anything to say about it.

She mulled over the last night of sex.

How similar it was to their first time. Because their first time had been... rough.

The first time she'd ever seen Manticore had been when she was out looking for Nazis. Instead she'd seen a large, black, vaguely human creature traveling along rooftops and back alleys by some old warehouses. She'd thought he was a villain. She hadn't thought twice about landing a flying punch into the side of his face. He'd fought back. Of course he fought back. She hadn't believed him when he said he wasn't a villain.

She'd flown away with a dusty outfit and hurt pride and he'd dove into the ocean to get away.

They'd met again two weeks later, both responding to a jewelry store robbery. The robbers were nothing more than a bunch of thugs led by a cape from out of town. It was short and easy work, but also fulfilling.

And she'd learned yes, the nine foot tall beast of black nightmares actually did want to be a hero.

The pair had spoken for a while to the police and Manticore properly introduced himself to Velocity when he'd shown up.

For nearly a month they partnered up when they situation called for it. Chased the Undersiders after they botched some heist. They'd fought the Empire 88 when the Wards had been held back by the PRT.

Then she had taken his side in an argument with the Wards. And things changed.

Gallant wanted an apology and admittance that they'd made a mistake. Glory Girl felt she and Manticore were in the right. Things between Victoria and Dean became... strained.

She'd started searching out Taylor. More time, more talks, more little things that they kept doing together.

A while later, they had each had a long day. A tiring day. A Bad Day. Between a lecture from her mother, her dad... being her dad, Amy's disapproving stare after she broke a guy's legs on accident (and it really had been an accident, she hadn't thought the car would do that), and another fight with Dean, she hadn't been very calm. She'd been angry, depressed and desperate for a way to let loose some frustration. She'd have settled for just talking to another hero who wouldn't judge her.

She'd met up with Taylor on chance. They patrolled for a while, talking about random things when she had made a snarky comment. He had taken offense and snapped back. It had quickly turned into an escalating argument over something extremely stupid. Then she flared her aura and he exhaled a neon pink gas.

Then they'd fucked.

They had worked through the cause in the aftermath. Taylor had still been testing the limits and abilities of the chemicals he could expel. He'd hit her with a lungful of something that affected her libido, emotions, and her powers. The chemicals had not only boosted the strength of her force field but also altered her aura. That aura, amped to its maximum to intimidate him, instead pushed him into a lust driven frenzy.

Between her altered aura and Taylor's chemical emissions, it had turned into a vicious, rapidly escalating cycle of lust, desire, awe, and an absolute lack of inhibitions.

Taylor had once tried to describe it. He'd come up with the term `mutually responsible pseudo-para-rape'. It was as good a term as any, really.

Both had unintentionally used their powers to drive the other into a haze of passion, lust, and fury. It had been loud, rough, brutal, and ohsofuckingsatisfying. She'd ridden him so hard the ground beneath his pelvis had shattered. He plowed her into a steel wall so fiercely it had dented. Deeply.

Hours later they'd woken. That had been followed by an argument about what had happened, whose fault it was, what if she got pregnant, how was she going to explain her ruined outfit, and were they supposed to report the damages?

They'd slunk away from the building and found a working water hose to clean themselves. Victoria had learned that Taylor had near-perfect control over everything he secreted, which meant no pregnancy, salvaged what was left of her costume and come up with a story about how it was damage and parted ways intending to never speak of that night.

The next time she'd had a Bad Day she sought Taylor out on purpose. And they'd had sex on purpose.

She and Dean had been... taking another break.

That kind of set the tone of the relationship for a while. They'd mellowed in the months since. Beneath the super-tough skin and talons that could rip through tinkertech alloy, Taylor was quiet. Introspective. He was kind, but also hesitant to put himself in a position where he was the center of attention.

They would `hang out' on and off. Never making it public and never when she and Dean were officially dating, but always something would happen. She and Dean would `take a break' and she would `hang out' with Taylor. But each time her split with Dean would last a little longer and... well.

It had all culminated in a few days of consideration and realization. She and Taylor had spent one night talking, and Taylor had finally opened up about some of his life. She'd flown away with a different perspective of him.

That weekend, though she'd still been dating Dean... she'd sought out Taylor. The thought of seeing the monstrous cape behind everyone's back -behind Dean's back— had made her excited. Made her wet. It was wrong and deceitful and made her feel wanted and sexy and strong. Looking back, it had been the first step she'd made in exploring her kinks and searching for different... experiences.

The next time she and Dean broke up, it had stayed that way. That night she had asked Taylor to be her boyfriend. She had refused the next time Dean asked her out.

They kept it hidden. Her permanent breakup with Dean was still fueling Arcadia's rumor mill. As far as anyone knew, even her family, she was simply staying out of the dating game for a while.

Of course hiding that she was in a secret, torrid love affair with no one the wiser still gave her a rush of excitement and pleasure.

It was that same want for a rush that made her bring up the same much-discussed topic.

"Damn it, Taylor, threesome. You should want this the same way I do." She gestured at herself.

Taylor stared at her. Then he snorted, closed his eyes, and repeated something he said sometimes. Often. Most days. Ok he said it a lot.

"You are a sexually deviant pervert."

Victoria could hear the amusement in her boyfriend's tone and see it in his eyes. She could also see his interest, no matter how much he denied it, in his groin. When out and about, his penis retracted into his body, nearly impossible to notice. She, however, knew exactly where it hid and how to tell its moods.

"Taylor~." She whined.

"Assuming we do... who do you want? And how would we even do it?" Taylor asked hesitantly. He would humor her whenever she brought it up, even if they would never act on it.

Victoria massaged her jaw and throat, shivering as her body gave way under her fingers in a way it really wasn't supposed to. One of the perks of Taylor's chemicals. It gave the affected increased flexibility and elasticity, down to the very bone. It was the only way she could actually take him in any one of her holes.

The monstrous cape didn't just make `lust potions'. Though those were fun. Taylor had a whole plethora of chemical mixtures, from knockout gas to sensory deprivation. Their tests with the sensory enhancement mix had been mind-blowing. Almost mind-breaking.

At Taylor's question Victoria's face fell.

"...I don't know. I don't even know how we could convince someone into a one night stand, even someone we know and trust." She mulled it over. Vista was too young, Battery was married, and all of the girls from New Wave were off the list for obvious reasons. If she made the offer to Crystal, her cousin was as straight-laced as they came. She'd never go for it.

Even if the idea of Crystal being bent over a table and losing that prim and proper attitude with a cock up her ass, her hair mussed and tongue lolling out was fucking hot. (It was not a deviant thought, they were cousins, not sisters and Victoria was fully capable of appreciating the female form regardless of who it belonged to.)

Which left Miss Militia and... Shadow Stalker.

"Miss Militia." Victoria decided.

A single golden eye opened and lazily looked at her.

"What's more American than a threesome?" Victoria joked.

"Apple pie." Taylor chimed.

Victoria blinked as she drank from a bottle of water. "Was that a sex joke? Like that movie?"

His lips curled, revealing more sharp teeth.

"Still, we could convince her. I'm sure of it." Victoria giggled and put on a deep, professional sounding voice. "Miss Militia, it is your patriotic duty to fuck these fine young citizens."

Taylor's heavy chest rumbled with suppressed laughter. "Oh yes. Yes, I'm sure that would work. We'll show up in her office at the rig, wearing nothing but an American flag and a speech about free love. She won't be able to resist."

Victoria laughed as she reached down and under the bed to pull out a package of pop tarts. The pose gave Taylor an excellent view of her smooth behind. "Well, the only other Protectorate cape is Shadow Stalker and I don't think even you could fuck the bitch out of her."

Behind her, Taylor grumbled from deep in his chest. "Shadow Stalker... maybe. Maybe."

Victoria glanced at Taylor's face. Despite the growl, his face was oddly blank. His eyes were distant and unfocused.

She tried to probe. "Did something happen between you two? Do you know each other... outside the mask?"

That thought put a queasy feeling in her gut. If someone like Shadow Stalker knew who Taylor really was before she did...

"No. Well... I know her. Her scent gave her away. Let's just say I wouldn't be above mutually responsible pseudo-para-rape."

Victoria's brow furrowed in shock and confusion.

Using the lust mix to `facilitate' a romantic encounter was one of Taylor's biggest inhibitions. Doing it to each other had first been an accident and then a kink they both enjoyed. Doing it to someone else was past what Taylor had deemed acceptable, even with her sweet-talking about how everyone would end up enjoying it. For Taylor to even suggest it...

Oh. Oh.

Victoria gave him a look even as her mind raced. What the hell had Shadow Stalker done? "She hurt you."

Taylor didn't look at her. "...maybe it's better if we avoid her."

That was as much confirmation as she needed.

"She hurt you." Her mind zeroed in on that.

Taylor's head sagged. He still didn't make eye contact. "Yes. Do you remember... do you remember when I told you I don't like how I am outside of this." He gestured at his dark skinned monster form. "I don't like my normal life. She is... one of the reasons why."

"You could snap her like a twig." Shadow Stalker and whoever else had done something that hurt Taylor so deeply that even after months, he wouldn't transform into his human self for her. Because he thought that part of him was worthless. That Victoria would leave. A sweltering hatred burned in her chest. Shadow Stalker was sharp-tongued and short-tempered. Everyone knew that. But if she had—

"I could. That's why I don't go near her in this form. Because I might."

That brought Victoria's growing anger to a screeching halt.

She lowered her head. Damn it. Damn Taylor and his weird morals about hurting the right people the right amount. What had he said after that fight with the Empire 88? The gang had brought in a new cape to the fight, Taylor quickly broke down what he could do with his powers, and proceeded to let the Wards deal with him while he focused on Hookwolf. `Don't waste energy on fights that don't matter. Don't win a battle that loses the war. Find the right target and hit them with everything. Make sure they never get back up again.'

She huffed, blowing air into a few strands of stray blonde. "Ok. Ok. Just... whenever you want tell me, whenever you want to show me... I'll be here, you know? Love you." She leaned forward, her breasts pressing up against Taylor's broad chest and planted a kiss on the tip of his snout.

Taylor stared back and made an odd whining noise at the back of his throat. "L— err. I— you..."

Victoria smiled widely at the sight of a nine foot, dark black, monstrous murder-beast that couldn't bring himself to talk about his emotions. It was adorable. Also kind of sad. But mostly adorable.

He always got flustered or quiet when his `normal life' was brought up. She knew some things. He went to Winslow. He wasn't popular. His grades fluctuated high and low depending on who was bullying him. And no staff ever got involved.

`What a shit school.' She thought. A dozen times she'd thought about tracking him down at Winslow. But he'd made her promise not to before he told her even that little. So she would support him. And wait.

A soft rumble from her stomach shifted her attention. She purposefully went back to the box of pop tarts and started munching before handing one to Taylor.

In her mind, she made a mental note that if they ever got the chance, they were going to turn Shadow Stalker into a fuck-addled cum-slut so drenched in white the Empire would get confused.

Out loud she changed the subject. "We could always seduce a villain. Love and redemption and mind-whamming and all that. Sex them to the side of good. They wouldn't say no."

Seducing a villain was a major stretch, and highly unlikely besides. But it also made her feel good. It made her feel powerful.

Taylor gladly accepted the new topic. "They couldn't say no, that's what bothers me. But villains? Are you sure? Even if it was a one-time thing, just for fun... they would use it against us."

And that was Taylor. In some ways he was just as impulsive and headstrong as she was. In others he was much more levelheaded and collected. Vicious to enemies and forgiving to allies. Sometimes to unreasonable levels.

Victoria raised a finger, hesitated, then lowered her hand. She let herself fall backwards onto Taylor. Her head came to rest on his lower abdomen. She was parallel to him, her feet hanging off the side of the bed.

"Point. It's still just an idea. And we can always fall back to mutually responsible pseudo-para-rape." She shivered again at the idea of making a villainess lose to them on every level. It was... hot. Turning one of Brockton Bay's notorious villainesses and reducing them to a pleasure wracked mess as Taylor doused them in chemicals and she flooded their senses in her aura? "I feel naughty just thinking about it."

"You look naughty thinking about it." Taylor noted.

"Flatterer. Anyway. Villains. Villainesses. Who?" She rapped her knuckles onto Taylor's abdomen. Taps hard enough to rattle concrete and they barely bothered him. She really, really wondered just what his limits were. And just how far they could take those limits in... other directions. They'd experimented some. Between her force field and his durability, with their augmented strength, they had once demolished a decent chunk of an abandoned building in the floundering manufacturing district.

She still had a newspaper article pinned to her vanity: Battle Between Supervillains Levels Warehouse

If only they knew.

"No Merchants." Taylor prompted.

"Agreed." Victoria grimaced in disgust. Squealer might have huge tits and a name with interesting connotations, but there was no way in hell they were willing to risk getting... whatever she might have. Maybe if Amy flushed her system and cured her of the bajillion STDs she probably had. Maybe.

"There aren't any girls in the ABB. The Empire? Maybe we could say you're getting in touch with your blonde haired, blue eyed, dark side." Taylor chuckled.

"Ha. Ha. Rune, Purity, Fenja and Menja. The twins might be too much to handle." Victoria mentally crossed them off the list. Twins were great. Twins the size of buildings weren't.

Taylor hummed. "Rune or Purity then?"

"Maybe. Purity does have the MILF thing going for her. But a Nazi on a monster dick?" Victoria tapped her chin as her face scrunched. "There's a joke in there somewhere."

"You are a perverted deviant and I should leave you before you corrupt me." Taylor deadpanned. Again.

"Too late." The blonde teased.

"How exactly are we going to justify this again?"

Victoria knew that Taylor wasn't quite taking the conversation seriously. Usually they talked about a threesome in jest. Sometime they would talk dirty about it, vividly describing what the two of them would do to the other person and each other. Yet each time it just... fell apart. Neither was brave enough to actually try and convince the person.

But she really did want to. But the question loomed: who and how?

She had a not so serious answer for the second part, at least.

"Mutually responsible pseudo-para-rape." Victoria explained. Her voice took on a lecturing, playful `I've-done-nothing' tone. "You see officer, Manticore and I were doing some heavy flirting and ready to get down to business. You know, dosing each other with drugs and aura. Weird and kinky, sure, but that's our thing. Then this stupid villain walks by and, being a stupid villain, got caught up in it. Neither of us were exactly coherent, being doped with Love Potion 69 and all, and well... one thing led to another. But no one is pregnant, she had a great time, and we even arrested her and brought her in! Mind the white on the outfit."

For a long, silent moment, Taylor stared at the blonde lying next to him.

Victoria nodded decisively even as she struggled to keep a straight face. "My explanation is foolproof. Undeniable in its genius. Sex and justice for all."

"...your mother is a lawyer, right?" The flesh at the back of Taylor's maw -what passed for cheeks in this form— pulled upwards in a smile.

Victoria punched him in the gut before flopping back down and returning to her previous position. Her head was back in his lap with her legs sprawled outward.

Taylor laughed. His sharp teeth glinted in the sunlight. "Who knows. Maybe someone will just... agree. I'm not sure who else there is to consider."

It took all of four seconds for Victoria to remember another group of villains. "The Undersiders. The smug bitch. Tattletale."

Taylor blinked and tried to place the names. The Undersiders were barely known. He raised an eyebrow. "The blonde Thinker? Why?"

"They did a smash and grab a few days ago. Some pawn shop. I found them as they were clearing out and tried to chase them but she... she... ugh." Victoria let loose a sigh before she could work herself up. She turned her head to look a Taylor's face. "I am upbeat. I am playful. I am impulsive. I am not dumb."

"I know you're not." Taylor rested a heavy hand on Victoria's stomach. The blonde smiled and put a hand on top of his. Her other hand moved up and started tracing random lines on his muscular chest and abs.

The heroine sighed again. She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined the scene. Tattletale would be on her knees with both hands behind her back, chained in handcuffs. She'd still be in her skintight lavender costume. It would be caked -caked— in a layer of Manticore's thick jizz. It would cling to her whole body. Fresh seed trailing from her mouth and dripping down from the curve of her breasts to a stomach bloated from load after massive, steaming load sent straight down her abused throat. Her mask would still be on even with all the spit and sweat and cum that was slathered on her face. No mocking stare and no smug smile.

The villainesses' head would be held in Manticore's vicelike grip: a single massive, taloned hand palming her whole scalp. With each movement of his arm he'd force that fuck-starved, cum stained face back and forth over his length. Glory Girl would be behind her with one hand on Tattletale's neck, savoring the motion of a cock far too big for any human to handle being crammed into her tight throat. With each stroke in, her neck would bulge. Glory Girl's other hand would be down low, fingering the powerless villain in her wet, needy cunt. Tattletale would desperately search for release and be denied every single time.

She would cum when Glory Girl allowed it and not a second before. Between Glory Girl teasing her desperate cunt and Manticore's cock punching down her throat, Tattletale would know where she belonged.

Victoria left the daydream and looked at her lover. Her firm blue eyes met Taylor's curious gold.

"I want you to fuck her face so hard she can't do that stupid smile ever again." She announced.

Her boyfriend practically purred at that declaration. He really did like it when she talked dirty.

"But the Undersiders don't have territory and no one's been able to track them down. Even if we wanted screw the smug out of her... we don't know where she is." Victoria complained.

Taylor's tail thumped the bed. For all their talk about having a threesome or dosing some villain into a night of debauchery, it just never seemed to go anywhere.

"That's just about every female cape we know of that's in the city. If we don't pick any of them... I don't know. Why don't I just... I don't know... fuck your sister in front of you and call it a day?" Taylor waved a hand in resignation.

Victoria rolled her eyes at the vulgar suggestion. She decided to let the matter drop for now.

She let her head drop back down in the crook between his abdomen and his propped up leg.

Then a scene wormed its way into her mind.

Maybe she was still affected by Taylor's chemicals. Maybe her hormones and senses were still kicked into overdrive. Maybe she was feeling happy and sated and sexy. Maybe it was all of that: the way her pussy was still pleasantly sore, her mind still hazy and content from a night of rough sex, but her emotions still wanting to do something more. Something new and rebellious. Maybe she wanted something more scandalous and forbidden than seeing a vigilante behind everyone's backs.

Or maybe it was as Taylor said: she really was just that god damned deviant.

She inhaled slowly, savoring the smell of sex that still clung to them and the way Taylor's claws scraped her stomach. She closed her eyes and let the scene take shape.

An image of Taylor lounging lazily on the bed, his upper body supported by pillows. An image of her sister, of sweet little Amy, being held up by Taylor with casual ease. His large clawed hands would be clenched around Amy's midsection just tight enough as he fucked her. Slowly. Amy's legs limp and twitching as she was helplessly lowered and raised and lowered onto his thick, monstrous cock. Taylor would tell her how fucking tight she was, how wet and how small and how easy it was to move her however he wanted.

The mousy girl would switch between half-heartedly trying to pry Taylor's grip off her waist or giving in and groping herself as the slow strokes drove her to ecstasy again and again and again. Or she'd be raising her hands up to cover herself in embarrassment or shame, futilely trying to hide from Victoria.

Because Victoria would be there. She'd be kneeling between Taylor's legs, licking and sucking and kissing her sister's legs and her lover's length each time it slid out of Amy's overstretched pussy. Amy's small hands would tangle in her blonde hair, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer. She would be there, her own hot tongue pushing on Amy's clit as her freckled face scrunched up and her eyes glazed over. Then Victoria would move up, kissing and nipping all along Amy's body. She'd trace her sister's distending abdomen, molding itself around Taylor's cock as it sawed upwards. She would suck on Amy's sweaty neck as her sister begged for more. More touching, more kissing, more cock. Amy's smaller frame would shudder and spasm as Victoria reached around and spread her sister's small, firm ass, offering Taylor—

Glory Girl exhaled roughly as her eyes slid open. She slowly moved her gaze to look up at Taylor's face. She could tell he was aroused... but also patient. Waiting. His golden eyes stared down her.

All of her. At her pert breasts and toned stomach and long legs. At her... fuck.

Victoria bit lip as she realized what she'd done outside of her little fantasy. She'd moved a hand between her thighs. Two claws were either side of her cunt, spreading her open so she could focus on fingering herself. Her fingers were already slick with her own juices. Her other hand had reached back and had begun to pleasure Taylor as well. Without looking she knew she was stroking his warm dick, her slim fingers not reaching around its girth.

Had she really just imagined this thing inside Amy? Daydreamed about holding her sister's face into her pussy as her boyfriend's cock, coated with both of their cum, withdrew from a gaping cunny? Did she just touch herself at the thought of her own sister being used like some fuck toy? Pleasuring her and him and loving every second of it?

...

...

...yep.

"I'm a deviant pervert."

Incomplete Bodysuit

(Автор: GiftOfLove)

For what felt like the hundredth time Taylor found herself running through all the reasons she shouldn't be doing this even as she pulled her shirt over her head and wiggled her way out of her jeans. Her costume wasn't ready. Her mask wasn't done. She didn't have a name! Did she mention that her costume wasn't finished?

It was literally still in pieces. She hadn't even had a chance to connect the sleeves and leggings to the main body. In truth what she had was closer to a leotard, with a set of mismatched stockings and gloves.

She put it on anyway, stepping into the main body of her costume and pulling it up. Threading her arms through the top, Taylor reached behind her and tugged the zipper up her back. It covered everything but her narrow hips, her womahood hidden beneath a thin strip of cloth that stretched between her legs. It was a tight fit. Tighter than she was expecting. Like a second skin.

Were bodysuits supposed to be this tight, or had she made a mistake with her measurements?

Putting it out of her mind for now, Taylor bent down to slip on her leggings. They sat at two different lengths, one more complete than the other. The one that covered her right leg rose up to mid thigh and was the one that she had put the most work into. The one for her left leg stopped a few inches over her knee. The 'gloves' were much the same.

As dressed as she was going to get, she moved to look at herself in a dusty full body mirror surrounded by old cardboard boxes. It had been her mother's once, moved down into the basement with the rest of her things after her death.

Taylor took one look at herself in the mirror and flushed to the tips of her ears.

The young woman looking back at her looked nothing like Taylor Hebert. If you could look past the nonexistent chest and lack of curves the girl in the mirror was almost . . . sexy.

Twisted

(Автор: Angush)

Preface: A thing. Nothing sexy yet. Wrote it about a month ago, and I'm a bit unsure about the little jump-ahead snippet thing at the start. Takes place toward the end of their first year at Winslow, in case you couldn't tell. (2,672 words)


* * *

Someone knocked on the stall door. I looked up from my sandwich and swallowed my mouthful. "Occupied," I said.

A girl's voice — duh, it's the girls bathroom — replied. "Taylor? Is that you?"

I went still, though doing so didn't really help with anything. I recognised the voice. It wasn't one I was happy to hear. "Uh... no?"

"It's Madison," my bully said. "Madison Clements." A pause. "Are you eating?"

I glanced down at my half-eaten sandwich. Suppressing a sigh, I replaced it in its plastic wrap, putting it back into my lunchbox and closing the lid. "You can't at least let me have lunch in peace?" I muttered.

I regretted it immediately, expecting retribution and vitriol. But Madison just laughed. "I'm not here to bother you," Madison said. "But I think we should talk." A hand popped under the stall door, holding a folded-up piece of paper between the fingers. I belatedly realised I was only hearing Madison out there. No Emma. No Sophia. Just her.

The fingers wiggled. I bent and took the paper, and her hand withdrew. "Meet me there after school," she said. "I have a proposal I think you'll be interested in."

Then she left, her shoes scuffing the tiles as she went.

I frowned. That was unusual. I'd expected to have soda dumped on me, or something worse. But not... whatever that was.

I glanced at the paper in my hand. Curiosity got the better of me; I unfolded it and read the words she'd written.

My first thought was `trap.' She was luring me somewhere private so she and the others could mess with me, maybe tape me to a pole and leave me there overnight, or something else — their imaginations were better than mine.

But... that didn't make sense. Emma and Sophia could get me alone whenever they wanted — they had to have some sort of sixth sense for when there weren't any teachers around. They certainly didn't have to hand me a note and ask. And even if did, they'd have no guarantee I'd show up. I could just blow them off. It's not like they could force me.

I shook my head and stood. I could think about that later. Right now, I just wanted to leave. Madison might be genuine, or she might not be. Whichever it was, I wasn't going to stick around long enough to see if she led Emma and Sophia here.


* * *

The bell rang, signalling the end of the school day. I put my books into my bag slowly, watching Sophia pack her stuff up out of the corner of my eye. She stuffed her things into her bag without much regard, then strode out of the room with the usual irritated expression on her face.

I followed her, making sure to keep a distance between us — and as many people as I could. Sophia didn't seem to notice me. She left the school — not even stopping at her locker for the rest of her books — and caught the first bus to the city.

Away from where Madison wanted to meet.

That didn't really prove that Madison's meeting was safe — Sophia could just loop around. But it was the best I was going to get. So I hopped on a bus headed to the boardwalk and made my way to the address on Madison's note.

It was a little tea shop, tucked behind a book store. I pushed the door open hesitantly. A little bell chimed above me, and I looked around. It was empty except for Madison, who sat at a table in the far corner, her hands crossed over the tabletop. She saw me and smiled, waving me over. Reluctantly, I went.

I sat down opposite Madison, watching her carefully. She didn't say anything; she just kept smiling at me.

I heard a sound behind me and glanced over my shoulder, more out of paranoia than any real belief that Emma or Sophia had somehow snuck up on me. And as I expected, it was only the waitress. She walked up to our table and asked what we'd like. Madison ordered a cup of ginger tea and a chocolate-chip muffin. I asked for a glass of water.

"I knew you'd come," Madison said once the waitress had left. She was still smiling at me.

I looked around again. Still only us. I felt a little bit of confidence blossom within me.

I turned back to Madison and stared at her. "W-what do you want?" Dammit. I just had to stammer there.

"Lots of things," Madison said. "But right now, I just want to talk. Like I said before, I have a proposal for you."

I waited, but she didn't continue. Her smile was beginning to grate on my nerves. I gestured. "And that is?"

Madison brought her hands together on the tabletop, interlocking fingers. "You have a bullying problem. I can help you solve that."

I scowled at her. "You're part of the problem."

"True," Madison said. "But I'm not the instigator. That's Emma and Sophia. And I can help you deal with them."

I glanced over my shoulder again. Still empty. I shook my head. I don't know why I kept doing that; the bell above the door would alert me when someone entered. Somehow I didn't trust it. "How so?" I said.

"I've spent a lot of time with them this past year," Madison said. "And I've learned a lot. For instance, Emma isn't half as confident as she seems." Madison took a sugar packet from the little basket on the table, twisting it in her hands. "All we have to do is separate her from Sophia and apply the right leverage, and..." She tore the packet in the middle, letting the sugar run out and pile onto her menu. "She'll crumble, never to bother you again."

Part of my mind told me to get up and leave then and there, that I couldn't trust her. But... there was something about the way she spoke that made me think she was serious. Her tone, her choice of words. At school, she played up the cute factor, fluttering lashes and looking innocent and speaking in a high pitch with simple language. But she wasn't doing any of that here.

Still, taking her seriously and trusting her were two very different things. I didn't believe for a second this offer of hers was a charitable one. She wanted something, like part of my allowance or a promise to do all her assignments for the rest of the year. Or my soul.

I was about to speak when the waitress returned with our orders, taking the spilled sugar with her when she left. I sipped at my water while Madison stirred her tea. "Alright," I said. "Let's say I take you up on this offer of yours. What do you get out of it?"

"It's simple," Madison said, pausing to sip her tea. "I get to..." She faltered, and covered it with a demure cough into her napkin. "I... I get Emma's throne. See, when school started, it was a mostly equal playing field. The seat atop the proverbial human pyramid that is high school politics lay unclaimed, as it should. Then Emma and Sophia began their campaign against you, and you didn't do anything about it." I bristled, but she waved me down. "I'm not condemning you, Taylor. I'm just stating facts. Relax."

I grudgingly swallowed my objections. Madison sipped at her tea again. "As I was saying," she continued, "their campaign against you — and your subsequent lack of resistance — has made you into a social pariah, the target for everyone's scorn. And that has allowed them to develop a base of power. The weak-minded are drawn to such things. They've used you as a stepping stone, a tool to reach the height of the school's hierarchy — and then they've used you to stay there."

Another sip. "But I'm not like the others, Emma's sycophants. Subservience has never come easily to me. And knowing Emma and Sophia as I do now, it is clear to me that they are not at all suited to the position they have claimed. So I want to replace them. But to do that, first I need to knock them down. Destroy them. And if you help me, I can guarantee your safety once I am in control. Nobody will trouble you under my watch."

I nodded slowly. The more she'd talked, the more certain I'd become that she was serious. This wasn't an act. It couldn't be. And despite myself, I was interested, though it pissed me off the way she seemed to downplay her part of it. "So why come to me?" I said, watching her. "You said it yourself: I'm a social pariah. I don't have any power. I can't help you."

Madison smiled. "That's where you're wrong, Taylor," she said. "Tell me: how long have you known Emma?"

"Since we were kids." I frowned as memories resurfaced. I tried to ignore the hurt I still felt when I thought of her. "Our mothers were friends in college."

"Exactly," Madison said. "That is why you can help me. You have knowledge, and knowledge is the strongest sword. You know Emma better than anyone. What makes her tick. What secrets she keeps. And if we work together, we can use that knowledge to destroy her."

I shook my head. "No. I don't know her at all. I thought I did, but I don't, not anymore. She's changed too much."

"Maybe," Madison said. "But even if she acts differently now, her past is the same. I'm sure you know things about her that nobody else does. Secrets. Things she wouldn't want anyone else to know. Am I right?"

I thought about it, then nodded. "You are. But so what? Do you expect me to just share those with you? I... That'd make me no better than her."

Madison shrugged. "Fight fire with fire. You know how it is. You can't take down the big dogs without getting your hands dirty." She leaned forward and smiled, reaching out to pat my hand; I moved my hand away. "Uh... if it makes you feel any better, you wouldn't be betraying her. Just getting your due payback. And we'd only use what you tell me to beat her. We wouldn't have to tell her secrets to anyone else, if you're uncomfortable with that."

I didn't say anything. I was interested in her proposal, despite my better judgement, but I just... I couldn't think of anything to say.

I think Madison misinterpreted my silence. She withdrew her hand and looked at me for a moment, then dropped her head. "I'm sorry," she said in a quieter voice.

I went still. I felt the urge to look behind me again, but I didn't. Instead I locked my eyes on her. "For what?" I said. I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear it from her lips.

"For bullying you," Madison said, head still down. "For being party to their campaign all year. I'm sorry." She looked up. "I want to make things right."

I scoffed. "Sure you do. Don't act like you're here out of the kindness of your heart. You said it yourself: you get Emma's throne. Helping me is a byproduct."

"No," Madison said, meeting my eyes. "I mean it. I like you. I don't want to be part of that stuff anymore, and I don't want you to be their target dummy anymore. Taking Emma's place is secondary to stopping them, not the other way around. I... I know I said I wanted her throne, that that was why I'm doing this, but it's not. I said that because I didn't think you'd believe me if I told you the truth, that I want to make things right. And I'll prove it. I'll do anything you want me to. If you don't want me to take her place, I won't. I swear."

I stared at her. Madison stared back. She... she actually sounded serious. Sincere. I could hardly believe it. Part of me said she was manipulating me. Telling me what I wanted to hear so I'd be more open to her suggestions. I knew I shouldn't believe it.

But I did.

I made myself breathe normally and swallowed past the lump in my throat. "I-I want you to admit it," I said, watching her reactions. "Admit what you did to me, right here, right now. From the beginning. Until I tell you to stop."

Madison tightened her lips and nodded. "I... For the past six months, I have helped Emma Barnes and Sophia Hess bully you." Her voice was quiet, and it wavered, ever so slightly. I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't looking for it. "I stole your notebooks and got some of the other girls to cover them with insults. I poured juice on your underwear while you were in the shower so you'd have to walk around in them for the rest of the day. I threw your pencil case in the cafeteria trash can. I..."

So Madison went, listing off the things she'd done to me. The more she spoke, the more she seemed to shrink in on herself. I watched her for a sign of falsehood, a sign that she was manipulating me, and I didn't see one. She went on and on and on, bringing up things even I didn't remember. My knuckles were white where they gripped the edges of the table. Listening to this was just reminding me of everything they'd done — everything she'd done. Hearing her admit it all to me actually did make me feel better.

But I could only take it for so long.

"Stop," I gasped.

Madison cut off part-way through her admission to filling my bag with custard and fruit salad during lunch. She looked at me, but didn't say anything.

I was grateful for that. I doubted I'd be able to respond. My hands gripped the table hard enough that my fingers hurt. I bent over the table, letting my hair cover my face, and tried to get a hold of myself. I was not going to cry in front of Madison fucking Clements. I wasn't going to — I wasn't —

I felt arms slide around me from the side, and I realised I'd failed.


* * *

It took a few minutes before I managed to calm down. Madison returned to her seat. And she pretended that that hadn't happened. I was thankful for that too. I don't think I could've coped if she'd acknowledged it.

I sniffled and tried to pretend too. "Why?" I said.

"Um... why what?" Madison said.

"Emma. Why did she turn on me? We — we used to... we used to be so close."

Madison was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. She never said." Madison shifted. "We could find out. If we work together."

"Right, your proposal." I sighed, dropping my head to the table. I felt exhausted. I could barely think right now. I believed her — as bizarre as those words felt — but... "Can I think about it?"

"Of course," Madison said. "Tomorrow, at lunchtime. I'll be on the roof." I heard footsteps, and looked up. The waitress approached. Madison handed her a ten dollar note, then stood up. She looked at me and smiled. "I'll see you then?"

"...Yeah," I said. "Tomorrow."

"Great!" Madison chirped. I watched as she hopped around the table and made her way to the door. "See you tomorrow, Taylor!" she called from the door.

Then she left.

I dropped my head back to the table.

I needed some time to process.


* * *

I stepped off the bus the next day with worry and excitement warring in my mind.

I'd thought about Madison and her offer last night — it had been all I could think about, really. And I'd decided to go. To hear her out. I mean, what idiot wouldn't? She was giving me an opportunity to remove Sophia and Emma from my life. Working with Madison to accomplish that was small potatoes. Why would I not go?

I entered the school. One part of me wanted to go because of the potential gains, despite the potential risks. Another part wanted to go because of the risks — that was the insane, thrill-seeking part I always strived to ignore. And the unsettlingly large sentimental part of me said I should feel sad about showing Emma the proverbial door, that best friend-ship meant something, even if she'd forgotten.

The conscious part of me told that last one to shut up: it had no idea what it was talking about. Emma was a blight. A stupidly beautiful and stupidly painful zit on the face of my stupidly stupid life. Nothing more, nothing less. And now I had a chance to get rid of her. To wipe that smug look off her face when she sees Madison and I standing on the sidelines, waving her goodbye.

Yeah. I'd be stupid not to take this chance. I wanted to take it. Shit, I was going to take it, risks or no.

So why did I feel so apprehensive?

I started when I realised I was sitting in my first period class, with no recollection of how I had got there. I even had a pen in my hand and a notebook open on my desk, though my fingers seemed more interested in tracing the scratches in the wood than taking notes on whatever Mr. Grant was talking about.

I glanced at the clock. Somehow, there was only ten minutes left in class. I let my hand return to its business. I wasn't going to get anything useful out of this anyway.

I suppose... I mean, if I had to make a guess as to why I was so uncertain about this, maybe I was worried about a betrayal. From Madison. That when I went to the roof, Emma and Sophia and their other cronies would jump out from behind the door with party hats and those wheezy thingies and yell "Surprise!" and then beat the hope out of me.

That scenario didn't make sense, no. But the worry itself made no sense. It would be the most elaborate, ridiculous, overcomplicated, ridiculous plan ever conceived. Granted, I wasn't very familiar with Sophia, but I knew exactly what grades Emma had gotten in middle school. They were bad. She wasn't dumb by any means — and now I'm defending her to myself — but she wasn't nearly clever enough to come up with such a convoluted scheme. Nor did she have a reason to. She could get me alone pretty much any... time...

Hold up. Deja vu. I'd had these exact thoughts yesterday.

That wasn't a good sign.

"Taylor?"

I looked up. Mr. Grant stood in front of my desk, fixing up his glasses. I closed my notebook as subtly as I could — no need to let him see exactly how little attention I'd paid.

"The bell's rung, Taylor," Mr. Grant said. "I believe you have a class to get to?"

I looked around. The room was empty.

I blushed. "Uh, right," I said, hurriedly shoving my stuff into my bag — a raggedy old blue thing I'd picked up at the dollar store after my tormentors had ruined my proper bag. I stood up. "Um... see you tomorrow, I guess."

I made my way to the door. "Perhaps," Mr. Grant said from behind me, "you ought to pay a bit more attention in your next class."

I blushed again. I didn't need to turn around to see the look on his face. "Sorry," I said, then left.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Second period wasn't much better, but I managed to focus on the class at least partially. When the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and headed for the roof.

My worry and anticipation hadn't dulled in any way. I was still torn between panicking about an ambush and sprinting up in excitement. But I forced myself to walk at a sedate, almost leisurely pace. I pretended it was to avoid drawing attention, but really I wanted to prove to myself that I could control my emotions, because fuck me I was a mess today.

The door to the roof wouldn't open. I glanced down the stairwell and, seeing no-one there, knocked on the door. I wasn't sure if Madison would be out there already and responsible for it being locked or if I'd arrived before her, but it didn't hurt to try.

A moment later, the door opened. Madison ushered me outside, locking the door again behind me. It was just one of those twisty knobs. About what I'd come to expect from Winslow security. It looked like a fresh installation.

"Hey, Taylor," Madison said with a smile as she sat cross-legged in the shadows. She already had a lunch box laid out before her. "It's great to see you!"

"Yeah, whatever," I said, walking past her and looking around the corner. The rooftop was empty except for us — unless someone had somehow climbed on top of the stairwell housing. But that was ridiculous.

"There's no-one else here," Madison said. "Just us."

"I know." I hadn't really expected to find anyone else, but checking was just good sense. I looked back at Madison, who was still seated on the rooftop. I sat beside her, but I didn't take my backpack off. "I thought about it," I said, meeting her eyes. "Your proposal."

Madison nodded seriously. It was... cute. Seriousness didn't really fit her general look. "And?"

"I'm interested," I said, affecting a reserved tone. It was pointless — we both knew I wouldn't have come here if I wasn't interested — but it made me feel better about this whole thing. Like I was in control, even if I really wasn't. "But I'm not going to agree to it fully, not yet. First I need to know what your plan actually is. I'm not going to work with you if your attack strategy is based solely around blackmailing Emma with stories from when we were kids. I'd rather deal with Sophia, but I've got nothing on her."

"Right, that's fair," Madison said. "But, um... are you going to eat? It is lunch time."

I glanced down at her lunch box. I was a little surprised she wasn't eating something from the cafeteria. But her lunch all looked meticulously made, her sandwich wrapped delicately in plastic with little triangular edges — nothing like my own scrumpled messes.

"I'll eat later," I said, despite my stomach's objections. There was something about eating in front of her that didn't sit right with me. Like it was somehow a sign of weakness that she'd latch onto and decide that maybe I wasn't suited for her little coup de tat after all. Which was still a niggling thought, even though I believed she was at least a little regretful about bullying me. "Give me an answer first."

"Um, okay," Madison said. "Well... it's probably not going to be a short process, unless we get lucky. But the first step is telling the principal about the bullying. At least Sophia's involvement, and mine. Maybe not Emma's."

I shook my head. "That won't do anything. I've gone to the principal twice already. She's not going to do anything. She doesn't give a shit."

"You went by yourself?"

"Uh... yeah. In case you haven't noticed, I don't exactly have any friends to stick up for me."

Madison blushed. "Sorry. Um, what'd she say, exactly? The principal?"

"I don't know. Some bullshit about needing proof. I was a little angry."

"Then there's no problem! The issue you had is that there wasn't anyone there with you to corroborate your story, while Emma and Sophia had people to corroborate theirs. But we're going to talk to the principal together, and I'm the best witness you could hope for."

I opened my mouth to reply, but paused when I realised what she'd said. "We're going in together?"

"Of course!" Madison said. "I told you, we need each other for this to work. We'll have to fib a little, exaggerate some of the things Sophia's done, make her sound like a real villain — "

"She is!" I said. Madison glanced at me, surprise plain on her face. My voice may have been a little heated. "You're downplaying this again. But I've been on the receiving end, so you can trust me when I say she is a real villain."

Madison ducked her head. "Right, sorry. I didn't — I didn't mean to, uh... you know." She took a deep breath.

I did too. "It's fine. You were saying?"

"Uh, well..." She shifted. "That's pretty much it. We go in and tell the principal about everything Sophia's done, maybe threaten to go to the police if she doesn't do anything about it herself. And we tell her about my involvement, and — "

"Wait," I said, holding out a hand. "You want to tell her about your part? How is that going to help?"

"It'll make your claims seem more valid if one of your, uh... if one of your bullies confesses and backs up your story."

"Won't that just result in you getting punished too?"

"Um, maybe," Madison said. "I have an idea of how to avoid that, but... um..." She looked at me with upturned eyes, hands wringing. "Do you... do you not want me to get punished?"

I stilled, unsure of what to say. I hadn't thought about it, strangely. Well, that's not strictly true — I'd imagined the three of them getting expelled or spanked in front of class or something similarly humiliating more times than I could count. But I hadn't thought about anything like that happening to Madison; at least, not since our meeting yesterday.

Did I want her to get punished?

I thought about it. The answer rose to the surface. I didn't like it much.

"I don't know," I lied.

Madison shifted some more. "What does that mean?"

"It means I don't know!" Madison flinched, and I softened my tone. I shouldn't get angry with her; she might change her mind about helping me. But not wanting her to get punished just... it just didn't feel right. It felt like I was somehow betraying myself. Ugh. "Okay," I said, trying to think about something else. It was a little difficult. "So we deal with Sophia by going to the principal and giving her evidence. That makes sense, I suppose. But what about Emma? And all the others, like Julia and Alison?"

"I told you yesterday," Madison said. "The hanger-ons don't have any, uh... investment in bullying you. When Emma and Sophia leave you alone, they'll find something else to do. And once Sophia's gone, Emma will be easy to deal with."

"Right, the whole... blackmail thing." I sighed. "You know, I'm really not comfortable with that."

"You're looking at it the wrong way. Remember what I said? It's not blackmail. It's just payback. Getting your dues."

I shook my head. "I mean, I'm not really comfortable telling those things to you, specifically. I still don't trust you. And lots of those things involve me."

"I won't use that stuff for anything but getting back at Emma," Madison said. "I promise. But if you're worried, you could just tell me things that don't involve you."

"I know, I know, I just... I can't help but feel like you'd find some way to turn it all back on me. Like, I dunno, make everyone think I just give away people's secrets all the time, so then no-one would want to be friends with me because I'm such a blabbermouth."

Madison stared at me, eyes wide. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"You would have a month ago."

She flinched again, glancing down at her hands.

"Shit," I said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to — "

Madison shook her head. "It's fine. I understand."

We fell silent. Madison finished off her sandwich and opened a little dish filled with assorted fruits. It struck me then how ridiculous it was that I was apologising to Madison Clements, that I was worrying about hurting her feelings. I almost felt like laughing. Or crying.

"Okay," Madison said. "What if I told you one of my secrets in exchange? With proof. So if I used what you told me against you, you could publish the proof and then everyone'd know."

"Like mutually assured destruction?"

Madison nodded.

I considered it. I couldn't think of a reason to refuse. "Okay," I said, leaning in a little instinctively. "What's your secret?"

"Ah, no," Madison said, shaking her head. "Not yet. I'll need a while to get the proof. I don't know when I'll get the chance. A few days, maybe a week, maybe longer. But it doesn't matter, since you wouldn't have to tell me anything about you and Emma until Sophia's dealt with. Sophia's dangerous, so she's stage one. Emma's not, so she's stage two."

It was my turn to nod. "Alright, that's good. In that case: I agree." I held a hand out. Madison clasped it with hers. "We'll work together to take them down."

Madison smiled. "I'm glad."

I released her hand and stood, thankful that the rumbling of my stomach was too quiet for her to hear. "Is that everything? I'd like to have lunch."

"Uh... you don't want to eat with me?"

"No," I said. Then, seeing her face fall, I added, "Not right now. Maybe later."

"Okay," Madison said. "Well, we should swap numbers before you go." She pulled a mobile out of her pocket and looked up at me. "What's yours?"

I recited it for her, and she typed it in. "It's our home phone. If I don't answer, my dad will. Just ask for me."

Madison nodded. "What's your mobile?"

"I don't have one."

She looked at me like I'd told her I was born on Mars. "What? How?"

I glared at her. "I just don't, okay?" I said. "What does it matter anyway? You have my number now." I slid my bag around to my side and withdrew a pen and a scrap of paper. "Hurry up and tell me yours."

Madison was still looking at me weird, but she nodded and told me her number anyway. "You should really get a mobile," she said as I was tucking my stuff away again. I folded up the scrap of paper bearing her number and put it in my pencil sharpener — that way it'd be safe from getting ruined if Emma decided to dump her soda in my bag. Again. "They're awesome. They can do pretty much anything nowadays. And if you had one we could talk whenever!"

I glanced at her. Madison was smiling, and she sounded sincere — which I was starting to realise was her usual state; being bubbly was just part of her nature. I sighed. Being obstinate when she seemed so genuine made me feel like a bitch. "We can't afford it," I admitted through clenched teeth. It felt like a defeat.

"Oh," Madison said.

I zipped up my bag and slid it around to my back again. "So, do you have anything else to say before I go?"

"Um... yeah, one thing. But you're not going to like it."

"No?" I raised an eyebrow at her. "What is it?"

Madison looked down at her hands. "This plan of ours is going to take time. I'm not sure how long. Could be two weeks, could be two months, but... until we manage to get Sophia out of the way, we can't let her or Emma start to suspect something's up."

I swallowed. "You mean..."

"You have to keep letting them bully you," Madison said with a nod. "Act like nothing's changed. And... I have to do that, too. I have to be mean to you, when they're around. Sorry." Madison looked up then, meeting my eyes. "But I know you can do it! Sophia says you're weak, but I don't think that's true. You're strong."

"Right... thanks, I guess." I rubbed my face for a minute, then I sighed and looked away. "Alright. I can deal with that. I agree it's necessary." Madison nodded. "When are we going to start?"

"Start?"

"Yeah," I said. "The plan. Are we gonna go see the principal after school, or during second break, or what?"

"Uh, sorry, can't go see her until tomorrow at the earliest. I need to get some stuff ready for that too."

"Oh." I turned to look out over the school yard. I didn't want her to see my face. "Tomorrow. Okay."

"Sorry."

I waved her off. "It's fine. Are we gonna meet here, or at Mrs. Blackwell's office?"

"Uh... we'll meet at her office. After school, once Sophia's gone. Can you follow her, make sure she leaves?"

"Me?" I said, turning back to face her. "Shouldn't you do that? You're the one that hangs out with her all the time."

"Right," Madison said, biting her lip. She still looked cute. How'd she manage that? I was pretty sure if I did that I'd just look like I was doing a poor man's impression of an ogre. "Of course. Don't worry then, I'll do it. No problem."

"Okay. Great." I walked to the door. "Well... see you later."

"See you!" Madison called after me.

I opened the door, then paused. Did I really want to leave it there? I had a hundred questions to ask her. Admittedly, they were mostly all just variations of the one main question, but that was a damn important thing to ask. I closed the door and turned to face Madison. "Hey, Madison?"

Madison looked up. "Yeah?"

"Earlier, you said Julia and Emma's other friends don't... you said they have no investment in bullying me." I paused. Madison nodded slowly. "What was your investment? Why did you do it?"

Madison didn't say anything for a long moment, instead choosing to fiddle with the plastic fork in her hands.

"Madison?" I took a step towards her.

"Emma's really pretty," Madison said, looking down at her hands. "I wanted her to like me."

I pulled up short, midway through a step. "Huh?" I said with a frown. "You... what?"

"I wanted her to like me really, really bad, but..." Madison looked up, meeting my eyes. Her expression was serious but cute, like I'd thought before. "That's different now. I'd rather be liked by you than her."

"Uh... y-you mean..." Something large and heavy appeared in my throat. I swallowed past it. "Seriously?"

Madison nodded without breaking eye contact. Her cheeks flushed red, just a little. "Yeah."

"O-oh. Um, okay... cool." I wavered a little and pulled my outstretched foot back to keep balance. "Well, uh..."

I turned and opened the door as calmly as I could. "See you tomorrow," I said, then stepped through the door, closing it behind me.

I stood on the other side of that door for a good five seconds, staring a hole in the ground, my thoughts whizzing every which way so madly that I could hardly form a coherent sentence except by accident. Then one of the last functional parts of my brain reminded me that Madison was still on the rooftop, and I was standing in front of the door. She could come out any second.

I half-ran down the stairs. My bag bounced against my back as I ran, and one thought rose above all others:

Madison fucking Clements has a thing for me?!

Jealousy

(автор: sahara)

Sooo, I made a thing. A VickyxTaylor thing. From Amy PoV. Yeah. Here it is. EDIT: Thanks to -perhonen— on Reddit for beta-ing for me.

Warning: This is a snarky, angry Amy. Not your typical fanon woobie. She's also probably snarkier than canon Amy; but hey, you win some you lose some. Also, Amy is not the most reliable of narrators.


* * *

It was another shitty day at Arcadia.

Sure, the campus was nice, and the teachers were nice, and the students were nice...

Look, it was shit.

I was too busy being taught things I'd never use to go actually do something. People were dying in hospitals and clinics across the city and all I could do was listen to the incessant, but oh so informative, droning of Dr. Miller. I don't know why they made me take a science class at this point. I had an honorary medical license and could probably go to any med-school I wanted.

I can't even tell if I care more about the people or the class. I'm a bitch.

Oh well, at least it was time for lunch. Maybe I'd stop thinking about my shitty situation for the next hour.

Lunch looks lovely today.

Yes, I would like a serving of those powdered eggs.

Yes, I would like some maple syrup with my pancakes.

Yes, I would like to know who invented breakfast day.

As I started heading towards our usual table I noticed someone new at our usual table. She was a tall brunette with curly hair; wide, thin and expressive lips; wire-frame glasses that made her look like a librarian; as well as a posture that was probably going to cause back pain some day.

Hey, I can't help but notice these things.

There were other things I noticed too. Like the fact that she was sandwiched between Vicky and Dean, and looked like she was about to have a panic attack. And how good Vicky looked today.

But only slightly more interesting to me was the fact that I had never seen her before. It was February. You just don't transfer into Arcadia in February.

I sat down across the table from Vicky and New Girl jerked a little when my tray hit the table (jumpy much?). Vicky gave me a brief "Hey Ames, this is Taylor." before going back to her conversation with New Girl— err Taylor. Maybe it was more of a conversation at her, but that wasn't too unusual for Vicky. She had a lot to say; it wasn't a bad thing.

Vicky was completely focused on Taylor right now, and I felt a pang of jealousy. I was hopeless, getting worked up over something stupid like this. I looked down at my food and did my best to give off an air of indifference, but I noticed Dean give me an odd look (empathic ass) before he suddenly changed the direction of the conversation.

"So Taylor, you said you read a lot, right?"

Oh, I see, he thinks I'm jealous of their conversation. Idiot.

"Umm, yeah. Not as much as I used to since... but yeah, I read."

Wow. I thought I had no social skills. Aaand there's another look from Dean. Does he want me to say something? Asshole. Fine, here goes nothing.

"What do you read?"

"Umm, mostly classics. My mom was an English teacher."

It didn't take a social genius to pick up on the "was" in that sentence.

She certainly has a talent at giving dead-end answers.

Dean looked at me expectantly.

Ohhh, is it my turn to change the subject?

"Sooo, are you new here?"

"Yeah."

I barely heard her there.

"How'd you get the transfer?"

She curled into herself while doing her best impression of a kicked puppy.

Shit. Way to go Amy.

Vicky jumped in for the save. God, I love her.

"Hey Tay, you wanna go shopping with me and Ames after school?"

"Umm, uhh, what?...I don't really have the money..."

Vicky smiled. I knew where this was going so I smiled with her.

"Dean'll pay. It's fine."

Hah, eat it Dean.

Dean looked at me again, a mildly hurt look on his face (hah, empathy's not always that great, is it?).

"I'm fine, I don't want to-"

"Tay, we're going shopping and you're coming with us. I mean, don't you want a new wardrobe to go with your new school?"

Vicky's smile was sickeningly sweet.

"I, umm...Okay, I guess..."

Nothing stands in the way of my sister.

=================================================?

Over the next couple of weeks both Taylor's outfits and her social skills gradually improved under the caring tutelage of my sister. (Images of my sister in a slutty teacher outfit making out with Taylor told me I really shouldn't have phrased it that way.) V-necks and tighter jeans slowly slipped their way into her wardrobe (sometimes literally when Vicky went over), and Vicky made her get ice cream and go to the mall with us.

It was a couple weeks later when Vicky first invited her over to our house. That wasn't good. Vicky only ever had a few people over, the Wards (especially Dean) and our cousins in particular. She preferred to take her socializing to the Boardwalk or to one of Dean's house parties. Taylor's response was predictable.

"I... Umm... Is it okay with your parents?"

"Of course it is Tay! Do you think they don't want me to have friends?"

Vicky pouted playfully.

"Oh, umm... Okay. Can I borrow your phone to call my dad?"

My sister frowned in response.

"You don't have one? Why didn't you tell me earlier? Dean totally would have bought one for you."

Taylor winced a little there. I couldn't tell if it was because she didn't want to spend his money or if it was because she felt bad about not saying anything.

"I didn't really want to impose..."

"Nonsense. We're gonna go get you a phone so you can call him yourself."

"Okay?"

"Great! Now, since we don't have Dean we're gonna have to be a little more careful in our spending..."

I did my best to tune them out when Vicky started debating the pros and cons of the phones she was offering to buy. I really didn't like how much of a focus Taylor was for Vicky right then. It felt like she was taking my place.

When we got home we watched rom coms and action movies (alternating at Vicky's whim) well into the morning. Waking up to the title screen of the first Indiana Jones was an interesting way to find out you'd been up way too late. I was the first one up, which really didn't help me when I noticed Taylor cuddled up with Vicky. I knew they hadn't been that close (physically) last night, so it was probably just a bit of them moving in their sleep. That didn't stop the feelings of jealousy I was getting though.

Over the next month, we started doing movie nights almost every Friday and Taylor ended up sleeping over more often than not. I would have enjoyed it if it didn't feel like Vicky was focusing on her more than me, but it could have just been my attraction to Vicky, so I tried not to hold it against either of them.

Oh, and there was one other thing. Vicky had basically told Taylor that she needed to get contacts (or else) and I (idiot that I am) offered to just fix her eyes. It all went quite smoothly, even when I noticed the extra brain structures in her head and filed them away under "DO NOT OPEN." I did freak out a little until I noticed that there weren't really any tall, thin brunettes with curly hair among the capes of Brockton Bay. There was no way she was a Master coming to steal my sister either; I didn't really like her that much and she would've done something about that.

Through all that I did my best to keep a poker face; the public thought I couldn't do brains, but that didn't mean they thought I couldn't see them. I don't think she noticed that I noticed, but I really didn't need to spend any more time doubting myself than I already did.

We were sitting at our table again on an ordinary Wednesday (a rarity in Brockton Bay) when Vicky popped the question.

" Hey Tay, Ames, Dean's having a party Saturday at his house. You wanna go?"

"Sure."

Maybe I'll get some time alone (or at least more alone) with Vicky, `cause I doubt Taylor's gonna say-

"I guess so."

Shit. It took some effort to keep my face neutral.

"You do know I'm sitting right here, right?"

Dean had a subtle smirk that made me want to punch him. He looked at me with a vaguely accusatory expression.

Damnit, I hate it when he does that!

"Sorry! I mean, is it okay with you?"

I said her social skills had improved, not that she was the greatest conversationalist at Arcadia. Everyone knew that that was my sister.

Vicky put her hand on Taylor's shoulder. I felt a stupid pang of jealousy.

It's just a hand on the shoulder.

"It's fine Taylor, he was joking."

"Oh... sorry."

Dean looked at me, sighed, and changed the topic.

=================================================?

Taylor came over to our house early on Saturday so Vicky could get her ready for the party. Vicky had picked out one of those off-the-shoulder tops in nice deep blue as well as some black skinny jeans. Even I had to admit it looked good on Taylor. It accentuated her skinniness in a way that made her look more like a model than a high school girl. She even had the slightly odd face too! (I am not bitter).

Vicky had picked out a tempting white dress that showed a fair amount of cleavage and had a slit on one side that went all the way up to a very tantalizing thigh. It basically only covered one of her perfect legs. Her make-up was perfect and her hair was draped over her shoulders in a way that said "I don't even have to try." It was really fucking hot.

I was just wearing a simple black dress/skirt thingy that went most of the way down my thighs and didn't really show anything up top (not that there was really anything worth showing). At least I wasn't Taylor. She was flat as a board and I knew she'd stay that way (for once the ability to see all of someone's genetics was useful).

Because the three of us were going together I didn't get to have Vicky carry me. Instead we had to ride in mom's SUV and Vicky just made small talk with Taylor the whole time. I told myself that Taylor was Vicky's pet project. It made me feel better.

We got there about half an hour late and the party was already in swing. Vicky said it was what you're supposed to do, so I went with it. Taylor looked even more unsure of herself than usual. As we walked in, I noticed that Dean had finally managed to get Shadow Stalker to show up to a party. She had a friend with her, some redhead, who was pretty obviously flirting with Dean.

When I turned to look at Vicky, she looked ticked (yay!); but Taylor looked terrified. Her eyes flitted from Shadow Stalker to the redhead to Dean and back again before finally coming over to Vicky and me.

"I... I'm gonna be out back" was all she got out before she practically bolted towards the door. I noticed she took the long way around. It looked like she really didn't want Dean to see her reaction (or maybe it had something to do with the redhead?).

After this, Vicky looked confused and angry at the same time. She looked between Dean and where Taylor had exited from, obviously trying to decide who to go after (literally or metaphorically, take your pick). I knew she wasn't gonna be happy with Dean for letting a girl flirt with him (even without his power it was obvious), but I also knew she wasn't going to let Taylor wander off like that. I just waited for her. With one last look at Dean, she huffed and started to follow the path Taylor took.

=================================================?

It was while before we found her. Dean's house wasn't exactly an estate, but it was very much the typical size for an obscenely rich family. We had at least an acre of space packed with people to search through and it wasn't exactly empty. We started looking closer to the house, but she wasn't next to the fire pit, on any of the furniture, or hiding in some nook. Then Vicky figured it out.

There was a small gazebo sitting way out in the farthest corner of the Stansfield property. Nestled in between some trees and at the top of a hill, it was a nice, private spot. When we got there Taylor was sitting on the ground on the other side of the nearest wooden column. Her back was to the party and she had her knees pulled up to her chest with her face buried in between them. She was sniffling quietly, and when Vicky and I came around in front of her it was pretty obvious she'd been crying.

We sat down on opposite sides of her and Vicky put an arm across her shoulders.

Taylor jumped a little at that.

"Hey, Tay, it's ok...Whatever it was, it's okay."

Taylor looked at her hesitantly and nodded.

"I'll tell you, just... just give me a minute, to put it all together."

I wasn't sure how much time passed, but when she finally did speak the bass line thumping from the house was a little different. I wasn't sure if that meant is was new song or not; they played a lot of similar songs at these parties, but that was really the only measure of time we had. I couldn't really pull out my phone. That'd be a bitch move; Vicky wouldn't like that.

When she finally did speak, her voice was rough and pained.

Maybe this is what they mean when they say someone sounds haunted?

"It... I... did I ever say how I got the transfer?"

"No, you didn't. Does it have something to do with those girls back there?"

Vicky's voice was gentle and more soothing than normal. I did my best to focus on how Taylor felt; ignore how much I wanted Vicky to sound like that for me.

It mostly worked.

Taylor started speaking again, "They were... They bullied me."

Vicky stayed silent. Laughter and shouts drifted up the hill to our little enclave. Taylor flinched. Little blips of the melody escaped the house whenever someone moved in or out, and cheering punctuated success and failures in some dumb, little lawn game.

"I used to be friends with one of them. The redhead. Emma. We were... She was my only friend. I stayed with her and her family when my dad was... when he was still grieving."

I felt I could understand, a little, where she was coming from. They were like sisters.

"I came back after summer camp and she said she didn't like me anymore. That she hadn't for a while. When-"

A small hiccup interrupted her.

"When I got to high school she just bullied me and she just wouldn't stop. Her friend, the other girl back there, she was the physical one. The stuff that only happens to guys in all those teen movies, that was what she did."

Vicky and I glanced at each other; her face was tight and her eyes were wide in surprise. We knew Sophia was a bitch, but I didn't think she'd straight up attack people.

"There was another one, a cutesy girl who just did pranks. They sucked but... it wasn't as bad as what Emma did. She took everything I'd ever trusted her with and... she just used it. Things I said back when we were close, things I knew would never go further..."

I could understand what she meant. I couldn't imagine I'd last long if Vicky did the same thing to me, even though I knew she wouldn't. Vicky was just too nice.

"They backed off last November" When Sophia joined the Wards. "I thought that they were done, that I was safe again. I made a friend too. Things were getting better"

She gave a sad, bitter smile at that. Vicky squeezed her shoulder.

"When I got back after the break I knew it wasn't over. I had known that... but I guess I hoped... I just hoped they were done. As I made my way to my locker there were whispers and giggles following me. There was this... this awful smell once I got to my hallway. I knew they wanted me to look, that I was playing right into their hands, but I had to see it. I wanted to know what was worth laying off on me for so long."

Vicky and I knew it wasn't whatever had happened, but we couldn't really say it. Even if it was really tempting.

"Before the break, they must have raided all of the bins in the girls' bathrooms. I still can't believe they went that far just to fuck with me... When I opened my locker it was just... stuffed full. Hardly any room left. The whole thing smelled like... I can't even describe it."

I knew that smell. Rotten flesh from some homeless guy's foot, a few expired blood bags, that one woman's asshole after a shit ton of drug use. It was never a nice thing.

"I bent down to throw up and someone pushed me in. They shut the door and locked it. I was in there for a while and then..."

She bowed her head.

Shit, that must have been her trigger event. Certainly fits the trauma.

"The hallway wasn't empty. Not at all. There were people all around, but they didn't do anything... I lost it in there. Whenever it was that someone opened it all I did was fight, and scream and... I don't really know what happened after that. I woke up in the hospital, in the psych ward. Dad had talked to the school and they were gonna pay for it all. They didn't really offer him much more so he threatened to go to an old media contact."

She paused. I couldn't tell if it was nerves or if she was just gathering her thoughts.

"I told him about it all. He... he had a hard time hearing about what Emma did; he and her dad were old friends, but they hadn't really talked much in a while... I had some notebooks that said a lot about what happened. He said he'd see about getting them published. That was when they finally did something, pushed the transfer. I had to do some tests and some makeup work while they got everything sorted out, but that was all it took. They didn't give a shit about what happened until it was gonna hurt their image."

The end of her story hung over us, stifling any conversation. I was shocked, honestly. Shadow Stalker wasn't a normal Ward. Vicky and I both knew she was on probation from her violence as a vigilante. Even then, I didn't think she'd do something like this.

How did she get away with it?

Vicky looked furious. I could tell she was torn between staying here to comfort Taylor and going to yell at Dean for not noticing a fucking psychopath. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she decided what we were going to do.

"Look... let's just go back to our house. We can have a girl's night in, like we normally do. We'll get some pizza or some ice cream and we'll sit on the couch together and watch some romantic comedies. You don't need to deal with this right now, okay Tay?"

She nodded as she leaned into Vicky. I smothered the pangs of jealousy I was getting. Taylor needed this right now.

"Alright, let's go home."

=================================================?

The next few weeks were... interesting. Vicky and Dean had a fight and another breakup, but this one was different. Vicky had told me once that she always went back to Dean because he was so understanding because of his power (and that had hurt to hear). After what happened with Sophia, she didn't think he really understood that much even with his power. They were over.

In their normal breakups one of them would be angry at the other for some reason (I tried not to pay close attention; it usually made me depressed) and they'd fight it out until one of them would back down (usually Dean). The problem here was that Dean wouldn't back down. He always played to his name, and he thought that good teammates stuck up for one another (never mind the fact the Sophia would never do the same for him).

After their big fight Taylor had to stop Vicky from going out and making Sophia admit it. I knew what would happen in that situation (a shitton of broken bones) and it looked like Taylor had the same mental image. For once I actually liked something she was doing with Vicky. I never would have gotten her to stand down, but Taylor just kept telling her that it was all behind her. She said that she wanted to move on.

There were also these articles about a new vigilante working with Glory Girl, some bug-controlling Master named Queen Bee who was tall with long, brown hair coming out the back of her costume. I knew that was Taylor, so I had to assume the name was Vicky's idea. I seriously doubted the name was Taylor's idea.

After all that, Taylor started spending more and more time with us, especially as our group of friends broke between Dean and Vicky. We used to be centered around Dean and Vicky, but now it was looking like Taylor and Vicky (and wasn't that parallel worrying). At movie nights, they started sitting a little closer every week. They started going out together without me; getting dinner, going shopping, even just walking around the Boardwalk.

Rumors started. People talked. They were dating, they were secret lesbian lovers, or that Dean had screwed up so hard Vicky swore off men altogether. As much as that last one amused (or was it aroused?) me, the other two gave me this stupid queasy feeling in my stomach.

It wasn't until she slept over about a month later that I realized there was more truth to the rumors than I thought. I hadn't been able to sleep at all, and I was getting ready to go out to do something, anything. I probably would have ended up at a hospital again, spending the whole night barely awake and healing whoever they put in front of me.

I was just walking past Vicky's room when I heard... something.

No, that couldn't have been...

I moved closer to Vicky's door and pressed my ear up next to it. There! I heard it again. That was a moan. From Vicky's room. I was about to move away, escape the temptation, when I heard a sentence that made my stomach drop in the worst way.

"Shh, shhh! Vicky! We don't wanna wake anyone up!"

Taylor. Taylor was in my sister's room and... not the guest room. There were moans coming from the room, and Taylor was in there. They were dating, no, they weren't just dating! They were having sex! Probably kinky lesbian sex where Vicky would hold her down and... Okay, maybe that was a bit of projecting. Taylor could have been into vanilla.

Vanilla lesbian sex.

My dirty mind was not helping me at all!

"Oo~ooh! Vicky! Too much!"

Taylor was right. This was too much. I went back to my room, threw myself into bed, and cried.

=================================================?

That was how I got to this kitchen table, about a week later. Taylor was sitting across me, talking about something. I didn't care. She had taken Vicky from me. By now, I had heard them having sex a lot more than once. Now that I knew about it, I couldn't not hear it. It was one of those things.

God, she just keeps going on and on.

"Amy sweetie, are you listening to me?"

Sweetie? "Uhh huh."

"So then what's your answer?"

Shit. She asked me a question and I have no idea what it is... Smile and nod?

I smiled and nodded. "Sure!"

Taylor sighed, then got up and walked around the table.

When she got to my seat, she threw one leg over me and sat on my lap, straddling me.

She wrapped her arms loosely around my neck, leaving her hands dangling behind me. She was close, so close, only a little bit of separation between her body and mine. Her face was inches from mine and she was staring at me intently. I could feel her breath on my lips. She smelled nice.

Was she gonna cheat on Vicky?!

"Do I have your attention now?"

She had a small, seductive smile on her face now.

I swallowed, my throat and mouth suddenly very dry.

"Umm, yeah."

Her smile grew.

"Good."

There was a small pause.

"Vicky and I noticed, you know."

Oh shit.

"N-noticed what?"

I was a terrible liar. There was no way that would work. Even I could hear my voice quivering.

"We noticed you checking us out."

Fuck!

"That was what I was talking about. You weren't listening. I get the impression you don't like me..."

She was pouting playfully. She was... flirting with me. Me! Her girlfriend's sister!

"If you had been listening, you would have heard my offer. Now though... I'm thinking of rescinding it."

She can't mean... no way...

I gathered my wits, ignoring my arousal. It took a moment.

"What offer?"

She smiled at me again. A wry, teasing smile.

Is she gonna-

"Hey Ames, you wanna have a threesome?"

...

My brain shut down. Everything froze. Was I asleep? Was this whole thing some stupid dream?

Did she just call me "Ames"?

Taylor pulled me into a deep, full kiss.

My first kiss.

My first kiss was with my sister's girlfriend.

After she propositioned me.

For a threesome.

I had to be dreaming.

"Umm... Taylor?"

She looked like amused.

"Yes Ames?"

"Am I dreaming?"

She kissed me again, this time biting my lip on her way back. Okay. Not dreaming.

"Are you?"

This was hot. Unbelievably hot. I felt perverted for liking this, but it wasn't even my idea this time. Not at all.

Taylor was looking at me expectantly. Oh, right. I still hadn't answered her question.

"Can we go upstairs now?"

I couldn't just outright say it. Not even now.

"Sure thing, Ames."

There it was again. Vicky's pet name for me. It was really hot.

I was in a daze as Taylor took me by the hand and led me up the stairs. I still couldn't believe it. The whole situation, no, the whole past month was replaying in my mind. It was really weird.

I heard the door to Vicky's room open in front of me, bringing me out of my fugue.

I sucked in a shallow breath.

Vicky was sitting in a high backed office chair. I remembered when Carol bought it for her after she complained about her back one time. It was a really nice chair, built in back support and everything.

That wasn't what really caught my eye though, not at all. It was Vicky. She was wearing the sexyist thing I'd ever seen her in. A matching set of black, lace underwear with a garterbelt and stockings. The bra and panties covered just as much as what I was wearing (sports bra and panties), but everything about her was pure sex. The sheer fabric flowing up her perfect legs, the tightness of her bra, the way she crossed her legs like nothing was out of the ordinary, and a huge grin. The grin she always had when she had thought of something silly.

I was so wet.

In my focus on Vicky I had apparently missed Taylor stripping behind me. I didn't know this until she grabbed my breasts from behind and pressed herself against me. Even if I ignored my power I could feel practically every inch of Taylor, from her long legs to her small breasts.

"C'mon Ames! What's with all the clothing?"

Taylor's voice was absurdly cheerful. She sounded like a younger Vicky. God this situation was weird. A good weird.

Right. Can't really do this with my clothes on.

I reached down to the hem of my shirt and started to pull up.

Taylor took her hands off of my chest and moved them down to my pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them.

As I pulled my shirt over my head she pulled my pants down to my ankles, leaving me in between my sister and her girlfriend in nothing but my underwear. This wasn't something I was prepared for. Nothing really prepared you for this.

Having had enough of my hesitation, Taylor yanked my panties down to my ankles.

Holy shit.

Vicky smiled at me. It was a smile I'd only ever seen her give to Dean before. Probably Taylor too, but I hadn't really liked looking their way since I knew they were dating.

Apparently even this was too much time wasted for Taylor. I felt my bra snap open behind my back. I let my bra straps slide off my shoulders and down my arms.

"Eeep!"

Taylor just grabbed my breasts again!

Well... not so much grabbed as started fondling. I was practically dripping by now.

"So~oo Ames, did Tay explain our terms?"

My response was shaky at best.

"W-what? What terms?" was all I could get out as Taylor slid a hand seductively down my stomach to my crotch and unceremoniously dipped a finger in.

A moan escaped my lips and Vicky smiled.

"In order to get to me, you're gonna have to go through her."

Taylor giggled in my ear at the turn of phrase. The way her giggle clashed with what she was doing to me was amazing.

"So Ames, you up for it?"

Before I could answer my sister's question Taylor pulled me into a kiss from behind, drawing my attention away. I couldn't think, I could barely breathe. This whole situation had me reeling.

"C'mon Ames, we don't have all da~ay!"

I finally managed to pull away as Taylor took a breath. She was panting right in my ear. That had to be on purpose.

"Y-you're okay with this? Your girlfriend having sex with your sister?"

"Yup." She put a big emphasis on the "p." "It's not like any of us are gonna get pregnant."

"And then... Me and..."

I couldn't finish that sentence. I didn't want to ruin my own hopes.

"Come on Ames! We're not genetically related and as long as we keep this in the bedroom no one has to know. It'll be our little secret!"

Holy shit, she's serious.

"So we're just gonna do this?"

"Sure thing! You up for it?"

"Umm... okay... Sure!"

I did it! I said it out loud!

"Alright!"

With that exclamation Taylor stopped teasing me and shoved me towards the bed. When I turned around sat down on the edge of the bed she started talking.

"Here's how it's gonna go: I'm gonna show you how it's done. Then, you're gonna show me what you've learned. We go back and forth until I think you're good enough. Got it?"

Did she really just make sex a competition?

"Umm... sure..."

"Great! Now get all the way in the bed."

She could be as demanding as VIcky when she wanted to, so I just did as she said.

She crawled up on top of me, somehow making the action seductive. Seriously, I had no idea how she was crawling seductively. The emphasis on "crawling" made my mind go dark places.

"Hey, Amy. If you want to slow down just tell me."

Gone was the playful smirk and goofy voice, replaced with a serious and stern visage.

"No! No... I'm fine. Just... got distracted. It's fine."

She looked like she didn't believe me.

"If you have a problem, just say `Banana.'"

Really? That's their safeword? Wait, they have a safe word?

"O-okay."

My voice was still a little shaky.

She kissed me. Gently this time, like we were lovers on a picnic. Okay, not the best metaphor, but it fits the idea. It wasn't like her other kisses. They were controlling, dominating, pushing me just further than I wanted to go and they were so damn hot. This one was letting me do want I wanted. It was tender, it was sweet, it was more loving than lustful.

As she lowered herself down on top of me, her kiss was more like those earlier ones. She was on top of me, in charge of me. One hand came up to my breasts and started teasing them as the other slowly rubbed at my vagina.

She started trailing kisses down my neck right as she plunged two fingers into me. Every slow thrust of her fingers was matched with another kiss until the kissing turned into licking and sucking when she reached my nipples. She switched between them every few seconds and kept me arching my back, begging for more. It wasn't long before I climaxed.

"Oh you naughty girl! I haven't even gone down on you yet!"

She came back up to kiss me again before she pulled away and started eating me out. Her tongue swirled around my lips and my clitoris as her fingers moved in and out of me.

It didn't take me long to cum again. Taylor licked and sucked the whole way through my orgasm, not stopping til well after I was done.

She crawled up next to me and collapsed on her back.

"Well... now it's your turn Ames."

I was just lying there, out of breath. No one ever really talks about how exhausting sex is.

Smut never prepared me for this.

Maybe a minute late, I was ready to go. I sat up and rolled over on top of her, the same as we started out just reversed.

I did my best to mimic her earlier actions, a forceful kiss with both hands active. It was working, sort of. My power told me that she wasn't as aroused as she pretended. That was when it hit me. My power told me that she wasn't as aroused as she pretended. I upped the sensitivity on her breasts and lips just a little, hopefully not enough that she'd realize I'd done it.

"Ohh Amy..."

That's working.

When I started trailing kisses toward her breasts I made the sensation linger just a little longer than it should have. When I got to her nipples I used the complete picture I had of her nervous system to figure out exactly what I should do. When to lick, when to suck, when to kiss and when to bite.

She came.

Before she could say or do anything I was already eating her out. I left a phantom sensation of my lips on her breasts and made her feel like my tongue was going a lot deeper than it was. I hit her pleasure spots over and over, each and every one of them obvious to my power. Before long she was cumming again. Her hands pulled me deeper into her crotch as she arched her back up off the bed.

I sat up on my knees near the end of the bed watching Taylor's chest rise and fall.

"Wow."

She took a breath.

"That"

Again.

"Was"

Another.

"Amazing."

I smirked. I was feeling good.

"Did I pass?"

"Of course you did!"

She caught her breath again.

"Did you do something? Like, with your power? `Cause you knew me better than Vicky does."

Shit. That's just what I didn't want. Now they're gonna know my power and Vicky's gonna hate me and-

"Hey, Ames, it's not a big deal. I just wanted to know if it could make the sex better."

Huh?

"I mean... Here, let me tell you something. I have powers too."

I feigned surprise. I'd known that from the first time she and I had skin contact. There wasn't any way I didn't know that now.

"You don't look very surprised... Huh. Oh well, point being, Vicky and I use our powers for kinky sex."

Well then!

"We do a little bit of bondage play using spider silk cords— I control bugs, by the way— and sometimes Vicky'll hold me down and I'll act like I don't want it and then... Well, you get the idea. What I wanna know is whether or not your power can help us or just you."

When I had first gotten my power I'd run through a thousand different scenarios of someone realizing my power wasn't what it seemed, an Armsmaster lie detector or a slip of the tongue or an emergency where I had to heal Vicky's brain or anything else I could think of. This wasn't one of them. I didn't set up a contingency for being asked about it by my sister's naked girlfriend in the middle of some voyeuristic lesbian sex with my sister as the voyeur (dressed in the sexiest outfit ever).

This meant that I was probably doing my best impersonation of a deer in the headlights.

"Hurry up Ames, or you won't get to have fun with Vi~cky"

Taylor's singsong voice snapped me out of my daze.

"It's umm, my power's biokinesis."

There, I said it. Now we can move-

"Can you grow me a dick?"

That was Vicky.

"I told Tay about the difference between lesbian and straight sex, but I can't really show her without a dick. Sure, there's strapons and all that, but it just isn't the same."

My brain shut down again. There was no reaction available. Everything about this was so far beyond what I had ever expected out of my life that there was no way I could react normally. I barely even heard the rustling of cloth behind me. It took me a long while to bridge the gap between hearing it and figuring out just what it meant, long enough that when the implications dawned on me they were accompanied by a reenactment of the scene when I came into the room.

The one where Taylor fondled me from behind while pressing herself against me.

Except this time, it was Vicky.

I'd say I got wetter if I wasn't already drenched.

"Umm... yeah. I could..."

"Great! Now, here's the hard part."

Taylor giggled a little.

"Huh? Oh, I get it. That's why I love you Tay."

"You mean that's why you make love to me, right?"

"Same difference. Anyways, Ames, do you want your first time with me to be with or without a dick?"

This was more along the lines of my old fantasies. I mean, usually I'd do it without asking and then she'd punish me... I usually didn't last long after that.

"With. Definitely with."

"As long as you suck Tay's dick."

Ok. I was beginning to think that the weirdest had past. Nope. My sister wanted me to grow both her and her girlfriend a dick so I could be fucked by one and suck the other. This was probably their normal. I mean, they had mentioned bondage and roleplay earlier and that was just casual examples.

"Well... umm... Why not?"

"That's the spirit!"

As I began growing Vicky a dick behind me, Taylor motioned vaguely at her crotch.

I got a bad idea.

I bent over on all fours and sucked on her clit before moving to a spot just above it. As I started making her penis I made it look like I was sucking it out of her. I hoped it look sexy. At least I knew she was aroused.

Right about the time I finished Taylor's penis, Vicky entered me from behind. I started sucking Taylor off, doing my best to get as much of her into my mouth as I could. I slowly made Vicky's dick larger and longer behind me until it was just the right size. Vicky was thrusting in and out of me the whole time, apparently not disrupted by the slow changes I made. I did my best to match my movements to hers, taking Taylor as deep as I could on every one of Vicky's thrusts.

I knew that the only reason I hadn't taken Taylor all the way in was my own throat muscles. Biology was my domain, it's not like I would miss something like that. As Taylor put her hands on the back of my head I gathered the courage to relax my throat and let her all the way in.

It payed off.

I hadn't made normal semen when I built Vicky and Taylor's dicks, no that would be too boring. Instead, I made a sort of salve that would help me recover from the pounding I was getting. Since I didn't know precisely how semen was supposed to taste, I just gave it a nice savory flavor that didn't really have any natural counterpart. That sounded like the plot to some porno; a taste you could only get by sucking somebody off. I liked it.

All of this meant that when Taylor came I was the first person in history to taste that flavor. As I drank as much as I could I felt Vicky cumming in me from behind, her thrusts slowing down as she finished.

We all ended up lying on our backs in the bed, with Taylor in the middle, me on her left, and Vicky on the other side. It was a while before anyone said anything.

"You guys up for another round?"

That was apparently Taylor's top priority, more sex.

"I'm in. How about you Ames."

"Why not?"


No Fucking About



(автор: Angush)


Preface: An experiment with a post-canon, lezzy smut oneshot starring Bitch and WagTheDog (whose canon name is actually Cassie). Started off with Rachel's POV, but swapped to Cassie for the sex scene. Rachel is harder to write than I expected. I dunno if it really works, but like Cassie says: you never know until you try, right? (3,337 words)

Contains: modestly rough sex, I guess. some biting and pinching.


* * *

"Dinner's ready!" Cassie called.

Rachel gave the dog on her lap one final ruffle, then pushed him off, stood, and headed for the kitchen. Cassie was piling mashed potato onto a pair of plates. She glanced up as Rachel entered.

"Hands," Cassie said, pointing with her spoon.

Rachel grunted and moved to the sink, giving her hands a quick scrub in their washbucket. Cassie was a stickler for that shit. Once done, Rachel pulled out her chair and sat while Cassie returned the pot to the stove and doled out the green vegetables. Rachel waited, putting a firm grip on her impatience. Cassie didn't like it when people started eating without her.

Cassie pulled a tray from the grill and dropped a piece of steak on her plate, then a piece on Rachel's. It made Rachel's mouth water. Steak was rare enough to always be something special, and this was char-grilled, just the way she liked it. It smelled good too.

"Where's Janie?" Cassie said.

Rachel shrugged. "Left earlier."

"She did? Where'd she go?"

"Boyfriend's."

"She — what? She's thirteen! Where the hell did she find a boyfriend?"

Rachel shrugged again.

"You think she'll be back tonight?"

"Don't know. No."

"Damn." Cassie tapped her fingers on the bench. She looked toward the grill, at the third piece of steak she'd cooked. "I wish she'd have told me first," Cassie said. "Now that's gonna go to waste."

Rachel looked at the steak. "I'll eat it," she said. "Later. Or we can split it, I don't care."

Cassie nodded. "Okay, great. You can have it. Want me to leave it in the grill, or put it in the cooler?"

"It's fine," Rachel said. "Are you going to sit down?"

Cassie looked at her. "Oh, shit, sorry." Cassie dropped her tongs in the sink, then sat opposite Rachel and scooted her chair forward. Their knees bumped together. The table wasn't very big. Cassie picked up her knife and fork. "Thanks for waiting."

Rachel grunted, then dug in, picking up the steak with her hands and tearing into it with her teeth. The only cutlery on her side of the table was a fork, for the potato. No knife. Cassie knew Rachel didn't use those.

The steak was delicious.

They ate mostly in silence, broken only by the dogs barking outside and the clinking and scraping of Cassie's knife and fork on her plate. Rachel liked it that way. There was a time for talking and a time for eating. Trying to do both at once was stupid.

Rachel finished off the steak and moved on to the potato, picking up her fork.

"Do you like it?" Cassie said.

Rachel glanced up. Cassie was watching her, cutlery resting on the edges of her plate. Rachel swallowed her mouthful. "It's good," she said. "Good job."

Cassie's cheeks coloured, but she smiled. "Thanks."

"Mm," Rachel grunted. "Now shut up. Talk later."

Cassie laughed and nodded. "Right," she said, picking up her cutlery again.

They continued eating.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Afterwards, Cassie put the leftovers in a container, then started scrubbing the pots and utensils while Rachel devoured the third piece of steak. Rachel finished quickly. She leaned back with a sigh, feeling very full. Cassie grabbed her plate and gave it a wash too, throwing the bones into the trash — they were too small for the dogs to chew safely.

Rachel watched her work. "Where'd you get the meat?"

Cassie glanced over her shoulder. "Those two guys that came through yesterday," she said. "Remember them, with the pack mules and the bird cages? I bought a couple turkeys for the kids down at the shelter, and saw they had a few of these cuts on ice. Picked them up in Dali, they said. I bought them. Paid a good premium. I thought having a nice steak might make you feel better."

Rachel frowned. "Feel better? About what?"

Cassie looked back again. "Biter."

"What about him?"

"Uh... well, I don't know how you've been doing, since he left. I mean, are you okay? I know how close you two were and all. Can't be easy. You must miss him."

"Because we had sex?"

Cassie's cheeks coloured again. "Uh — you — huh?"

"Is that what you mean?" Rachel said. "We're close `cos we had sex?"

"Err... yeah, I guess. Wasn't he your boyfriend?"

Rachel shook her head. "Not boyfriend. Close is the wrong word. We weren't close. Not into that." She picked at a bit of meat between her teeth. "Just friends. Just sex."

"Huh?" Cassie said, frowning. "How does that work? Like... you just had sex, and that's it?"

Rachel nodded. "When we wanted to. Miss that, maybe. It was fun. He was good at it."

Cassie blushed. "You don't miss him?"

Rachel sighed, and didn't say anything for a minute. It was hard to find the words. "Maybe. He was annoying, but helpful. And fun. Sometimes." She leaned her head back, letting her neck come to rest on the chair. "He still annoys me. I don't understand."

"Don't understand what?"

"Why he left," Rachel growled. Did she have to spell everything out? "It's stupid. Doesn't make sense. We have everything we need, and your fries are good. He's just an idiot." She glared at Cassie. "And you're being annoying."

"Sorry," Cassie said. She went back to her scrubbing.

Rachel sighed. "Food was good. Janie missed out."

Cassie laughed. "Maybe that'll teach her to tell me before she leaves."

"Mm."

Cassie finished scrubbing their plates and stuck them in the rack to dry. Then she grabbed a loose cloth, dipped it in the soap water, and started wiping down the table and bench. Rachel lifted her hands to accommodate.

The dogs barked outside.

"How did it happen, the first time?" Cassie said.

"Huh?"

"You and Biter. How did it happen?"

Rachel tilted her head. "I asked him."

"To have sex?" Cassie said, surprised. "You just... asked?"

Rachel nodded. "Everyone should do that. Easy. Much less complicated. No fucking about."

Cassie paused in her cleaning. She fidgeted for a second, then spoke. "Did you like him?"

"Sometimes. I said that."

"No, I mean, did you like him? Romantically speaking?"

"I don't know," Rachel said. "What's that mean?"

"It's... urgh." Cassie ran a hand through her hair. "It's hard to explain. Um... why did you ask to have sex with him?"

"Because I wanted to."

"Right, okay, but I mean... why did you want to have sex with him?"

Rachel stared at her. "I wanted to have sex. He was there."

Cassie blinked. "That's it?"

"Yeah. What's it matter?"

"I just..." She sighed. "I don't know." She threw her dishcloth into the sink and dropped into her chair. "It just seems like there should be more to it than that."

"Stupid."

"I guess," Cassie chuckled. She looked at Rachel and chewed her lip for a moment. "So... what if I liked someone? What should I do?"

Rachel shrugged. "I don't know. Why are you asking me? Talk to Janie."

"I'm not asking her!" Cassie sounded amused. "She's too young. I just want to know what you think I should do."

"Mm." Rachel folded her arms. "Do you want to fuck them?"

Cassie blushed. A finger reached up to play with the spiked collar around her neck. "Um... y-yeah. I guess."

"Then fuck them." She sniffed. "Easy."

Cassie's cheeks grew even more red. "But... what if they don't like me the same way?"

"Then they're idiots."

Cassie laughed. "And what if I said this person was a girl? I don't know if she'd be... open to the idea. I'm pretty sure she's only been with men."

"Makes no difference," Rachel said. "Fuck who you want to fuck. Doing anything else is a waste of time." She paused, giving Cassie a moment to absorb her words. "Is that it?"

"Uh... yeah," Cassie said. "I suppose that's it. Thanks."

"Mm." Rachel stood. "You finish up here. I'll do the dogs."

"`Kay," Cassie said, then got up and started putting the rest of the leftovers into the cooler.

Rachel headed outside to check on the dogs. They were good. Rachel topped up their water buckets and binned any new shits, scratching chins as she passed.

Cassie came out after a few minutes, and went around saying "Good night" to each dog in turn. Rachel stopped to pet Bastard. He grumbled in his sleep and rolled onto his back. She scratched his belly, making him stretch his arms out and groan.

Cassie walked over. "Good night, Bastard," she whispered, giving him a rub of her own. "See you in the morning." Then she moved on to Sunny.

Rachel watched Cassie for a moment, then glanced down at Bastard. "See you in the morning," Rachel said too. She gave him one final pat, then turned and headed inside.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Cassie closed the door to her room and moved to her bed, taking care not to stumble in the darkness — though thankfully there wasn't anything to trip her over. She slid into her blankets and settled down, intending to sleep.

Her mind had other ideas.

God, why had she asked that? She was so embarrassed. Could she be any less subtle?

Then again... now that Cassie thought about it, Rachel wouldn't care about subtlety, or romance, or anything like that. She'd appreciate bluntness. Straight-forwardness. She'd said as much, right to Cassie's face.

And Rachel wasn't the kind of person to let a proposition change the way she thought of someone. That wasn't her. She'd either say yes, or she'd say no. If she said no, Cassie could just return to her room and go to sleep. Nothing would change. But if she said yes...

Cassie stood, throwing her blankets back.

No fucking about. Rachel's words.

Cassie left her room and went down the hall, stopping outside Rachel's door. She hesitated, like an idiot. But she steeled herself, thinking about what Rachel had said, and knocked on the door.

Her cheeks were only a little bit red.

"What?"

Rachel's voice.

Cassie opened the door. Rachel stood by her bed, clearly preparing for sleep herself. Cassie crossed the room, trying to keep her steps from giving away how nervous she felt, and stopped in front of Rachel.

Cassie didn't say anything, just staring at Rachel's nose and breathing deep breaths, building her courage. Meeting Rachel's eyes would've been too hard.

"What is it?" Rachel said again.

Cassie kissed her. Roughly. Not the gentle, passionate kind of kisses she'd often exchanged with her first girlfriend, no. This was a mashing of lips, teeth bumping together. The kind of kiss you'd expect from two people who were really fucking angry with each other. Cassie bit down on Rachel's bottom lip as she pulled away — she figured Rachel would like that.

Rachel stared at her. Her breath was coming a little harder, as was Cassie's.

Cassie suddenly felt very silly. But she forced past it — she hadn't given the actual proposition yet, and you never know until you try, right? "You told me to... fuck who I want to fuck," she said, hooking a finger in the waist of Rachel's pants. "I want to fuck you."

Rachel glanced down. She growled and pushed Cassie's hand away, then met Cassie's eyes, puffing herself up like she was about to pick a fight. Cassie gulped, starting to worry she'd gravely misjudged things. Then Rachel grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her onto the bed, leaning over her. Cassie felt herself grow wet.

"Two things," Rachel said.

Cassie stared, wide-eyed. "Uh — huh?"

"This is sex. Don't make it something else. Don't be stupid."

Cassie nodded. This was more than she could have hoped for. And it was more than a little hot. "A-and the second thing?"

Rachel leaned in closer, their eyes meeting. Cassie looked away with a blush. "You're not in charge," Rachel said. "I am."

Then, before Cassie could respond, Rachel's hand was in her pants, calloused fingers driving right past her panties and forcing their way into her pussy. She gasped, her entire body tensing up at the sudden entry — though she was already wet enough that it posed no problem.

Rachel planted one hand on the bed beside Cassie and began her finger-fucking in earnest. Rachel wasn't gentle about it, and her fingernails weren't as closely trimmed as Cassie would have liked, but holy shit, it didn't matter — Cassie loved every moment of it.

Her legs trembled uncontrollably beneath Rachel's assault as her body fought to pull away — though she didn't truly want to escape. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, her stomach undulating unevenly in proof. She heard her own moans and gasps and attempts at saying Rachel's name — all cut short by the relentlessness of Rachel's fingers in her pussy. Her hands raked at the bedsheets, already struggling to keep her propped upright, until finally she collapsed onto her back, her arms moving instead to curl around Rachel, pulling her closer.

Rachel growled again, withdrawing her fingers. Cassie whined, already missing the roughness. But her whine turned into a squeal as Rachel grabbed her and spun her around so she faced the wall. Cassie barely had a second to come to terms with her new position before Rachel's hands grasped Cassie's pants and tore them straight down to her knees — panties included. And then Rachel's hand was cupping Cassie's sopping pussy once more, fingernails pinching and squeezing her labia and making her flinch instinctively, though it felt wonderful.

Then Rachel slipped her fingers inside and resumed her raw, almost animalistic finger-fucking. Cassie collapsed onto her chest, her ass held up by Rachel's hands, as Rachel's rough fingers reached deeper than ever, deeper than anyone's fingers had ever gone. Rachel fucked her hard and fast, giving no real thought to technique. There was no clever twisting or curling, no variance in speed and depth. Just pure friction, Rachel's fingernails and calloused tips grinding against every inch of Cassie's pussy as they moved in and out and in and out, again and again and again, never stopping, never ceasing, not ever giving Cassie a moment of rest.

Cassie had never expected something so simple to feel so amazing, but this was so hot! She'd never been so turned on in her life. Not that she had time to consider that — Rachel's fingers kept her more than occupied. She felt Rachel lean in over her body, felt Rachel's clothes slide against the bare skin of her ass. She shivered and curled up into her lover's body. She felt Rachel's breath against her neck, though Rachel's fingers never stopped.

Then Rachel bit her, teeth grabbing a chunk of her neck and biting down hard, maybe hard enough to draw blood. It hurt, but Cassie didn't care — it only served to rile her up even further. Her entire body began to tremble as Rachel's fingers continued to fuck her, destroying her pussy — or so it felt — and Rachel bit her again, and again, just as hard, in different places each time.

Like she was marking Cassie as her own.

The thought made her whine. She gasped and spluttered pleas, begging Rachel not to stop, to fuck her harder and harder and never, ever, ever stop. Doubtless her utterances were broken nonsense, her breath coming as short as it was, but Rachel seemed to understand, and did as Cassie asked: her fingers started to move faster, harder, deeper, too fast for Cassie's pussy to adapt, her tight clamping not slowing Rachel's fingers at all. Cassie found herself unable to do anything but gasp and whine and bite down on the mattress. It was so fucking GOOD!

Then Rachel's other hand slapped Cassie's ass, and Cassie came with a scream, barely muffled by the mattress, her pussy spasming in a climactic euphoria. But Rachel didn't stop. Her fingers didn't stop fucking Cassie's half-ruined pussy. Her hand slapped Cassie's ass again, just as hard, fingernails digging in painfully, sweetly. Cassie's legs kicked pointlessly, trying to get away, to push Rachel back, but Rachel's grip was too strong, and Cassie's strength had all but left her.

She came again.

And again.

Finally, Rachel got a clue — though Cassie was a slobbering mess by then: her mouth locked in a gasp, her heart racing fast enough it seemed about to explode, her chest working madly as if she were in the midst of hyperventilation. Rachel let go of her ass, and Cassie collapsed to the bed with a pleased groan. Her pussy felt raw. Like sitting down was going to hurt for a long while.

Dimly, she felt Rachel move, climbing onto the bed. Cassie glanced over and watched as Rachel stripped naked, discarding her clothes to the floor. Cassie couldn't take her eyes away. Rachel wasn't beautiful — she hardly counted as pretty on her best days — but her body was toned and hard and hot, with large, firm breasts above a tight abdomen and strong thighs fencing in a dark-lipped, unshaven pussy. The sight of Rachel's body made Cassie feel hot again.

Rachel leaned down and hooked a finger in the collar Cassie wore about her neck, then used it to pull Cassie forward. Rachel spread her legs, giving Cassie a good look at her pussy.

"Lick."

Cassie was exhausted, but not that exhausted. She crawled forward and immediately buried her mouth in Rachel's already-wet pussy, eating her out with as much gusto as she could muster. She made a concentrated effort to be as rough as she could, using her teeth to great effect: nibbling on Rachel's labia and clitoris and drawing back every so often with one of Rachel's folds stuck between her teeth, stretching it out.

Rachel seemed to enjoy it. She grunted every time Cassie bit her, and groaned whenever Cassie sent her tongue in for some spelunking. Not long after Cassie started work, Rachel brought her hands up to knead her own breasts, squeezing them hard, digging her fingernails into her skin, pinching and pulling at her nipples. It turned Cassie on even more, knowing she was pleasing the woman she adored, and she doubled down on her own efforts, pushing Rachel's legs further apart and keeping them there with her hands.

Cassie felt Rachel's hand on the back of her head, and suddenly she was being pushed further into Rachel's crotch, her mouth touching nothing but pussy, her nose grinding against Rachel's clitoris. It was becoming difficult to breathe, but Rachel's hand kept Cassie locked against her hot, dripping pussy.

"Harder."

Cassie nodded and did as commanded, eager to please — and knowing the only way she would be released and allowed to breathe without obstruction was if she made Rachel come, and come hard.

So she did just that.

Her jaw soon became sore, but her tongue and teeth worked tirelessly, biting and pulling and licking and thrusting. Cassie brought her hands over to help. She thrust two fingers as far into Rachel's tight pussy as they could fit, and used what little technique she'd picked up in high school to show Rachel the intricacies of finger-fucking another woman.

Rachel liked it, if her grunting moans were any indication — Cassie suspected Rachel would have been just as happy with a similar treatment to what she had given Cassie not long ago, but Cassie didn't have the energy for that. The other hand Cassie used to pinch and flick at Rachel's clit, to even greater effect, leaving Rachel's body quivering.

It wasn't long before she came.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Afterwards, Cassie lay curled against Rachel's side, her head on Rachel's chest as Rachel stroked Cassie's hair the way she stroked the dogs. It made Cassie feel safe.

Cassie shifted, pulling the blanket over them more. "Did I do good?" she said tiredly.

Rachel grunted. "You were fine," she said, reaching a hand down to squeeze Cassie's ass. "You can do better next time."

"Mm..." Cassie said, running her hand over Rachel's firm stomach. "Next time..."


Magical Girl Lady Heart Enters the Fray!



(автор: Vague Wanderer)


The screams were the first sign that something was wrong. She had been in the restroom, paying the price for some incredibly greasy breakfast tacos when they started.

When she crept out of the rest room, she wasn't sure what she expected. A robbery, maybe a supervillain attack.

She was not expecting to see the bookstore's owner getting raped by a catgirl.

That was the only accurate term. The girl— Case 53?— had cat ears and a light coat of black fur, and her tail was twitching as she rode the proprietor's shaft.

Someone else probably wouldn't have blamed Taylor for running. She had one arm, no weapon, and no powers, and the catgirl was clearly a cape, with completely unknown powers.

But she didn't. Instead, Taylor calmly unhooked her prosthetic, walked up behind the catgirl, and clubbed her over the head with it. Then she kicked her in the face a half dozen times for good measure.

It stayed down. No Brute factor then, or at least not much of one.

"Thank you. I— just thank you." He stood slowly, covering his groin with one hand. "She just ran in and jumped me. She didn't say 'nothing or any— urggh." He bent over, clutching his chest.

"Are you OK?"

"Ugh, no. This pain— Argghh!"

Taylor dropped her improvised club moving closer to help, offering her hand, only to jerk it back as she got a look at what was happening.

Patches of black fur were sprouting on his arms, and his flesh rippled as he visibly shrank. His ears were migrating up the side of his head, shifting into cat like shapes, and she could see the beginning of a tail poking out of his ass.

"God, I'm turning into one of them" His voice broke as he said it, shifting from a baritone to something lighter, and Taylor could see his cock retreating, even as the tattered remains of his shirt began to show the swell of new breasts.

"Yes, you are. Can you control yourself?"

"I— it's getting hard to think. You— you need to run. It's too late for me. Run!"

"Do you have a back room I could lock you in? Anything like that?"

"No, the locks don't work that way. Urghh!" He arched backwards, giving Taylor an eyeful of his— or rather her— new plumbing. "It's almost through. Run!"

She grimaced. "I'm sorry."

Then she picked up her prosthetic and clubbed her over the head with it. She kicked her a few times for good measure, finishing up by knocking over a book case, pinning her to the ground.

Turning away, she realized she had an audience. Two catgirls stood at the front of the bookstore, both in various states of undress, apparently somewhat cowed by what she had done to their newest recruit.

But not that cowed, unfortunately. They advanced slowly, neither quite willing to risk coming within range of Taylor's impromptu club, but pushing her back nonetheless.

Then everything went sideways. Literally, as one of her legs was pulled out from under her. She fell, barely having enough time to realize she'd made the mistake of stepping back within range of the former proprietor. She kicked the hand that was grasping her, once, then twice, barely breaking free in time to roll to the side as the other two pounced, swiping at them clumsily with her prosthetic arm.

It wasn't enough. The swing was clumsy, slow, and the nearest catgirl grabbed the arm, tossing it aside. Taylor scrambled back desperately, on her legs and arm, barely avoiding a grapple, as she retreated.

For their part, the catgirls advanced slowly, victory visible on their faces, confident their prey was trapped. Taylor's eyes darted around looking for a weapon, but the only books within reach were mass market paperbacks.

She grimaced. Not enough. She knew that, but she also knew she wasn't going down without a fight. So she grabbed a Maggie Holt novel, prepared herself to charge, and then-

And then a miracle occurred.

It appeared with a flash of light, a silver and gold pen shaped object appearing out of thin air. Her hand reached out to grab it, dropping the book as she grasped it, knowing that it was hers on a level that was difficult to put into words.

The catgirls stopped, confused as she raised the pen above her head, the wording to her tongue of their own accord.

"I am the Avatar of Love and Beauty, the Protector of Passion and Joy! Guardian Lady Heart, Power Up!"

Even before she could flush with embarrassment at what she had just said, she found herself in a void, the store, the books, her enemies and even her clothing dropping away as she was surround by stars. She felt confusion for a moment, but then she began to hear a distant beat filled her, an oddly familiar melody that she felt herself moving with, a dance she had never heard but somehow knew intimately. Ribbons of light begin spinning around her, and she watched in joy as they wrapped her bad arm, suffusing it in light as it regrew to as it once was.

Then they began to wrap themselves around the rest of her body, and she realized that regrowing her arm was not the only change that was occurring. She felt her hips widen and her breast grow even as she grew a few inches taller, and then the ribbons were solidifying, turning into cloth. She had just enough time to process that there didn't seem to be very much of it before she was back in the shop, facing down two very confused catgirls.

She struck first, word once more coming to her mind unheeded as she shouted "Beautiful Binding!" and Silken Ribbons launched themselves from her arms, wrapping themselves around the two catgirls, all at once giving her a new sense— she could feel them, their thoughts, their emotions, their drives. Lust and an almost animalistic sense of predation dominated them, drowning out the humanity that was buried at their cores, driving them to rape, but it also gave her a lever that she could manipulate just...like...that.

Both catgirls fell to the floor, writhing in ecstasy in their silken binds as orgasm after orgasm wracked their bodies, washing away their willpower as Taylor tightened her mental grip, probing deeper. Their old personalities were still there, but buried deep, smothered by a foreign presence that linked to the both of them, a dark line that pointed towards the food court. She plucked at it for a few moments before giving up; she had no idea how to go about cutting the link, so instead she simply settled for putting them to sleep. She repeated the process twice more with the other two catgirls, taking care to ensure they would not wake up an attack any others.

Then she moved to leave the store, stopping abruptly as she caught a glimpse of her own reflection.

"Well, fuck me." She took a deep breath. "Ok. I'm wearing a harem girl outfit, I have magical ribbon powers, and I'm now a redhead, for reasons. And if that wasn't enough, I still have to figure out how to stop the catgirl apocalypse." Another deep breath. "Fuck my life." She sighed. "Gah. To hell with it. If Parian can fight Endbringers with stuffed animals, then I can do this."

And with that, she headed off towards the food court, in search of the source.


No Title Yet



(автор:Thread Necromancer)


What... what the hell!?

There stood Taylor... well stood defiantly worked but what she was doing was standing on facing me on all fours back legs tied up with some leather restraints. Her mouth was held wide open by a mouth harness that attempted to mimic a felines while also holding her mouth in place. Most of her body's covered in a latex and soft leather harness that restricts her movement and is quite tight on her. Protruding from her back are two small bat-like wings held in place by another leather belt. Coming from her bare ass is a cat tail that limply swings from her sudden stop at her mistresses command. Her hands are covered by mittens that keep her from using her hands and attached to her arms are chains leading to ring piercings on her massive breasts. Around her neck is a thick collar that is attached to the harness and has a leather leash leading to the hand of the demon that is leading her. On her head are cat ears lending themselves to further make Taylor look like some sort of hot pet cat girl. Though she also has little horns poking out of her forehead.

She never had breasts like that before!

Course this world has seemed to affect her different than me... I myself used to be normal until I had begun drinking some of the goblin ale to stay hydrated and now I looked just like them only without the slutty bondage gear that they had. Plus because of their stupid drink I lost even more of my height than what I already had!

"My my what is a goblin doing so far into the woods? Usually the tentacle monsters keep you little guys out." The demon asks. When Taylor starts to hide her face the demon gives her a slap on her rump. With a shock Taylor's head jumps up and her face turns even deep red.

"Te-tentacle monsters? and I'm not a goblin... I just look like one..."

"Oh you were human then just like my pet hmm? Well looks like your settling in just fine around here. Soo do you like my pet, she was a pretty hard catch but I managed to get her in the end." The demon tugs at Taylor's leash making her fall over onto her plump breasts.

"Ahh, fallen again, you know what that means don't you pet." With a flick of her finger the demon's hand glows pink for a moment before it dissipates. The tail that Taylor is wearing starts to vibrate and Taylor lets out a moan as her hips sway at the treatment of her ass.

"Come on get up pet, we still have a long walk ahead of us." Slowly Taylor picks herself up from her fallen position and the duo begin to walk. Panicking I shout.

"Wait!" The demon turns.

"Yes by little goblin friend?"

"Uh... Could... Could you take me with you?" The purple demon raises an eyebrow at my question, amusement shining in her eyes.

"Don't you have some where to be or do you want, something else?" As she speaks the last word a massive blue cock balloons out of her clit already leaking pre as she strokes it,

"I-I just, I mean, I... I don't have anywhere to stay is all..." My blush reaches a point where I am sure it is absolutely radiant, and I am not sure that it all is just from the demon's new cock.

"Oh your adorable! How can I say no when you have such a cute face! Come along to my house then. We can let you get your bearings there." The demon and her pet Taylor begin walking off once more and I rush to follow them. The way she said it, I am not sure that she doesn't have any ulterior motives... Though it isn't as if I have anywhere else to be. Even with my new stubby legs we walk at a comfortable pace. Probably because of Taylor's current situation as the demon's pet. Taylor moans sporadically as her tail plug vibrates. Every once an a while we will meet up with a demon imp or a goblin as we walk out of the deep forest. We even meet a satyr.

"Well what an adorable little cat you have there" The satyr walks out of the woods around us and makes a bee line for Taylor.

"Yes she is wonderful, took a bit to train her to be like this but well as you can see the results are worth it." The demon runs her hand along Taylor's full ass before spanking it sending Taylor forward a bit making her bosom swing forward enticingly. The satyr's eyes are locked with Taylor's swinging breasts entranced by the sight.

"Say how about I give 'er a nice good fucking eh? She is just beggin' for it. It's in her eyes."

"Maybe" The she demon bends down giving both me and the satyr a nice view of her perfect ass as she tenderly takes Taylor's gagged jaw in her hand and asks.

"Do you want this nice satyr to fuck you nice and good?" She asks Taylor. For a moment I expected Taylor to shake her head no but she bobs it up and down eagerly.

"You know you will get punished... Do you want punishment?" Taylor shakes her head this time.

"Well you can't have both pet, so what shall it be? A nice fuck or shall we leave this poor boy to suffer having to go find a glade to have it's way with him?" Taylor seems to contemplate her choice for a moment before crawling her way over to the satyr and sticking her ass up into the air readying herself for the satyr.

"Well if you insist." The She demon walks over to her and takes out her tail plug and instead pulls out a long and thick vibrator that is attached to a leather piece that she then plunges into Taylor's pussy and attaches the leather to the harness with a snap. She then turns to the satyr and declares.

"Have at her." She then punctuates this with a slap on Taylor's ass. Wasting no time the erect shaft of the satyr is soon being guided by the satyr to Taylor's ass. From where I stand I can already see drops of girly juices dripping from Taylor's snatch. As the satyr's cock thrusts into her ass there is a gush of girl cum dripping from where the demon had stuck the vibrator in Taylor's pussy and she lets out a moan of ecstasy as she cums. The satyr does not wait for her to finish moaning as he begins to hump her rump. Drawing back until his equine dick nearly pops out before plunging back into Taylor's back door. Taylor's owner comes over as the satyr continues to see saw in and out of the quivering mess that is Taylor Hebert.

"This is getting me all hot and bothered, you know we could start fucking as well..." The demon strokes her cock to emphasis her point. I very nearly say yes but I restrain myself barely. If I were to accept her offer wouldn't I become like Taylor? Just a sex toy to be used by others? I couldn't do that, not when I have to find a way out of here! And if I can save Taylor as well I would as well!.

"N-no thank you."

"Defiantly not an ordinary goblin. So cutie, have a name?"

"Madison."

"My name is Hellen dear." We continue to watch as Taylor screams and moans into the ground as the satyr pummels her ass with his long thrusts that slowly get faster as time goes on. Soon I am unable to hold myself back as my hand reaches down to my green snatch. My hand begins to tease my clit as my other goes under my shirt to squeeze and toy with my breast. Watching Taylor being dominated in her bondage gear while the satyr uses her ass as his own personal hole lit a fire in me as the hand teasing my clit begins to push itself into my green slit. I lean back against a tree as I play with myself moaning along with Taylor as I feel myself float higher enjoying both the show and my fingers that work tirelessly to bring me to climax. All too soon though the satyr's thrusts reach a crescendo and finally he buries himself deep into Taylor and begins to grunt as he holds his member deep within her making Taylor let out an explosive moan as she cums once more to the satyr's ministrations.

"Enjoy the show?" Hellen is suddenly beside me with a raging hard on hidden within a silk sock that matches her sexy red silk outfit. Suddenly I realize what I have been doing and quickly pull my hands away from where they had been pleasuring me. With a sultry chuckle she once more moves towards the previously fucking duo.

"I take it you appreciated your time?"

"Oh yeah totally, if I had the patience I'd find a pet like her and just fuck her all day long. Say you wouldn't happen to be willing to sell her? I got some gems to buy her with!" the satyr declares enthusiastically as he pulls out a large sack of gemstones. Taylor seems to pop back reality there and mewls pathetically sounding like she doesn't like the idea of her being sold.

"Really? How much are you willing to pay for her?" Hellen says as he pulls out Taylor's tail plug again and slides it into her locking the cum from the satyr inside her bowels. Once more Taylor mewls out showing her dislike for the idea again.

"Shush girl, we are doing business." This shuts Taylor up as the satyr makes his opening offer.

"I'll buy her for five hundred gems."

"Five hundred gems!? Please she is at least worth ten thousand since she was a tough train!"

"Now your just over pricing her, seven hundred and fifty."

"Five thousand"

"One thousand"

"Four thousand"

"Thirty five hundred and that is my final offer!" the satyr declares. Hellen takes a thoughtful pose as she contemplates the number. She, she can't do this. She can't just sell Taylor. It's, it's illegal! Well back home it's illegal but probably not here since well Taylor's a slave now anyways and that is illegal back home to. What, what can I do? What could I do? Sure Taylor and I weren't friends. Especially after I and the others bullied her but that doesn't mean she shouldn't just be sold to anyone for the right amount of money! I, I can't just stand by as she is being sold!

"S-stop! You... you can't just sell Taylor!" I shout at them drawing their attention. The satyr's face displays anger at my attempt at disrupting his attempt on purchasing Taylor, while Hellen's face shows... amusement? Am I that pathetic in her eyes that I am just a joke?

"Who says I can't? I own her so I can sell her? Why don't you make me a counter offer?"

"Hey! This is our deal! shove off!" the satyr shouts angrily but is ignored by Hellen as she gazes at me with her alluring eyes. With her intense gaze upon me my breath hitches as I begin to panic over what to do. What could I offer her? I don't have even a close amount to what the satyr has let alone more than his final offer. What more could I give her than gems? I don't have much else other than the clothes on my back and some potions that I took off of a sleeping goblin. As I contemplate what I could possibly giver her searching through my sack she has snuck up to me and grasps my breast while another hand pulls my head gently to make me look up at her.

"Perhaps a new slave to train... it gets lonely over at my house with only my little pussy cat." She wants me? I... What should I do? I... I can't think straight... my mind is filling itself with lewd pictures... mistress... dominating me with her massive cock... being restrained in a harness like Taylor and being led around her house as she plays with our pussies and tugs on our leashes... Taylor and me with a strap on wrestling it out trying to get the upper hand over each other and trying to shove our oiled up bodies to the floor to dominate the other with our lubed up toy cocks for mistresses amusement... Before I know it or can even stop myself I nod and mistress... Hellen gives a sinister snicker before turning on her demonic heels and declares to the satyr.

"This goblin has a better deal than you. Begone!" Hellen points off in a dismissive gesture. The satyr looks like he is about to charge us or go for Taylor but eventually he walks off muttering about damned goblins. Suddenly Hellen bursts out laughing and moves back over to Taylor petting her head.

"Aw were you scared that I'd sell you my adorable little pussy cat? Hm Hm come here let me give you a kiss." Hellen then leans down and gives Taylor a kiss on the forehead. She then turns to me.

"You played your role wonderfully!" Hellen then take Taylor's collar once more and begins to move on after once more turning on Taylor's tail plug. She, she wasn't going to sell Taylor after all? It was just a trick. I just signed my life away to this bombshell of a woman because of a trick? And why did as soon as she came up to me I started seeing all those... lewd... pictures... did... did she master me?

"Oh by the way I was never planning to sell Taylor here. She is too fun and well, she is nice to hang out with." They were friends? Before I have time to contemplate this they have already turned and moved on as Taylor breaths shakily from the vibrators making her wet and sending pleasurable shivers through her body. Not wanting to be left behind I chase after her.



* * *


"Ah home sweet home." When Hellen opens the door to her house I would have expected some sort of evil demonic lair filled with torture devices and satanic symbols everywhere but it just seems normal if a little low tech with candle light lamps no sign of a television. The windows let tones of light into the house so that the place was well lit while also having curtains in case someone wanted less light. Most of the furniture was well sanded and polished wood with some stone surfaces that like the wood were nice and smooth. Upon entering the house Hellen proceeded to remove Taylor's mask gag allowing her to speak for the first time. Though how eventually as we had been walking and her eyes had gained an almost maddened look what she wanted was quite clear.

"Puh please mistress! I... I need it!" Taylor shouted out uncaring about my presence as she had gone beyond reasoning long ago with both of her vibrators slowly breaking her down. Apparently Hellen had been controlling the vibrators as whenever Taylor's moans had begun to pick up she just stopped the buzzing causing Taylor to whine in despair at the loss of stimulation, apparently not being aloud to cum was her punishment for fucking the satyr before to get her release early.

"Hmm, maybe. Or maybe I should have your friend here enjoy you hmm?" Me? What could I do? I don't have a cock like Hellen and I am not even sure Taylor would even want me near her and to do something so... embarrassing with me. I, I couldn't. Though... maybe? I got so hot when Hellen had the satyr fuck Taylor there and I didn't even get to have my fun before they finished... plus, Hellen kept teasing me on the way here and Taylor crawling on her hands and knees panting and moaning from the vibrators was totally hot... I, no it's wrong. Mom says that... but she isn't here.

"Noh! I want you mistress!" O-oh... I guess I should have expected that.

"But poor Madison needs release too." Suddenly Hellen gets a sinister look on her face. I am not sure I like it.

"I know! How would you like a sister in slave hood hmm?" She asks Taylor but I know she is asking me. Apparently her little act with the satyr didn't count thankfully but now she wants me to... to join in! I, I couldn't! I, I-I... I want to but... but. Hellen walks over to the door of the house and closes the door and locks it. She then pulls out a key and dangles it in front of me.

"If you want to leave you can just take this key and unlock the door, otherwise just kneel down in front of me and we can get started." She then walks over to the living room of the house and puts it down on the table there as Taylor happily follows her into the room on all fours with the vibrators still buzzing. I enter the room and Hellen is already toying with Taylor. They sit on her couch with Taylor in Hellen's lap having her breasts massaged by the demon while Hellen whispers to her probably naughty things as Taylor has a blush as red as Emma's hair. The vibes still buzz and Taylor is still dripping but Hellen doesn't seem to mind Taylor getting her juice all over her. I switch from watching the duo play and look over to the key to the house. As I move to take it I hesitate and look over to Hellen and Taylor again. They look so... happy together. In fact that is probably the happiest I have ever seen Taylor. It... it's beautiful what they have. A beautiful S and M relationship. I, I had always fantasized about something like that but, I thought that something like this could only happen in fantasy though here it is. I want in and here is Hellen giving me the in I want but. Would that be fair to Taylor? Could I even intrude on this? She seems happy here unlike back at Winslow. Back on earth Bet. I, couldn't just come into her relationship like this, it's wrong. I go to pick up the key and begin to move to the door before I hear Hellen ask Taylor a question.

"Would it be alright for Madison to join us?" I freeze. I watch Taylor who has come back to her senses for a moment look between her mistress and me. Eventually I think she sees something for just a moment. Eventually she speaks.

"I... I am not sure. You, you and the others did things to me, for a year and a half you tormented me. I'm not sure I can get over that..." There is a long pause as even the vibrators stop as we wait on Taylor's verdict. As I am about to make my way to the door Taylor speaks once more.

"But... I think I will try."


Breeder



(автор: vyor)


I wrote a kinky thing for asdx.

Contains: Implications of dub-con, loli, bugs, and... uh... the fetish where lots of living creatures shove themselves into someone's womb kinkily.

Enjoy:



* * *


Vista schooled her face into impassivity, she thought a little bit of irritation leaked through as the guy lecturing her, Russel she thought, quickly began wrapping up.

"In conclusion, you must patrol around her territory and not through it, at least until you're older." She didn't stop a facial tick that time, but he was already looking away, considering her dismissed.

Very few things pissed Vista off more than being told she wasn't old enough for something, she was the most veteran ward after all. Really, all it did was harden her resolve to commit mutiny. It was bad enough that she was forced to wear her girly costume, but being told she couldn't even walk through part of the city?

That rankled her.

So, she decided, why not go all the way if she was already going to break the rules?



* * *


Vista took a breath and tightened her grip on the 'borrowed' stun baton, "Now or never," she muttered to herself more than to anyone around.

Closing her eyes, she took a step forward, bracing for... something, though nothing happened. Stepping into Breeder's territory was rather anticlimactic and people had started to stare at her, if not many thanks to how late it was.

'Right, heroes are allowed to go through unless we antagonize her.'

A few hours of walking through the moonlit streets and no sign of anything strange, she was about to head home before a malformed creature stomped out from an alleyway near her.

The man shaped mass of flesh spoke, it's gravelly voice sounding almost thunderous on the empty street, "You have two choices." It paused, seeming almost surprised by her height, "You can either leave, or you ca-"

Vista interrupted it, "I choose option two," and brandished her stun baton.

She charged the brute, using her power to shorten the distance between them, and slammed the electrified end into its gut. It twitched slightly before grabbing at her.

Using her powers to increase the distance between them and rolling backwards allowed it to miss Vista, though it was far closer than she'd have liked.

This went on for a few minutes, back and forth, Vista and the creature becoming visibly tired.

Before long she realized she needed to end it soon, she heard others coming, so she rolled towards it when it went for a grab. Spinning on her heel, she slammed the prod into its back, feeling it sink in several inches, before moving away from its wild thrashing.

It collapsed, only twitching very slightly before ceasing, the charge on the baton having run out. Vista moved to retrieve it, only now noticing how much of an orc it looked like.

It came free with a squelch and a scent of burned meat, the weapon's tip covered in blackened viscera. She sighed and fell back into a nearby wall, knowing that there was no way she wouldn't get caught now.

She didn't hear the quiet burble of a slime like creature rolling down the wall behind her until it was too late. She gasped once before darkness filled her vision, passing out to the feeling of embarrassment and fear.



* * *


She woke slowly, the dreamless sleep leaving her feeling very rested. Tutting echoed through the barely lit room.

Breeder stepped into her line of sight, her living costume alight with bio-luminescent stuff, probably the same thing lighting the damp, warm, writhing room. It danced across the suit, mesmerizing Vista before the villain, Breeder, spoke, "Well, you're my youngest catch to date." Vista bristled, "Ah, struck a nerve, I'm sorry. Don't worry, I'm sure this will more than make it up to you."

Vista blinked, suddenly very confused, "I'm sorry? I don't understand how kidnapping me and keeping me locked up will improve my opinion on you."

She could practically feel the smile from the masked master, "Oh sweetie, I'm going to make you feel like the woman you truly are. Won't that be fun?"

Any words that Vista had died in her throat as the woman rubbed their hand against her bare stomach. Her heart fluttered as they held their head above her own, dark hair cascading around them both, showing a haunting beauty as glowing lines outlined her face, "I'll be with you, right here, for the entire time, if you ever want it to stop, even for a moment, tell me."

It wasn't a request, it was an order, and Vista found it to be one of the most arousing things she could think of in that moment.

Feeling lips on her neck, she groaned, suddenly feeling far to hot. The were incessant, kissing, sucking, and rubbing on her, never in the same place twice. It was driving her mad... before it suddenly stopped and Breeder whispered into her ear, "I think you're just about perfect now, let's begin."

Vista felt nothing but frustration now, she had been liking the feeling that had been coiling, growing within her. She didn't dare speak though, dreading and hoping what came next.

Her eyes widened as she felt things crawling up her legs before whimpering, preparing to beg to be let go before she felt a finger on her lips, the masked beauty gently, reassuringly, shushing her. "It's ok," they whispered, "none of this will harm you, all it will do is make you feel good, ok?"

Vista nodded, calmer, her soothing voice and amazing scent and how pretty everything was in that moment removing most of her fear, and the bugs, which had gone still, began to move again.

Crawling up her legs they ran over her sensitive slit, pressing themselves against it while Breeder massaged her small breasts. Vista moaned lightly as they teased her, the feeling from before coming back and redoubling on itself.

Then she felt warm lips on hers even as she tried to gasp, the lead creature forcing itself within her, taking her virginity.

More followed, the slime covering them making it simple to slip in and seeming to allow her flesh to stretch more than is naturally possible. Pleasure followed them, blanking Vista's mind with pleasure and making her writhe against her living bindings. They stopped entering after a short time, more just rubbing on her engorged labia.

She felt the ones inside, filling her up, rubbing and wriggling against her most sensitive spots and against the very back of it all. The coiling inside her was becoming unbearable and she needed more.

The tantalizing, delicious, soft lips pulled away and she whined. "Oh, you want it so badly, them inside you, all the way into you, deeper than anyone besides me could ever hope to reach?"

She reached for those teasing lips with her own, before begging, pleading, "Yes, please, give me everything! I need it! Please..." She trailed off, her pride in shambles before being kissed again.

"Of course, my pretty, wonderful, girl." Another kiss and a wave of ecstasy exploded from her crotch as the multilimbed creature crawled through another hole, deep inside her. She screamed into the fellow hero's wonderful mouth as they kept coming inside. Filling her up more and more until each and every bug was inside, writhing and twisting like a million tentacles. The pressure that had built snapped and built over and over again.



* * *


She didn't know when she stopped screaming, nor did she know the exact moment she passed out. She did know that when she woke up Breeder was with her, a glass of water in hand. "Drink up, you've lost a lot of fluids." Vista took the drink gratefully, smiling at her and trying to ignore her scratchy throat.

"I can leave them inside you if you want, they feed off of the natural lubricant you produce and their waste is just an aphrodisiac. All you need for them to do anything is masturbate for a bit." Vista could hear the smile in her voice, she felt pride for having created these things... Vista couldn't blame her, nor could she turn down the offer.

She coughed, "I... I think I will. Keep them I mean. Thank you..." she trailed off, not sure what more there was to say.

Breeder hugged her, and she tried to control the slight flutter in her heart from that, "I'll have one of my creatures carry you to the Ward base. I have a feeling that you weren't supposed to have come here, so I shorted your phone and have a note stating that you merely got lost and crashed at one of my basses for the night." Another hug, "When you want to leave, just head through that door."

Vista nodded before she continued, "Come back any time, I would love to play with a cutie like you again."

Vista thought she might just take up that offer, she wanted to touch Breeder again. To feel her. To kiss her.

She left too thoughts of worshiping that hidden body, becoming turned on once again.

And beneath her mask, Taylor sighed and smiled contentedly.


Worm: The Dating Sim (Amy)



(автор: Anguish)


Amy crept up to her front door, casting fearful looks over her shoulder. The front yard was empty, as was the street beyond. She withdrew her key but fumbled, needing two attempts to unlock the door. She opened it slowly, quietly, and closed it the same way.

The house was dark. That is to say, no lights were switched on — there was still an abundance of natural light leaking in from behind the drawn curtains, as the sun had yet to set.

Amy restrained her relief. She didn't trust it. She stepped past the foyer and swallowed her nerves. "Victoria?" she said, dreading a response.

All she got was silence.

Amy sighed. "Thank God for that," she said under her breath, wiping the sweat from her forehead and entering the house, rounding the corner to the lounge room.

A light switched on. Amy shrieked, jumping into the air and flailing like a panicked cat. Her keys flew from her hands and landed on the coffee table.

"Where have you been?"

Amy's feet finally reunited with the ground. She wobbled and held a hand out, supporting herself against the wall. "Jesus fucking Christ!" she said, closing her eyes and taking deep, calming breaths. At least it isn't Victoria, she consoled herself. "You couldn't have at least waited with the light on, Carol?"

Carol sat in her favourite armchair, right beside Amy's own ridiculously-expensive recliner — an unwanted result of Carol and Victoria's gift-battle from last year; Amy was just glad it hadn't ended in bloodshed again. Carol didn't move. She didn't even answer the question, rhetorical though it was. "Where have you been, Amy?"

Amy made a conscious effort not to freeze. That would be a suspicious thing to do. "Hospital." She swallowed as naturally as possible. "How was your day?"

Carol leaned forward, interlocking her fingers. Her eyes were sharp in the darkness. "Why are you lying?"

"H-huh?" Amy said. "I-I'm not! I was — "

"I saw you," Carol said, leaping to her feet. She stalked forward, each step echoing danger. "I know. You were seeing that Taylor girl again. Did you think I wouldn't find out? I saw you! Laughing. I saw her touch you. I thought you'd know better than to spend time with that... that slut!"

Amy back-pedalled until she hit the wall, her legs scrambling fruitlessly. She was having difficulty speaking except in stammers and stutters. Amy would have expected this from Victoria, but Carol was supposed to be the stable one... comparatively speaking. "Y-you followed me?" Amy said.

"I had to keep you safe," Carol said, her eyes unblinking, and more than a little wild. She stepped up to Amy, their faces only inches apart. Carol raised a hand to caress Amy's cheek, running a thumb over Amy's lips absently. "You'll understand soon enough. How much I love you."

Amy trembled, feeling sweat bead on her forehead. "W-we weren't doing anything!" she said. "It was just lunch! A-and a movie. But I — I'd never c-cheat on you, I swear! We're just f-friends!"

"YOU HELD HANDS!" Carol screamed.

"I — she — it was an accident!"

"No!" Carol turned away and began pacing in small, tight circles, shaking her head. "No, no, no. I've let this go on long enough. She's trying to ruin what we have together. She's trying to corrupt you, to make you like her. That whore is trying to take you from me!" Carol growled like an animal, baring her teeth in the process. She snapped her arms out, and glowing red blades materialised on her forearms, ending eight inches beyond her fingers. Her eyes reflected the harsh red light. It made her look even more menacing. "I can't let that happen. I won't."

Carol turned and headed for the door. Amy leapt in front of her, panicking almost as much as that time Crystal had found Amy's porn collection. "W-wait!" Amy said. "Please, Carol, you d-don't have to do this."

Carol met Amy's eyes with a soft gaze. "It's for your own good. She's trying to take you from me. I have to."

Amy clenched her fists to still their trembling. "N-no," she said. "There's nothing between Taylor and me, Carol. Trust me." She licked her lips hesitantly. "Y-you're all I need," she said, then leaned up and kissed Carol on the cheek. "D-don't worry about her."

Carol stared at Amy for a long moment. Then her entire face flushed a deep red in an instant. She spun on one heel and sprinted up the stairs, her blades disintegrating.

Amy heard a door open, then close. It was followed by a moment of blissful silence.

Then she heard Carol's high-pitched, girlish squeals echo through the house.

Amy sank to the floor, trembling all over. She didn't move, didn't make a sound. She just sat there, listening to her adoptive mother's ecstatic freak-out until Carol finally seemed to tire herself out.

Amy sighed into her hands. She'd have to be more careful on her dates with Taylor. That had nearly been a disaster.

But, she consoled herself, at least she knew how to deal with Carol. For the most part.

And hey, it could have been worse.

It could have been Victoria.


Taylor Hijacked



(автор: gna)


AN — So, usually I don't like noncon, and initially wanted it to not go that direction and even set it up to allow for a positive resolution, but it somehow got away from me. In other words this got very Dark (and I mean very dark!).

This is set after she was outed as a double agent by Armsmaster post Leviathan.

(Edit: Warnings: Noncon, Scat, and Taylor suicides)



* * *


"You wanted to sell us out!" Brian — Grue, ground out "You joined us under pretenses and you planned to turn us in to the PRT!"

It hurt. Deep down, I knew now I could never come back to them. My decision to not betray them right before the Endbringer made the accusation cut even deeper.

"Please!" I wiped the tears from my eyes "I've reconsidered!"

"She has!" Lisa interjected "Until right before Leviathan she was conflicted, now she's on our side."

My grateful look turned to dread at the response.

"How could we trust you, Lisa? You should have known before then!"

"Tell me what I can do to show I'm sorry! Please! You're my..." a sob tore out of my throat "You're my only friends!"

"Friends?" Brian punched me in the face. It made my head spin and then I was on the floor. "How would you even know?"

"Please, I'll do anything!"

"Anything?" Regent looked at me. If I hadn't known him better I'd have thought it dispassionate. Now I knew he was upset. And Introspective.

"Anything!" I got up on my knees and straightened my back.

"Let me use my power on you. My full power."

"Your full power?" I nervously glanced between my former teammates.

"Full on Body control" Lisa provided. "Once he has himself attuned to you he'll be able to re-assume control at any time. You'll be powerless to stop it."

I bowed my head. An absolute loss of control. I couldn't keep from shaking. But if that was to be my penance...

"Do it!" My throat was closing up. I didn't know if they actually heard me, so I forced myself to nod.

If it wasn't for my nerves the next few hours would have been boring. I was kneeling in the middle of the living room of some safe house while Alec was staring at me, prodding me from time to time and little else happened. Then I heard him groan.

"How the fuck do you deal with all that input?" He rubbed his temples "Fuck, you might actually be able to force me out with all that sensory clutter."

I stared at him wide-eyed.

"You mean it won't work?" I couldn't keep the relief out of my voice.

His face became a grimace. "I'll still be able to incapacitate you long enough to shank you, don't get too happy!"

I once more bowed my head "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

Then a idea formed in my head. It made me tremble with renewed fear, but I had to do it if I ever was to regain some of the trust I had squandered. With a heavy heart I began to clamp down on my power, to force myself to not feel my bugs. To just be Taylor, the girl that had been bullied at Winslow. When I was done I was shaking like a leaf.

Regent grinned at me.

"That's much better! Now be a good girl and stay that way!"

It didn't take long before I rose to my feet without my own volition.

"Now that that's done" my own mouth told me "let's see how to punish you!"

I felt the beginning of a tremor start up before it was viciously forced down. My hands began wandering over my body. Cupping my — non-existent — breasts, worming themselves under the band of my jeans.

"You know you can force me out!" my voice mocked me "But if you do you'll have broken our trust for the final time!"

To underline the statement I picked up a kitchen knife and gently pressed it's tip to my mouth's ceiling.

Then my hand fell away and I was able to move my head again. I started sobbing uncontrollably immediately.

"Do you understand?" Regent had used his own voice this time.

Unable to talk through my sobs I managed a hurried nod. Then I was his puppet completely once more. I observed myself walking into a small room, containing a small bed, a bucket and a lavatory.

"This" explained my voice "Is were we'll be keeping you from now on."

The door behind me fell shut and I could hear the lock being turned. Then my strings were cut and I collapsed into a shaking heap, crying to myself until I fell asleep on the floor.

The next morning had me rise without my input.

"Grue has decided to have some fun with you" I explained "It took me some time to convince him, but now he's all for it!"

Realisation dawned on me when I began disrobing. In my mind I screamed at regent, imploring him, to not have it be like this. But he didn't let me do it out loud, and so I stood in front of my prison door, naked as the day I was born when Brian and Regent opened it.

"Yeah, let's have her clean herself up first!" If I had been able I would have shivered under Brian's dispassionate stare. So my body stood and endured his appraisal impassively. Then it started walking to the bathroom. I was showered and shaved by my own hands, before being towelled down.

When I entered Brian's room he lay there, naked as I was.

"So tell me, how much of that crush on me you had was actually real?"

Tears started leaking down my cheeks. Then a sob alerted me to the fact that I had control of my head.

"All of it!" I meekly bowed my head "You know, I would let you... I would let you do this withou — Nah, where's the fun in that?"

Regent had retaken full control. This was how I would lose my virginity. To a man that might have loved me, in a different life, puppeted by a person I wished I still could call a friend.

My body got on its knees in front of Brian and began to bring him to an erection with an amount of skill I knew I never would have had. I felt every little thing, tasted Brian in my mouth, but I couldn't do anything myself. It was demeaning. Even more demeaning was Brian addressing my body with 'Alec' which drove home the heart-wrenching point that I did not matter, that I wasn't a part of what was happening right in front of me, in me.

When Brian erupted into my mouth Regent had me swallow it. Then he forced me to lower my head further down, rubbing my nose into his scrotum. When he opened my mouth I realised what he would have me do. Then my tongue made contact with Brian's anus. Against my will I started licking laboriously. Without Regents control I would have puked. It got worse when he forced my tongue into Brian's ass.

No sooner than when I had finally grown accustomed to the taste enough to not have my body gag, even through Regent's control, they had me get on all fours. My hands found my sex before spreading it's moisture around my pucker. I wouldn't even get to have normal sex for my first time.

It hurt. Brian didn't spare a thought for my inexperience, and Regent seemed to like my pain. The worst part was he made me like it, too. Soon my body was panting, shaking under the forceful impact of Brian's hips against my ass. When I felt him cum in me my arms gave out. I had no idea if it was Regent's doing or if he had released control over them. I couldn't move them either way.

The stench alerted me moments before Brian's dick smacked into my face, spreading my waste all over. "Clean it!"

Regent opened my mouth and the penis slid in. I could taste blood along with my waste. Regent meticulously cleaned Grue's dick. Then they had me lie back, legs spread wide.

The first thrust tore my hymen and battered my womb. Even Regent's control couldn't keep my body from crying out in pain. But Grue was relentless. And again Regent's perversion bled over into me and I began to wantonly moan at what should have had me shrieking in agony.

When it was finally over Grue discarded me and left, pussy filled with semen, unable to move, even though a few experimental twitches showed me Regent had released me. It was then I started crying. My friends, I realised, were gone. I had lost them, and I wouldn't get them back.

My life as a Cape ended as it had begun, with black widows. I still didn't want to betray them. But I would never let them do something like this to me again.


A New Experience



(автор: erasels)


So, this is a little slice-of-life piece where pre-Anette death Taylor and Emma spend some time together trying out Taylor's new hobby. Hypnotism. Hijinks ensue in the second chapter, this one is mostly buildup and characterization.



* * *


"And don't forget, Anette will be here in about an hour. No trying to doe-eye us into letting you stay longer!" Are the parting words that Mom says as Tay and I run up the stairs and into my bedroom.

It's sad that she can't stay longer today, I'm always so bored when it's only mom, dad and me. Since Anne just finished high school and is going to college soon, I don't see her quite as often. She even wants to move out when she joins a college, which sucks. I don't hesitate to share that thought with Taylor.

Sitting herself onto my bed and admiring the really nice shade of light blue my blankets have, she answers "It's not my fault that Mom and Dad want to go to a fancy restaurant! If it helps, it'll be super boring~ for me as well." She finishes with a pout. Pouting was one of her specialties, her mouth was pretty big so it stood out on her face.

I smile at the random thought, "Yeah that makes it much better, now I don't need to suffer alone. Anyways, no point in crying over spilled milk, what do you wanna do now?" Last time I got to decide so today it's her turn, braiding her hair last time was pretty fun though.

Grumbling a bit and taking on, what I call her thinker pose she takes her time to decide. Typical Taylor, always thinking things through, never being spontaneous.

I can see the exact time she decides on something, because her eyes light up and smacks her palms together. The latter has never failed to surprise me after long thinking-sessions.

"I found a book about hypnotism and it's really interesting." A smile stole itself across her face. "But Mom and Dad didn't have time to let me try it out on them, would you be my first Ems?" Ha! I let out a laugh as she says that. She looks at me confused for a second before making a great effort to look like a tomato.

"That's not what I meant. I mean. Would you be like the first person I can try this out on. The hypnotism I mean." Before she can continue to elaborate on the perfectly clear meaning of her first sentence, I interrupt her. "I know, I know, just joking. Geez, don't always get so worked up, it's just too easy to make you blush. You're just as bad as Trevor." Ahh yes, Trevor, Tay's crush. She should've told me about him, I would've loved to play matchmaker. But alas, she did not. She gave him a hug at closing ceremony and ran away, I think he was as surprised by that as I was.

That of course made her tomato impression even better, but she slowly began to frown. Need to stop before she gets angry or sad or anything else like that, Tay could only take a bit of teasing at the time. "Sure, you can try hypnotism on me. I'm pretty sure it's just like street magic, but if it doesn't work at all, I'll play along a bit." Because come one, hypnotism? Pah, as if stuff like that works, maybe if you had a master power.

Her face lights up at that, of course whenever I give her something to disprove she gets really competitive. "Cool! But don't play along, I need to know if I did right or not. Then, hmm. Then you should sit down on your bed, back against the wall and wrap your blanket around yourself. It's a great blanket by the way, I really like the colour. You need to be comfortable to relax after all."

I do as she says. Hopefully this won't be boring, but Tay can make everything interesting, well as long as it isn't school anyways. Wrapping the blanket around myself and leaning against the wall I tell her than I'm ready.



* * *


Making the motions as if to clear her throat, she starts talking in a soft, pretty deep tone "Hmm ok, first things first. No talking on your side, it's hard for me to talk like this for very long, it would be super hard to actually hold a conversation like this. Two, no wandering eyes, keep your eyes on me, preferable on my eyes, but I don't you'd manage that." She sticks out her tongue. Oh, it's on, I'll show her. "Three, just enjoy the experience, don't try to make fun of me and if it doesn't work you'll have enough time to do it after we're done. Ok, I think that's about it, let's start." As she says that, she takes out a red piece of fabric. It looks rather nice, with the way the light was reflected by it. She started playing around with it in her fingers... not that I was looking at them, I was totally looking at her eyes the whole time.

"Hypnotism is all about being relaxed and comfortable. Being able to relax can be hard sometimes, especially if you know that you'll be hypnotized, but there are ways around that. Like making the volunteer really comfortable by giving him or her a warm environment and giving him or her a comfortable way to sit or lie down." She's still using that soft voice, it's really nice to listen to. Didn't think she could speak like that, she actually had a pretty high voice normally. Not really getting sleepy or anything, but it's still kinda nice. I smile as I continue to look into her brown eyes.

"Ahh, you're enjoying it? That's good, you seem to be comfortable and warm. The thing about hypnotism is that it's not like the movies make it out to be. It's not like you have absolute control over someone that's hypnotized, being hypnotized is like being in a lucid dream. That's one of those dreams where you're kinda awake and know that it's a dream, so you can control it. Just that what you're doing is actually real. It's like going along with the flow." She continues to ramble on, typical Taylor. It's a little warm under my blanket, but no moving and all that. I hope she starts with the hypnotism soon, or her time will be up with all that rambling.

Sometimes my eyes go down to the blue silk she's playing with between her fingers. Wait... wasn't it red? Oh, there it is, she has two pieces of silk, blue and red. She's pretty fast with her fingers. Oh, I wanted to look into Taylor's eyes, not the silk, but it's pretty attention grabbing. I'll tell her after she's done.

"Sometimes you get asked to imagine something calming, like a nice smooth rock or something." Hmm, yeah, I'm imagining a smooth rock, will she try to hypnotize me now? "But I think that's just boring, you know? A smooth rock, if I want one, I'll just go to the bay and get one from one of the tourist traps." Damnit Taylor, I nearly chuckle as she continues to ramble on. This is kind of fun and relaxing. Just letting her ramble on, I guess hypnotizing will have to wait for another day.

"I think it would be a much better idea to think of a mountain or something, but that's just a big rock. But being on top of a mountain could be pretty relaxing, you know? If the sun shines bright, it'll be warm on top of it and if you could lie down on the soft grass you'd be pretty relaxed, especially after you made the long trek to get to the top." Yeah, that does actually sound pretty relaxing. Being on top of a mountain, so close to the sun that you can nearly grab it. I imagine the picture.

Lying on top of a mountain, just letting the nice smell of fresh grass accompany me. The sun being so near that I can't open my eyes, my skin becoming more tan by the second. Wonderful fresh air mixing in with the scent fresh grass and the little blades of grass tickling my face.

The red and blue swirls in the sun... My eyes were wandering again, I needed to look into Tay's eyes, I would show her that I could keep my eyes on hers.

Her eyes are a little lighter, because of the sun shining. The light shade of brown in her eyes looked a little like the earth beneath the grass that I would lie on top of.

I was humming a little, I shouldn't do that. Taylor told me not to speak, I'm pretty sure she meant not to make noise though. I tried to stop it, but it just felt right with the sun shining on us, me being so warm and comfortable.

Oh never mind, it was Tay humming, I guess she wants to relax her voice a little. She was rambling for some time, maybe she'll try to hypnotize me with the blue and red silk after she's done? I continue to listen to her humming.

Her eyes seem to soften even more, the earth was really relaxing to lie on. Or would be, the big palms that were on all sides, were a little nice to lean against. Oh, she was talking again, better listen. "I really like palm trees myself, but they don't normally grown on mountains. They grow on tropical beaches, with coconuts and all those nice things. I bet they could help with being relaxing, since they're so warm and their stems so comfortable, like cushions. Are cushions made out of palm trees? I wonder. That would sound relaxing." Yeah, they do feel kind of the same, I guess. The sun was very warm and the voice was very soothing.

I wonder what hypnot-hmmmm, huh. Was I humming again? Never mind, I wonder what hypnotishmm would be like. The humming was nice as well though. I guess hmmnotism would be relaxing as well, but listening to the voice rambling was nice. Maybe it would be blue and red? Like swirling waves that... that just are. Going left, becoming blue and red suddenly being on the right? Yeah, that sounds like hypnoshmm, ahh, I really like the humming.

"Hypnotism is quite interesting, but sometimes it's just nice to think about nothing and just relax. Relaxing is easier if you're warm and comfortable. Relaxing like the sun on your skin or the palm tree that you can lean against." Oh, I shouldn't... do something?

The earth was crinkling a little, the sky was getting wider, probably because the red and blue waves were pushing it and the sun was pretty, the earth inside it crinkling.

"Sometimes if you relax, you just fall asleep and dream. That's what happens when you relax." A voice that makes sense.

The sun is still there, the waves pushing it up.

Sleep makes me dream, dreams are nice.

The wind blows, back and forth, back and in. Out and in.

The humming goes along with the wind.


-?


"... nearly up." Huh, what?

Taylor sits in front of me, her smile is illuminated by the sun. "Hey, Mom is here, come down and say bye?"

Ahh, figures she spent the whole time rambling. Well, it was nice, I was pretty relaxed, maybe she could cut down on the rambling time and use that for trying to hypnotize me? As I stand up, I take care not to step on the blanket that's lying on the floor "Yeah, of course I'll say bye to Aunt Anette. Then we'll both suffer from boredom." The smile on my face feels right. It's sad that Tay couldn't stay longer.

I follow her down the stairs and see Mr Hebert talking with Dad about the sports game running on the TV. Mom and Aunt Anette are talking about the restaurant that they'll be going to. It's called Le Иveil, sounds pretty exclusive.

The conversation between the two stops as we get off the stairs, Tay of course sprinting towards Aunt Anette and hugging her. She's such a momma's girl. The smile never left my face.

"Hey, my little owl, are you ready to go?" Aunt Anette has a smooth voice, it sounds like the... Taylor's voice when she tried to hypnotize me. I need to yawn, it's pretty dark out already, the sun has pretty much set already.

As Taylor puts on her shoes and flattens out her clothes with help from Anette, I greet Mr Hebert.

The smile on his lips reminds me of the sun, a nice contrast to the black blazer he's wearing. "I'm doing just fine, thank you Emma. I hope you and Taylor had fun?" He stands up and gives Dad a `manly' hug and says his good byes to Mom as well.

"Yeah, it was nice. Tay tried to hypnotize me, but she mostly just rambled on about how hypnotism works, but it was relaxing." He smiles at me and then at Taylor, chuckling.

"Huh, need to work on that some more then, don't you kiddo." Taylor just smirks at me and says that nobody can be perfect at the first time. "That's correct, don't let one failure bother you. It's easier to learn from a failure, than from a success after all. You'll become my little hypnotist yet." Of course Aunt Anette would say that, she always tells us to try out new stuff and not be dis... sad about not getting it on the first try. Typical teacher.

I hug Tay before they leave. "We can try it again next time, if you want. You can ramble as much as you want." She just hums in agreement. I yawn again and scratch my nose, guess I'll go to sleep early today.

"See you Emma, bye Aunt Zoe, Uncle Alan!" Are Taylor's words of choice as she starts closing the door. Before the door fully closes she opens it a bit again and her head pokes through the creek. "Oh, that video you showed me on your phone was pretty cool, Ems! Thanks for letting me see it." With the she closes the door fully.

Huh, what video?

Guess, I'll go to bed now, I am pretty tired. "Tay's not a hypnotist yet, but she sure can make you sleepy when she rambles on. I'm going to bed a little early, goodnight Mom, Dad." Mom's hug is nice. She smells of her favorite perfume.

It has nothing on the giant bear hug Dad gives me, though. "Night my little star." Ahh yes, little star, he told me that he calls me that, because I'm one of the few bright spots in his life along with Mom, Sis and his friends. The pats on the back as I make my way to the stairs are nice as well.


-?


With teeth brushed and in my pajamas I sit on my bed. I wonder what video Tay meant. My phone sits there on my night stand, guess I'll take a look.

As I input my new code, I remember that I haven't told Taylor the new combination yet, would be embarrassing if I forgot and didn't have somebody else that knew.

Huh, what's that? A new video, 10 minutes long? When did I download that one? She probably meant this one then.

I press play and watch.


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(автор: Xicree)


Another day.

Another horrible grinding day in the life of Taylor Hebert.

And she was tired.

Not a simple kind of tired, no it was instead the bone deep weariness of a person on the edge, her body fine but her mind restless and horrified. She hadn't been sleeping well since it had happened, since her best friend in all the world had turned on her, had begun to user her... their... secrets against her. To think that she'd once pledged to be friends forever with the tyrant who now ruled over her every waking moment with a deep sense of dread simply brought greater hurt to her already walled off heart. Months of this hellish campaign had left her simply and unbearably tired. No others no friendships, nothing seemed to get though the brute screen erected between her and everything else. And every second within the school gave nothing but another potential second of this nightmare.

But at least today was different. Just a little bit.

This morning hadn't been terrible, not really. But that was because she'd been late, willing to take a small punishment from her homeroom teacher in order to avoid the sources of her troubles. She'd woken up same as normal, watching attentively the recent news as she dragged out on eating breakfast and waiting for her father to leave.

Yesterday, she'd managed to even go almost till lunch time without having to face them, only to find herself in another embarrassing confrontation with three again whom she could never seem to win. Along the way she'd been tripped, had her food spilled on the floor after only managing to eat half of it, called names, followed about and made to look like an idiot in front of every teacher possible.

She'd long stopped complaining about the indignities which each day bought.

Today however had been... relatively tame. But even in that she could not help but suffer their taunts their little minor cruelties, the snubbing by her peers, the way people looked at her in withdrawn pity. A full day without their antics and yet every moment was still filled with the echoes of their every act.

She knew, just knew, that she could not continue to this, not the way in which they ground her down every chance they got, not the constant taunts and insults which could not be responded to for fear of escalation, not the way that everyone either joined in or looked away leaving her to fend for herself while being ganged up on. Her tormentors finding every possible way in which they could crush her spirit, kick her while down, and smash every aspect of her life which meant anything at all to her.

The best of friends, she'd learned, made the most poisonous of enemies.

No, this was not an existence which could be tolerated. But it could be endured... until it would not be any more.

"Hebert!"

She couldn't help the cold dread which came with the sound of her own name, its cadence sickly sweet upon familiar lips. Her shoulders slumped but she refused to turn around, even as she continued with every plodding step; an attempt to get away from the source of her misery. The young girl tensed, even as one strong arm snaked its way around her shoulder leaving her gripped in its loose grip. The dark skin of that bare arm rippled beneath the evening light with distinctive musculature.

Of course they couldn't just leave her alone for an entire day, the bitter thought bit her.

She tried hard not to look up at the face which she knew would be to the side of her, the girl whose arm was around her restricting her motions and now guiding her onward.

"You know when someone calls you out you should at least say something, Taylor." The voice to the other side of her cheerfully piped up; a sidelong glance revealing the cute little brunette whom it came from. "Don't be so rude Taytay. It's not like we aren't your best of friends now isn't it."

"She's just a little tired. She never did have much stamina when we were kids together." The voice just behind her came again. Sweet and familiar like poisoned sugar.

Surrounded. Trapped. It took everything inside of her not to simply react by trying to break out into a full on sprint.

Useless... Sophia was faster.

"You know Hebert," The dark girl who trapped her close spoke up. "We've been thinking for a bit, I know, not really your thing but bear with us a sec. We've got a little event going on soon; you weren't exactly on the top of our list to be invited. But we had a little talk between us. A bit of a heart to heart. Emma here wants to forgive you."

A horrible pit in her stomach formed, a cold irrational anger mixed with longing and surprise.

"Forgive... me?" She asked incredulously.

"Yep, all your loserness will be forgiven. I mean it's not like we expect much out of a dumb cunt like you, but ya know sometimes it's just time to bury the hatchet and look for what's best in life." Madison, that poisonous little bitch beside her spoke cheerfully, her toxic tongue at ease with every poisoned word as she gave the put upon girl a sly grin and a sideward's glance.

Taylor nearly choked on her tongue spluttering at the backhanded words.

Two arms sneaked their way around her slender waist, embracing her close in a manner which was heartbreakingly familiar. And from behind her Emma's voice drifted like violence upon tender flesh.

"I miss you Taytay... if you weren't such fucking garbage now you could have been something special." She cooed, caressing her former `best' friend's stomach with light sensual strokes, the heat of her breath brushing against Taylor's ear as her lips poured more poison inside. "I remember back before your mommy died, before you turned into this... limp dick waiting to get fucked. I remember that what we used to be together..."

Taylor's head swam in confused sensations as her mind bounced from side to side, nausea at the edge of her throat and mind chasing every terrible word. Again and again she reached for words, words which would ward off these jackals, nipping at her feet; words to fight fire with fire against the three as they gang raped her self-esteem.

But nothing would reach past the edge of her tongue.

"She's fucking shaking like a leaf." Sophia laughed beside her, arm squeezing just a little bit tighter, her teeth gleaming wide with the horrible smile. "What Hebert, cat got your tongue? You gonna pussy out on this way out too or you just too stupid to know when a good thing comes your way?"

"Oh don't be so harsh Sophia. We've been on her ass the entire time." Emma added, one hand sliding from Taylor's stomach to lightly caress her ass, before rising up then landing a sharp blow against it.

Taylor jumped; the invasion of her space too much to bear as her hand shook and balled.

Only to have the smaller Madison grab her fist in light restraint.

"Now, now Taylor. Let's not make a scene. Or do you want to start something and get your ass kicked in front of everyone." The cute little adder cooed sweetly. "We spent the whole night talking about you..." her cute features fell into a frown. "All about you. Emma's still obsessed."

"Oh shut it..." Taylor could hear a light note of... something in Emma's voice, sudden and vicious. "... Look let's not get side-tracked. Taytay honeybear, I've got an offer for you like you wouldn't believe. No more days of being the lowest on the totem pole, no more of us snickering about your flat ass and washboard chest in front your face or behind your back. In fact, we'll even go so far as to let you hang out with us if you want to."

Sophia snorted halfheartedly, clearly not particularly into that part of the idea.

All at once it somehow made the entire situation just a bit more real for the tall girl they'd entrapped, eyes widening slightly at the very thought that they weren't all equally in on whatever was driving this desire for concession. Whatever horrible trick it was that they were playing wasn't completely out of a shared playbook. That alone gave a brief glimmer of hope, which sold this avenue of attack as something more than just false hope.

"Why?" Taylor's voice reasserted itself, venturing to question her `good' fortune. Her feet still trod on, and the three followed suit, content to simply entrap her in a straight line rather than control her. "Why even bother... I just want you to leave me alone."

Tears leaked from her eyes, salt and stinging as they welled.

Her balled fist fell limp.

"I decided that I had just been horrible to you." Emma spoke, an unseen nod towards Sophia going unnoticed. Her breath tickled her former best friend's neck, her touch brought a discomforted shifting. "And now... now I've decided because I have the power to decide, that you can be my friend again. I'm going to make you work your way back up into being worth my time. Think about it Taytay... The offer won't last long, and if you though today was nice, well I'll be sure that you get more days like it."

Then she let go. Emma's arms unwrapped themselves from around Taylor's vulnerable body, pulling back from her victim's reach.

The trio stopped. The edge of the safer areas of the neighborhood reached, the rest of the way would be to Taylor's own home in the docks. The three exchanged looks, and nodded as they parted, Sophia's arm pulling away as Madison let go of the other hand, no longer balled in a fist.

"So. Here we are." Emma spoke to her once friend's back. "This is where you get to choose. And you know what I'm going to pledge this to be a real choice. You can walk away from us. You can go as far as you like, and you can keep going. Thing is, any time you come back, we'll make it worse. Everything you thought you had bad, we'll find a way to step it up and make it worse. Maybe some things happen... bad things can happen at any time. You know how it is."

Taylor stood silent; her back still turned. But her feet had stopped moving already.

Tears still dripped, splashing down upon the otherwise dry street.

"But... you turn around and come with us on your own accord, and every day for one or at most two hours you do what we say when we say it and how we say it, where we say it. You come with us every day after school for that short time. You give yourself to me for that time." Taylor turned to see her speak, Emma her tormentor, her torturer, her friend long lost. Emma and her brilliant red hair, her supermodel beauty which far eclipsed her own talking as if Taylor still were her very closest friend. "And your life will take a sharp turn for the better. Come on Taytay... submit to me."

The girl could look bloody angelic with blood running down her fingertips, Taylor thought even as Emma smiled and put her hand outstretched to receive her.

A hand Taylor could not help but feel tempted to smack away, dam the consequences.

A hand which offered everything Taylor wanted now. Right now.

A way out of this nightmare.

Taylor tensed.

Her hand reached out with a tentative motion.

Acceptance was reached.

A savage salvation like the worst of damnation.

She walked with them and followed meekly along, a lamb to the slaughterhouse.

She walked behind.



* * *


"Ok... you have me, whatever you want me to do. One hour." Taylor's voice all but croaked, trying hard to sound tougher than she knew herself to be. Surrounded by three, one of whom could definitely subdue her on her own. They'd led here. Madison's house she'd learn later, a haven for the three. With Madison's mother away more often than not, it was a place which they more or less had to themselves. Madison's room was as pink as she'd imagined.

She waited nervously for the other shoe to drop.

It was brief, but for a moment she could swear she saw a look of heavy discomfort painted upon her once best friend's face, her pretty painted lip folded in as her eyes darted about to the other two whom had joined in this venture, the confidence in her own actions strained. But only for a moment, her eyes settling briefly upon the dark skinned beauty as she leaned back and simply watched carefully, then flickered over to the cute brunette as she lounged in her seat, trying not to appear quite as nervous as she really was.

Taylor could practically smell the shift in attitude, almost as if it were a bunch of children and they'd just managed to get a toy they'd been longing for, only to realize they had no clue what the really wanted to do with it. Her breath quickened looking around, because if they didn't know what to do next... it meant that almost anything could be coming.

Taylor could do little more than hold her breath, the anticipation was killing her.

And then she could see it, the moment that Emma decided, the cold press of her peer's expectations driving her forward despite the blatant uncertainty which had just filled the last few moments. The redhead's eyes narrowed as a smile forced itself across her face.

"Alright. Taylor... you're ours for the next hour. So you'll be proving your obedience, let's start with a test." The smile didn't quite reach her beautiful eyes, but none the less it flashed with dangerous intent. "Strip."

"Wait... what?" Ok, Tayler hadn't known what to expect but this hadn't been it. Even if she intrinsically understood why within moments of thinking about it.

"You heard me Taylor, I know you're not quite as stupid as you like to pretend even if you're not all that bright. Strip, take off all your clothes, every last stitch. You're not allowed any during our evenings anymore. You'll have to earn that privilege back." Emma spoke imperiously, her razor smile no longer wavering as her eyes hardened implicitly. Taylor remembered the girl she'd been best friends with, remembered how she could become an impenetrable wall in any argument where she'd made up her mind. She'd clearly here just made up her mind. "Now be quick about it or leave... and we'll just pick back up tomorrow where yesterday left off."

The threat loomed in the air leaving the moment tense and breathless. Second after second ticked by as the crushing weight of consideration closed in on the cornered youth, her mind racing between blank fear and implicit understanding. Her imagination filling in the blanks of how much worse it could all get.

Taylors hand slipped down, gripping the edge of the dowdy sweater which she'd been wearing, to hide her stick figure body and maybe attract just a bit less attention from everyone. Her nervous shaking did not go unnoted as her hands lifted as if struggling with the greatest burden she'd ever been made to carry.

Sophia leaned forward, her predatory eyes crinkling at the corners as she watched with hawkish anticipation. Not at Taylor's body, but instead at her face, at the way in which her eyes cast down to avoid contact, at the way in which the act of heaving the sweater off of her thin frail body left the tracks of brilliant red printed across her face.

Taylor felt as if trapped with a leopard stalking her every step.

The light shirt underneath the sweater came next, peeled off with the light layer of sweat which came with wearing heavier clothing any time that wasn't winter, her stomach and upper body exposed as she continued to strip.

"Wow, you really need to start working out." Madison piped up from the corner couch in which she sat, kicking up her legs into the air like a child with too much energy. "I mean really girl, a stomach as fat as that, I'd have taken you for pregnant if I didn't know that no boy would touch you. Well unless it's your dad... I suppose that would explain some things."

An angry defiant glare began to form as the poisoned words settled in, only to be cut off mid formation.

"Don't forget why you're here, tomorrow can always be a lot worse." Emma spoke in low tones, her voice like cold water over Taylor's yet unformed expression, leaving the anger to wash once more away, replaced with a quiet desperation as Emma harshly reasserted her dire command. "Strip Taylor. You're not done yet."

Quiet dominated the space for the moments to come, her breaths quickening as her fingers slid between skin and material, pulling down the jeans she'd worn, leaving her legs now bare.

"You know... a little running and you could actually have nice legs. You'd still look like a boy, but you'd have pretty good legs." Emma complimented backhandedly as she examined Taylor with a critical eye. "The rest of it, don't get shy now. You don't get to be shy unless we tell you to be. But if you don't feel you can do it... just tell yourself it's only for an hour or two. An hour or two to pay for every day that won't suck from now on, an hour or two of setting aside what little dignity and self-worth you have for the bigger prize. Just think of how much better it will be... and how much worse it could be."

Beside her the other girls shifted, Madison fidgeted more, her eyes cast away. Sophia's gaze had shifted, now looking upon Emma as if seeing her with fresh eyes, eyes which devoured what they saw with gusto.

Taylor's eyes squeezed shut, tears trickling down as she removed the last vestiges of dignity from her body, rendered now naked before her oppressors.

"Ugg... was this really a good idea?" Madison complained and made a disgusted face, jumping back into her own bed as she did. "She's not really all that much to look at naked."

"She'd never make much of girl to be honest, scraggly and skinny in the wrong places... fat and saggy in the rest. But I guess we can just pretend that she's a passable boy instead of an ugly girl instead. She's got the figure for it." Emma tilted her head, tapping her lip as she smiled cruelly at her own suggestion.

A hitched breath came from Taylor's lips, the oppressive situation pushing her further than she could have ever believed. Naked and insulted in every which way as she stood there bare naked before them.

"Either way, even if she'd not much to look at now, that can be fixed." Emma spoke, her voice heady with the power which she held. "A little exercise, some make up and she'd actually start looking like a person. Do you want me to do that for you Taylor? Make you a real girl?"

A cold chill settled within the pit of her stomach as Taylor stared, the light breeze of Madison's AC unit causing her skin to prickle and drying her tears into crystal streaks of salt upon her sallow cheeks.

"Well Taylor? When I ask you something I expect an answer. Well, you can always just pick up your clothes and leave if you don't want to anymore. We won't stop you." Emma spoke once more, imperious as she could manage, a thin smile stretched across her lips. The threat of `Or Else' hung over the conversation like a guillotine.

Taylor knew all too well the words now not said.

"... I... I would like that." Taylor forced though her teeth, hoping she sounded sufficiently cowed.

"I would like that, Mistress." Emma echoed after, intent to dominate clear, drunk upon the flavor of victimization.

"I would like that... Mistress." Taylor repeated, listless and cracked. Her shame painted in a crimson flush across her exposed skin.

All though out the exchange so far Sophia had been silent, her watchful eyes examining everything, ever moment ever movement of both victim and victor. Lounging for the most part like a satisfied kitten as the dark, amused, almost smile lingered upon her lips. It was a surprise when finally she spoke.

"You know." Her words were breathy and slow, each one paced to draw out the moment, a cat playing with it's soon to be kill. "I've never really wanted a pet before. But this has almost convinced me that one might be pretty nice to keep. A cute little bitch at our beck and call."

Taylor blushed with horror as she realized the implication.

"Now, now Sophia... pets can be nice. But you can only play with one in so many ways." Emma spoke again, her authoritative words almost a lifeline for the beset young woman. Slowly the beautiful red head pulled back onto her seat, Madison's computer chair, like a queen in her throne before lifting one leg up into the air with a singularly slow and sensuous motion. Then with said stocking clad extremity, she beckoned the other girl forth. "Can a pet undress you on just a whim?"

The very question was itself just as much an order absolute.

Taylor could hardly breathe, her eyes widening with something between incredulity and a strange almost toxic strain of gratefulness. Somehow the notion of being Sophia's `Pet' terrified her in ways which she'd not been able to name, and though demeaning, the out which she was being offered here and now at least left a trace of her humanity intact.

She barely hesitate a few precious seconds before finally reaching forth to rest her fingers gently upon her once closest friend's lightly clad leg. A few tugs initially would teach her the `give' of the material, as she worked with care and deliberation, absolutely certain that something terrible would be on the horizon she were to ruin the soft stocking.

It came surprisingly swiftly off of Emma's leg, rolling neatly into a single bundle.

"See Sophia." Emma beamed, clearly having won her own bout of that gambit, whatever winning really meant between them. "Not a pet at all. Kiss it Taylor, kiss it like a lover."

Taylor could not help the way in which she shook... a dry sob convulsing though her chest.

Too much... too much she knew it would lead to more.

To worse.

"Then you can leave." The bloody bitch spoke, cracking Taylor once more from her reverie. "We've wasted enough time in here as it is, only another thirty minutes to go too. Such a waste."

Taylor blanched.

The very thought of enduring more now at war like fever over the idea of the never ending stream of horrible tomorrows which unfolded before her eyes. Once again she had a choice.

Once again she chose to bow her head.

Half an hour more, one hour of this hell a day to avoid it all the other times. One hour's trade.

She kissed the outstretched foot, perfectly manicured, with nails red like spilled blood. A light careful peck of a kiss, no commitment despite what she understood of the intent.

"Like a lover my dear, and put some tongue into it. Suck and lick." Emma's smile was absolute in its fervor, soaking in Taylor's submission like a sunflower to sunshine. "Make me believe you want to be here, with me."

Cold hollow defeat was all that Taylor could feel as she lifted the foot to her face once more, leaning down to give gentle clumsy kisses, bumping her nose into Emma's toes as she tried to comply with her order without committing to it.

"Hmm. I understand." Emma spoke suddenly, pulling her foot down and away from the naked girl before her, plain disdain printed upon her face. "If you don't want to follow orders, then get to the door. I'll see you tomorrow."

Taylor's eyes opened wide in shock, spiraling emotion buckled though her churning her stomach unpleasantly.

The manipulation here was clear, but she could do naught about it, merely fight or follow.

"Please..." her voice cracked slightly. "Please don't take your foot away."

Emma looked down upon her as if weighing her worth before finally relenting, her foot raised up once more. "One more chance. You get one more chance before I just get up and walk away. And everything that happened this evening so far ends up meaning nothing at all. You obey, you obey immediately and without question. Or else..."

Emma stuck out her foot just a bit further.

Not a single word more passed between them as Taylor this time put her all into the duty which she'd been given. Tongue traced lightly across the supple skin, leaving wet trails as Taylor tried desperately to impress. Her thin lips wrapped lightly about the small second toe clumsily, as her tongue wrapped lightly around it, slathering it in saliva while lightly she began to suckle at the digit.

Slowly she continued, throwing herself into the task like a woman possessed, her sensual licks and suckling began to take their toll upon Emma's otherwise iron composure. Her breaths coming faster as she licked her suddenly dry lips in anticipation of more.

Madison could not help it as she fidgeted, worried off to the side. Red in the face as she watched.

This was already out of control and way beyond the scope of what they'd last night discussed. And yet here in her room, Emma looked like a goddess, darkly sensual as she ordered her slave, her playtoy, her pet to heel, to kiss her feet and obey without any enforcement beyond the promise of retribution.

Moisture gathered between the legs of more than one person within the room.

Taylor paid no mind to the hot wet scent which now came from Emma as she worked upon the offered foot, concentrating only on that blistering now.

"Strange... better than I expected." Emma coughed lightly, trying hard not to show just how much she'd been enjoying the sensual display upon her own tender flesh.

"I suppose if you find that kind of thing sexy." Sophia dismissed, yet her eyes lingered upon the ongoing sight.

For once Madison said nothing.

"Well, you know Sophia... you don't need to find it sexy to enjoy it." Emma grinned, the evidence of wicked thoughts flashed upon the look which she passed to Sophia at a glance. "Come on Sophia, live a little. It's not every day you've got a little slave bitch scratch your itches for you."

A level stare passed between the dark athlete and her friend. "I'm not gay."

"Neither am I. I don't find Taylor attractive at all." She pulled her foot back from Taylor's mouth with a loud *Plop*. "But you don't need to be gay to enjoy making someone submit."

Taylor could do not but look down in shame.

"And you don't need to be gay to enjoy getting your pussy licked either." Emma grinned, looking directly at her once best friend and leveling a meaningful gaze. "You know what Taylor. I'll give you a choice. Between the three of us whose cunt would you like to lick the most?"

The question was as cruel as it's implication, but Taylor dared not hesitate... dared not to not choose. "... sophia..."

"Speak up. Don't mumble when you answer, I when I want your opinion I want it. Do not dare try to hide it from me." Emma warned with a harsh smile, knowing full well what Taylor'd said, licking her lips in anticipation.

"Sophia." She spoke up louder, the full body blush glowing brighter even as the tears in her eyes glistened within the light of the all too pink abode. "I want to lick Sophia."

The words curdled her stomach. Disgust, self-hatred, fear, and a hellish thread of lust all flowed within her, all settled at the pit of her stomach as she shivered once more. But even then it was a choice made in full cognizance. A choice for the future. She could only hope that she'd chosen correctly as she allied herself here with her most physical of tormentors. The girl of whom she could best rely upon if things went sour within the group. The one who was least likely to do the things which would really hurt... Taylor knew she could take a little pain.

Giving Sophia the lead here could be painful in the short term, but in the long run it'd keep the rest just one less step away from simply tearing her down. God... Taylor wished that it was over already, no clock to tell the time she could only hope it would be soon done.

...soon done.

Soon done...

She looked up from the floor towards Sophia, the dark girl standing tall and strong before her, body built like a brick. Lean, solid and muscular in ways which made her every motion emphatic.

"So you wanna eat me out huh? Been dreaming of licking me off." Sophia sneered, her presence looming above Taylor as she knelt where she'd been left, never having risen since suckling upon Emma's toes. Suddenly strong fingers gripped her hair, digging hard into her scalp as her face was turned up to meet the gaze of something predatory and wild. "Stick out your tongue."

Taylor moaned piteously even as she complied with the order given, her tongue reaching outward slipper with saliva. Sophia's free hand caressed the extended organ, fingers trailing with a surprising gentleness across its surface before finally settling upon its tip, it took a moment but Taylor could feel the strong girl's grip upon it settle in like a vice, pulling hard upon the oral organ until it would give no more.

Tears formed within Taylor's eyes, but she endured. This was Sophia, and once again she told herself, she could take a little pain.

Sophia let go, wiping her saliva soiled fingers in Taylor's wild tangle of hair.

"You're going to have to get my pants down if you want this treat." Sophia grinned, the cruelty in her eyes and voice apparent. Taylor reached up, her hands trembling at the thought of what came next, only to have them batted away. "Your mouth. Figure it out and make it happen."

Taylor could do nothing but nod beneath the hand which still gripped her hair, as clumsily she began her fumbling journey into loosening the tight blue jeans which adorned Sophia's muscular ass, teeth tugging and pulling first at the zip, then with limited success at the button, tongue and lips having only slightly more as Taylor slowly pried it all loose.

Though out the ordeal Sophia stayed patient, standing tall as Taylor continued her work.

The button popped loose.

"Oh looks like she's got some hidden talents." Madison chimed in, her voice thick and her breath heavy as she sat bundled under the sheets of her bed. One hand was missing from above. "Maybe she does get lots of `Relative' practice."

Emma snickered lightly at the joke, but didn't bother to answer. Her eyes too glued to the scene before her.

Light bites and nibbles would tug at the Athletic girl's pants, pulling it downward inch by inch until it bunched below her knees, the feminine scent of her sweat laced, well worn, practical black underwear hit the beset girl right in the nose. Sophia could feel her sudden hesitation, instead opting to push Taylor forward, nose first against her crotch.

"Panties aren't going to come off by themselves." Sophia taunted, even as she pulled hard once more upon Taylor's hair.

"Not really much of panties there Sophy." Emma tossed out teasingly, still enthralled in the performance despite her words.

"Fuck off Em... briefs are the best for track. They're comfortable." The girl's sudden indignant look came a surprise to Taylor, but ultimately not one which could do anything for her current state of being as Sophia continued to tug and pull at the fabric with her teeth, a process which was slow, clumsy, and demeaning.

But she couldn't really feel much more demeaned right now.

Eventually the boyish panties would come all the way down and before her Sophia's vaginal lips opened engorged with all their glory, the strong scent of her womanhood dominating all of Taylor's senses as Sophia literally began to rub Taylor's nose in the cleft of her crotch.

Sophia's pussy was wild, heavily grown hairs stood wet and glistening with the moisture of her inner labia, juices now smeared all across Taylor's nose. And while her Sophia's wet cunt was hairier than she'd expected, it was at least trimmed enough that it wouldn't spill past her choice of underwear, and was even unevenly cropped in some places, just enough that some of the hairs tickled Taylor's nose, while others pricked her from their short sharpness, almost as if the girl had merely taken a convenient scissors to her nethers without care for the look of the end result.

Taylor could not help but sputter at the thick cloying smell of Woman which now coated her upper lip, spreading within her nostrils as she was forced forward inexorably.

"What are you waiting for?" Annoyance and a hard yank bought Taylor back to the now... to the problem of the now involving her tongue. "Eat me good. You fucking chose me so get me off. You're going to stay there till you do."

Taylor could only shake her head in the affirmative as she began her bitter work.

Slow, languid licks began the process. Each one lavishing long lashings of her tongue upon the outer edges, starting each lick from the bottom to the top before playing lightly with the slowly peeking hood of Sophia's clit as Taylor accustomed herself to the lightly bitter taste.

Methodical, and eager to have it over with, Taylor began to work her way inward, licking faster and faster as she covered the surface with girly cum slathered kisses as the dark edges of Sophia's eager cunt fluttered and spasmed with unconstrained delight.

Breath was hard to come by, barely allowed with every successful attack, as Taylor continued to dive in, hands rested upon Sophia's knees as she tried her hardest to make the girl orgasm. Slowly, and clumsily Taylor licked, her tongue working in an out Sophia's ever more sopping cunt, her wetness soaking and covering Taylor's face and hair as pussy juice got everywhere, streaked upon the victim's face.

Sophia's grip tightened and loosed as she Taylor continued, discovering with intimate detail all of Sophia's most sensitive spots until the moment that finally her tongue met the now erect nub of clitoral flesh which stood tall and proud before her.

Electricity coursed through Sophia's body as Taylor's hot wet mouth wrapped about it, lips sealed as she started to suckle, soft then harder, until Sophia squeezed down, letting Taylor know with her finger tips when she finally gone too far. Until finally all of her efforts begun to come together as Sophia came explosively upon Taylor's face.

Her breath came out in ragged puffs as she finally came down from riding the multiple orgasms which Taylor's frantic suckling had nurtured from the tough girl whom she'd pleasured.

It would take a few minutes for Sophia to finally come down from her high of Bliss, her fingers still pressing Taylor's face directly into her twitching pussy until finally she let go her vice grip upon the nude girl's luxuriant hair. Beside them, the other two still watched on in a frozen awe, fingers working between their own legs as they pleasured themselves to peak at the sight which they'd been offered.

It was left like that for a few more moments, before finally Sophia broke the silence. "Wow... You know you're a fucking awesome Rug-muncher." She grinned nastily as she wiped the streaks of her own juices out though Taylor's hair, tilting the girl's face up as if considering something. "You know you eat pussy like you were born knowing how."

Sophia spoke, then with a singular impulse, pulled Taylor up to her feet from her knees letting her hands settle upon Taylor's ass rubbing against the smooth curve of her slightly overweight yet gangly body. Without warning Sophia attacked, her lips pressed hard against Taylor's in an invasive kiss, tongue curling in against the besieged girl's as she tasted her own essence upon the twirling tongue.

By the time she was done, Taylor had been left literally breathless, confused, and dazed.

"You made it." Emma spoke, her voice cheerful while hiding... something else. "You're though your first hour. You earned your tomorrow. But don't forget... you have to earn the next one... and the next."

Madison, stayed silent, still nestled in her bed... fingers buried inside herself as she jilled off to what they'd just done.

Taylor nodded, unable to trust her own voice as she picked up her clothing, directed surprisingly kindly to the bath by Sophia. Emma even turned on the charm, acting almost as if nothing had ever happened between them. As if the months of bullying, the hateful everything... the use of her own secrets against her... were nothing but bad air, cleared now by the sun.

Not once after the session was over had they insulted, or in any way denigrated her. Not once...

It frankly had begun to creep her out even more about the entire affair.

But it was a done deal...

The next day, they kept the promises which to they'd made.

Things were definitely better... yet... Taylor couldn't quite tell if was still worth the price.


Monster Girls of Brockton Bay



(автор: Metallix666)


Landing on the roof, I snapped her wings closed and glanced around warily, my tail twitching in anticipation.

We were in the eastern side of the city, in a warehouse district close to the docks. Lung had been spotted doing his `terrible fire lizard' impression in the area and I was in no hurry to meet him again. For one thing, PHO had practically exploded with joy the last time.

Ugh, idiots.

Emma landed gently behind me, tucking her wings in close and white hair fluttering in the breeze.

"You think he's gone?" her voice quiet in an attempt to go unheard. Not that it mattered Lung had enhanced senses, if he was nearby, he would have already heard me land.

"Yeah, I think so. Where's the PRT? They normally come running if anyone so much as mentions Lung." I was mostly thinking outloud to myself. Closing my eyes, I let the night air wash over me.

"Zombie outbreak on the boardwalk. Sounds like Uber and Leet to me,"

I hummed in agreement even as most of my attention was devoted to what my senses were telling me. The air was thick with the smell of blood and burned flesh. People had died here tonight. Some small part of me reveled in it, but I pushed it to one side. Focusing on the blood, I followed the smell back to it source.

As I ran across the roof, my clawed feet dug deep into the buildings, propelling me along and I used my wings to glide across the gaps between buildings, with Emma following close behind.

I Skidded to a stop on a roof overlooking an access road. It was probably intended to allow deliveries to the warehouses that walled it on either side. Both buildings looked like they had long been abandoned and a half melted wall of ice blocked one end of the road.

Looking down, my stomach churned at the carnage below.

Two large, monster like creatures were in the middle of the clearing, burned through. Not far from them, was the smoldering remains of a girl in fur lined jacket. To her right, was a thin boy with the crushed remains of a scepter driven through his torso.

There were some other bodies nearby, but they had been burned beyond recognition.

"Oh god!" Emma muttered, putting a hand over her mouth at the sight. "Is that?"

"Yeah, the Undersiders." I said tonelessly.

They were a small time group, specialising in hit and run jobs. Emma and I had run into them a couple of times, from what her power said, they weren't much older than us.

I couldn't imagine what they had done to piss Lung off this badly. For him to make an example of them like this, it had to have been bad.

"I— I'll call it in," Emma offered, but I quickly waved her into silence. I could hear something.

My ear fins twitched as I focused on the faint sounds of breathing nearby. It was weak and bubbling but someone was still alive!

"Lilim, over here!" I as I ran towards one of the warehouses. There was a small door, almost hidden in the shadows that someone had forced open and, from the bloody trail, dragged themselves through.

Inside, the warehouse was pitch black. The windows had been boarded up long ago, probably to keep squatters out and the power cut. Not that that the darkness bothered me any, Emma and I could see just fine in the dark.

Following the blood and sounds of breathing, we found Grue slumped against the far wall. His helmet was smashed open and his face burned on one side. A blood smeared cell phone lay on the ground with a half dialed number on the screen.

Tattletale was there as well, sprawled out across his lap. Her wounds, if possible, were even worse than his.

Most of her hair was gone, there was a handprint burned into her abdomen and several bullet wounds in her chest.

I wasn't sure how she was still alive, but I didn't think she'd last much longer.

Kneeling down, I reached out to placed a hand on Grue's shoulder. Behind me, I could hear Emma calling for an ambulance.

"D-don't bother," Tattletale wheezed, blood bubbling through her lips. "Blood loss. N-needs ambulance. P-please!"

I gently, placed my hand on her unburned cheek, being careful not to cut her with my claws. This wasn't the first time I'd watched someone die, but that didn't make it easier.

"Shh," I said softly, "it's alright, helps coming. You're going to be fine." I was lying, but no one deserved to die like this.

"B-Bullshit!" Tattletale gasped, and her lips twitched into a brief smirk, "but... thanks."

"Ambulance is five minutes out," Emma whispered to me and sitting on her hunches.

It wasn't going to be fast enough. Next to me, Emma bit her lip in indecision. We'd spoken about this in the past, about what she could do, but could never come to a decision. Eventually, she shot me a pleading look.

"Fine," I sighed, "do what you want."

Leaning forward, Emma took Tattletales hand.

"Lisa... Lisa, can you hear me?" I frowned at Emma's use of the girls name but didn't say anything.

"Yes," Lisa, mumbled.

"It's Emma. Remember me? Do you remember what I can do? I can save you, but it has to be your choice, I need to hear you say it!"

With a shuddering gasp, Lisa forced her eyes open and focused on Emma. "I— I won't... be his pet... d— Do it!"

Darting forward, Emma pressed her lips against Lisa's and I quickly took a step back. I'd only ever seen Emma do this once before and that was to me.

A soft glow began to spread across Lisa's body, starting at her head and working its way down. The colour quickly returned to her cheeks and one of her hands lifted up to cup Emma's face, even as both girls started to moan.

The burns on Lisa's face and arms faded quickly as her skin healed, then paled slightly, looking almost like porcelain. The skin tight bodysuit she wore only served to make the next set of changes more obvious.

As Lisa's moans became more desperate, her body began to change. Faint traces of muscle could be see developing on her arms and abdomen. Her legs thicken slightly as her ass filled out, giving her a much more defined waist. Further up, her breasts began to swell, distorting the faint image on the front of her costume. Her larger, erect, nipples standing out clearly. I guessed she was now bigger than Emma, but smaller than me.

Blonde hair flowed from her head as it quickly regrew and a pair of large, fox like ears emerged from the top of her head.

With another moan, Lisa's hips bucked and a faint tearing sound came from the back of her costume. Nine, large tails quickly emerged, wrapping around the pair and pulling them closer, even as Lisa's body trembled from the release that followed the completed transformation.

After watching the pair of them, I wanted nothing more that to crawl over there and claim them both. But this really wasn't the time. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm myself down. I regretted it immediately as the air was filled with the scent of their arousal.

Thankfully, Lisa solved the problem by passing out from exhaustion.

"I... I don't remember it feeling that good," I muttered to Emma, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"I think," Emma a blushing said, straightening her own costume and taking deep breaths, "I think we were simply too young at the time. Lets face it, I had to teach you how to get off."

Forcing down my own blush, I focused on the situation at hand.

"Now what? If the PRT see's her, they are going to know something's up." We'd always been careful to hide the full extent of Emma's abilities. Trumps were rare and the only one's who came close to matching her were not nice people.

"You should take her back to your place. You're stronger than me and can carry her while flying, I can't. She's going to wake up horny and confused, you can help with both." Emma shot me a saucy wink, darkening my blush.

"I'll stay here and deal with the PRT."

Nodding in agreement, I knelt down and picked up Lisa who had wrapped her tails around herself. I wasn't sure if that was instinct or something, but it made carrying her easier so I wasn't going to complain.

I knew I could trust Emma, but I still didn't like leaving her behind. The fact was however, she had always been a much better liar than me and her power only enhanced that.

Outside, I jumped straight up, my powerful legs propelling me above the rooftops. Spreading my wings just as I reached the apex of my jump, I turned and flew towards home.

"Welcome to the team Lisa," I muttered to myself as I flew.


Shipper in Orbit



(автор: gna)


Sophia was striding down the hall. She had to get to the bottom of this. In the beginning she had been hoping the shower incident had just been a freak accident. Even now the people still were talking about 'the two dykes going at it in the school showers' and it pissed her off. Then of course Hebert's head had somehow ended up inside her shirt, directly between her breasts, when she pushed her last week. And yesterday her hands had ended up inside Hebert's pants somehow.

"Hebert!" she called out. The girl in question was just turning around to face her, an expression of panicked apprehension on her face, when she felt her foot skid forwards uncontrollably. Desperately trying to maintain balance she felt her hand contact Hebert's skin. Then she came to a halt. This couldn't be coincidence, she decided. She was pressed up against Hebert, their lips literally mashed together, and because she had caught herself against the locker with her hand tangled inside Hebert's hoodie and shirt the garments were riding up, giving the leering crowd a nice view of Hebert's near nonexistent under-boob. Of course she wouldn't wear a bra, it wasn't like she had much it would support.

She carefully extricated her from the compromising position, shaking in poorly contained rage at the catcalls and slurs resounding through the hallway. Then the bells rang and the crowd slowly dispersed. Hebert made an attempt to get away, but she managed to pin her against the lockers once more, this time without exposing her to the world.

"Please, Sophia, just let me go. You had our fun." The defeat in Hebert's voice was palpable. Every other time she would have felt vindicated. Now it pissed her off even more. For one she hadn't intended to start this specific conversation under these circumstances, and secondly she'd have to put up with that wimp if her suspicion — her fear — proved to be true. Why couldn't it have been Grue? He at least put up a fight.

"Are you a cape, Hebert?" She had hissed the question before Hebert could make another attempt at getting away. She figured this was like with a band aid. Rip it off, don't fuss around. Or in this case beat around the bush.

Hebert's eyes told her all she needed to know. A look of fathomless despair had filled them. Her breath had hitched. Then a small sob tore out her throat. She was about to say something when Hebert got herself back under control and her face went blank. "I don't know what you're talking about, Sophia!"

There had been no inflection at all. Sophia shook her head.

"Hebert, your reaction told me all I need to know. Meet me at Somer's Rock this afternoon."

Hebert crumpled in on herself. When she shuffled away without another word Sophia let her. There was nothing left to be said.

— -

The doorbell rang and Hebert inched into the room, looking ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger. Looking like prey. She snarled in disgust.

After a short look around Hebert shuffled to her booth.

"How did you find out?" her voice was low and dripped with bitterness "I didn't even use my powers."

Sophia massaged her temples. "The accidents." She explained. Hebert looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"You know, the time we ended up in sixty-nine in the shower? Or just before I asked you?"

Hebert's face clouded over in recognition. "I thought that just was a new way of fucking with me."

Her brows furrowed in confusion "But how does that tell you I'm a cape anyway?"

A sigh tore out of Sophia's throat. It would be a long afternoon. "You haven't been out yet, have you? When did you trigger anyway? The Locker I guess?"

Hebert head shot up. The grimace of rage on almost made her look intimidating. Maybe there was potential in there after all.

"Fuck you Sophia! You don't get to talk about that!"

She made to stand up. So Sophia blocked her in. When she fumbled a can of pepper spray out of one of her pockets she arrested her wrists.

"Sit. Hebert!"

The kick against her shin stung a surprising amount.

"Where is all that fight when you are at school, huh? Now sit down and let me explain!"

When Hebert slumped down she allowed herself a last barb.

"So you really haven't gone out yet?" Se couldn't fathom sitting on her ass for three whole months after getting her powers.

Hebert looked at her indignantly. "I like to be prepared."

Then she went back to sulking. Sophia got her thoughts in order with a shrug.

"So you know how the Endbringers changed their behavior after Scion disappeared?"

Hebert nodded dispassionately.

"And you know that the public assumes the Simurgh has gone largely inactive?"

She shrugged.

"Well she hasn't. The feathered bitch is setting up capes. No one has any idea why, but if two capes start having embarrassing accidents like we did over the last month, and believe me I hate it just as much as you, that means she intends for them to end up together."

Hebert's face was scrunched up into a grimace of disgust.

"Fuck that!"

Sophia felt a grin ghost over her features.

"For once I agree. But unfortunately we haven't really got any choice in the matter. The accidents will keep happening until we at least try. On the other hand I hear matched capes are luckier, somehow."

Hebert shuddered at that.

"So let me get this straight. You are a cape." Sophia nodded "The Simurgh has global range and is messing with capes so they end up in relationships." another nod "And she's decided we, of all people, would make an entertaining couple?"

Sophia grit her teeth and nodded again. Taylor regarded her despisingly.

"Which one?"

It took her a second to realize she had asked for her cape identity.

"Shadow Stalker."

Hebert gaped incredulously. Then her face twisted into a grimace of pure hatred.

"You know, instead of wrestling with the existential horror that is knowing the Simurgh was always just fucking with us and could have driven the whole world crazy from orbit on a whim and now wants to use me as a doll to play 'unlikely coupes', I'll just assume this is another one of your fucked up mind games. You bullied me for two years. You nearly killed me. I wouldn't date a person like you if he treated me like a goddess. Fuck You. And get out of my way."

This time the glare was intimidating.

 
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