"There's nothing physically wrong with you. Nothing I can find anyway. Mentally is a different issue entirely."
Vicky shivered and slipped her tongue back into her mouth as soon as Amy let go and started wiping off the tips of her fingers with a nearby rag. The final embarrassing act in a string of acts that had gradually escalated over a period of twenty minutes. From Amy starting off by grabbing her hand only to find nothing wrong, to her sticking her fingers in Victoria's mouth to feel it out for abnormalities.
Not many people knew that Amy's medical skills went beyond just her powers. Even without them, she was fully capable of filling in for an accredited physician. She should have been giving out prescriptions and scheduling appointments with just a wave of her pen. The only difference between her and actual doctors was that she did better without gloves than with, and she could get away with it without a malpractice suit… She also didn't have a degree. That too.
She didn't have time for that noise. The qualifications were insane.
"But...Ames," Vicky said carefully as her sister doused her hands in Purell, on edge as she felt her own words pass her lips. It was weird and embarrassing, and it kept making her shiver and...never mind. "How do you explain my face? The burning feeling and...things?" The chances of Amy not noticing that she had almost had an orgasm when she'd had her face palpated were slim to none...but she wasn't going to say anything about it.
You just didn't talk about something like that with your sister. That was all.
"There is nothing wrong with your face," Amy said in exasperated reply. "Visually or not. Your lips are the same size, your bones haven't formed up in strange new ways and the nerves on your face are the same as they've always been." Then the mousy brunette's lips pursed with pure frustration. "I have no idea why they light up in a stiff breeze or what to do about it though and it's pissing me off. What even happened to you anyway?"
"... Remember that one Case 53 that fell out of the sky and cock slapped me?"
Amy's frustrated expression got even worse. It was nice that she worried about her, but she really needed to lighten up. "Why do you have to keep saying it like that?"
"Because everyone that already knows, knows exactly what I mean when I say it, Ames. It's not exactly forgettable so I've got to own it before it owns me." Vicky rolled her eyes, glad that she didn't have to worry about that setting her off at the very least. That would have sucked...and she really hoped this shit was temporary. "Anyway, Dean told me how the PRT has been looking for him after he escaped from the hospital. Something about how he mooned Miss Militia and jumped out a window to go streaking in the middle of the day before he disappeared."
Amy took a seat on Vicky's desk chair, clasped her hands, and put them in front of her mouth. The very picture of close attention.
"So, while I was flying around ABB territory, looking for something to do… I saw him. Standing there." Victoria raised her arms up high above her head, not even close to reaching his height but doing well enough for her impromptu game of charades. "Out in public, acting as if he'd done nothing wrong."
"... What was he doing?"
"I...I guess he was raking leaves? I don't know. He had a rake." Vicky shrugged and felt a tingling feeling start up in the back of her head. "Either way, there he was. Standing there. Rake in hand and a pile of leaves nearby when I came down and I told him about how the PRT wanted to talk to him about what had happened the other day."
She didn't say anything about the old ladies though. That wasn't necessary. Nope. No one needed to hear that.
Amy raised an eyebrow, "and then that's when he punched you, right?"
"No." Vicky frowned. "That's when he started his 'Tv dad watching the Super Bowl' routine and blew me off. That asshole."
"Tv dad watching the Super Bowl routine?" Amy asked dully.
"Grunting whenever I asked him a question!" Vicky threw her arms up again, this time in frustration. "Wearing a toga, sweatpants, and pointing at random things and in random directions while not talking to me!" Bringing her arms down, she clenched one into a fist. "So I did something about it."
"Oh, god."
"I popped him one right in the nose." Vicky nodded. "And told him that if he didn't start talking to me I'd—"
"He's mute, Vicky," Amy whispered.
Vicky felt a cold sweat start building upon her back. "... Huh?"
"That Case 53 you beat up?" Amy pulled her hands away from her mouth to start rubbing her forehead, revealing the grimace that she'd probably been hiding since Victoria had begun her story. "He's mute. He can't talk."
"You're…" Vicky chuckled nervously as she felt that cold sweat begin to spread. "You're kidding, right? Because...well he still escaped from PRT custody right? So… It wasn't like I beat him up for no reason...?"
"From what I was told by the doctor in charge of the floor at the time and not some random fucking nobody that had no idea what he was talking about—"
Victoria began to wilt when Amy stood up and began to pace, her hands waving angrily in the air as she did.
—he jumped out of the window, naked, because a couple of nurses had, for some reason, decided that it was a good idea to corner him and demand a semen sample! With them in charge of extraction!"
Amy spun around, this time to give Vicky a jab in the chest that made the blonde grab at her right tit with a yelp. "Now, besides the M/S procedures everyone on that floor is going through, just in case, the entire hospital is being forced to sit through seminars on sexual harassment and why you shouldn't do it! So you did beat him up for no reason, you fucking moron!"
Vicky cringed, then forced herself in a bad attempt to lighten the mood. "... That was mean, Ames." Really bad.
Amy, after continuing her glare for a long while and causing Victoria to sweat what felt like a couple of buckets worth, she sagged. Her face took on a tired cast and she started to rub her temples like a woman possessed. That headache must have been a monster. "I'm...I'm going to go study...relax...and hope that you won't beat up any more disabled capes when I let you out of my sight."
Vicky nodded as she, carefully, eyed Amy making her way out of her room. "I won't."
"And you better tell him you're sorry when you see him again or I swear to god, Victoria..."
"I will." Vicky tried a smile. "Can you not tell Mom and Dad before I do? Please?"
Amy paused at the doorway for a beat...then left, leaving Victoria with the idea that she'd said something wrong again. Today just wasn't her day. Well. It seemed that she was just going to have to make sure that tomorrow was better.
Vicky fell back on her bed and pulled out her phone for the daily check of her social media presence. The one constant in her life besides her hatred of Nazis and love of designer clothing.
That was all she could do...and...1400 messages?
"What the fuck?"
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Victoria couldn't say whether she should be happy that someone had taken the time to make a meme about her, or angry that someone had taken the time to make a meme about her… But she was definitely leaning towards angry, considering what the meme was about. What they'd called her...and the hundreds of pages that the meme had bred on her thread.
Collateral. Damage. Barbie. What kind of name was that? A catchy as hell one, she guessed, seeing how her thread hadn't been half as active even during her debut. There was a good chance that she'd never be able to live it down now...but she had to try. She'd been trying for the last few hours actually. It had led to some...difficulties.
Vicky ignored the buzzing of her phone getting a text and continued to type her rebuttal.
She'd had to break off today's date with Dean to deal with this. Clean, succinct, to the point. He knew the importance of PR for a cape and, at the start, he'd been understanding about it. But, then, he'd come out with something that had thrown any cred he'd built up with her that day down the toilet.
"Don't do anything crazy, Vicky." She said out loud to the empty air just as she finished putting VoidCowboy on report. Hopefully, this time, he'd get banned for longer than a week...asshole. "Don't make it worse for yourself, Vicky."
Get fucked, Dean. She knew what she was doing.
So, she set about doing it. She complimented the right sorts of people. Subtly shut down the wrong types of people. Made jokes and turned what could have been a devastating PR-nuke into a case of someone having just a little too much time on their hands and a hardon for making her look bad. Difficult, but possible.
It was impressive how much effort had gone into this though. The setup. The picture quality. The fucking lighting… This would probably follow Victoria for the rest of her life after this. New Wave as well. She suspected the E-88 had done it herself. They were the only ones that bothered playing with PR and the media...but it wasn't as bad as it could have been without her, and that was enough.
After doing all that she could do without her own team of lifeless nerds, Vicky gave it up and hoped for the best. Still seething, but not feeling particularly violent as she continued trolling her way through PHO and it's many, many boards and memes.
Especially the memes.
She blinked and had to stop. Had to consider that while she was getting burned online on the altar of public opinion, the C53 she'd fought was busy dragging in the accolades...as the most pumped Chef 53. The advocate of all things scrumptious, nutritious, and fabulously muscled everywhere...and damn. She hadn't exactly been paying attention to how good he looked during their fight because, you know...fighting.
She licked her lips as she followed the line in his arm. The gently bulging veins, popping out from his muscles as he fed himself a good helping of whatever it was that was in that pot. The way his pecs bulged and strained against that little apron of his and that wide-eyed look of surprise on his face. Even if the fact that his only similarities to humanity were that he had two arms, two legs, a torso and a head… This was actually pretty good. He looked...approachable. Huggable even.
It was a complete turnaround from how he'd looking during the fight. Like he was a person instead of a monster in parahuman flesh. That was just her opinion anyway. An opinion that had taken a huge step back from what it had been before.
"I really fucked up, didn't I?" Vicky rubbed the back of her neck, sighed, and started rummaging around in her purse for some gum. "I should probably bring him a novelty pencil and a notebook as an apology… Yeah. That sounds good."
Finally, with a stick of gum in hand, Vicky barely wasted anytime unwrapping it before it was at her mouth. Touching her lips. Sliding in...and she spasmed in place, almost choking on her gum in surprise as she darkened the front of her yoga pants in arousal and 'almost' fell out of her seat. An 'almost' that had led to her slumping forward instead, her head hitting the edge of her desk where it stayed and kept it propped up.
When she accidentally kicked her chair out from under her with another spasm, that desk was the only reason she was able to take a knee instead of outright falling on her ass...but she continued to chew anyway, even though she knew it was probably a really, really terrible idea, considering how this had come to be.
She'd heard people say that this cake was 'orgasmic'. That eating this thing had been like 'an orgy in their mouth'. They had no idea what the fuck they were talking about. The texture of the gum in her mouth. The flavor. The way it shifted over her tongue and along the edges of her cheeks...it was a sexual experience. Enough to give a girl an oral fixation for the rest of their life if they weren't careful.
Vicky tried to stand again. Got part of the way up, and failed and fell once more. This time with the feeling of the soaking wet material of her pants biting deep in between the lips of her pussy. Giving her a vicious cameltoe that, when her first orgasm washed over her only made it all the better...almost too much so, prompting her to start pulling at them as if they'd actually given her a nip, forcing them away from her crotch and down over the swell of her ass to leave them both bare and 'safe' as she began to dirty the floor.
Thank god for hardwood. She'd have never been able to get it out otherwise… A strange thought, considering the hand she'd stopped using to hold herself up and stuck in between her legs. Just a little something to push her along as she allowed her eyes to go out of focus when she sunk as many of her fingers as she could fit into her slit. Just two, at the moment, but when it was up to the second knuckle it was enough for her to really draw it out.
It was like she was thirteen again. Like she'd just discovered masturbation for the first time all over again as she continued to chew. Drooling all over her arm like some kind of idiot as she forced herself to hold back every sigh and groan. When she moved her arm a little and gave her fingers a little bit of a curl though...she just stopped chewing and bit her arm. Enjoying the feeling that was her giving the ball of mint and happiness in her mouth a tongue lashing as she felt the puddle beneath her reach her knees.
She had never been a gusher. She couldn't have been said to have even been exceptionally 'juicy' when she did something like this...masturbation or otherwise. She wasn't a desert. She wasn't a river. Just somewhere in the middle where she'd been happy to be.
Something about this though, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on had changed that. The situation. The moment. Whatever it was that Jolly Green had done to her before she'd run away… She didn't know. Things had changed though, and that couldn't be denied.
She was the ocean now. A never-ending tide of lubricant and wetness that had her fingers gliding in and out of her at a breakneck pace. Far faster than she could ever remember going before the friction started to get to her...and now, she had to laugh about that dildo she kept under her bed.
She'd spent twenty dollars for a single sex toy when she could have spent one dollar on twelve. She wanted her money back!
She almost choked again when she tried to laugh at her little joke, her eyes refocusing for the first time in (Seconds? Minutes? Hours?)on a single, large blur of light in response. Details started to fill themselves in. Colors. Contours. Understanding as she came to see that C53 again, up close and personal…and the ocean suddenly got a great deal wetter.
Those muscles. Those eyes. That vulnerable expression on what might as well have been a mountain made of nothing more than metal and stone. That dick of his...that dick...it was something else. Something that would never be able to fit if she tried in a million years...but there was nothing wrong with a bit of fantasy, was there?
She added another finger. Made it into three in a poor attempt at recreating what she had seen, what she had once felt for all of a moment… It was one more than she'd ever done before, and she could feel the difference. The uncomfortably pleasurable feeling of her being forced to stretch around something bigger than she'd ever taken before as she stared up at that picture. Lost himself in his pecs. The curves of his arms and the dips of his stomach.
And then she saw a welt. One of the many she'd left him, directly over his heart, not hidden by his apron...a mark that she'd left on him...and then she just completely lost it.
The gum she'd been playing with disappeared down her throat as her vision went white and her throat started to swallow reflexively. Completely opaque, with the sight of him and his body little more than a memory. An imprint on her mind that she'd hold onto for years to come as an example as to what made sex satisfying...and all of that to the sound of liquid falling. Spattering and spraying across her floor and hand as her super strong insides clenched and rippled around her fingers hard enough to bruise.
Her legs seized violently. Her arms beat as lightly as they were able to against anything nearby as the rolling waves or her final orgasm tried to wipe her mind of everything in it... It felt less like an orgasm and more as though someone had set off a bomb inside of her, with much the same effect. She tensed. She writhed. She was brought to tears as her toes curled so hard that she heard them crack and, for the briefest of moments, Vicky found she couldn't even breathe anymore.
To say she was terrified while this was going on was an understatement. It just went on, and on, and on, even as she fell onto the side, soaking the rest of her body in the puddle she'd made as she jerked about like a fish. Gasping, choking...feeling barely alive as she found herself looking at the swinging blades of the fan on the ceiling above her head, surrounded by spots of dark and wet. A ruined, soaked ball of pink yoga wear on her stomach while her toes began to cramp.
"... Holy fuck." Vicky moaned, her throat like sandpaper as she did. Sandpaper and fire. Stupid screaming. "Did…did I just squirt?" She pushed her pants off of her and ignored the squish that came of it. Several drops audibly fell all over the room and she had no idea where the air freshener was… Meh. "I thought that only happened in porn."
Well. Now she knew different now, didn't she?
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Lisa looked up at the ceiling. Eyes open. Wide awake. Blanket tucked up to her chin and finally sober again after Moss had forced her into the shower, thinking she'd been hit with a dose of ecstasy. Today had been a day of highs and lows. Lows and highs… The sensation of a dick against her lower lips.
"I think I might have screwed up somewhere."
But, above all, it had been a learning day. That was what was important.
