Chapter 7
"Morning, Little Owl."
"Morning, dad."
He had slept the sleep of kings last night, his pipes good and clean after pumping Emma's mouth full of cum twice last night. They had sent Sophia home, back to her shitty house and her deadbeat mom, her civilian life still relevant for now to keep Alan Barnes mollified. Together, he and Taylor had cleaned the loft of anything that seemed untidy, then put the bound, gagged and blindfolded Emma back in their trunk. They had fed her some water and an energy bar, and Taylor had volunteered to help their guest with any 'biological' concerns.
The infantilizing and humiliating process had seemed to appeal to his little girl's mean streak, something that she had certainly inherited from him.
He had on a pair of boxers and a robe, untied and hanging open. Taylor had found one of her mother's old negligees, wearing it under a short little Japanese kimono getup, something Annette had bought on a whim and he had found very invigorating. Sunlight came in the window, beams visible in the steam coming off the range, hot bacon and eggs already waiting for his daughter, some hash browns cooking in the grease waiting to finish the plate.
That heat in his body was roaring, but like a well-tended furnace, it had served to fuel his ardor last night, broken to his purpose. It sensed a light below him, not parahuman, but pliable, calling out in need. His fire would fill that need, turn it to his own purpose. It had been tempting last night to use his power on Emma, but it felt wrong to waste it, and improper to take Emma with Sophia there.
He wanted to be just him and Taylor. They'd share her, and he'd help give his daughter back her friend.
"This is amazing, dad!"
In her chair, his daughter held up her plate, accepting the last fried egg and the first brown crackling rectangle of potato hash. Danny set out a plate for himself, cleaning as he went, and behind him he could imagine Taylor's vocal enjoyment of his cooking as her sounds from last night. His mind filled with memories, images of Taylor pawing at her shirt, hands creeping under to fondle herself, just like her mother used to do. The thin material had clung to her newly expanded chest, the round curves of her breasts on full display. His daughter's fingers had turned white, from how hard she was groping at herself and her face was a beautiful mixture of her features and Annette's when they had first met. Taylor was achingly beautiful, his little girl, like an angel with a Playmate's body.
Unlike Annette, their daughter's chest was heavy, big tits bouncing around as the tall girl had gripped them, tweaking her nipples with one hand while directing Sophia to lick out her cunt with the other. Still, Taylor was as graceful as her mother, even with her larger assets. It made her every grunt and shudder the previous night like a dance, like a performance.
A pair of arms surrounded him, Taylor pushing in to hug him tight from behind. The material of the 'Yukata' was thin enough he felt her chest poking him in the back, and as she released him, one of her hands fell to brush against his penis, hard in his boxers, pressed up like a flagpole. For a moment, a blissful and delicious moment, it felt like she might tuck her fingers under the elastic of his waistband, but she didn't, backing off.
"Hot oil and dishes left to do, sorry Dad," His little girl said playfully. "If you want, you can go down and get started. I helped get her ready this morning, and I'll come down and join you once I get this all cleaned up."
Danny backed off, before he gave into temptation, but watched over his shoulder as Taylor began finishing up the cleaning process. Her long legs were toned, and even barefoot she stood tall, the lingerie and short robe exposing the curve of her ass, flashing it as she moved around.
They had fixed up the basement the night before, taking time to get it in order for their guest. An old bed and metal frame had already been down there, and lit by the single naked bulb, and faint light coming through a shuttered basement window, stark shadows were cast as Emma struggled on the bed.
'No', had been his answer at first, when Taylor begged him to take her to the sex shop down on Shoreline, but eventually he gave in. Their compromise had meant going in costume, and the clerk had barely blinked at their masks. Danny supposed that if people wore costumes to a bank, people thought 'cape', but in a porn shop, people just thought 'pervert'. His daughter had looked some things up online, and the shop had them in stock, but he hadn't seen the full fruits of her labors until now.
The pale girl, a routine visitor to his house until two years ago, was strung up like a turkey. Ropes tied her arms up against her body, and her legs up too, leaving her balanced on hands and knees. A complex set of ropes crossed her chest, and those led up to an anchor that Danny had attached to a crossbeam, rated for up to 750 pounds, more than enough to handle a vicious cunt like Emma. She was nude, and from her spread ass a metal hook was connected to a rope, leading to an arrangement around her neck and upper back. The more she squirmed, the more it moved around, causing her to moan and whine into her gag. As he watched, the suspended girl moved slightly, stretching her neck, and the hook seemed to dig in further, causing the redhead to howl into her gag. His mind bounced between thinking she looked like a pornographic shipping container, and a dressed bird set out for a a feast.
Had Emma slept like this? He had left his daughter in charge last night, and Taylor had volunteered to get up early and 'take care' of her old friend. Danny found he didn't really care. A night strung up seemed like a good down payment on what the redheaded bitch owed his family.
"Good morning," Danny said to no one, putting on his Godfather mask. Until he removed her muffs, Emma couldn't hear anything. "You're lucky she's sweet, Emma, because if she had asked to do something more permanent, I'd probably have said yes."
The air in the basement was usually chilly, but Taylor had set up a space heater. That, combined with Emma's body heat, made the space almost steamy. Danny took off his robe, then his boxers, his stiff prick standing at attention as he considered the tied-up slut in front of him.
This was the end, or at the least the end of the beginning, for Emma. Might as well let her come into things in fullness. The thin man, stronger and fitter thanks to seeding two girls, easily man-handled Emma into position for him to pull off her muffs and blindfold, taking away her gag to let her stare at his cock, dangling in front of her face.
She flinched, but opened her mouth like a good girl, having performed so well the night before.
"Good morning Emma," Danny began, "You're making such a good impression." Her lips were soft, and her tongue warm and wet under his shaft. The girl couldn't more her head without the hook up her ass digging in, so it was like he was fucking a living doll. Not an experience familiar to him, but he had to admit, the slut could give head. He reached out to put a finger on the cool reflective metal of the hook, giving it a tug, enjoying the wobble of Alan's daughter's plump ass.
He reached down to cup her right breast, feeling the weight. In his mind, that roiling fire surged, seeking to find fertile soil in Emma's body. Danny felt that need in her, to be protected, to be made safe. She had fear in her, so much fear, but not of her current situation. Emma knew she was sexy, the thought of using sex as a tool in her life wasn't one she hadn't thought about.
No, Emma Barnes lost sleep at night, fearing being attacked from behind, unaware, with no one to help her and unable to defend herself.
Using his free hand to brush the soft red hair out of her eyes, Danny pulled his cock free from her mouth, leaving her lips parted, still keeping them apart, waiting to see if he'd push his dick back inside of her.
Instead, he spun her around, her weight precariously balanced, for a moment her elbows and knees wiggled in the air uselessly until he stopped her, facing the other direction. Emma pushed down as best she could on the bare mattress, groaning from the strain of the anal hook pulled by her neck, and she blinked as she saw Taylor coming down the stairs.
Or 'Blackjack', as his daughter in her Mask, short Japanese robe discarded, lingerie still on. With Taylor's changed body, there was no way that her old friend would recognize her, even with the same long brown curly hair on her head. The delicate white lace lifted her tits, pushing them out in a way that seemed deliberately obscene. Annette had enjoyed dressing up for him, before, but that now all seemed like a faint promise, that Taylor could now deliver on. Danny's girl stopped in the doorway, mouth curled up in a half-smile, and gestured for her father to continue.
Emma's sigh of relief as he pulled out the hook was quickly replaced by a grunt of surprise as he thumbed her gaping ass. The flesh was pink from exertion, a contrast to her pale skin, and he pulled his hand away to slap her flank, leaving a handprint. Her pussy was dripping, the exertion and stimulation causing her body to run in overdrive, a constant flux of fear, anticipation, relief, and thin hope had likely cost the girl any sleep she might have had last night.
Danny's voice was husky with emotion, "Is this what you want?"
The girl at his mercy began to speak, but his daughter spoke up, knowing she was the person being addressed.
"I want that. Yes."
Hands on Emma's hips, his cock split her pussy, sinking into the warm wet folds with a sound as sweet as sugar. Emma keened, her virginity taken by kidnappers in a dank basement, a strange cape woman fingering herself to the sight, but he only had eyes for Taylor. His daughter stared as her dad fucked Emma, loud slaps echoing in the room as he rode the model like a high-powered motorcycle. Danny wasn't making love, or even fucking, he was breaking Emma.
Under him, the redhead had given up trying to balance on her bound limbs, instead her weight dangled from the harness hanging from the roof, her body used by Danny, gripped hard in his hands. Her cunt tugged at him as his prick sank in and pulled out of her, her thighs soft as the staccato 'clap-clap' of his own echoed off hers in the small basement.
"Show her dad," Taylor grunted, sitting back and now half-laying on the basement stairs, "Show her what happens when you fuck with us."
Emma seemed insensate, and Danny reached up to grab a handful of her red hair in one hand, putting his thumb in her ass with the other, pressing in like it was a button to wake her up. It worked, Emma yelping in shock, and he pulled back to raise her gaze to look at Taylor. She was half-reclining on the stairs, lips parted, tongue peeking out in fevered appreciation. Her hands explored her body, cupping and groping and pinching in time with her father's thrusts.
"Show her," He grunted, his thrusting increasing in pace, "Show the bitch." His fingers kneaded his daughter's chief tormenter's tits like bread dough, like the soft hanging funbags they were. The redhead squealed like an animal caught in a trap, her warm walls sucking at his length as he pushed himself in and dragged himself out, over and over.
Taylor jumped up, crawling on all fours to keep her masked face level with Emma's. Just as she got only a few feet away, he began pounding harder, his breathing increasing in tempo again. Danny saw his daughter reveal her face as he plunged his cock deep into his daughter's best friend, letting the heat in his chest flow out as he orgasmed. It felt right in a way that was impossible to describe, his power feeling triumphant and complete.
He locked eyes with Taylor, her mouth whispering in Emma's ear, and like a spark, a wildfire seemed to break out in his mind, sent out to burn Emma's own into ash. "Daddy keeps me safe," She said, voice soft, "Not like yours, you fucking cow." That roiling fire felt a ping inside of the redhead, but different than either Taylor or Sophia. This girl needed to be protected, guarded, a sense of security wrapping her up and blocking out everything ugly in the world.
'You are safe,' He lied, binding her to both he and Taylor, 'You are protected.' Danny could feel the terrible strain on her body the bondage ropes were causing, and the toll it had taken. He gave her a gift, to match the semen he had planted in her, and felt that wounds bind themselves. Emma could be hurt, and feel pain, but not for long. A perfect little toy for his daughter.
At the same time, he felt Taylor's words, all calling on Emma to hate who Taylor said to hate, attack enemies of the family. He fueled that with his power too, until it was spent, filling this whore of a girl up with his potential. His daughter wasn't looking at their shared toy like a person anymore, but like a wayward pet, finally trained not to bite the hand that feeds her.
Finally, almost as an afterthought, he felt his power urging the passage of his own genetic material through her body. He could stop it, he sensed that, but why? It felt so good. Pulling out, a flood of hot sticky cum pouring out of Emma's gaping pussy, to match her stretched ass, he knew she was pregnant. Semen rushed out of her pummeled cunt, open wide to match her equally spread ass. The redhead's hair was matted, plastered to her sweat-soaked skin and falling like a crimson wave over her swollen creamy tits, and she was gulping air, trying to recover. A far cry from the arrogant junior model that could be seen on signs around town. He stepped back, taking a moment to steady himself, and locked eyes with Taylor.
A long moment of tension stretched out, her staring at his naked body, cock deflating, covered in a mixture of his and Emma's juices, and Danny staring at her, fingers madly twitching against her clit, eyes wide and yearning.
He began to speak, but his daughter cut him off, "I know. I know, not today. But soon." She patted the now loyal, enhanced, and pregnant Emma on the head. "And we have all day to play together with this one."
-
"Damn," The black man said, his gang colors smartly covered by a warm overcoat, watching the last truck drive off. "Fuck, that was quick." They all stood on the edge of an old cannery pier, out past the curve of the shore, out of sight of most of the city, and the hideous big floating marble that was the Protectorate base. Only a few people were left standing around, the two lead capes of the Merchants, senior members of their gang that had driven in on that ostentatious tank, four Association boys, and Danny and Taylor themselves.
"The cops not help your boys unload?" 'Godfather' had upgraded his costume, courtesy of Sophia's dwindling cash stash, and had a nice enamel Rugatino mask and fancy suit. Danny wasn't Italian, and it might help throw the scent off his trail if people got curious.
"Uh, no," The merchant said with an amused expression, "It's taken us hours to unload most nights. You bring four guys, and get it done in twenty minutes, that's a hell of an improvement."
He nodded, and like 'Blackjack' next to him eyed the big armored truck idling at the edge of the pier, the Merchant's leader Skidmark and Squealer keeping their distance. A Merchant who seemed to have his act together had helped Danny direct the flow of work, helping them get the out-of-town vessel back out of Brockton and its cargo safely out of sight.
"Bullshit," Godfather stated, "You pay cops to stay away, just enough cash so they don't come sniffin' around. Bringing them in was a pretty stupid play."
The man stiffened, "Uh, that was a decision made above my paygrade."
"It was my fucking idea, new meat," Skidmark said, coming over to try and look tough, "No fucking skin in the game unless they're here in person. It's how you can trust the shitguzzlers."
Danny tried to hold his temper in check, "And you threatened him until he agreed, right?"
The parahuman gang leader shrugged, like it wasn't the kind of short-sighted, self-destructive bullshit that pissed people off.
At first, Skidmark had come in hot, annoyed that his paid cop contact had sent Danny and his men instead of a brace of Bay cops on a patrol boat. His bluster faded as the four hand-picked Dockworkers Godfather had reached out to begin transferring cargo. The lifts and hoists that the gang didn't seem to know how to work made it a task of only a few minutes, and the smuggler and his crew seemed almost pathetically happy to be on their way so quickly.
Skidmark lunged at Danny for a moment, before pulling back with a grin, "Not going to try and tangle, you old cocksucker? Move in on my turf?"
"I'm just taking my cut, Skidmark," Danny said, giving the Merchant crewboss by his side a look. The mundane human ganger was hiding it, but looked embarrassed by his boss's confrontational tone. Realizing that a fight wasn't going to kick in, Skidmark made his way over to see what Squealer and Blackjack were talking about, leaving Danny to talk to his new friend. They seemed to be discussing if Danny and she were involved, and his daughter was talking him up to the curvy wreck of a woman.
Danny could overhear the gang leader asking his daughter if she wanted to go sample a real man, and Taylor did him proud by flipping the gacked-up black man off and describing her father's long dick in glowing terms. He himself gave a little nod at Skidmark who shot an angry look back before moving down towards the water.
The Association man tapped the pistol at his side, and nodded his head toward Skidmark's retreating form, "I gotta say, your boss doesn't seem like the type to lean on loyalty."
"He's nobody," The other man said quietly, "Nobody from nowhere. He took over a small time crew, probably the same crew he was buying from as a junkie, then went around stepping on anybody that wouldn't get in line. Like an imitation of the ABB, which means we're really a shitty imitation of the fucking Empire."
Danny snorted, "The Pan-Asian gang, the All-Black gang, and the Nazi gang. That doesn't seem very fair to me."
"The man's stoned all the time," The tattooed gangmember said in an annoyed tone, "It's fucking unprofessional."
'Time to make the pitch'. He tapped the gun again, careful to keep his hands in view. "I'm surprised nobody has taken a shot at him, internally I mean. He's not one of the bulletproof ones."
A long look came from the black man next to him, the nighttime air around them only turning chillier with the topic of conversation. "What's the point? Some two-bit corner boy stubs his toe next week, turns into a giant made out of fucking rats, then I have to learn all his favorite pizza places and songs he doesn't like. Gotta have a cape in charge, it's the only way to stay viable."
Eyeing him for age, Godfather would guess he was in his early 30s. Old to be gangbanging, but then he might have a record, unable to do anything else. It also might mean he was old enough to remember a time that a 'Boss' meant somebody who knew what discretion was, who helped people earn and keep their heads down. Not somebody who used the gang as a support mechanism to go pick a fight with the Superhero FBI every three weeks.
"Gotta be him?" Danny asked, keeping an eye on Skidmark hovering behind Taylor, as his daughter listened to Squealer bragging about her tinkertech vehicle.
The man looked down at the Association man's hand. "Gotta look like him."
"Ah," Danny grinned, "Can she look like him?"
At the moment, Sophia was up on top of a nearby rooftop, long rifle on a bipod in front of her. Danny and Taylor had taken her down to the pier to shoot over the last few days, and while she might not be a crack shot yet, she could probably make it down to the ground level quick enough, if it came to it. Emma was at their home, tied up, waiting happily for him to come back and satisfy his frustrations, quite settled in six days in the Hebert family basement.
Sophia had called Alan Barnes cell from a burner phone that Saturday night, telling him that Emma had been taken. The rogue vigilante cape had told him not to go to the cops, and the kidnappers would call him. Taylor had been especially amused, hearing the black girl put on a fearful voice, telling Alan not to contact her again, that she didn't want anything to do with it. Emma had called him next, coached by Danny on what to say. Alan had dropped off the money, picked up by Shadow Stalker, and had gotten two minutes of phone time with Emma, as Danny plowed her, the girl's moans of pleasure taken as ones of fear by her parents.
The only wrinkle was that his old friend might try and go to New Wave, but Danny had plans for that.
"Her," The Merchant asked, turning fully to face Danny? "Not that one, huh?"
Danny shook his head, they could both see his daughter's legs, bare and pale under the sparkly red dress.
"Shit. This ain't the 90s, man. I love me some girl power." The black man extended his hand. "I'm Beans. You and me need to talk."
-
Chapter 8
Chapter 8:
"Did you hear? Her dad is telling people she's in the hospital."
She nodded, tuning Madison out.
"But she's not posting anything, and her phone is dead, it's weird."
Turning, Sophia shrugged, letting some of her genuine frustration out to push back on her 'friend's constant chatter. "God, Madison, I told you, she's just really sick and her parents don't want people bothering her. They let me talk to her." They had both stopped in the hallway on their way out of their last class of the day, and other students poured around them like a rushing stream. The little brunette had never been one of Sophia's favorite people, but now that she had legitimate purpose and claims on her time, indulging the overly-cute girl had degraded into an insulting waste of time.
The truth was that Madison had always been part of the 'gray' background that most people were in. Emma had seemed interesting, fighting back against the ABB, but now Sophia knew people that truly mattered. Both of the bitches deserved whatever Taylor and Danny wanted to do with them, and she would gladly help.
Idly, Sophia thought about herself once the seed inside her began to grow, her tits swollen like balloons, her stomach round and protruding. Would Taylor still want to pay attention to her, would her father still find Sophia attractive? And if he fucked a baby into this little slut, would she have to split her fun time with fucking Madison Clements?
"Sophia!" Madison said, balling her little fists, "It's weird! And Taylor isn't around, either."
"Madison, I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd freak. The rumor is that Hebert is homeschooled now. About time. I'd drop out too, if I could."
Sophia turned away, and left Emma's little hanger-on to have a temper tantrum in solitude. How things had changed in the few weeks she had been hanging around with Taylor, how small and unimportant everything felt like now. She had made up some bullshit excuse to quit track, and hadn't bothered listening to the coach trying to guilt her into staying. Old Sophia would have pretended to at least care about Madison. Having a crowd had helped Emma boss around all the other girls. Now though, Sophia knew what true strength and weakness was.
A genuine smile crossed her face, and Greg Veder turned to avoid crossing her path, practically diving into an open classroom door. Sophia had been wasting her time, playing at being a baby cape, hunting people in the dark who couldn't fight back. Now she had people in her life who cared about her, who wanted to help her be a better version of herself.
The school had never felt more like a television show, a play, a false layer over the world. She pushed through people like they were branches on a tree, ignoring angry looks by upperclassmen or snippy comments by bitches who ought to know better. Walking out the front doors, she passed the bus line, and the long snaking column of cars full of soccer moms to walk out into the city, ready to begin her true education.
-
"It's not all drugs, damn. That'd fucking kill people." Beans was almost her mom's age, but he seemed to have his act together in a way that Sophia didn't really associate with the kinds of people she had been pinning to walls. Or her mother, for that matter. Once her own time came, Sophia would be the best fucking mom in the world.
"So what is it?" She asked. The black girl was standing in the back room of a pool hall, in costume, alone with the older merchant. The walls were covered in posters of naked big-tittied white girls in blunt cuts and old pimped-out hoopties from the 90s, both long past the era in which they were fashionable. The air smelled like cigarettes, and across from her, the Merchant that Danny was trying to recruit was scratching his chin.
It was like Terry's room but passed through a time machine, something from a different era. A song was playing, and Sophia only knew the artist because his daughter had a hit song when she was in the fourth grade.
"I mean, all kinds of stuff. Cigarettes from other countries. Untaxed spirits. Televisions, sometimes even bootleg furniture."
She felt her eyebrows rise, "Like chairs and shit?"
A heavy sign came from the man, his t-shirt and jeans the uniform of choice for Merchants in town. "Ok, so a Bulgarian guy comes into the US. American Dream, all that, good for him. But he misses how his sofa felt back home. Here in America though, you don't get springs that poke you in the back, or colors that give off toxic fumes, or fabric that catches on fire if you look at it funny. There's inspectors and standards and practices, all that."
The flat look Sophia gave Beans had him rolling his eyes. He put down his stinky cigarette and sat on one of the old folding chairs, gesturing for her to take a seat with him. Making a mental note to pack wet wipes in her cape bag from now on, Sophia did.
Beans sat like a king in court, arms expressive as he illustrated his points with lively gestures.
"They don't teach you about fucking OSHA in school. Anyway, if you can get that Bulgarian guy his chair, he'll pay you, but maybe, maybe, he works at Medhall, and lets you into a warehouse at night to walk off with nine crates of high test oxys."
Stifling her urge to strangle this old fuck to make him hurry his point along, Sophia suppressed a snarl, "So you fucking traffic in black market couches?"
"No," Beans said with a sigh, "I gave a guy one, once. It's just anything, all bets are off thanks to, you know, that-" He said, gesturing to her mask. "Once upon a time, somebody told somebody and that person then told me to pick up a package of horse. Or whatever. I'd cut it up, parcel it out, then I'd watch like a hawk as boys I'd known since grade school went out and stood on corners selling product."
He seemed to have expected her to have an epiphany, and Sophia owed it to Danny to at least try. She thought about what she had heard him discussing over the phone with the Association's lawyer, with Taylor, and herself. Ways to bring money in, or find out who was making money on the docks and push in on their racket. Influencing people made sense, so she gave Beans a smile, only grimacing a little as he lit another cigarette.
He continued with a sigh, "Now though, it's a free-for-all. You can buy cops cheap, because they're fucking terrified, nobody has any idea of who runs what, and so you just push, and hope your cape can stand up to their cape, and run like fuck if they either can't, or just don't show up at all."
The man slouched as he spoke, almost defeated. A half empty glass of something dark sat on the bar, left as he had greeted Sophia, and he got up to retrieve it, throwing it back in a single gesture. The posters of naked girls and once-fashionable cars seemed like self-torture to Sophia, a sign that he hadn't quite accepted the reality that parahumans were fucking awesome, and it was his duty to respect that awesomeness.
"So," He concluded, "Your tryout. Not for the Merchants, but for me. You ready?"
Sophia felt a smile split her face, and her hand reached for her mini-crossbows in their holsters. "Fuck yeah." Her body sang in anticipation, filled with a mix of excitement and the anticipation of violence. She clenched and unclenched her fists, mimicking the shape they took holding her crossbows, or the pistol Danny had gotten her. The anticipation of violence made her feel tingly all over, visions of explosive action ringing in her mind, bringing color into the world.
Beans leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial silence, "The corner of 9th and Beechgrove is a four story building. On the top floor is one of Skidmark's cash stashes, in an apartment used by one of his most loyal men, so an asshole. I know for a fact the cape won't be around, but the cash, and the crew will be. If you can take them out, and bring me the cash, you can tell Godfather that I'm in, that'll I'll help him."
Danny had told her that this man was her responsibility, his recruitment and loyalty. Doing that for him made her feel satisfied, complete somehow, happy in a way that hunting criminals never had. This man was still just a gray dead tree branch that Sophia had to push through, but she could make it through if in the end the Heberts would be happy. In her mind, she felt the blood splatter, heard the bass thrum of a bolt sinking through flesh and biting into wood.
Shadow Stalker stood up, and nodded. Out through the windows of the back room, she could see darkness had fallen over the city. Time to hunt, time to go prove herself worthy.
-
"Shhh, that's right. Just let it happen."
Taylor's left hand was closed tight in a fist, and she began opening it, her fingers pushing out, knuckles straining at the tender flesh of Emma's tunnel. The redhead's tongue hung out, drool pouring down her chin as her captor and recently restored best friend fisted her pussy, Emma's new durability making her such a fun toy to play with.
"Good girl, just enjoy it," The sensation of the slick tight hole gripping her hand was unlike anything Taylor had ever felt. She had mixed emotions about being responsible for the blissed-out cross-eyed expression on Emma's face, but her sense of control, of domination, more than made up for it. This felt like the only way back for them, to let Taylor seize back a sense of power, and it only seemed fair to let Emma feel what it was like to be someone's plaything.
Emma moaned, bucking her hips in time with her old friend's thrusts. It was better like this, having the redhead at her mercy, than when she was just apologizing over and over. This wasn't any more honest, but it felt more genuine, on both their parts.
It had started with Taylor slapping Emma's tits, just to see how long the marks lasted, and things had just progressed naturally from there. Fear sparked in her old friend's eyes each time Taylor did something new, and even if it was just for a split-second, she made a point of staring into the redhead's eyes, drinking it in. At first, her 'friend' had pleaded for her to be gentle, but by the end all Emma could make was animal noises, grunts and inarticulate moans of pleasure.
"Just relax," The brunette cooed again into the redhead's ear. Taylor's right hand cupped her guest's chin, pulling up so that she could stare into Emma's eyes. "Tell me you love it, tell me you're glad we're best friends."
"I dooo!" The girl got out. Her body shook, and in her pussy Taylor felt the lubricant of her father's seed coating her hand as she stretched Emma out. Sweat clung to both their bodies, but on Emma it was a sheet, the result of hours of being fucked, toyed with, fingered, and used like the whore she was. The fun thought was that as much work as she might put into widening the bitch out, the redhead's body would just revert back, the gift of an eternally tight ass, virginal cunt, and sucking throat. Her fingers clenched into the soft pillowy flesh of Emma's ass, and she couldn't help but compare it to Sophia's muscular buttocks, and Taylor's own curved hips.
Such wicked things filled her mind when she thought of Emma. Taylor could be so creative with her soft pink little best friend fuck meat. Whip her clit, pinch her nipples with steel clamps, put her in a stockade and use a strap-on to drive the redhead to orgasm after orgasm while the bitch apologized over and over. Her father had given Taylor a toy that would never break, that would always put itself back together for her.
Satisfaction could take many forms, and Taylor intended to sample them all.
Slowly, Taylor pulled her arm out, holding it so that Emma could lick it clean. As the bottom of her forearm reached Emma's pussy lip, they stretched tight around her wider knuckles. The sight of her prior tormenter on her knees on the basement floor made her feel vindicated, a sense of pure triumph filling her up. The glittering fluid on Taylor's fingers shone like diamonds in the dim basement light. Eventually, Taylor stood, naked, and looked over to the lingerie that she had been wearing around the house.
"Not tonight,'' She muttered to herself. Taylor stood up on one foot, balanced for a moment, free from want and care, and spun in place, arms and legs out to keep her balance. Eventually, she stopped, breathing in and out, letting the energy gained by fist-fucking her Emma drain out of her. No sense going upstairs and looking too eager, after all. The lanky young lady took a final deep breath, and went upstairs.
In the kitchen, the soup that Taylor had made earlier in the day continued to simmer on the range, and Taylor began to prepare the bread to go in the oven. She tied an apron around her waist and her neck, smiling to herself at the domestic energy the ensemble seemed to radiate. Her feet were cool on the floor as the rough material of the cooking garment scraped against her chest. Taylor breathed in deep as she put the buttered dough into the front of the oven, setting a timer to go off just before her father was due to get home.
Did her mother cook like this? Not that Taylor could remember. Annette Hebert had usually come home late at night, after teaching, finding her husband asleep on the sofa after a long day and her daughter upstairs in her room. No, she'd do better, Taylor would treat her father right, like he deserved. Her hips bounced to music only she could, turning the act of cooking into a performance just for herself to enjoy.
The Association was thriving for the first time in a while. Her dad had always been hesitant to take jobs that might make waves, and had done his best to preserve what influence he had. Now though, he had begun pushing back, using legal pressure to keep the city from taking lowest-bid contracts that didn't meet the true minimum requirements. If there was going to be true oversight over the docks, then the Dockworker's Association was going to see a real return to prominence.
Taylor hummed to herself happily as she set the table, laying out a full place setting for her father, but conspicuously left the other three chairs around the table empty. Emma would be ready to come out of the basement tonight, and then Sophia would be back after her evening duties. They could all have a nice dinner together, Taylor, her father, that bitch Emma, and stupid fucking Sophia, all having a fun meal. She set the table like she dimly recalled her mother doing, carefully recreating the scene for her father's benefit, only better.
Nights with frozen pizza or cold take-out had been the norm at the Hebert house for a long time. That first night, Taylor had needed to ask their 'guests' about how to set a proper table, learning how to set out the flatware and finding a couple of old placemats from the back of a closet. They needed a firm hand in their lives, which her father could provide, but care and love from a woman too. A mother's touch. Her mind sang at the thought of being that for them, along with him.
"Hey honey," Danny said, coming in through the door, "I'm home." He had a crooked smile on his face, and Taylor squealed into her hands, setting down the steaming bread to go give her daddy a hug. His strong arms pulled her into an embrace and she felt his mustache tickling her neck as they held each other, the memory of long gray months fading away in the crucible of new adventures. Rough fabric pressed up breasts as she mashed them into her father's chest, and his calloused hands for a delicious moment cupped her bare ass before pulling up to rest on her lower back.
"Very funny, dad," Taylor said, her rich curly brown hair bouncing as she looked up. "How was the Association?"
"Good," Danny said, reluctantly releasing her. "Great, actually. Let me get settled in, then I can't wait to find out what smells so good." He began taking off his coat and pulling his boots off, while Taylor went back to the range to get the soup ready. Taylor swung her backside as she walked back, gratified to see her dad with his eyes fixated on her ass, making it dance just for him.
As he sat at the head of the table, she put a steaming bowl in front of him, and a plate of warm bread. He took a bite and then patted his leg, letting Taylor sit on it and lean into him. His knee was a knob of firmness between her legs, and she ground herself on it, feeling her father's heartbeat increase her arm settled on his neck.
"This is amazing, I knew you said it would be special, but I didn't expect your mother's famous stew."
She didn't make an effort to expose herself, but neither did she try to stop the apron from shifting as Taylor balanced herself on his leg. It left much of her newly enhanced right breast hanging out of the top of the domestic garment, only inches from her father's face. She imagined what his teeth would feel like on her areola, sampling her nipple between his jaws.
"Nothing heavy, not tonight," Taylor said huskily, "It's a big night for our special girl."
He rested a hand on her bare hip, his pinky digging into her ass, and his thumb resting achingly close to her lips, wet and open from anticipation. They talked for a long time, chatting about the city, his work with the association, and their two girls. Sophia had kept them informed on goings-on at Winslow, and at how easy it was for Taylor to slip between the cracks. The parahuman had used her power to break in and change a few records on the unlocked school computer, making sure Taylor could vanish after moving to 'homeschool.'
It might be harder to vanish Emma, but that wouldn't need to happen until they had bled her parents dry.
"Another?" Danny asked, holding up the empty bowl. Taylor leaned in to kiss his cheek, as she stood, she suppressed a moan, feeling her father's lips and mustache brush over her exposed nipple. She stood, for a moment, waiting to see what he'd do, but then did as she was told, taking his bowl to refill it. As she was facing the range, Taylor felt a presence behind her, then a pair of arms came from either side, her father's cologne filling her nose with its familiar, comfortable scent.
"Put it down, Taylor," He said, his erection pressed up against her back, still bound in cloth, but hot and radiating against her bare flesh. The dockworker's strong hands moved up to cup her breasts, one covered by the apron, one bare, and the brunette girl felt herself melt into his embrace. "You look just like your mother, better, maybe. I always wanted her to do things like this, but, you can't jus-"
"You can, daddy," Taylor said, letting her head roll back, feeling her father's lips on her neck. His chest was pushed up against her back, and she bounced from one heel to the other to cause her soft round cheeks to bounce against his cock. The leggy girl's tits were being squeezed by her dad, the stiff nipples caught between his fingers as he massaged the sensitive flesh. "You can ask me anything."
She heard a zip behind her, and spread her legs instinctively, aching in need to be filled up by her loving father.
Then they both turned to hear a key being turned in the back door.
-
"Oh, shit."
Danny looked down to see his cock out, nestled in the valley of Taylor's ass, the head purple and raging from the fire of his arousal. Taylor had bent over, her tits no longer in his hands, the apron pulled down to let both delicious breasts hang free in front of her. He longed to tug at her nipples, turn her around and fuck her chest, something he had never done with Annette, but tonight his time was already spoken for.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," Sophia said with a hint of apology. But when Danny looked closer, her smile looked like a lioness returning from a hunt. "You said to come over after the job was done and I had dropped off the cash." The black girl closed the door behind her, a dark fluid dripping onto the floor below her, and after a moment he recognized it as blood. The pistol he had gotten for her was in one holster, one of the little crossbows in the other, and he had given her quite the lecture on picking the right tool for any given task. Based on the growing pool of other people's blood at her feet, he'd judge that she had learned that lesson well.
Before he could speak, Taylor had moved around him to stare at the black girl, and the bag she was carrying. "Did you get it?" Looking at the heavy bag, Danny knew she did, thinking, 'That's my girl'.
"Yup," Sophia said smugly, "Our cut was 65k, more than we thought we'd get."
He felt his eyes bug out as Taylor whooped, rushing up to hug the bloody girl. She was causing a bit of a mess, but it wasn't as if he was short on hands to clean up. Danny's mind began to race. Sophia's cash had just about run out, spent like water to grease palms and get contracts for the Association. This kind of money would keep them afloat for months.
"Any trouble?" Danny asked, turning to face Sophia.
Her eyes moved to his wobbling cock, and her hungry smile got even wider. "Easy-peasy, Mr. H. I came in like you said, from above, -whoosh-!" The black girl raised her arms as if playing at being a monster coming in from the shadows.
"I faded in and shot two guys right off the bat, they never saw it coming. Just bolts tonight, quieter, like you said, and since I'm not breaking anything to get it, my whole attack barely made any noise." Blood spattered her costume, like a Jackson Pollock painting, "Just went from room to room after those first two guys. In the kitchen, I came in through the wall and put a bolt in the back of a guy's head who was looking in the fridge. Then a toilet flushed and I clipped through the wall in the hallway to shoot the second to last guy in the gut, he bled out before I got back to him. The one that Beans needed gone heard that and started shouting. I used that map that Beans drew to phase in from the bedroom closet behind the guy." Sophia's body language had turned primal, and her hands explored her body as she recounted the violent rampage. At the end, she mimed shooting her crossbow, "-Twang-, dead. I doubt it was more than twenty seconds from when I dropped in until it was done." Her eyes had a hint of need in them, pleading for his approval, but Danny wasn't a hard person to read. Sophia knew she had done good.
Taylor skipped over to kiss Sophia on the lips, then gave her a little congratulatory hug, "Did you do the thing?"
"I sure did," The preening black girl posed as his daughter moved around her, removing the soiled costume. The dark black material gave way to chocolate skin as Taylor unwrapped the tamed killer like a birthday gift, a soft slick sound accompanying the movements as the tight black cloth pulled away. "I phased those special fireworks you gave me into their corpses, after I got my bolts out." Nothing but pride accompanied the statement, not a hint of shame. Danny knew that nurture or nature or a mix of the two had made the girl a total nut, but even he had to appreciate just how cold-blooded the girl was.
"Good girl," His daughter said, winking at her father. Taylor's fingers lingered on Sophia's breasts, the tops of her thighs, the curve of her ass, all gestures meant to emphasize the enticing nature of the bloody killer, and ensure that the black girl in turn was ready to do her part.
Sophia mimed an explosion, "BOOM, and then just a mess of each body. I don't know a cape in Brockton that does that exactly, but it sure as fuck doesn't look like I did it."
As Sophia had been prepared for him, Danny stalked over, a sharp smile on his face. "Good work, you did good work tonight for us, Shadow Stalker. Do you want your reward? Do you want me to empower you fully?"
The black girl's eyes were laser-focused on his rod. "Yes, sir. Please."
"Even though you'll get fat and pregnant, and have a baby just like Emma will."
"Uh-huh." Sophia's body language became even more blatantly sexual, the chocolate skin on display practically humming with desire.
Danny stopped. He hadn't had this conversation with Taylor yet, but she had told him he could ask anything, and he didn't think that just included her. "I want to try other things. To change people, experiment with my power. Will you bring me your mother?" It wasn't as if he'd even met the woman, but Taylor wanted to keep Sophia full time and he wasn't a monster. Best to kidnap whole families, less mess that way. The woman's life seemed like a mess, it wasn't as if Danny was going to waste any 'potential.' And their pet killer seemed to always go cold at the mention of her mother. It might be fun to see just what Sophia was capable of, when it was her pushing things.
Instead of being offended, Sophia licked her lips. "Yeah, fuck. That's kind of hot." A spiteful bite of the lip accompanied the quiet comment.
A dark eruption of anticipation filled Danny at the thought of shaping an older woman. He had failed with Taylor for so long, and now she was blossoming again. He could give Sophia an improved mother, or, glancing at Taylor, perhaps better to think of the woman as a new sister, improved and enhanced.
As Taylor stripped the blood-dripping boots off Sophia's body, fingers tracing taut leg muscles, Danny reached out to take the black girl by the back. He didn't kiss her, it wasn't going to be like that, instead the man bent her over like he had done to Taylor earlier. Just like his daughter, the parahuman in front of him spread her legs, just moments before Danny sank himself into her. A jolt of pleasure hummed up his length as Sophia's warm folds curled around him, different than Emma's but just as enjoyable. The girl quietly moaned, and one hand moved to her chest, the other rising to her throat. Looking around, Taylor had vanished, but her destination was clear, the basement door open.
"Fuck me!" Sophia howled, and he complied, his hips bouncing against hers. Her brown ass clapped against his thighs, and Danny gripped and kneaded the soft flesh in his fingers as he bred the bitch. He was proud of what he had made, what they had made together. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Taylor, nude, coming up with an equally bare Emma behind her, the sluts' eyes downcast. He could feel that speck of DNA still inside the redheaded girl, and watched with satisfaction as Taylor dragged her over to the dinner table.
"Good job, Shadow Stalker," Danny said, in full earnest praise, "You're an earner, and earner's get rewarded." He had such plans now, Taylor wanted to keep Emma for herself, and Sophia was doing what she was doing. But nothing made money on the docks like girls could. Not drugged out skanks or chained up slaves, but classy girls in dresses, selling dignity along with sex at a fair price.
This Madison girl? Sophia's Mom? That Rune bitch? Zoe? Anne? Danny had felt his power flood Emma, and it hadn't taken much to overwhelm her. He wouldn't need to plant the full seed of his power, or the fruit of his loins to break them. Just a little alone time to make them more agreeable.
"Guh," Sophia added incoherently, "Ugh." Her long brown legs slapped against his, Danny's balls tapping out a rapid rhythm as he railed the bloody girl. With a grimace, he plucked something from her hair, and before he could recognize it Sophia laughed and snatched it away, flicking the severed finger into their kitchen sink.
Taylor winked at him, her toy in her lap, the redhead's fat tits bouncing as she rode his daughter's leg. His little girl had a finger jammed up in the cunt of her friend, digging around as they both served as an audience for his full claiming of his little champion. His girl was practicing her power at Danny's suggestion, using Emma as a kind of scratch pad. Sophia was too valuable to fuck up too much, but the panting slut was for using, after all.
"You earned this," He grunted, bouncing himself into her, "You worked so hard."
In response, Sophia could only moan, her long runner's legs keeping her upright but her body's pleasure driving all sense from her mind. He could feel himself getting close, and pulled the black girl's hair up so her chest was accessible. With a big brown tit cupped in each hand, Danny came, his cum flooding the girl's pussy so that it dripped down onto the floor, spreading the mess even farther in the kitchen. Like Emma, he felt his power flood her, and while the redheaded cunt only got a taste of him, Sophia a got thee full package
Danny knew somehow she'd move a little faster in her phased form, objects phased by her would stay that way for a few moments more. Everything that made Sophia be Sophia had just gotten a boost. And along with it, he felt a surge of himself take hold in her belly, one that would grow and swell overtime.
"Fuck," He grunted, stumbling backward, and let himself collapse into his dinner chair. Danny laughed a little, slapping Sophia's retreating form, and closed his eyes for a moment. Again, he felt a bit stronger, a bit tougher, as if when he gave the girls their gift, he got a little back in return. Catching his breath, he kept his eyes shut, listening absently for a few moments. Clinks of flatware fought with the quiet female voices talking quietly, and then he heard the sound of chairs being dragged across the floor.
Danny opened his eyes. In the throes of passion and recovery, he had missed Taylor serving herself, and their two guests, and a naked wincing Emma was joined by an equally bare and dripping Sophia around his table. The redhead was pink, her body pinched and poked by Taylor, and it seemed that her old friend couldn't find a body part to sit on that didn't ache. And Sophia kept staring at her gaping creampie, eyes filled with wonder, hand tracing circles on her bare brown belly.
"Now," Taylor said, winking at him, "If you girls are good, and clean up the kitchen tonight of all this mess, then afterward you can sleep in our bed tonight."
"Our bed?" Danny asked with a raised eyebrow.
The look on his daughter's face was love and sex, all mixed into one. "Isn't it?"
'Huh', He thought, 'And so it is.'
-
Chapter 9
"So that's each man walking away with two grand, cash in pocket."
His trusted men from the trial run with the Merchants looked like the cats that ate the canary, all sitting together on the front row. Danny knew these men, almost as well as they knew themselves, good Association men through and through. Tonight was about pushing past those first few recruits, guys that he had worked with for years.
Luckily for him and Taylor, she hadn't been a routine visitor to the Hall for a few years, and with the physical changes she had been going through, the men weren't likely to notice her.
Probably.
Danny's hand cupped her ass as his daughter leaned into him, her slinky red dress a point of brilliant light in the otherwise dim room. She straightened up to add, "And that's only the beginning. The Merchants are a joke, and we all know it. Just six drug crews in a trench coat, pretending to be a major player. We know the Docks, the City, and every way in and out that a gang of pushers never will."
"And," Taylor added, bending at the waist a little to look at Kurt who was blushing, seemingly under the impression Danny had moved on with a lookalike to Annette. "That's money waiting for us to claim, as much as we want."
A hungry look came over the men's eyes. Behind him, dressed in dock worker camouflage, Beans was observing. The Merchant had moved one rung up, in Skidmark's organization, putting him close to the man himself. Being an active cape didn't seem to leave the man much time to care for day-to-day operations, so Danny's new friend had broad latitude in how to run things.
Like, say, bringing in outside talent to handle initial distribution.
"And you got the cops covered?"
Danny knew the question was coming, and still struggled not to roll his eyes. "Like I always do, Gutierrez." He knew better than to bring Vickers to a meeting like this, but as Head of Hiring, it was a key part of Danny's job to keep law enforcement at arm's reach from any Association work. A full quarter of the men who paid dues had dubious papers, and unlike the old days, it wasn't just Hispanics. Asian refugees were still new to the community, even after years, and while none had worked their way into his trust enough to attend today, that would have to change eventually.
"Right now," He continued, "All the gangs, not just the Merchants, pay the Bay cops to come sit on deliveries, to provide cover. The wet-sock patrol wants out of that racket, no more men on scene. That opens up space for us to go in, take over site security, and also move freight."
"The Asian's going to buy into that?" A man asked.
Another added, "Empire too?"
Godfather knew that all these men knew who he really was, but he trusted them now not to go running to OSHA over every little thing, or INS to tattle on their fellow Association members. What he also had selected for today were men he was confident weren't taking payoffs from either of those gangs.
It was understandable that a desperate man might accept cash to give info on his workplace. Danny could be sympathetic. Godfather couldn't be. Soon, they'd need to seek employment elsewhere, or prove they could be trusted again.
Kurt cleared his throat, "Uh, you or her going to go toe-to-toe if we get rolled up, doing a job?"
"I am," A voice chimed in, Sophia phasing into the room, waiting on Kurt's pre-cleared question. She lifted a hand crossbow and shot a bolt across the room, phasing it enough to keep it out of step with the world long enough to leave it halfway into the wall, the exposed section vibrating like a stuck fish. "I'm Shadow Stalker, Godfather's security specialist, and problem solver. I'll be with you any night you work, so nobody fucking pussy out."
None of the men who worked out on the docks were the effete type, and cape or not, they didn't want to look weak in front of what was obviously a young woman. What little reluctance Danny could see faded away.
"Once, men like you bought big houses by the water. Your wives shopped at the nicest stores in town, your children went to the finest schools." That was before any of these men were born, Danny left out.
Taylor's body rubbed up against his, her rich curly hair exposed by her mask, "Back in the day, big strong men like you could come off a boat, and find the best whores north of Atlantic city nearby, aching for the opportunity to scrub your backs. Do you like the idea of finding one of Lung's operations, and fucking a half-dead slave?"
"No," One man said, disgusted.
"How about going down to the corner, and spending a little pocket money on a good Brockton girl, who knows just what a tired blue-collar man needs?"
It was hard for Danny to tell if Taylor was using a hint of her power, but every man in the room had a distant look on their face. Both 'Blackjack' and 'Shadow Stalker' were wearing tight costumes, the sparkly red flapper dress on Taylor and an abbreviated version of Sophia's old costume serving to accentuate their already explosive sensuality. His little princess had become a queen, the sparkly flapper dress, Annette had called it 'la Garconne', was cut short, showing off Taylor's long legs. The matching tall red heels completed the look, her mop of rich curly dark brown hair framing the feathered black masquerade mask guarding her identity.
In contrast to the long straight lines of Taylor's dress, broken up by her enhanced curves, Sophia was dressed like the assassin she was. Her costume retained the long floor length cloak and full-face mask, but the underlying black body suit had been swapped out for skin-tight spandex. Her curvy bust and hips competed with the black girl's toned arms and legs, marking out her as a physical threat.
As he spoke, Danny saw that Taylor was cast in the light to his side, her face turned to his in rapturous attention. Sophia was on his other side, half in shadow, her eyes moving from face to face in the crowd, judging their reaction.
He put a hand around his daughter, fingers resting near the valley between her legs, and could see the men in front looking jealous. They wanted what he had, and Danny had plans to recruit more girls, to give it to them.
On his left, Taylor had on her flapper dress, not the most practical outfit to fight in, but it made a hell of an impression with her long legs and curly hair. Her mask was simple, lined in reflective red sequins to match her costume, the whole ensemble radiating dangerous grace and beauty. In contrast, Sophia's outfit was pure murder and sex, her tits and ass hugged tight, the costume forgoing armor for sleek speed. Her full face mask had a few minor changes, plumper lips and a curve to the eyes that could be flirty or predatory, depending on how you looked at it.
"So," He said, sparing a glance at Beans, "We're to settle this like the Association men that we are."
Patting Taylor on the ass, giving it a squeeze for good luck, she went behind him to reveal a chart on the wall. "First a vote, to accept the criteria behind me, a grid defining seniority, aptitude, and availability. Then, we divvy up what jobs we have to who's getting them."
As the men began discussing the terms of the contract, Taylor returned to his side, Sophia joining him on the other. It felt good, building something strong again. Danny looked out, and hoped that thing tonight would work out as perfectly.
-
The aftermath left silence in its wake, and her knowing grin wasn't helping things. The division of the Hess family living room and kitchen was more notional than architectural, and Sophia stood sneering at her mother from only a few feet away, their shouting match done at close quarters.
"I said," Her mother continued, wearily, "What the fuck is your problem? The school said you were skipping again. Do you want me to turn you in for that? I told them you had been going, that it must be something on their end." Gloria Hess's voice only got louder, the longer the tirade went on.
Sophia shrugged, feeling the weight of the equipment in the bag over her shoulder. Terry was out for the night, and wasn't much of a presence when he was around. Her mom's on again, off again boyfriend Steven was banished after some altercation, and she had her mother all to herself. Around her, the weathered old furniture made her consider why she had kept all that money to herself, but Danny insisted on buying things for Taylor, himself, and Sophia and Emma.
Did she not care? Maybe. That gray curtain that covered the world only let a shade of her brother through, and her mom not at all. Sophia realized that she may have never loved her mother, may not have known how. But she knew love now. It had been fucked into her. Any trace of hesitation vanished from her mind.
That sense she had when she pulled ahead, running in track, came over her like a crashing wave, a surge of triumphant victory.
"Mom, ugh, it's just fucking Winlslow. Who gives a fuck?" It was easy, matching her mom mope for mope, a game they played almost every time they had interacted for years.
The clock on the wall read 8pm, close to half an hour past when the older woman would typically leave for her job as a waitress. Sophia had deliberately fucked around, killing time hanging with Taylor at the loft, braiding Emma's hair and planning their futures, to make sure that her mother would need to call in. A mobster's hitman, for her, and a kept woman, for Emma. Taylor aimed to be a wife, a partner, and in hushed tones spoke about her plans for her father.
The gray had always let Emma through, but now not a trace of it clung to Taylor, or her dad. They shone as brightly as Sophia herself did.
Her mom was still talking when the clock hit 8:10.
Perfect.
For years, Sophia had only gotten better at tuning her mom's voice out. In her waitress uniform, Gloria kept up a flood of complaints, decrying her daughter's staying out late, sneaking out of the house, and increasingly poor grades. On one level, the parahuman girl knew her mom had a good fucking point. She had zero patience for school shit now, that process made complete with Godfather teaching her on aspects of doing business in the real world. Sophia set her backpack on their grimy little dining room table, pulling out long loops of rope, finally setting a stun gun down on the dirty surface.
"Sophia," Her mom said angrily, "Girl, you have lost your mind. You think I can't fuck up your life, now that you've got a woman's body?" As if her mom even knew what that was. Fat hips, saggy tits, a face that had only gotten more sour as Sophia had grown up. Stringy hair molded to the net she wore at the diner.
Shadow Stalker turned to face her mom, eager to put the bitch in her place, "Not as much as I can fuck up yours."
About a half second of confusion was all Gloria got, before her daughter made her move. Sophia took the stun gun in one hand, pushing it into her mother's side in the middle of another vague threatening statement. Her mom went down like a sack of potatoes, all groans and shaking limbs. Like the Dock men had shown her, Shadow Stalker grinned to herself as she hog-tied her mom, putting the same gag, blindfold, and heavy muffs on her mother that Emma used to wear.
Before she had met Danny, no way could Sophia have lifted her mom. Now, she could, if only barely, pull the older woman into a fireman's carry.
Gloria had to take the bus to work, no family car, and Sophia was careful to check out through the roof to ensure they wouldn't be seen. Tonight was another in a series of opportunities to prove herself to Danny and Taylor, to make up for all the fucking time wasting she had done before the Heberts helped her become her true self.
On the way back from the meeting to her house, Sophia had kept an eye out, like Beans had taught her. She spotted an old car, of the make she needed, tucked in a driveway, all the lights out in the house. Now that she was outbound, the teenager floated down to street level from the top of her house to almost a block away. Her enhanced strength let her portage her mom past a couple side streets to the driveway, and the parahuman girl quickly picked the locks.
The whole way to the car, Gloria was howling into her gag, confused and angry. Now she was scared. Muffled pleas peppered with threats were ignored as she settled her mom in the back seat, then Sophia got behind the wheel. Like popping open the lock, it was only a matter of a few minutes, all that practice with the Merchant proving useful as she put the old car into gear.
Just like that, Shadow Stalker drove off into the night, eagerly anticipating Godfather's approval.
-
It would be easy to just vanish, her and her mother. They were black, in Brockton Bay, and if there wasn't any physical evidence of a crime, the police would probably throw Terry out of the station for wasting their time. But that hadn't been what Danny had wanted to do. He had big plans for the city, and it required mother's nice, non-warrant bearing name to remain in good standing.
It meant that Sophia had needed to call in on behalf of her mother, pleading illness. Gloria hadn't been at the diner long, so when her mother called in to quit, nobody would care, they barely knew her.
The parahuman ditched the car out by the shore, along a long row of warehouses, three other hulks visible just down from hers. She needed to do everything herself tonight, as part of earning trust. She'd be a part of a new family, one that her mom might join, but it would be under her authority for a change. All bonds broken, anything left forged into a tool.
Her mother's weight bore on her shoulders as Sophia trudged up the catwalk to the top of a nearby roof, putting her in position to phase her and her mom, and take off. She controlled her phased fall, over a roadway and past another building, to go through a wall and into the Association lift.
Inside, Danny was waiting, sitting on the sofa with Taylor by his side. Emma was back at the Hebert house, holes stuffed with buzzing vibrators, waiting for her turn to show her acceptance of the new way of things.
"Hey," Sophia grunted, her new body still tired from the long exhausting trip, "I brought you something."
-
"Listen," He directed, "And pay attention."
Danny pulled back then slammed his hips forward, driving his cock in deeper, the woman bent over the table in front of him finally coming to her senses. He had been fucking her, body rippling with his changes, for fifteen minutes. Finally she was calming down enough to keep quiet.
"With you as her mother, of course she turned out like this."
Taylor stood next to him, naked too, as Gloria Hess sobs faded into silence, her body and mind being reborn. Sophia stood back, watching with a complex expression, seemingly content to let him and his daughter do whatever they wanted to the woman that birthed her. The black girl knew better than to take anything that 'Blackjack' said personally, and was observing her mother's reshaping like it was a particularly interesting television show.
Long slow heavy strokes plumbed the depths of the older woman, her body a pale imitation of her daughter's at first, but Danny was working on it. At first Gloria had been a wreck, a victim of middle age, poor diet, and a lack of exercise. Now her big swinging tits were firm in his hand, lifted up on her chest, and while her ass hadn't shrunk much, it was smooth and round now. The older black woman's face had shed deep lines, and Danny could see color coming back to it, a happy dimness in her eyes, the woman a picture of ripened beauty. He felt the warmth in him grow in strength as her wet walls pulled at him, and he pushed that heat into her, giving her the body she so desperately craved.
Gloria Hess had missed being young. She missed being popular, liked, and appreciated. Now her voice moaning out in time with his thrusts dripped like honey, youthful vibrancy animating her porn star body.
Sneering into the woman's ear, Taylor purred, "Your own son won't notice you're gone."
"No," Gloria moaned, her pussy pulling at his cock like a greedy hand, "No, he loves me!" At this point, Danny wondered how effective Taylor's power would be. He was molding Sophia's mother into a high-test sports car, built for sex.
A hand reaches down to cup the woman's right tit, and Danny could feel it plump up a bit further in his hand. Gloria's nipples were like black diamonds. They were taking their time, putting effort and work into their second big family project. All the rust that had built up over the woman's lifetime was being scraped off and blasted away. Sophia was to help keep the Association safe, and now her mother would keep it happy. He put his other arm on Taylor's back, running his fingers through her hair, before dropping his hand to cup her ass.
His fingers dug into tit on one side, soft cheek on the other, a tightening cunt on his cock in the middle, sucking him like a greedy mouth. Life had improved, he could certainly admit that.
"You can get men to look at you like they used to, you just need to accept your place," Taylor added. He had a dim feeling when she spoke like that, like a connection between two batteries from Gloria's ear to her wet pussy around him. The older woman's self-image shifted in her mind, and then Danny's power moved her body to match it.
Younger. Sexier. Rounder.
And the mind was the same. Breaking her of any pride, pulling away any sentiment regarding her son and daughter, replacing it with a craving for male affection. He helped nudge it along, then Taylor would nail the changes shut, forever altering Gloria Hess into an idealized, useful version of herself.
Happier. Gigglier. Sluttier.
Sweat beaded on Gloria's back, as he ran a finger down the groove of her spine, her body panting beneath him. He felt himself getting close. He'd put a baby in both the little teenage sluts they had picked up, and as he looked at Taylor Danny knew he wasn't done, but he also didn't have any desire to go bankrupt from childcare costs. One final brush of his power against Sophia's mother completed things, and then he spent himself.
Amusingly, he felt himself hold back both the Seed of his power, and the seed of his body, something he didn't know he could do. You learned something new every day.
Beneath him, Gloria moaned, a woman transformed. The lines of her face had faded, the stretch marks on her haunches faded into smooth skin, a shade lighter than her daughter's. Sophia was a panther, long and mean, but her mother had become an hour-glass shaped goddess, breasts capped by big dark brown rings and stiff nipples that squeaked as she pulled herself up off the table.
"Soph," The naked woman asked, "Honey, what was I doing?"
Behind him, the girl responded, "Fucking Mr. Hebert, mom, your big job interview." Sophia's eyes twinkled in triumph, hungry both for her own sexual release, and in exultation that she could help Danny and Taylor once again. She eyed her mother, sizing her up as an object of sensual predation.
"Ms. Hess," Danny said, stepping back, "You did well. Please clean me off, and I can tell you the good news."
Peeling her sticky chest from the top of the table, Sophia's mother turned and sat on her heels, opening her mouth to take his slick sensitive cockhead into her mouth. Like a hoover, she began cleaning his prick, as good a blowjob as Danny had ever gotten. Her breasts were big enough to cover her knees in this position, and looking up with her brown eyes, he could finally see where Sophia got her spark from.
"So you'll be quitting your old job tomorrow. Then, you'll drive down to an address Sophia will give you, and you can start."
On one side of Gloria, Taylor sidled up, and Sophia on the other, their bodies a brown and white contrast.
In one ear, the woman's daughter muttered, "You'll be such a hit mom, the boys will be coming back from a big job, and won't you be such a surprise." Sophia began massaging one of the big hanging tits, and Taylor's hands took the other.
"So many cocks, Gloria, all for you. We have it all set up, a bed, a couch, all the touches you'll need to keep them busy all night long."
"And soon we'll have more girls," Danny added, pulling his now spit-polished prick from the woman's sucking mouth. "Aren't you the luckiest woman in the world?"
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