Chapter 10
"Emma? Emma? Are you ok?"
Her mind was a fog of pink blissful clouds, but Emma knew her part well. Her pussy was stretched tight over Danny's rod, his strong arms holding her up as she fucked herself up and down his length.
"Yes," She grunted, "Please daddy, just give him the money, please."
By now, he'd be close to empty. Her father had raised close to a hundred thousand dollars for his daughter's college education, 90% of which was already turned over to her new family. The last bag full of money was going to be turned over today, in a dead drop that Sophia had under surveillance. If he hadn't gone to Carol Dallon, and Emma didn't think he would yet, it would be the last useful thing he would do before he got sorted out, he and Emma's mother.
"Are you ok, sweetie?" Zoe Barnes's voice was tinny through the speaker function of the phone, "We're so worried about you!"
Rough calloused hands worked her tits in time with her protector's thrusts, the hot throbbing meat rod splitting her open. Sophia took it for granted, treating sex like another pat on the back, but Emma exulted. She felt like a queen, an empress, her hair growing long, the rich red deepening as the changes to her body took effect. It had been three weeks since she had been taken, and although it was too early to show, the model took a moment to cup her belly, imagining it swelling with her master's seed. Emma loved her changes, the bigger curves of her chest, the extra weight in her ass and hips as she stalked around the Hebert's house. She was drowning in the decadent joy of it all.
"I'm fine, just do what they say," She got out, before a finger slick with juices slipped between her lips, hooking her cheek. Emma let her tongue hang out, drool running out of her gaping mouth as Danny stretched the second of her holes.
Her mom and dad chattered, trying to sound upbeat, telling her about Anne and her dad's office and mom's hobbies, just going on and on, ranting about nothing. That she had once looked up to her father was proof that it wasn't just the bullying that was sick at the heart of her. Emma hated the thought of the big obnoxious house now, her mother's gaudy taste in clothes. It made her sick, her parents deserved to end up like Sophia's mom, broken and put to good use. Like Emma herself.
"Guh," She got out around the probing forceful digit, "Good mom, I'm glad. I'll see you soon."
Danny cut the call, and leaned back, her back brushing his chest hair as she bounced her body on his lap. Long deep strokes into her body left her gasping for breath, her entire existence focused on the plunging cock of Godfather, a man she had known all her life. The wet sound of him going in and out caused her toes to curl, and she put her small delicate hand over the paw clenching her tit, encouraging him to be even rougher. The sensation of her cunt widening as he thrust inside her was a familiar one by now, but not one that she'd ever get used to. No feeling in the world could compete with her master's glorious cock. Emma luxuriated in the feeling of his hands molesting her chest, the tops of his thighs scratching her ass as her butt bounced up and down in his lap. It felt like safety, security. It felt like home.
"Do you like it, seeing Sophia's mother sucking cock above the bar?"
They had rigged a primitive security system in the makeshift Association brothel, and together she and Sophia had joined the Heberts watching Gloria entertain clients. The black woman had been made over, her whole appearance changed, still very much herself, but huge tits and a broad ass made her look like a centerfold come to life, not from one of the nicer magazines, but a really filthy one. Sophia's mom was a toy now, a sex object, smart enough to run a club and keep the peace, but her mind turned to sex the moment it could. But Emma was special. She wasn't a toy to be shared, to be given out at leisure.
She felt that shameful spark peek out in her mind, from where she had driven it, that shameful sense of joy she got from telling others how weak they were. It had been so, so wrong to use it against Taylor. But Gloria? That cum-guzzling cow? Well that was different.
"Yes," Emma said huskily, her master's pace increasing.
"Do you want to see your mother doing the same?" Danny asked pointedly, "Your sister?"
Her fucking mom hadn't even been strong enough for her dad to tell about her attack, Anne too. They'd be so much happier if Danny could fix them. The thought of her mother, dressed in the filmy outfits that Gloria wore, warmed Emma's heart, that her mom could serve the Association. And Anne was pretty! Almost as pretty as Emme was! It wasn't safe for her to go to college. It would be so much better to have Anne with them, fat and pregnant, down in her bed in the basement.
Just as long as Anne knew who was boss when Danny and Taylor were gone.
And Alan had been too weak to save her. Emma's whole previous family was a disappointment, her new ones were so much better, they'd keep her safe. She'd prove to Taylor that she was sorry, her motivations for the last two years already fuzzy in her mind. The model didn't have clothes privileges yet in the house, and didn't really know if she wanted them, but Taylor let her sleep on the bed at her feet now, not the floor.
Already Emma was proving herself!
"God, you're dumb," Danny said absently, his arms pulling her into him as his cock pushed deep inside her. Emma took her hands and pressed them against her lower belly, as if she could massage him through her own flesh. The strong man took his time, slowly pushing her up and down, savoring his aftershocks as she let use her body like a toy.
Letting herself go was so freeing. Emma remembered being so afraid after the attack, but now, she could just let her mind go blank, any time she fucked Danny, or when she licked a nice sweet orgasm into Taylor. It felt right, natural even, and she giggled in delight as one of his hands clamped hard over soft squeezable titties. Smart, popular, mean Emma had been kind of a bitch. Happy, slutty, dummy Emma slept like a baby now, and loved her life so much.
Finally, he gave her a bit of a push, and happily she dropped to the floor. Hands at her sides, Emma's mouth found his softening length, slimy with their mixed fluids, and began cleaning him. Her hands cupped his heavy sack, her load churning in his round heavy balls. Slowly taking him all the way to the root, Emma used her lips and tongue to scrape all the residue into her mouth, and down her throat. Spots of cum on his thighs and warm, heavy testicles were licked clean too, leaving faint traces of saliva that dried in the cool air of the loft.
The cockhead had tasted like heaven, like it always did. Danny's cum was the frosting on her favorite cake, something to roll around in her mouth, and share with Taylor if she was around, and wanted it, and the redhead couldn't gulp it down first. Feeling a little naughty, Emma swallowed it all quickly, holding her belly, imagining more of her master becoming part of her, his semen becoming her flesh.
The loft was transformed from that first night she had been brought on, new nicer furniture filled the space, and one wall of the main living area was turned into a small office. Taylor was sitting by a desk, and had been doing paperwork, but she always turned to listen in when Emma called her parents.
A strange look of satisfaction sat on Taylor's face, and Emma didn't care to wonder why.
From the ground, Emma gave her bestie a complicated look, knowing better than to try and look contrite, but still unable not let a little sorrow cross into the empty smile she wore most of the time. Still, self control had been her gift, to go along with the bun in her oven. All that fear, anger, and contempt that had roiled inside of her now came with levers, along with all her other emotions.
It had been so scary at first! The hook in her ass had been almost too much to contemplate, Emma simply allowing fear of being taken, fully, to overwhelm her mind. How silly she'd been. Since learning how wonderful Taylor and her daddy were, Emma had been introduced to feelings and experiences she couldn't possibly have imagined before. It had been necessary to teach her how to love again, for real. The red-headed teenager hadn't loved her father, she'd been forced to rely on him. And her mom? Forget it. But now, she knew love was doing whatever Danny and Taylor asked of her.
Now, when it was bedtime, Taylor tucked her hook in and Emma barely squirmed at all.
How freeing it was, to turn almost everything off, and just let herself be of use.
"Whew," Daddy said, getting up. Emma was careful not to call him that too much around Taylor, unless she wanted to end up with the hook in her ass again. It felt good, but she had so much to do!
"That's that," He continued, "The next drop is this Friday, and we take Alan and Zoe then."
"Not weirded out about using your power on Mr. Barnes?" Taylor asked playfully.
Standing naked in the cool air of the loft, Danny shrugged, "It's not a sex thing, or it doesn't have to be, not if I don't need the full blast. I just need to get close to him, and let it cook. You can help with that, can't you slut?"
Emma beamed up a grin on the floor, and her new daddy bent to rub the top of her head, his hand firm but comforting. She sat on her haunches, kneeling on the floor, tits out pressed between her stiff arms, just so happy. Her expression was a vaguely happy blank, content to exist until called upon. There was no competing with the Heberts, but Emma could still rise above Sophia, and anyone else they took. She knew how to be a good daughter, and longed to be attentive in just the right way they wanted her to.
Still, it felt nice when Soph braided her hair, or the hook caught in just the right way to send chills up her spine. Emma would spend the rest of her life having Danny's babies, being his cum dumpster, or just curling around his feet at night. She'd dedicate herself to Taylor, eating her pussy like a starving woman, naked and barefoot, tied up in the basement just like the first night she had arrived.
Nobody would be a better slave than her.
"Ugh," Taylor moaned, "We need to go check in at the Lazarette. Beans is running a drop tonight, and should be coming back with a mixed crew."
"Do we bring her?" Daddy asked, hand on Emma's head, gripping the hair in his fingers and pulling her face to look down at her with such a funny expression.
"No," Taylor said after a moment, "I'm not... hmm. No sharing Emma, and they need protection from Sophia more than she needs it from them. No, let's let Gloria earn her keep tonight. Emma, clean up here, then wait for us. We'll be back to drive home, then tomorrow is the big reunion."
Emma's mind rang with the pronouncement. It proved how much better she was, how safe. Her animated eyes filled with tears as she watched them leave, quiet like a good girl. Emma didn't know it was possible to even be this happy.
She sat in her spot until they left, knowing that they didn't need her input on any more decisions. Once they left, Emma made herself be a little smarter again. It always felt gross. With an annoyed look on her face, she gathered up some cleaning supplies, and tidied up the sight of her lovemaking with Taylor's father. Every cum spot got licked up, but sweat stains got the leather cleaner, until it was all nice and perfect again. Emma knew she had time, and carefully went around scrubbing the floors of the loft until they sparkled, happy to be of service.
Finally she was done, and could be herself again. She lay on a blanket in the corner, and nestled, letting her mind shrink to only a deep sense of happiness, and an easy lust she stoked with a hand between her legs.
Soon her new Mommy and Daddy would start having fun together. And she'd get to watch.
-
"Yeah, that's the point," He said, trying to keep any frustration out of his voice. "It's cheaper, and there's no boat full of fucking cops staring at us the whole time. That shit was bothersome."
Reginald Louis Laborn, Beans to one and all, never held onto a car for long, not when he was using it on jobs. Somewhere out in cow country must be a used car business doing amazing business selling people their boosted rides back, because every whip he'd ever taken had passed hands from a stickman to him, to a fixer that took it upstate to a sleepy little town. Deep down, he suspected every grift in Brockton Bay must have better odds than his. Nobody would make a living doing something that required doing anything that made less sense than this.
"But why the Dock guys? You know half of 'em are flying Empire flags on their little ships."
Pulling into his parking spot, the black man turned to focus all the authority his thirty-six years had given him, "No they're not, not these guys. You know any fucking skinheads that show up and do a hard day's work in your life? Fucking cut that shit out, man. This is the new hot thing coming on, and I'm not letting you boys fuck it up. So smile, drink whatever they hand you, and enjoy yourself."
The three other men in the car all nodded, which Beans knew they would. Loyal men, all long time friends, good soldiers but not much going on upstairs. All his friends that had two brain-cells to rub together had gotten out of the game a long time ago. He was a two-time loser though, and even bleeding hearts would struggle to forgive a man sent down for felony theft in his thirties.
They all stepped out of the battered SUV down on Shoreline drive, both sides of the street lined with dilapidated brick buildings. Technically this was Empire turf, but even he could tell that it wasn't actively monitored. No homeless population to support drug sales this close to the rolling ocean, only failing meager businesses, so nothing to protect. The only thing that might thrive was girls, and the Empire had always struggled on that front. Too 'Off-Brand' to pimp out black chicks, and not much better to do the same with white ones.
On the ground floor was a bar, but the crew boss that had helped them unload the black market shipment, Kurt, was waiting for them by a side door. Leading them up an internal staircase, they entered a fucking cathouse, right out of one of his grandaddy's movies from the 70s.
Lush carpet covered the floor, and some kind of jazz was playing from a sound system in the corner. A pool table was set up, and the other Association men were bent over, laughing and clinking big mugs of something dark together.
Speaking of, an absolute beauty of a woman in a thin filmy dress came from behind a bar, one of those same mugs in her hands. Her hair was in an elaborate updo, the kind that would look fine as wine falling apart as the night got sloppy. Her big tits sat on her chest like headlights, the broad areolas and brown nipples fully visible through the thin fabric, the dress revealed as more lingerie than something you could wear in public. She strutted like she owned the place, but for all he knew, she did. "Evening, fellas. I'm Gloria. I know what Beans here likes, thanks to Godfather, he's on the preferred customer list. But what about you three?"
As the, hopefully, prostitute took his guy's preferences down, he made his way to go kiss the ring. Beans had been told about a remodeled back room, and he walked down a hallway towards the sound of conversation. He went through a door into quite the scene. Godfather had the same loose attitude toward masking that Skidmark had, but the man had sense enough to have it on now, along with Blackjack and Shadow Stalker. The three capes were sitting in an honest-to-god conversation pit, and the gang member joined them, after waiting for a welcoming nod from the man in charge.
"Everything go alright?" The white man asked.
"You didn't ask her?" Beans replied, pointing to Stalker, "She was around."
After a moment of no response, he sighed and continued, "No issues, the boat came in, we did an initial check, then your guys moved it all over. Our stash house van took it to the lockup, they called me on the way over here to confirm it's safe. Among other things we have 16 tinkertech-derived entertainment centers. One might look nice in here, all I'm saying."
"Maybe it would," Godfather said, his smile visible, "Good work. Skidmark and the others are happy to be cut out of things."
His mind still reeled at the thought, "Yeah, they got all pissy when I asked, said that was on you now. At this point, Skidmark has no idea where any of his products are housed, or even what spots we're using to bring things in. If we want to pull the rug out, that's as simple as me blocking his damn phone number."
"You're that sure you'd be safe from Skidmark going on a rampage?" Blackjack asked.
"Shit, if that burnout remembers my last name or address, I'd be shocked. I sure as fuck know he doesn't know their names," He gestured at his friends, having come into the back room with them, all three getting handsy with the increasingly naked Ms. Gloria. "And keep in mind, my apartment is just a safe house. And I didn't tell him, you know, my actual last name. If I just vanish, I'm gone, and he's shit out of luck."
His guys were taking advantage of the woman fully, hands pawing at her now exposed breasts, one man fingering her sopping pussy. For all the aggression, the woman had a satisfied smile on her face, as if this was just the way she wanted to go. 'Damn' Beans thought, 'With Godfather around, maybe it is.'
"Hah!" Shadow Stalker barked, "Fuck, that's amazing. But," Her gaze narrowed, "What's to stop you from pulling that on us?"
For a hot minute, Beans had thought that this 'Stalker' girl was on the menu. He knew better by now. She had a tension to her, like a knife held up in the air. Her eyes were cold, and he shivered, feeling pity for the first man to try and cross the Association.
"It's not our product, Stalker," Godfather added, "Never will be. Beans here pays us to get it on shore, and to keep the police off his back. And, if he chooses, he can pay us to set up safe, stash, or grow houses with trained qualified electricians to do the deed."
Rolling his eyes, Reggie coughed, "I mean, it takes a village to rob a town, yeah? I'll say this, I'd be willing to accept a lot of change if it meant not having to put up with Skidmark all day." Shadow Stalker's face had gotten less sharp as Godfather had explained the deal, and a tightness in Bean's chest faded, but not all the way. Skidmark had been violent, and crazy, but also dumb as a stump. This new system was poised to make him more money, but damn if it didn't feel almost as dangerous.
Shadow Stalker got that look in her eye again that made Beans nervous, "And what if your old boss does go nuts, start knocking over buildings?" It really was a shame that she filled out that black costume so well, tits pushed out, tight broad ass hugged close by the spandex. Unfortunately for the men of Brockton Bay, her body wasn't built for sex, it seemed to be built to fucking kill. Everyone was chill tonight, at least on the outside, except her. Girl needed to relax.
The young girlfriend of Godfather sat on his lap, and his hand was moving very close to turning this party into a very different kind of party. "Hey, all this booze tonight, that fancy bar over there, even these records were all bought at stores," Blackjack replied, "Taxes paid in full. Let the heroes handle him. Then, once the dust settles, we stake out a claim ourselves, Independent Rogues on Retainer, isn't that right?"
That was some grade-A bullshit, but it was bullshit that might help improve his life. "That's the idea."
Beans didn't let his eyes linger on Blackjack, the way they lingered on Shadow Stalker. The girl was friendly, open, but damn. On some level, she terrified him. The longer he was around her, the more Beans felt it, an aura of control, like a pull, a black hole or some shit. Godfather was welcome to her.
Looking over his shoulder, he could one of his guys shooting pool with the Association boys, the other two being led by the hand by Gloria to a back room for what he imagined would be an explosive sexual experience.
Turning back around, his lap was suddenly filled by a dangerous parahuman, Shadow Stalker mimicking the other girl complete with putting her arm around his shoulder. He gave her a weak smile, and she rolled her eyes. "Don't sweat it, Beans, you never look at me like everybody else does." Her breasts were in his face, and all he could was amazement that his attempts at visual discretion were working. Instead of feeling horny, all he could feel his fear, and it must have shown a little on his face.
Godfather seemed a little taken aback, "Uh, we don't have any working boys, but is that something you'd be more interested?"
Shit. "No, I just don't mix business and pleasure."
Thankfully they moved on quick enough, and the subject dropped. It wasn't as if Gloria, or this violent maniac, or even Blackjack weren't attractive. It was just that in that little town upstate that he visited, he had a wife and three kids. Even if he only saw them a few times a month, it was worth it. They had plenty of money, and went to a private school way the fuck out of town.
At heart, he was a one-woman man, at least per zip code. If he got up to something in Brockton, he'd like, a work-wife or something, shit that was hard to come by in this line of work. Seeing with his own eyes what Shadow Stalker had done to that apartment full of Merchants was enough to prevent him from ever seeing her as a sexual object again.
Pulling his attention back to the topic at hand, he smiled and gestured for Blackjack to ask her question again.
"So, why is your name Beans?"
He laughed, "Funny story, do you remember Cars 2?"
-
Chapter 11
From up on the fourth floor of the east side apartment building, Taylor felt a smirk cross her face watching the floating balls of light hovering over the Barnes' family van. The light being put off by the hovering figures were enough to ruin any attempt to use night vision, but she didn't need to see them in detail, it was enough to know they were there.
"Got three on the wing," Taylor muttered, holding up the radio to her mouth. She traded out the now useless night vision goggles for a pair of mundane binoculars. Looking through them, she saw Alan Barnes pull into the parking lot of the abandoned strip mall, his nervous face framed in the driver's seat. She licked her lips in hope, and after a moment felt a jolt of vindication, seeing Zoe, Emma's mother, peek around her husband from the front passenger seat.
"Two in the bush, repeat, two in the bush."
A mile or so away, Taylor knew that Sophia would be moving into position. They had planned tonight carefully, setting the scene, and Alan might have thought he pulled a fast one by bringing in New Wave, they weren't stupid. He bragged about his 'Famous Co-worker' enough times, how could anyone forget.
The costume and mask had felt... important, somehow, as impractical as they were, so in a bright red dress and shiny high heels, Taylor quickly gathered up the surveillance gear, only leaving thee binoculars out to let her keep track of the idling luxury minivan and hovering figures in the sky.
Her radio crackled to life with Shadow Stalker's voice, "Down from ten, on the move."
While the other girl scurried out of range, Taylor counted down the time in her head.
As she got to zero, a fireball burst up into the night sky a mile or so away, bright against even the glittering lights of the city behind it. Even before the rumbling sound hit them, the flying figures descended in a rush, and the back door of the minivan opened, a hulking man pouring out onto the parking lot, joined by another man from the sliding door on the side.
Manpower and Flashbang, joined by Brandish coming out after her husband. The flying figures must be Lady Photon, Laserdream, and Glory Girl. Taylor couldn't see Shielder, or Panacea, but according to what she had read online, that wasn't unusual, the unmasked cape family often left those two behind.
The parahumans were clearly arguing amongst themselves, and after a moment Alan Barnes got out, face red, his contorted mouth and gestures showing just how out-of-control and panicked that he was. After just a few seconds, all the capes began to move out, only Brandish and her husband remaining behind.
Couldn't have that.
"Hit me one more time," 'Blackjack' said with a smile. After only a moment's delay, a second explosion went out, sending a larger fireball up into the night sky, a wave of sound delayed by about five seconds hitting the parking lot. That was time enough for the two remaining capes to take off on foot, racing towards the conflagration demanding their attention.
Leaving Alan and Zoe Barnes alone in a parking lot, ripe for the picking.
Reflecting on how things had gone since her triggering, Taylor had to admit, it could have gone worse. As Alan Barnes pulled the phone up to his ear, she set the binoculars down and packed them away, her long toned legs carrying the teenager down the external stairs of the decrepit apartment building.
Godfather would be directing Alan and Zoe to leave their van, and go to a car stashed behind the strip mall, leaving their cell phones behind. There would be a new burner phone in the burner car, and having their hidden trump card taken away from them should leave them rattled enough to comply with her father's instructions.
There was a second cutout, but Taylor thought that was overkill. Whatever peace of mind bringing the Dallon and Pelham families into this had brought Alan, that had just been torn away. He had a paper bag filled with his last nine grand, and no way to haggle if things went south.
It felt good to have a plan, to be assertive, to be the one that other people had to react to. Once they had Alan on side, he would be able to apply for business licenses, take out loans, all kinds of things that would get him in big trouble if law enforcement came sniffing around. She had no great anger towards Zoe, mom's friend, but Alan Barnes was lucky not to be feeding the fish after tonight.
That fucking asshole had ruined Emma. It had been hard for Taylor, contemplating her ex-best friend at the start of all of this. Sophia had been easy by comparison, she didn't have a complex relationship with her. Helping her dad hollow the cunt out, and build her mind back up in a way that served the Association, that seemed to even the scales.
It had been easy to hate Sophia, and easy to accept her now.
God, Taylor had wanted to forgive Emma, it had taken months to accept that her friend was gone. It was proving equally challenging to grow to love her again.
The remembered sight of the redhead between her legs, tongue out like a dog, licking her way back to grace was a satisfying one, but it still rankled Taylor, rogue memories like meteors crashing through her mind, reminding her of all the fucked up shit that Emma had done. And when the temper took control, and she had Emma bent over her bed, grunting and moaning as Taylor mercilessly fucked her with a strap-on, the bitch didn't even have the decency to look ashamed.
Emma was fuckmeat, now, and couldn't be happier. At first, Taylor had thought to just whore her out, let some of the grungier Association pervs turn her asshole into a bus station, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She felt a sense of responsibility, strangely, to put Emma back on the straight and narrow. The thought of other people interfering in that process seemed… wrong, on some level. An image crossed her mind, of Emma spit-roasted between two dock men, their hands on her tits, squeezing her ass. No matter the configuration, her friend happy, or sad, and the men being rough, or caring, it all pissed Taylor off. Emma was hers.
Her friend had been failed, her parents letting her rot into a spoiled little bitch. Emma just needed help, a strong female presence in her life to straighten her out.
As Taylor got to the ground floor, she raced to the old car she had arrived in, and put it into gear. It wasn't hard to find the Barnes in their own transportation, they had all studied the plan in detail. She followed it for five minutes until it pulled over, a frantic looking Alan and Zoe abandoning their stolen ride for another. Among themselves, they had discussed the possibility of New wave using a tracker or some tinkertech bullshit, but they had discarded the concern. It was very off-brand for the super family.
Running off to chase a random explosion, though, was very on-brand.
They had selected an old Merchant safehouse for tonight, another level of protection in case things went sideways. Beans had steadily been hollowing his old gang out, siphoning off trustworthy men, stopping payment to keep people looking the other way. Taylor wondered how that yellow-teethed fuck would feel when he found out that his gang was made up of three parahumans, none of which could go buy a hamburger without their stench getting them kicked out of the restaurant.
Her father was on a burner phone of his own, talking Alan in. Taylor followed them, and watched from a distance as they pulled behind the old house, the neighborhood in a frightful state around them. No neighbors to run to, no police driving by to step on their fun.
A perfect scene.
She pulled in behind and parked her car, looking at herself in the rear-view mirror.
Blackjack looked back, a hungry grin on her face.
-
"You were the same way at her age!"
Danny knew that wasn't true, but damn if Zoe didn't fall to her knees, screaming into her gag as her bound hands and feet writhed.
Neither she nor Alan had put up much of a fight, not with how quickly Sophia had fallen on them as they walked in. The black girl had raced from the site of their diversion to post up and wait, only beating Danny by a few minutes. Then, moments later, the Barnes parents came in, husband and wife, calling out Emma's name. The girl herself had been hiding in a back room, giggling, happy to earn her place just like Sophia by cutting ties with her past.
They'd be taking Zoe tonight, and leaving Alan a broken man, whole enough to fend off Carol's questions, and begin setting up the Association's deniable legal façade. Eventually it would destroy whatever lawyer attached their name to it, and Danny could think of nobody more deserving than the panicky fucking coward sitting in front of him.
"Do you think she'll be happy, daddy?"
Emma looked like a redheaded incitement to riot, fitted lingerie framing her curvy, soft body, on all fours facing her father. Her hair was a fiery waterfall cascading over her bare back, wild around her face, framing her features like a painting. Her tits looked big on her small frame, high on her chest, aimed like torpedoes at her father. She'd been like that since they had tied up her parents, her mother seemingly forgotten.
"It wasn't right, not to tell your wife, my mother. Not to get me help." Their daughter's face glowed as if lined in red light, the smile on her face cruel. Danny suspected it was the same expression Emma had worn taunting his daughter, and felt a fresh jolt of anger rage through his body.
"I had to protect you," The broken man blubbered, "I didn't want us to become a target."
Stalking over, Taylor bent down to stab Alan through the heart again, "Every choice you made led her here. Led them both here."
His old friend collapsed into himself, bending in half to lie on the floor. Taylor, in her Blackjack costume, stood up and smirked, giving her father a thumbs up. He gestured to Sophia to take Alan out. The goal had been to put Alan into the right state of mind that he'd do anything to keep his wife and daughter safe. Now that they had him, it would be easy to begin filtering legal documents through his office, putting a layer of deniability over their operations. Alan Barnes was an officer of the court, just a divorce attorney, but with a level of access they could use. Or abuse.
Danny had gone over hypotheticals with Jan, the Association's official legal representation, with Gloria taunting him with promises of discreet sexual favors upon request. That had given him a roadmap, a set of discrete goals to aim for, to use Alan up like a bucket of water.
Once the bucket ran dry, well. That probably wouldn't be a good day for Alan.
The man himself was dragged from the room by Sophia, the girl who had saved Alan's daughter now the one that had turned her into the sex-kitten slut that was staring into his wife's eyes. Danny's pet killer would drop him off back at his car, and Alan would go home, call New wave, and tell them it had all worked out. They'd have Zoe and Emma on the line to thank the hero team, too.
Then Alan Barnes's life would begin to implode, starting with him selling his house.
But for his wife, well, Danny had to admit, his wife's old friend did look nice this way, tied up with both of their daughters crawling all over her. Since Alan had left, Emma had turned to her mother, suddenly all hugs and kisses. Both almost naked, the contrast between the two girls was extreme. His Taylor looked like how her mother looked in Danny's wildest dreams, tall, imposing, her hair a dark crown on her head. By comparison, Emma had regressed in a way, her curvy almost obscene body offset by her cute and endearing face. The redhead was still on all fours, but now she faced the side of her bound mother's face, almost close enough to kiss.
"Emma, baby," Zoe said in a weak voice, "You don't have to do this."
The woman's eyes were desperate, but not for escape, just for an end to the suffering. Between the two girls touched by Danny's power, she looked like a hag, despite objectively being quite pretty. Earlier, Taylor had confided in Danny that between the two, Zoe was the tougher one, the one that his daughter would need to work harder to crack. No surprise there.
Taylor's voice dripped with a mix of anger and lust, "She's choosing this and so much more." The brunette teenager had kept most of her costume on with Alan in the room, but now she was free to fully strip down. His daughter began pulling her arms out of the tight red dress, exposing her chest one breast at a time, enjoying the slow process of revealing herself to the room.
"She's such a better mommy than you were," Emma said, the almost naked slut crawling behind her mother, pulling the older woman up to focus her attention on the performance. The youngest Barnes' delicate fingers lifted her mother's chin, their faces separated by only inches. Emma's skin was pink, her body feverish with desire, her hard red nipples capping crinkled pink areolas. She used her hands to explore her mother's body, and Emma's pussy ground wetly against the older woman's ass.
Turning in place, 'Blackjack' let the dress slowly fall from her back, hanging on her backside for a moment before the sparkly material pooled on the floor. His daughter stepped out, her high heels still on, and began to dance to music only she could hear. Taylor had foregone any undergarments, and her nudity was like a slap in the face to Zoe, Emma's mother's face was a stormy mix of fear and confusion. The dancing girl moved like she was possessing, a growing line of arousal sparkling in the focused light of the loft.
It was primal, a dance of triumph, and Danny felt in his soul that they had won a great victory for Taylor. As Alan had blubbered, and Zoe had begged, any vestige of fear that Emma had held over his daughter burned away. His daughter's hips flashed by Zoe's face as Taylor turned, her hair falling as she knelt to kiss Emma, both girl's lips meeting in a wet embrace.
Behind her mother, Emma gathered their special surprise. Taylor had taken her pet to go buy a strap-on, and while Zoe was mesmerized by the twirling figure of the oh-so-familiar woman with the rich brown hair, her daughter was putting it in place, winking up at Danny and giggling quietly to herself.
"You poor woman," Danny said, engaging with Zoe for the first time. "Just dumb fucking luck to end up married to a man who'd keep you in the dark about your own daughter."
He leaned in, and felt that fire in himself connect with his old friend's wife. Danny felt that need in her, to be in charge, to be respected, acknowledged, and appreciated. He molded that, fanning the flames of sexuality in her heart. The man could sense nascent attraction to women, a desire to be seen to be attractive, a willingness to commodify her own body, and expanded these to become her new core drives. Unlike Gloria, his first attempt, Zoe got the benefit of Danny's experience. He kept her mind mostly the same, good dutiful Zoe, the proper housewife.
But now, filled with a burning lust, a need to go out and project sexuality into the world. The thought of needing Alan to pick up the garage before letting him touch her transformed into a need to sell her body to any Association man that asked. The pride in a well-kept house molded into a need to make their growing private brothel into a den of pure unrelenting debauchery. Any love for Alan, thinned by time and familiarity, burned and replaced by a craving to become a disgrace to her former self.
Zoe Barnes had loved being and wife, and would still, the gang's slut-wife. Loving and caring in a way that would slake the lust of a half-dozen men a night.
Carefully Danny touched the place in her mind where she pictured her daughters, both always her little girls no matter how old they got. He layered lust over familial affection, and felt that bond become twisted and perverted in all the right ways.
Then, as he was feeding fire into her heart, Zoe gasped, her numbed mind began feebly protesting as Taylor produced a set of scissors, and began cutting her clothes off. Roughly, his daughter cut and sliced first the jacket, then shirt and bra, leaving Alan's wife still attractive tits hanging free in the air of the room. The bindings were cut away as well, leaving Zoe free to move, but she stayed still on the ground, still rocked by her changing mind. Behind the woman, her own daughter was doing the same, gleefully slicing clothes free, running a hand along her mother's legs as more and more flesh was exposed.
Zoe shook her head, a dim memory of thinking this was wrong warring with a growing heat that felt so right. Danny saw Taylor roll her eyes at him, both Heberts amused by Zoe's pointless defiance, and his daughter took the woman's head in her hands. Loud slaps echoed in the room as Taylor forced her old babysitter to motorboat the brunette's big new tits, earning a sharp laugh from both girls at the woman's conflicted expression.
At last, Emma tossed a cleanly cut set of panties off to the side, perhaps as a keepsake, and sidled up to put her knees between her mom's. They had been soaked with arousal, the older woman's body betraying what her mind may not have realized yet. Emma's hands explored the pale broad orbs of her mother's ass, now smooth and round, and she squeezed them and giggled, seeing the pink handprints left behind.
"You wouldn't let your husband sacrifice more than you, for Emma, right Aunt Zoe?"
Just as Taylor finished speaking, she and Danny took their masks off. At the same moment, behind her mother, Emma put her hands on the soft, warm hips of her mom and began to slide the strap-on inside, the small plastic cock picked for ease of entry, not for maximum abuse. Emma's tits lay on her mother's back, the warm heavy weight of them pushing down while her daughter's hips marched forward. Still, Zoe struggled, but her inarticulate cries were mixed with moans and grunts, and Danny could see her tongue hanging from her open mouth.
Emma reached down and squeezed her mother's growing tits hard, and Danny put his hand on the girl's head, gently reprimanding her. "Go easy, Ems. Your mom needs our love now, not abuse."
That would come later.
A mixture of dull fear and sharp elation seemed to war in Zoe's mind, but Danny silenced it with a kiss, finally satisfying a curiosity he had wanted to indulge for years.
Pulling back, he looked into Zoe's eyes, "You like this. You crave it."
Empty-eyed, she nodded, the frown she'd worn all night crumbling into a smile.
"How can it be wrong when it feels so good?" Taylor purred into Zoe's ear, "Tell her, tell Emma how good it feels."
Surging up, Zoe began bucking back in time with her daughter's thrusts. A look crossed her face, the thought of being fucked by her youngest daughter finally coming fully into focus, then becoming accepted, then finally craved. The woman's moans become rich, and untempered by any hesitance.
"Fuck mommy, baby, that's wonderful," It was Zoe's voice, but the tone was shockingly eager, more lustful than Danny had ever heard the proper woman before, "Grab my hips hard, Emma, that's what I like." His wife's old friend had long hair, strawberry blond, and it danced along her back as she bucked like a five dollar whore. To his delight, as Emma reached again for her mother's tits, Zoe cooperated, turning her body to give her daughter more access, the woman seemingly wanting the abuse.
'Godfather' stood, his mask in his hand, and stepped back. Tonight was about Zoe being broken, giving them another woman to help run the Lazarette. Already, Gloria was managing a half dozen street walkers, bringing in steady cash, and leveling out the weekly tide of cash brought in, and money going out.
"It's nice to see," Taylor said, standing behind him. He felt her hands across his chest, and settle on the hardness bound beneath his pants, "A little mommy and daughter bonding."
In front of them, Emma had a determined expression on her face, fucking her mother with abandon. Zoe was howling, pulling one of her daughter's hands to squeeze her mother's tits, both Barnes women lost to lust. Danny felt delicate fingers move to unzip his pants, and let it happen, smiling to himself at what he had wrought.
"You did this, dad," Taylor said quietly, her soft hand reaching into the zipper and finding his length. "You helped make this happen."
Her grip was firm, but gentle, and at first her pace was slow in contrast to the fevered coupling going on in front of them. "Thank you for your gifts, daddy. I love you, too." Taylor's fingers were silky-soft, and the feel of her digits tugging up and down was better than Danny could have possibly imagined. Annette had only done this twice, and never with such loving adoration. Did he truly have a deeper bond with Taylor than her mother?
Danny grunted, "Oh, that's amazing, Taylor, baby, just like that." He let it happen, scared to move, letting his little girl set the pace. Her hand began to move more quickly, soon matching Emma and Zoe's rapid fucking, and then he felt himself get close.
Next to him, Taylor looked beautiful, her bare skin beaded with sweat from the exertion of the night. Her eyes darted from his own needful face to look at the work of art they had crafted before them, a portrait of forbidden love, a daughter fucking her mother into being a sexual servant. The lust he had felt watching his own daughter dance had been potential that now turned to action, his cock rock hard in Taylor's grip.
A second hand joined the first, and he realized that Taylor had embraced him from behind. He felt her humping herself on his hip, both her hands on him, one tugging and the other ever-so-gently cupping his balls.
He came, long ropes of cum spurting out, covering the lewd bare bodies of Zoe and Emma, both women laying over each other in sexual exhaustion. The streams spurted over their tits, now pressed together as they faced each other, kissing like long-lost lovers. Emma licked her mother's neck, and Zoe moaned, just as Taylor lifted her fingers to her mouth,licking them clean, her stare into his a promise of so much more to come.
Tonight was a good fucking night.
-
"Uh, yes, that is me, I am Bernard Veder."
Things were not looking good tonight, not if things were going pear-shaped this early.
The high-school student had on one of his dad's old work shirts, and was using his old Dockworker's Association card to get into this private club. The internet had been spiraling in rumors that there was some kind of secret new brothel out by the docks, and that rumor had sparked something in his memory. Around him, the night was dark, cloudy, and cold, a storm rolling in from the sea. He was alone, farther from home than he'd ever been by himself, the complex combination of walking paths and busses noted on some paper he had folded into his wallet. It had been hard, getting out here without tipping off his mom, but he hoped it would be worth it.
His dad had run off when Greg was little, leaving just him and his mom, but she had kept all his old junk in the attic. He used to play with that stuff when he was younger, and so Greg went exploring. Tonight's disguise were the fruits of that labor, a uniform from a stevedore company, and a yellowed old Association ID that Greg had altered using instructions from the internet, making it look like it expired next year. He loved his mom, even if she could be a bit overbearing, but as he put on the borrowed clothes Greg had only felt anger. But this way, even if his dad had never done a thing for their family before, he helped make this possible.
The guy at the door was big, but didn't seem angry, more amused.
"And you're a senior technician?"
Greg swallowed, trying to deepen his voice as much as he could, "You know it. Working hard, or hardly working, right?"
The man sighed, "Don't move or I'll toss you into the bay." Greg didn't, and the doorman began patting him down, treating him quite a bit more roughly than he had the men who had been in line ahead of the student. "Ok pal. You're clean, and I don't really care that you're using that card. I remember your dad, and I figure anybody related to him needs all the help they can get. Have fun."
Frick. It never occurred to Greg that people here might know his dad, that's nuts. His mom had never even shown him any pictures, all he had ever found was the ID card. Over the years, Greg had slowly seen himself grow into that man, still young, but with a strong resemblance. It hadn't been a happy realization, but at least he wasn't a total musclehead like his absent old man. Of course, Greg also didn't make friends easy, keep his balance all that well, or have the best vision in the world. Tonight he was putting on an impression of what his dad had been like, based on the handful of stories his mom had told him. So far, so good.
Greg put in a thin smile, and tried to puff out his chest, "Uh, thanks."
Quickly moving inside, he felt his heart beating. Tonight was the night! He would lose his virginity to a hot babe prostitute! That beardy guy on the internet said that sex was intrinsically transactional, so Greg didn't even have to feel bad about it. Even so, he hadn't wanted to find an ABB place, he had seen a pretty upsetting 20/20 about those, and according to people at school an Empire hooker would probably talk all about White Replacement Theory while you were doing her, which also seemed like a turn-off.
Passing through the beads into the club, he felt a mix of disappointment and surprise. It was still mostly dudes, just like the line outside. There were girls, ladies really, and with a shock he realized they were mostly nude! A sexy redheaded woman was dancing in a circle of men, and there were maybe ten other girls in the room too. Most of them were younger, but they all looked happy and super self-determined. Dumb television news, always lying to him.
Sparky would never believe it! Or care probably.
"Go to the bar," A man said from a long couch, laughing at Greg's nervous expression, "Speak to Gloria."
The man extended a hand, pointing up at an older black lady with giant jugs, watching over the whole place. The lady had her hands on her hips, her posture one of silent approval. He could see girls glance at her, and 'Gloria' would either nod or shake her head. Greg did as he was told, he was good at that, and approached the woman who gave him a sigh and a hard stare as he approached.
"This a prank?"
Why did people keep asking Greg that? "Uh, no ma'am. I am just looking to um, you know. Get a woman."
"Honey," Gloria, apparently, replied, "If I set you up with Z or me, you'd end up crippled. Let me see if that new girl is available, she's more your speed."
The older woman began to move out from behind the bar, but she turned, Greg along with her, as a loud explosion sound came from out in the street. The windows of the second story space were covered by a thick brightly painted curtain. All the men in the big room, and the few women, all moved up to crowd the windows, peeking from behind the heavy fabric.
"Shit," A man said, "That's the fucking Empire."
Gloria, the Chief Prostitute or whatever, turned to another mom-aged woman and grimaced, both of them moving to the back of the room, a tide of men pushing past them to the front door. Greg was swept up with them, pulled out down the chairs into the street in time to see the friendly doorman from earlier catch a punch to the face by a skinhead.
To his shock, he could see Rune, a fucking Empire Cape, standing in the middle of the street, a chunk of pavement ripped clear from the ground and smashed into the top of a car. Oddly, the cape seemed conflicted, her body language hesitant, but the Empire goons around her more than made up for her reluctance to engage. At least a dozen men had piled out of two vans, and had already claimed a number of victims, locals battered or outright unconscious on the ground.
"I hear things are looking up for the Docks," One man said, his Empire tattoos visible on his bare arms. He seemed to be expecting Rune to do something, but didn't wait long until he pushed on, addressing the teeming mass of people fleeing the area. "You all might need to look for somebody to protect you."
The man pulled a bottle of some kind out of his pocket, but before he could light it, a brick sailed through the air and hit him in the head. Greg rushed to find a hiding spot, goggling as a swarm of enraged men came from the direction of the piers, Dockworkers, bearing tools and pipes. The Empire men were outnumbered three to one, and were quickly swarmed.
Greg laughed, a mixture of nerves and faint city pride, shaking his fist as the first van started to pull away, a forklift angling in from an alley and spearing the side of it, sending both vehicles tumbling. Rune had vanished, but a knot of Empire men were trying to make their way to the second van, swinging chains to keep the incensed locals at bay.
"Shit," Greg muttered to himself, "I gotta get out." He looked around for an escape, deciding that tonight may not be the best opportunity to shed his V-card.
Moving quickly, he kept himself low to the ground as he tried to edge down the street away from the sound of the violence, but just as he began to lose sight of the altercation, he heard a cheer.
Looking back, he saw the van careening out of control, the back of it on fire, a single skinhead driving it, his head bloody.
Greg froze, indecision rooting his feet to the ground.
As the truck clipped a parked car, it toppled, burning gas and debris falling everywhere. A spare tire broke from the back, and bounced at Greg, looming larger and larger in his field of vision.
It struck him in the chest, sending him flying through a nearby window, and as his vision dimmed, Greg's mind swam with images of glistening jewel-encrusted canes and long, purple sedans.
-
Chapter 12
Rarely had Danny Hebert seen so much activity going on in the middle of day, here on Shoreline drive. Typically at mid-day there were plenty of people around, but all their cars would be in parking lots, Dockworkers out on the piers unloading freight, and the people who lived and worked in the area in the old brick walled buildings that lined the street.
Today, it was a vast ocean of news vans, police cars, and ominous PRT SUVs.
"Mr. Hebert, do you accept the Empire's explanation that the individuals involved in last night's attack were acting as a rogue element?"
In fact, Danny knew that they had been sent by Krieg, Kaiser's chief lackey, via Rune but they had been given very different orders. As Head of Hiring, Danny had been loud and proud about all the new business coming into the docks, sending out press releases, media packages, and good old fashioned word-of-mouth bragging. Once that had gotten back to Rune's bosses, they had sent her back to the docks to collect protection money commensurate with their new success.
"I do not," Danny said, voice wavering in anger, "Two men were hospitalized last night, and one died, and even if they were all skinheads, it's a blight on this city that this kind of thing can happen at all." The reporters in front of him at the press conference were quick to note his words down.
He had been working with Rune since that first confrontation, letting a trickle of his power into her each time. She wasn't a purely evil girl, just someone who made the wrong turn at each fork in the road, and had let her head get turned around. As the low man on the Empire totem-pole, she had the shittiest areas to collect from, the Docks deservedly among them, and had to scramble every month to make own packet to pass up the chain.
Offering her a helpful hand hadn't required much, just patience to tune out her racially-charged whining.
"Mr. Hebert, what do you think of the police's decision to decline prosecution against your Dockworkrers who assaulted the injured men last night?"
Danny suppressed his smile, putting a frown on his face, "I don't call that assault, sir, I call that self-defense. It wasn't the Association, good hard working men of the city, the salt of the earth, that went into the double-wides and dive bars of the Empire to cause trouble. They came to us, along with the 'Rogue Element' Rune. I reject that explanation, if she had gotten what she wanted, the subjugation of the men here at the docks, nobody thinks that the Empire would be scrambling to distance itself from the attack."
It wasn't crude, but effective, stacking the scene today. Behind him were ten other senior association men, all white. Danny had carefully selected them, the qualified, worthy, and most important at the moment, the same color as the group that the Empire supposedly protected. Black, Asian, and female members would just have to forgive him for leaving them out for the sake of political expediency and optics.
On the television, the rank and file of the Empire would see working men, as humble as anyone could ask, and they would wonder what the fuck was the point of the entire organization if it meant destroying something like the Association.
A voice from the back belonged to one of the internet journalists, something Danny still wasn't totally clear on, "What will you do if Rune comes back?"
"Bitch ain't fireproof," One of the men behind him said, causing the traditional journalists to wince, Danny keeping his own face still, hoping it had gone out live.
"People said she got hurt," He said in a quieter voice into the microphones set up in front of him, "And some folks said she got thrown into the bay. I hope not, because then the police can't put her on trial." He cleared his throat, aiming to end on a high note.
"It's a shame when the honest people of the city have to simply accept criminal behavior as part of their lives. Because the docks were preyed upon by a single Parahuman, and it wasn't the site of a cape throwdown, we can't even apply for emergency financial aid. That's a travesty!"
Rune had come to him, crying about how she had been told to come back in force, to collect from everyone in her area until she had her due. Krieg had been careful to tell her though, not to be violent, not to cause trouble. That would come later, to anyone that wouldn't pay, quietly and discreetly in a way that wouldn't get on the news. So Danny had told her to tell her men to do the opposite. Come in hot, angry, threatening everyone they could see.
It was a risk, he knew, but she had told him that they wouldn't open fire right off the bat. The gang rarely did, at non-capes, they didn't need to. They'd rough people up, maybe hurt some bad, give the locals at the docks the kind of treatment the Empire usually reserved for Black and Asian neighborhoods that nobody in the city gave a shit about.
So Rune did as she was advised, leading her underlings in hot and heavy. Unfortunately for them, they arrived just at shift-change time, a time at night when the streets went from mostly empty to teeming with dock workers looking to burn off steam after a hard day's work.
His trap had worked like a charm. Sophia had managed to get Rune out, safely stashed at the loft, and thus no one last night had been verifiably hurt by a cape. Just a good old-fashioned turf war, one that if the Empire retaliated against publicly would make them look like the violent fucks that they were. Danny knew there would be blowback, but this was the only solution he could see against the Empire. Degrade the public's willingness to accept their bullshit.
"I intend to go to the mayor, Senator Greengrass, the governor, I'll go tell anyone that will listen. The people of the city don't have to accept being serfs, trampled underfoot. Thank you, and if you have any additional questions, please submit them to my office."
Turning, he let a smile emerge on his face, prompting the other men to join him. From behind, it would look like what it was, a group of men united in purpose, happy to be pushing back against the dark forces underlying the city. Danny knew that the reporters behind him would have questions to spare, but Taylor could handle them, she was doing well as the Association's new administrative assistant.
Hands clapped his back as he went back into the Association hall, the clamor of the street fading as he walked down the hall to his office. Alone for the first time in hours, Danny walked into his office and closed the door behind him.
"Holy shit," He quietly muttered to himself, fear finally trickling into his expression, "It fucking worked."
-
"If Panacea wasn't around, we'd be doing this at Brockton General Hospital."
The man driving their car was a low-level Association member, and today he had been 'hired' to drive Taylor and Sophia to do some errands, notably visiting a school friend who had been hurt in last night's attack.
Sophia rolled her eyes, her track suit making quiet scritchy sounds as she leaned forward in the back seat, "What the fuck was Greg Veder even doing there?" The black girl's tits were in especially fine form today, and Taylor idly thought about what her brown nipples might look like pierced.
"Gloria said he snuck into the Lazarette," Taylor snickered, "He missed getting lucky by about thirty seconds."
Both girls stuck their tongues out, neither wanting to imagine their classmate in anything less than a parka and floppy hat. The car stopped in front of a prime example of Brockton's dated middle class, an old detached home, roof not quite sagging, white paint chipped on the clapboard siding. The Association man turned to address both his charges.
He craned his neck, one arm extending to hold the passenger side headrest, "You two sure you want me to stay behind?"
Sophia sighed while Taylor patted the man's arm, "It's for the best. He'll have a panic attack at seeing two girls in his house, then we can leave."
Both of them were in civilian clothes, Sophia in her tracksuit, Taylor in one of her mom's old professor outfits, a pencil skirt and tight top. She had on a jacket to obscure the lines, but even still, she looked like a woman much more than a girl. Even her mother hadn't filled it out like she did, and neither had Annette turned Danny head the way her daughter could. Following a bit behind her, Sophia looked like a sullen student following a teacher more than she looked like a peer. They both opened their doors to step out into the street, then walked together up to the door.
Ringing the bell, it only took a moment for the door to open, "Yes," A still attractive older woman who didn't seem like the mother of a pathetic weirdo said, "Can I help you?"
"Hi, Ms. Veder, I'm Taylor."
Next to her, Sophia chimed in with her own name.
"Until recently we were friends with Greg," Taylor continued. "We both work out near the docks, and wanted to check in on him."
The woman, already looking a little frayed, clasped her hands together in an expression of joy, "Oh, that's... that's wonderful. None of his other friends came to visit. Let's go say hello." Looking at her, Taylor could see that her expression was drawn, and she had bags under her eyes. The lady must have taken her son home from the hospital and hadn't had a chance to sleep yet. She had on a housedress, but by now it looked as wilted as its wearer.
Greg's mom's eyes filled with tears, and both girls immediately regretted giving in to Danny's suggestion. Her father had managed to sit on all reports of injured Association men, and the brothel girls knew better than to go to the press about anything, but a strange kid who had his legs pulped by a speeding car was something that might hurt the Association as much as the Empire.
Her dad didn't want any uncontrolled variables, and lucky for him, his daughter knew the injured party.
And unlucky for Sophia, he didn't want Taylor going alone.
They both followed the woman inside, and their impression of the home changed. The interior was very well kept, floors and walls clean, furniture nice, even an expensive television in the living room. Taylor revised her estimate of Ms. Susanna Veder, as the use of urban camouflage outside truly was effective. No junkie worth his crack would bother breaking and entering here.
"Greggie!" Susanna called out up the old wooden staircase, "You have friends here, checking up on you." Turning to the two girls, she looked apologetic.
"After that lovely Panacea healed him, the hospital discharged him quickly. Ever since, he told me to stay downstairs while he played with his father's old tools in his room." Taylor and Sophia shared a puzzled look while the woman turned to face the stairs again, "Greggie! Please come down."
They all heard a loud thump, then what sounded like a series of high-pitched mechanical whines, then after a moment Greg's annoying voice called out, "What? Is my Dauntless Curry done yet?"
"Greg Knightrider Veder!" Susanna called out in a scandalized tone, shooting her guests an apologetic look, "Come down here right now, you have guests."
A few moments of awkward silence and then the sound of a door opening and closing, then footsteps down the hall. Greg turned the corner at the top of the stairs, staring down at the two of them like they were the weird ones, not him.
"I'll leave you all to it, have fun!" His mom said, turning away. After an extended silence, Greg let a huge smile across his face.
"Want to come see something fun?" Greg gestured for them to come up the stairs, and reluctantly, they did.
-
"Shit," Taylor said again, hands on her hips, looking at all the detritus in Greg's bedroom.
Sophia did not have the patience for this, "You fucking loser," She started, "All we wanted was to come find out how you snuck into that private club, and then make sure you would keep your mouth shut about getting hurt. We weren't prepared for... this."
Her flat affect was contrasted by the riot of color splayed over Greg's bedroom. The walls had a layer of Anime girl and video game posters on them, but now over that, a recent addition, were schematics of various devices and objects. Scattered on the floor were a pile of power tools, half of which were disassembled, and a collection of household electronics, all in pieces.
"But hey, I can like, go back, keep the Docks and the working girls safe. I mean, that's what you all are doing down there, right? You two, and Emma Barnes, Sparky told me that Julia told him that Louisa told Brad that you guys had gone off to become hookers together."
Greg's smug look was immune to their suddenly intensely annoyed expressions. "So I can put on my coat, and my cane, and come down to you know, keep out undesirables." He held the robe in one hand, the other holding the long stick.
Sophia felt a headache coming on, "You look stupid!"
The bright purple garment was lined with fur, seemingly taken from a boa used by his mother in an old Halloween costume. The robe was long, seemingly long enough to drag the ground when Greg wore it, and heavy, according to the boy himself it had a kind of forcefield attached. The cane was equally tall, at least five feet from top to bottom, the head of it the glowing front half purple puma lunging forward, sparks between its teeth as Greg thumbed a button along the shaft of the obvious tinkertech device.
"You bitches are safe, now that Dolemite is here," Greg said, sending shivers down their spines, "Just gimme my mon-"
Sophia reached out, phasing her arm through the staff and taking the chattering boy by the throat. She looked at Taylor for approval, who gave her a nod.
"If you ever imply I owe you anything, I'll rip your dick off," Sophia said flatly, cutting him off mid speech.
"Same," Taylor added.
His face began to turn purple, and Sophia noticed that his legs were kicking, she had begun to lift him without being consciously aware. Deciding that killing the man that Danny had sent them to placate was a bad idea, she set him down, patiently waiting for his coughing fit to end.
Catching his breath, Greg didn't even give her the satisfaction of looking scared, "Oh dip, you guys are capes too! Oh man, that's awesome. We should team up."
Taylor suddenly smiled, her eyes narrowing to a point. "Yes, Greg. Let's do that."
-
"Does he know how to do email, or find the internet?"
Dinner had been a treat, he thought, Emma and Sophia doing the bulk of the work while he had relaxed with Taylor in their living room.
"God, dad," His wonderful girl said, her feet twitching in his hands as he massaged them, "Of course, me too, and Sophia. Kurt too, you need to get with the times."
His fingers dug in, working tension out of his daughter's feet, low moans of pleasure coming from her throat as he worked his hands.
"That's fine, then. If you say he's trustworthy, we can all meet 'In Costume' and bring him on board."
It was just them, Danny wanting to spend some quality time alone with Taylor tonight. The girls were downstairs after cleaning the kitchen, and he put them out of his mind. His daughter was clothed, technically, a thin pair of shorts over a thong below the waist, her braless tits hanging free in a half-shirt on top. He could see the whale tail coming out the back, and the elastic of the thong clinging to her hips above the waistline of the shorts, and had to physically restrain himself from pushing things too quickly. His daughter's breasts rolled on her chest as he rubbed her feet, and he imagined how they'd feel in his hands, moving on from the massage. Taylor was on her back, head propped on a pillow, her feet in his lap on the other side of the couch.
"I didn't even need to change anything," Taylor said with a vague look of disgust, "And I think he's a little horny for his mom."
His thumb pressed into the sole of her left foot, causing her eyes to cross in pleasure, "That's enough about him. Tonight, I just want to be with you." One hand stayed on her foot, but the other crawled up her leg, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles up past her knee.
Taylor stuck her tongue out, laughing a little, but her legs began to fully separate, splayed on the couch. Danny could look up between to a glistening wet spot on the shorts, up past the valley between her big tits, to her beautiful smiling face. "Fine by me, daddy. I've been hoping to get you alone."
Most mornings, he woke up with a sucking mouth on his prick, either Sophia's chocolate face looking up, or the peaches and cream beauty of Emma. Each time, as his mind came to in such a lovely way, he'd reach over to hug his daughter, their lips meeting in a kiss. It was a surreal and intoxicating experience, his tongue wrestling with Taylor's while at the same time, a hot wet mouth brought him to orgasm.
It was so easy to swap them in his mind. Taylor, bouncy curly dark brown hair, glasses steaming up, his hot rod throbbing in her throat. His cum pouring out of her mouth, dripping down the mounds of her breasts, his other two girls sucking at her nipples, the semen adding a spice to the flavor of his daughter's flesh.
"Oh, god dad," Taylor grunted, and he realized that in his daydreams, Danny had pressed his thumb against her panty-clad pussy. The lips were being pushed in a little circle, the clit as well, as her thighs clamped against his forearms. He could feel the damp cloth beneath his thumb, smearing her arousal up and down his daughter's parting lips. Moans spilled from Taylor's mouth as he scratched gently through the cloth, teasing her entrance. Her own hands had pulled her shirt off, breasts dropping free one at a time, each orb facing him, her palms now gripping her tits, pinching the nipples in time with his rubbing. Emma had bigger tits, and Sophia's were nice too, but he had made Taylor's body perfect just for him.
"Taylor," Danny muttered, his heart racing. "Get over here."
Like lightning, she shot up as he withdrew his hand from between her legs, lifting his hips enough to pull his boxers down to his ankles. His cock pointed straight up, like a missile, and on her heels on the couch, his daughter stared at it like it was the most important thing in the world.
Without saying a word, he reached up with his open hand, reaching into her hair. The soft locks intertwined in his fingers as he pulled her face down to his side, Taylor going onto all fours next to him on the sofa, her ass high in the air, her hair and tits hanging below, visible under her smiling face. In the movement, she kicked her shorts and panties off, the split of her soft plump ass visible over her back as her head lowered.
"Good girl," Danny whispered as her mouth hung open, drool dripping onto the throbbing purple tip of his prick. She kept herself still, letting him direct her body like a toy. Slowly, he pushed her down, her soft wet lips finally moving of their own accord as they closed over his cock.
They both shook in unison, a united jolt of pleasure shared between them, bodies chained by the taboo perversion of the act. Since that night where he had fully seeded Sophia, they hadn't dare get close like that again. But the danger of the Empire attack had shattered his resolve.
Life was short, and Danny wanted to fuck his daughter.
Taylor moaned, balancing on one hand as the other worked at her cunt, fingers curling into her vagina, dragging across her core. She was gagging on him, his long thick cock being assaulted by her mouth and tongue, his darling girl aching for him to cum. She began moving of her own accord and he let her, bobbing up and down with a desperate need. He felt his firmness rise to a point that it edged on painful, the sight and sound of Taylor driving it mad.
If he didn't stop it soon, he'd fill her gullet with cum, and tonight he had a different place in mind.
Putting his hand back in her hair, he lifted her face, her gaping mouth and seeking tongue pulling free of him with a pop.
"Taylor," Danny said huskily, "Bend over the coffee table, and spread your ass."
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The glass was cool on her tits as they pressed down, any discomfort occluded by the sweet ache of pulling her cheeks apart, her nakedness exposed fully to her father. Behind Taylor, she felt a finger coated in a cool liquid begin to push into her hole, pulling another long moan out of her abused throat.
"Daddy, oh, it's so good!"
She couldn't see a thing, her awareness shrunken to a point of light focused on the floor in front of her. All she had was the sensation she got from her body, the scratch of her father's hairy legs against her thighs, his digits stretching out her anus, a warm hand on her lower back helping him balance.
Taylor knew what was coming, and turned her head in the direction of the little camera that had been set up in the corner of the living room. All past grievances aside, the girls downstairs needed to see this, to know what Danny Hebert looked like fucking the ass of the woman he loved best.
"Oh," She muttered, her father's fingers pulling out in a rush, the sudden emptiness its own kind of pleasure.
"God, you're amazing," He said, then it happened.
A hot spear plunged into her darkest place, and stars filled her darkened eyes. "Guh, guh, guh," was all that Taylor could manage by way of encouragement as her father began plowing her, his long cock filling her more than any toy, tongue, or her own fingers could ever manage.
A sharp crack resonated in the small room as her father's hand slapped her thigh. Taylor felt her face melt even further as his hand gripped the stinging flesh, palm and fingers pink in her mind, picturing the mental map of her dad's use of her body.
Back and forth, the front of her thighs bounced against the wooden table as Danny claimed her. His hands roamed over her body like he owned her, as of course he did, the entirety of her his to do with as he pleased. Her tits were mashed into the unforgiving cold flat glass of the table, his hands focusing on directing her body bouncing back and forth along his cock, her ass hugging his prick with a vice-like grip.
"Your mother," He said, voice tight with need, "Never let me do this, she said it was wrong, it was dirty."
Taylor had to take a moment to catch her breath to respond, "Daddy, nothing you could want is wrong." She felt his pace increase, and pushed on, "I love you, daddy, more than she did. Don't you love me too, more than her?"
His pace hurried, the need now obvious in both his voice, and his body, "Fuck, yes, I love you, you're everything she was and more!"
Both his hands gripped her hips, then she felt herself shudder in ecstasy in time with his throbbing dick buried up her ass. It felt like a firehose spraying in her guts, hot cum spilling out of the tight ring hugging his prick leaking, rivulets of liquid pouring down the back of her thighs. Taylor shrieked, intending the sounds to penetrate to the basement, reminding the cunt bitches just who was in charge.
"Oh baby," Danny said, "Honey, fuck, that was... oh wow." She heard him lean back, and the couch complained as he lay on it. She kept herself in position, ass raised, body just the way he had left it.
Taylor felt a smile of pure joy cross her face. This was their first time. She already couldn't wait until their second.
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