"What a night it had been," Marcus muttered once he woke up, looking at the ashes at his bedside, all that remained of Vicky's pictures. Destroying the pictures of Glory Girl coated with his cum was a great loss. Not as big as missing the opportunity to actually fuck her, but still big.
"Fucking Panacea," he muttered in annoyance, even though he felt bad cursing the greatest healer of the world. However, all the capes she saved didn't feel as intense as ruining his time with Vicky. She was ready to go all the way thanks to her idiot of a boyfriend. He didn't know if he would have another opportunity like that.
His access to her emotions had long faded away, meaning her thoughts were once again a mystery to him.
Still, he wasn't exactly at a point to complain. Not only had he received a blowjob and a titjob from the most desired cape of the city, but also he had received a lot of rewards in the process. The limits of his strength increased, probably reaching Brute 2 though he couldn't know without official measurement, and he could conjure a bigger forcefield that also resisted damage.
How much, he didn't know, but it was clearly useful.
Also, while he didn't get any convenient emotional aura, he received some kind of defense against manipulation. How effective, he didn't know, but considering how scary master effects could be, every little bit counted.
"A profitable night indeed," he said even as he checked his phone. No message from Vicky — or call from Taylor — but his bank app had a notification, showing a deposit somewhere just above fifteen hundred.
From Vicky's mom.
It was supposed to be two thousand, but he had no doubt that, if he called, she would have a lot of legalese thrown in explaining why such a cut was necessary. He had seen their home, and they clearly didn't care about a few hundred dollars, but her actions didn't surprise him.
Last night, she had been quite a bit offended when he managed to resist her browbeating attempts, so she was being a bitch intentionally.
Marcus would have been angry … but it was hard after her daughter worked so hard to put him in a good mood.
"Now, what to do," he muttered to himself as he realized one thing. With his new strength and other supporting abilities, he was a proper cape, one that could hold himself in a fight. He could put on a costume, and go out and fight as a hero or villain.
He wouldn't, of course, at least right now, he wasn't a moron. As a Trump with potentially infinite powers, the last thing he wanted to do was put himself in danger. Though, in the future, he might decide to put on a costume just to get access to other capes.
Assuming, of course, there was no limit to his acquired powers. It was the reason he wasn't making long-term plans. His actions would differ greatly if he could wield three powers at the same time, or ten.
But, that was a problem that could be solved in the future. For the moment, he needed to decide what to do. Fifteen hundred dollars was not exactly a fortune, but it was enough to buy some basic supplements like a decent reflector and a couple of soft lights.
"It's shopping time," he muttered even as he left the motel, ready for a short shopping trip. He wished that he had enough money to open a studio, but that was not possible. For that, he needed to rent a studio, which he didn't come close to affording.
Of course, he could if he picked a place in gang territory, but only a moron would invite beautiful women there. It was an invitation to kidnapping.
No, a studio of his own had to wait sometime.
While he was shopping, he held back from sending a message to Vicky, knowing that any move from his end would make her pull back. She was too proud to follow his lead.
Manipulating her, on the other hand, was laughably easy as long as he was patient. It might have been different if he didn't have the negatives of her naked pictures, ones that he had express permission to hold, it might be different. But with that bait in place, she would return.
"Speaking of easy manipulation," he muttered even as he called Taylor's house, but when her father answered, he mentioned that she was out with friends. That surprised him, as to his knowledge, Taylor didn't have any.
Curious, he searched, only to see a shocking detail. Apparently, Lung had been captured by the Armsmaster the night before while he had been sleeping. Even more shocking was a few smaller pieces, one of them mentioning that there was some kind of bug controller near the fight.
"Really, Taylor," he muttered, wondering how suicidal she was to get close to such a fight. They were the definition of the big leagues. Not exactly an ideal debut.
There was something definitely wrong with her. For a moment, he considered ignoring her, but he still sent her an email, one that included the address of his new motel, and asked her to visit. His excuse, he had just received a small offer, asking for a test shoot that would pay her a hundred dollars.
It was enough to give her an excuse to visit if she wished, but not too tempting to convince her to visit if she wasn't in the mood. As much as he loathed ignoring the opportunity to increase his power, he didn't want to push her if she was not in the mood for social contact after seeing such a fight, even if it was from a distance.
Though, that ability was certainly useful, not only during the photoshoot but also during sex. It allowed him to give a lot of small corrections to Vicky as she gave him a handjob, turning what might have been an unpleasant fumbling into something spectacular.
It was an unexpected yet amazing benefit.
Speaking of unexpected things, when he returned to his motel, carrying a large number of second-hand equipment, both for the shoots and for his dark room, he didn't expect to find Taylor at the door, waiting. "Hey Marcus," Taylor said.
"Hey," he greeted back even as he checked her, looking tired. "Did you wait for long?"
"No, just a few minutes," she said, which was obviously a lie. "I should have called, but …"
"You don't have a cell phone. I remember," he answered, making sure to smile kindly. "Now, do you want to come in," he said even as he put his stuff on the floor and opened the door.
"Yes, we need to talk," she said as she followed him inside. "You mentioned that there's a job offer."
"Yes," he said even as he put his new purchases on the floor before he started setting them. "Now, let me be honest. It's not really likely that we get the job, but it's a paid test that we can put into our portfolios, so it's better than nothing."
"It'll only take an hour, right?"
"Probably. Maybe ninety minutes at most," he answered, knowing that Taylor was already sold.
"It's still ten times the minimum wage," she answered, excited and shy at the same time. However, Marcus could see that it was not just about the money. He took a photo of her while acting like he was testing the lights, not even asking her to pose.
It was enough to establish an emotional connection once more, the increased power giving him an even better read of her emotions.
They were a true mess. The depression from her constant bullying, the excitement of her first overt sexual experience, the shame of her own actions, the excitement of finally making a new friend, all jumbled together, and her habit of just shifting them to her bugs whenever they became overwhelming hardly helped.
Still, her overwhelming depression wasn't as bad as the day before, proving her orgasm helped. Or maybe, it was her first outing as a hero. Fear was one thing that she wasn't feeling. She must have been further away from the battle than the online stories suggested.
Probably just sensationalism.
"I'm happy that you're willing to help," Marcus said with a smile he thought to be charming. Her emotions confirmed that it was. "You're a true lifesaver."
"Well, I need the money as well. I'm hardly helping you," she replied. Her voice was terse, almost disrespectful, but having access to her emotions was enough to tell him that it was just her terrible way of dealing with her shyness.
No wonder she didn't have any friends if this was the extent of her social skills. His help was not just beneficial, but vital.
"Let's focus on the shoot first, then we can go and have some burgers. How about it?" he asked and earned a shy nod. "Excellent. "Now, the plan is simple. You're going to wear a tight pair of jeans and a simple white shirt, and we'll take a set of photos. You brought them, right?"
"I did," she said as she showed her bag.
"Excellent. Why don't you change to them while I set the lights, and we can start," he offered, gesturing to the bathroom. He would have preferred if she changed in front of him, but she was clearly too tense and wouldn't react to that well, even with the way their last shoot had ended.
He wasn't an idiot enough to push her too much … particularly since his night with the Glory Girl had solved most of the urgency he was feeling. He was still aroused, of course, but he didn't feel like exploding.
He played with the lights, excited to have a semi-decent studio. A motel was not ideal, but it was better than anything else he had used.
While he was making some tiny changes, Taylor returned, looking incredible in her tight jeans. She had the legs and the ass to show them. He couldn't wait until he put her in some fishnets, maybe a garter belt.
"How do I look?" she asked.
"Beautiful," he replied.
"D-don't exaggerate," she muttered.
"Oh. You're a tall, beautiful young woman with an excellent body that shows the benefits of your exercise habits. Not to mention, a tight shirt looks well on you. There's a reason I'm trying to convince you to be a model," he said. Surprisingly, there was almost no exaggeration.
She was beautiful. The only thing that was unattractive of her was her attitude, and even then, having access to her emotions turned it into more of an amusing quirk than something truly offputting.
"S-shut up," she said, a blush much thicker than he expected spreading on her face. "Let's work."
"Someone excited for the date," he teased, which didn't help her blush any. "But, let's focus on the professional side. I need you to prove that you can carry those jeans. Be confident, but give me some fire. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes," she replied, her tone not filling him with confidence. Luckily, they were not for a real brand, so it didn't matter.
"Let's start with something confident but cool. Lean to the side with one hand in your pocket, like you own the place. Put your other hand through your hair, and toss it over your shoulder. You're confident. You're amazing. You own the place."
As he spoke, he used his power to convey the details of the pose far more accurately. He pushed her more than he pushed Vicky, and the benefits of the power he received from her showed. As she cycled through several poses, she got more used to posing. When they were reaching the hour mark, she wasn't any worse than a professional model.
Suddenly, he was sad that the client was imaginary. The work wasn't exactly national magazine-worthy, but it would be more than enough for any local catalog. Maybe he should shop around and see if he could actually turn that into a job opportunity.
"That's enough," he called.
"Really? I thought it would last for an hour?" Taylor said, looking surprised.
"It would have, but I didn't expect you to have a hidden talent for modeling," he answered, enjoying her blush.
"So, that's it?" she asked, feeling disappointed, which he felt acutely through the connection.
"Not necessarily," he answered. "We can always have a private photoshoot. You can use some extra experience. Of course, it'll be boring to work with the same clothes."
"But, I didn't bring any other clothes —" she started, only to freeze, reading his smirk correctly. Yet, even as she froze, he didn't panic.
Her excitement left no doubt about her eventual answer.