As Amy fell to her knees and took his shaft between her lips sexily, Marcus was wondering whether he had bitten more than he could chew. He had assumed that a repeat visit from Amy would have to be easier. A few compliments, maybe playing with her unhealthy feelings in a way that would slowly pull her away from her unhealthy obsession with Vicky.
Only to realize he had misjudged just how bad Amy's emotional state was. He had assumed that her obsession with Vicky was the root of her problems. It was not. It was just a mere symptom, maybe a coping mechanism, covering a deep self-hatred a nihilistic sense of existence.
The latter, particularly, was not fun to feel through emotional connection.
Admittedly, he was supposed to be get suspicious of the speed he was able to convince her to have some fun, but he was arrogant.
Now, he couldn't pull back. Not after he had already replaced Vicky as the way she kept herself distracted from her existential crisis, intense enough to drive anyone else to suicide. When the subject was Panacea, who could apparently reshape life as she wished, it was significantly more dangerous.
Then, there was a detail that truly annoyed him. He had no one but himself to blame himself for the situation. He should have listened to the golden saying.
Never put your dick in crazy.
He had been arrogant because of his easy success with Taylor. A mistake. For once, while her power was dangerous at the street level, there was a limit to the damage she could create. There was no way she could threaten a major hero or become anything more than a street-level threat even if she broke.
With Taylor, there was no risk of escalation.
"Suck it harder, my little goth whore," he groaned even as he grabbed her hair and pushed his cock deeper, invading her throat. A little revenge for all the trouble she was creating, but even then, he was only able to do it because Amy enjoyed it as well.
He had to admire the irony. He was the one that was fucking her throat mercilessly, yet he felt like he had no control. He grabbed his camera. "Smile," he added as she choked around his cock, and took a photo.
The feedback he had felt from his power calmed him somewhat.
When his power had been depleted when he had been targeting Tattletale from a distance, he had been scared that he had depleted his power in a way that would permanently affect his plans, adjusting his estimations downward. However, now that his power was in the process of recovery, he was able to get a better sense of his power.
His power had a component of distance. It wasn't perfectly straightforward, but now that he knew what to understand, he could roughly distinguish how much charge every attempt consumed.
And, any photo he took of Amy consumed a small percentage compared to Tattletale's pictures, showing that having a model in his studio where he could control every detail allowed his power to work much better.
Even luckier, it seemed that his power seemed to be based on their perspective rather than his, which was another benefit. Even as he fucked Amy's throat, he felt like he was playing with a wild lioness. Obedient and fun as long as she complied … but a mistake would be enough to end in a disaster.
And, just to complicate things further, the lioness in question liked to play rough. Even with his constant emotional connection, it was a tense dance.
"Let's make things more fun," he said as he used his hand to wrap her wrists together with his belt, then pulled her hands above her head tight enough to be painful. Meanwhile, his other hand tightened around her hair, fucking her throat to his heart's content.
Her moans were a beautiful melody to his ears, even when they had started to get a distressed quality. He let her go only when her panic started to rise, and even then, he took another photo while she was desperately moaning.
"That was—" she started to say once she had caught her breath, but he interrupted her by reaching down and twisting her nipple, which was conveniently poking through the mesh.
He had to admit. She might be a dangerous time bomb, but she did look incredible wearing a tiny skirt a shirt that hid nothing. Her makeup messed up after the rough fuck had looked even better, particularly her mascara, running just enough to look used without looking horribly messy. "Did I allow you to speak?" he growled, and his anger was not just for fun.
It was not exactly her fault, but since she seemed to be happy to pay the price, he didn't hold back. With a savage jolt of satisfaction, Marcus grabbed her hair to force her to her feet. The jolt of pleasure mixing with pain told him that he was on the right track even as he pushed his hand under her tiny skirt, grinning wide as he fingered her aggressively.
His fingers were sucked into her wetness as she moaned, too weak for the physical side of the pleasure. And, as the joys of the intense pleasure filled her being, her existential crisis had disappeared for the moment.
Finally, he didn't feel like a slight misstep might end the world … at least, temporarily. An excellent opportunity for some fun. "Stay on your toes," he ordered as he fingered her mercilessly, once again using his camera to immortalize the moment.
He realized that it felt better than using a remote clicker, especially with his fingers plunging to her depths aggressively, triggering a beautiful chain of moans. Her cheeks heated up, her eyes shining with pleasure, her depression forgotten.
It was good to feel what he was doing to her thanks to the emotional connection, but at this point, it was largely academic. It was hard to mistake the way her knees gave out under her while she moaned, only his arm tightening around her waist keeping her upright.
"Tell me, Amy, what do you want?" he asked even as he slapped her huge tits, but the constraints of the tight mesh shirt ruined the sway. Luckily, that was easy to solve. A tug was enough to rip the shirt hard, her tits hanging freely. He slapped again. "Answer me."
"I … I want you to fuck me," she moaned, a sense of surrender in her tone as she slowly lowered herself, but before she could land, he grabbed her hands — still tied with his belt — and tugged her forward, dragging her toward the center of the studio, trying to find even better lighting.
Only when she hit the ground hard — with another jolt of pleasure — he pulled his belt free … temporarily, before once again wrapping around her neck, tight enough to make her breathe, glad that he had received enough of her power to keep it from turning dangerous.
Asphyxiation play was a very dangerous kink for anyone without superpowers to manage it.
Amy didn't seem to be caring about the risks. Maybe she had forgotten in the aftermath of her climax, or maybe she just didn't care. He wasn't really interested in the reason enough to ask some questions and read her answers.
Instead, he positioned himself between her legs and pressed against her wetness. "Please…" she whispered.
"In one condition," he whispered. "I have a challenge for you."
"What do you want," she moaned.
"Before your next visit, I want you to wear an anal plug, and I want you to wear that the whole day."
"T-that's —" she gasped, her eyes widening, but he interrupted her with a tug of his belt, his smile getting wider when he received a jolt of pleasure that couldn't be explained by the belt. She was excited about the idea as well.
"Imagine. You walk around all day, while people around you have no idea the great Panacea has a plug lodged deep into her incredible ass. Isn't it amazing?"
"It is," she whispered. Marcus saw that the idea of rebelling against her reputation, even in such a harmless way, gave her almost as much pleasure as what he had done moments before.
She truly had issues.
"Good," he whispered even as he pushed inside her mercilessly, a grunt of pain escaping her mouth as he invaded her core. "But, don't remove it all day. I'll make sure to find you somewhere during the day, and we'll have a talk. Understood?"
"Yes," she moaned, her eyes widening as Marcus started to move faster and faster, her core readily devouring his cock.
She wasn't able to moan loudly as he invaded her core, but it had more to do with the tightening of the belt around her throat than anything else. Her eyes fluttered to show her enjoyment — just as her emotions did — while he fucked her harder and harder.
His hands slid down to her her ass cheeks, digging his fingers into the incredible flesh of her thick ass. As he picked up speed, her wails started to fill the studio, thrusting forward to stretch her to the limit.
At this point, there was no taking slow or flirting. He drilled hard while she had been reduced to enduring the endless pleasure, her world rocking even harder.
One advantage of her deep crisis, he noted. When she came, she came hard. He followed it, painting her insides with his seed, his power from her perfect to resolve any potential problem. He pulled out as she collapsed against the hard floor, mewling dazedly, and took another photo, this time with his seed leaking out of her roughly used pussy.
He deliberately used flash for the next photo. It would ruin the light balance, but he didn't care. It was just another way of leaving a mark, another display of control. And, not just because it had the potential to enhance the variant power he had received from her even further.
With all the stress she caused, he wanted to — no, he needed to feel like a winner, one in control once again.
He slapped her breast again, and at the same time, used the same biokinetic power to replenish her stamina. "Wake up. We have a long night to spend together," he reminded her.
She just moaned.