by R. M. Walker
“Of course you would.” She looked up to Tremor’s confused face and laughed. “Aww, I’m sorry. I knew you were inexperienced, but I would never have pushed you for a public date if I’d known you were,” she gestured up and down at him, “so completely new to everything. I like you, I really do, but you can just stop if you want to. I know it must be a lot all at once.”
“I don’t understand,” he began.
“Understatement,” I coughed under my breath, and Kelly giggled.
Tremor looked even more nervous, if that was possible, but his powers still hadn’t reached the heights they had been at. I only felt like I was riding a giant Hitachi wand on the LOW setting now. “I don’t understand how you two know each other.”
I didn’t client and tell, so I left it to Kelly. Rosy cheeks and the smallest smile dawned on her face. “Did you know my power is perception? Not just hearing and seeing, but sensation. When my powers came on, I wasn’t able to enjoy sex anymore because everything was just too much. So Null worked me over, day in and day out, until I could hone my focus. I learned to feel only the pain I wanted, to see only what I focused on, and just how good sex can be if I center myself.” He didn’t know what to say, but I had some pride looking at my creation.
I moved to get up, then said, “Well, if you aren’t interested in finishing the lesson, I’ll just go.”
“Me too,” Kelly added, giving me a knowing side-eye.
“Wait.” He stepped toward us, finally dropping my panties. “I was just... figuring out what to do.” Oh, this should be good. I stroked a lazy hand over my breast, swirling and flicking a nail over the puckered nipple.
“Wait, Ma’am,” she corrected him, and he echoed her.
“Good girl.” The words exited my mouth like the purring of a cat, and she preened under my praise. “Now, Tremor. Would you like to finish your education?” He looked between us, back and forth like he was enjoying a ping-pong match.
“Yes, Ma’am.” It almost sounded like a question, but he’d consented and that was good enough for me.
“Why don’t you go ahead and lock the door this time, first? I’ve had about enough of being fucking interrupted. You’re going to learn exactly what Kelly likes while I keep you from turning the state into a giant vibrating motel bed, and then we’re going to pop your cherry so I can stop babysitting your dick. Right then, strip. Naked.”
Kelly, the little minx, for her own part looked as if she was enjoying herself. She’d slid her skirt up over her tanned thighs and was idly touching her inner thigh, denying that last pass toward pleasure as she watched her new boyfriend strip for her old Domme. I bet she’d never even mentioned her powers to him before tonight. Well, he was in for an education, that was for sure.
In very few seconds he stood there, his proud cock standing at attention between the rippled lines of his power marks, dripping long thin filaments of precum off its purpled tip. It was a girthy cock, but not overly long. One of my favorite configurations of dick, truth be told. It hit all the right spots without also attempting to impale my liver.
“Touch, kiss, breasts, and?” I asked him. He looked down at my wet and angry pussy.
“And orgasm.” He knelt swiftly, resuming the delicious position he’d been in minutes before, only taking a moment to glance at his new girlfriend to see that she was just as turned on as he before he plunged in.
He was sloppy and wild at first, rubbing my dripping cunt all over his face and coating his stubbled cheek with my juices. The occasional brush and tongue of my clit kept me tense through my core, but I was content to let him enthusiastically maul my pussy for the moment. Kelly was not as patient however, and she leaned in to spread my pink lips apart, running a finger up from my soaked asshole to my throbbing clit.
Watching her point, saying “suck here,” Tremor then leaned forward and vacuum sealed his mouth around the most sensitive part of me, and goddamn did he suck. My hips bucked as he roughly tortured the nerve bundle there over and over. Kelly looked on at first like a proud mother, then reached to pinch and roll one of my nipples hard between her fingers, projecting her powers out to bring me to a fevered oscillation.
I wanted to make him try harder, to punish him, but I felt, more than saw, Kelly take one of his hands and before I could prepare myself, a large finger was plunged inside of me. The rough, forced entry shocked me and I clamped down on it hard enough to pitch me over the edge. The lights in the office flicked on and off while stars burst in my vision, and suddenly I could see the ripples of their powers in the air passing through them but bouncing off of me. I felt every single wave crest and break against my clit as Tremor held on, and continued to suckle me through the big eruptions and tiny explosions of my orgasm.
Finally, after I was shaking and spent, I pushed my palm against his forehead and forced him off of me. He wore the first real smile I’d seen on his face, and a facemask of shiny arousal. “Did I do it?” I didn’t answer the question because it was stupid, but he didn’t really need an answer.
Kelly reached and brought his mouth to hers, their lips both sticky now with my desire as she kissed him thoroughly. “Now, my turn,” she said, before turning to me. “Can you stay a while longer?”
I looked at the analog watch I wore. Seven-thirty. “I have about twenty minutes to spare. Let’s see if we can teach him what to do with this thing before I have to run.” I reached out and wrapped my warm fingers firmly around his dick, squeezing when he gasped, while Kelly stood to strip.
4
Dinner Party
At eight-seventeen I walked out of the general manager’s office, closing the door behind me on Kelly and an in-control Tremor lying spent in each other’s arms on the bald man’s couch. Newly confident and freshly deflowered, I was sure that he’d be able to contain his powers now. The office's owner himself stood at the end of the hall looking nervous, and in his arms he held my purse and papers, along with the items my students had left. The cavernous dining area was empty and dim with tables still full of uneaten dishes, but not a waiter or busboy to be seen.
Walking over, I took a moment to stand a little too far into his space while I reached into the purse he still held, and pulled out my compact and lipstick. His cock far overestimated his appeal at the same time his brain reminded him of just what I was. My sexual sensitivity was still heightened, so I was betting he had a tightly puckered asshole to go with that erection.
My cheeks were the color of candy apples, and the red lipstick I applied gave me a Snow White sort of appeal. Vanilla sex normally did abso-fucking-lutely nothing for me, but I’d always enjoyed Kelly’s complete lack of aversion to bodily fluids. She was happiest coated from carpet to drapes in pussy juices, and she reveled in ropes of cum draped around her neck like the finest diamonds. In one of our last sessions, I’d observed her during a threesome with me out of range, while she gleefully deep-throated a cock so freshly removed from the ass of their third, that even I would have taken a pause for wet wipes. Something about the dichotomy of her apple-pie abandon and his bad-boy naivete had brought out the Mistress in me and done more than just satisfy leftover work cravings.
I snapped my compact shut, dropping it into the bag, and then finally pretended to notice the horny bastard who’d been standing in the hall listening. “They’ll still be awhile.” Not like I was going to tell him thank you for doing his fucking job. I took my papers and shoved them in the side pocket of my big bag and turned to go, already forgetting him.
“I have to shut the whole restaurant down because of the power outages making my kitchen run behind.” Of course he couldn’t just let me leave. Did he want a fucking medal? “So I give Mr. Quake a call and he tells me it’s fi- ugchhhhh” The thump of Kelly’s purse hitting the floor was the punctuation to his sentence.
Whispering softly into his ear, I told him exactly how I felt about his lack of trust in my sterling reputation and how aggrieved I was that he would call the father of my client like a beaten puppy beg
ging for head pats. I went on to inform him, in detail, of just what happened to the last person who pissed me off, and that should we ever meet again he might consider crossing the street or even better, running away. Then I removed my left hand, which had been slowly twisting his testicles like a bread tie, and my right hand, which had been holding him several inches off the ground by his throat.
I was such a fucking professional.
I leaned over his writhing body to remove the wad of hundreds I’d mistakenly tipped him, then stepped over his body and found my way to the exit. The clock in the lobby read eight-twenty. Claire did say eight-ish, right?
Increasing my usually unhurried pace reminded me that these boots were artwork, not workout gear. I would only attempt to slop through the disgusting sidewalks of downtown in haute couture for no one other than my best friend. Claire was always early, but she knew how jobs went sometimes. Even so, twenty minutes late was pushing it. There were days that owning one of those god-forsaken cell phones sounded good.
Refusing to limp, I walked quickly in the natural bubble that usually formed around me in public. My personal space was rarely invaded, and never more than once. Finally, though, I rounded the corner and spotted Lupita’s elderly host only another fifteen steps away, holding the door open for another couple, but when he saw me he let it swing shut almost into their backs as he stepped forward to greet me.
“Hello, beautiful!” Paper-thin hands the texture of buttery leather reached for mine, grasping firmly and pulling them up to kiss. “You haven’t been by in months to come see old Manuel! Which is better than I can say for my grandchildren, but at least I don’t have to buy you gifts every holiday just because you exist.” I allowed a rare smile to warm my features and gently pulled free, softening the gesture by leaning down to kiss the top of his wispy-haired head.
“Business has been good, we’re expanding. There’s been no time to come sneak empanadas with you lately. But I come bearing gifts.” I reached into my purse where I’d put a trinket for him earlier, hoping he’d be at the door. I pulled out a singed red leather mask with a holographic star over one eye and handed it to him.
He took it reverently, examining the scorch marks with the attention of a jeweler purchasing diamonds. “Crimson Veil.” I nodded. Manuel had collected hero only Supe memorabilia longer than I’d known him, and when things like the mask got lost or damaged during the course of a session, they usually ended up here. He smiled at me, gently folding it and placing it in his blazer pocket. “So when am I going to get a piece of the Null costume, eh princessa?” He winked, then reached to hold the door open for me.
“You don’t collect my kind, Papa.” I patted his thin shoulder as I passed. “I’m late to meet Claire and- her friend.” Even those words tasted like vomit in my mouth. “Have they been here long?”
He shuffled into the lobby after me and walked past the earlier couple, still standing at the host stand waiting for him, and consulted his book. I didn’t think he’d be here many more years harassing me for souvenirs. “No, that’s what I thought. I did have Miss Claire down for a party of three, but not until eight-thirty. You still have five minutes, chica. They haven’t arrived and you look like you need to sit.” Manuel waddled off with his high-low gait ahead of me, while the other patrons stood wondering if they’d suddenly become invisible.
I sat primly in the chair he pulled out, enjoying the soft throbbing of my tender pussy meeting the firm chair. Had I gotten the time wrong? Claire hadn’t printed out my schedule for me today for the first time in... ever, so I was running blind and it irked me.
Manuel pushed my chair in and leaned over one more time before leaving. “You aren’t like the others, Miss Null. I would be proud to display something of my good friend’s in my collection.” He tipped an imaginary hat at me, then made his way back to the front.
It wasn’t long before Claire bustled in, long and blonde, radiating cheerful happiness and hanging on the arm of a tall, dark Mexican man. Fuego. They bypassed Manuel and came straight to the table, laughing like they were in the middle of a joke. They both sat on the same side of the small, square table and directly across from me, giggling as they scooted chairs around and bumped elbows.
I checked my watch. Eight forty-seven.
Claire looked good, but not really like her usual self, and Dipshit looked like a braying donkey laughing loudly in a restaurant like a fool.
“Did I get the time wrong? You said eight-ish.” Oh, look. I’m not a mannequin sitting at your table after all! My words knocked the stupid out of them, and they stopped laughing and finally paid attention to me. Claire gave me a small smile, then looked at Dogface and they both burst out laughing again. I almost got up to leave when she waved a hand at him and wiped her eyes.
“So I was telling Diego about how you’re never on time for dinner, and he had the brilliant idea that we just tell you half an hour earlier than the actual reservation! Then, of course, there- was a mishap—” She snorted. Actually snorted. “—with one of my shoes, and here we are.” She reached over and laid a hand on his arm. “Did you just come from the office? I was surprised to see you here, even with the half hour lead.”
“Forty-seven minutes.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “You showed up forty-seven minutes after you told me to be here. And no, I came from a job, which you would know if your head wasn’t stuck up his ass like that big, ribbed ice dildo that I—”
“Hey!” He half stood, shaking her off as he slammed flat palms down onto the table. Bonfires burned in the cinnamon depths of his eyes. I dismissed him with an eye roll.
“Am I supposed to pretend I didn’t fuck him?” I looked between them. She was uncomfortable now, nearly squirming in her chair, and he was red-faced and barely in control of his powers. I felt the tingle brush me like a lover, then retreat. “I mean, I guess I can pretend it didn’t happen... but I’ll never forget. I’ve never seen a man take such a massive dong up his ass and beg for more.” I smiled at him innocently, enjoying the show.
“Fara. Please.” Her voice was suddenly small, and he abandoned his anger quickly to wrap her in an arm and tuck her into his body. That voice hurt my heart.
“Fine. Fine. I’ll stop.” I just wanted that look to leave her face.
She lifted the corners of her mouth in the suggestion of a smile. “No, you won’t.”
I huffed, then admitted, “You’re probably right.” I thought she’d laugh, but she didn’t. Instead, she leaned over and pulled a manila folder out of her bag and slid it across the table to me. “What’s this?”
Claire took a deep and shuddering breath, while Dicktrickle rubbed her arms like she was freezing or something. Then she spoke, and her words counted as only the second time that something other than pain or pleasure had broken through the null shield around my heart.
“I want you to know, I didn’t want to do it this way. I wanted you to be happy for me, or something like it anyway, since I know happy isn’t an emotion that you do.” She tapped a french-tipped nail on the folder. “Inside is a signed transfer of deed and interest for the Cage. I’m gifting my forty-nine percent of the business back to you and walking away. I just don’t want it to be my whole life anymore, and there can’t be any other way with you.”
My heart might have stopped beating. Or maybe it was beating faster. There was some sound in my ears thumping over and over while an immense pressure built in my chest. Was it from too much blood, or not enough? Maybe it was just the sound of my organs collapsing into the Claire-sized sinkhole that had opened up inside my body, while she told me calmly about the details of our divorce.
“... and so, if you ever do, I’d love for you to be a part of the baby's life.” Baby? My body had gone cold, and the anger and frustration that constantly beat itself against the interior of my shield became frenzied, like piranhas with blood in the water. I managed to move my eyes, and a glance revealed a huge diamond engagement ring on her left hand, laid flat on the table in an obvious
display. Dumpsterfuck saw me notice it and preened like a special-needs peacock.
I sat in the quiet at the end of her sentence while smoking fajitas were delivered to the table next to us, pretending that the only way to keep from exploding like the TNT from cartoons was to keep the fuse gripped firmly in between my teeth.
Claire didn’t care that I was single-handedly saving everyone in our vicinity from being blown apart, because she kept asking me, “Say something. Tell me what you think. Fara, you have to speak to me.”
Finally, when I was convinced the explosion could delay itself for a few moments, I opened my mouth and let the demon, who resided in the place normal humans kept their feelings, take over the conversation. “I’m surprised you were even able to get pregnant with his fixation on taking it up the ass. Good luck with that, by the way.” My body stood and grabbed the contracts, the demon piloting. “I hope you didn’t fuck up the contracts like you did my schedule today. I’ll make sure your things are on the nearest street-corner tomorrow. Go fuck yourself, Claire.”
5
Pleasxxure
The demon was a good driver. She barreled around corners, swerving and dodging, changing gears and sliding into our penthouse home on the top floor of the Cage like a professional driver before the bomb went off.
We made it in through the door and shut it. Then step, step, drop keys. Step, step, drop the purse full of papers. Finally, step, step, drop body to the floor by the window. I felt myself falling as I watched the lights blow out not only in my apartment, but in a rolling wave across the city. I felt it was only fair that darkness should descend for everyone if I should have to endure it again.
Bitter tears fell like wishes into an empty well. No one's wishes were being granted today.
