1 comments/  12627 views/  13 favorites

Port and Refill Ch. 01

By: Fot1234



This story contains elements of futanari (girl with a penis) on female. All characters involved are at least 18 years old.  

***** 

"So, I get why I'm here. But why are you here?" 

I let out my breath in an irritated huff, while trying to keep my arms crossed over my breasts. It's not enough that I have to be stranded, naked, on an isolated deserted island with no food or water. It's not enough that I know I'm going to die here shortly from dehydration and exposure. But did he really have to strand me with her? 

I'm petite, brown-eyed and brunette. I don't have a lot going on up top, although I like to think what I do have I show off well. At 35 I'm still not sagging anywhere, but it takes a lot more work than it used to. Still, I've never deluded myself to being more than pretty or cute - I'll never be beautiful. 

My companion, though? She's nearly six feet of All-American, busty, blue-eyed blonde model looks, and from what I can tell is just out of college. Her southern twang grated on my ears, although if I'm being truthful it's not that she sounded bad. I just disliked her whole redneck, patriotic gung ho thing, and her accent reminded me of it. I did have two things that comforted me, though. The first is that she's even more awkward being nude than I am. One arm was fighting a losing battle to contain her breasts. And the other was between her legs - a sizable erection that started up as soon as she saw me, that she's covering gamely with her other hand. It amused me to see her beauty contrasted with a very male attribute. I wasn't worried about her trying to force herself on me, of course - she's too goody-two shoes to try, and even if she did I'd just drown her. So I can afford to chuckle. 

But her stare brought me back to the question at hand. I could feel the old anger rising at her assumption, and I could think of several ways to take her down to size verbally. But as I opened my mouth, the depression kicked in. We're going to die here, after all. What would be the point in fighting? So with some effort, I kept my voice even. "I'm a villain. Why would you believe anything I say in the first place?" I met her gaze. "Just stay over here, and I'll go over there. And we can live out the rest of our very short lives without bothering each other." My voice caught at the end, and I hated myself for showing weakness. 

Conversation over, I ported myself to the other end of the island, sat down in the sand, and cried silent tears. 

* * * 

The sun was starting to set when I felt her approach. I debated porting around to avoid her, but it's not a very big island, and there's no cover. If she annoyed me too much, I'd just put her out at sea a mile or so. I'm sure she'd be able to swim back. And it's hard to make myself care. I felt hollowed out emotionally, and caring would take more effort than I had. And I could just feel the slight edge of hunger and thirst starting, reminding me of our eventual fate, sapping my willpower further. 

She sat down carefully a good fifteen feet away. I felt her open her mouth to speak, but I got in first, my tone harsher than I meant it to be. "If you piss me off, I'm going to put you in the ocean." 

I expected her to get mad, to lash out at me. But she surprised me. "I don't always think my words through. Got me in trouble a lot as a kid. But I can see how what I said before might have been taken the wrong way." She turned her head to me and gave me a nod. "If you're here, I figure I owe you enough to listen. If you want to talk." 

I closed my eyes and sat back. Did I want to talk? Not really. But it was better than sitting here and thinking about dying of thirst, so I made myself speak. "I'm a thief. I break the law. And I get that that makes me a villain. But I've spent 20 years getting lumped in with psychos like Switch and Dr. Face, and it just makes me tired." I turned to look at her, but her face gave me nothing - no expression - so I continued. "I've never killed anyone. I've never really hurt anyone, unless you could the occasional bump and bruise to an overzealous security guard. So what makes you think I'd have anything to do with the Professor's scheme to take over the world?" I sat forward, absently dragging my fingers through the sand. "Even if he loses, he's going to kill thousands of people. That's nothing I want to be part of. I'm here because I turned him down, and he wanted me out of the way. And because killing me outright would be immoral." I snarled the last word, my frustration at the situation boiling through. It was a struggle to calm myself. "Sorry. I just... shit. I don't know." 

She didn't speak for a few minutes. The light was starting to fade, and I could mostly just see her silhouette. But I could see her nod, decisive and assured. "I believe you." 

I shocked myself by flushing and feeling pleased, and immediately felt stupid. Was I seriously happy just because this redneck child believed me? But... yes. Years of disapproval had taught me to expect more of the same, and I couldn't shake the warm feeling filling me. Until I remembered where I was, and then I came crashing back down. "I... look, thanks. I appreciate that, really. And I'm sorry for reacting that way earlier. But, "and I swept the horizon with my arm, "it's not like it matters now." 

She sat still, and I could tell somehow that she was thinking deeply. I waited, and it was a few minutes later that she spoke. Her voice had an odd tone to it. "Look ah... this will sound weird. But I need you to trust me. I wouldn't say anything, and you don't seem the type, but I don't want you to do anything stupid." She took a deep breath. "I've been here for a week already." 

I considered her statement. She was in good shape - after a week without food or water she should have been close to dying. As far as I knew, she didn't have any special powers that would keep her alive that long. But... 

I felt it blossom, deep inside me. Hope. She could make food and water. Somehow. Maybe we could survive long enough for rescue. And I felt a deep relief that she was going to share, because she could have so easily withheld it from me and just saved herself. The next second I was next to her, and she startled as I appeared and flung my arms around her. For a moment, all I could do is hug her, and her arms settled carefully around me. And then I remembered we were both naked, and with a yelp I was twenty feed down the beach. I started babbling. "Shit, sorry, forgot, I was just uh... crap. And I thought I was the mature one here." I let myself drop back down onto my back in the sand. "Today has just been one giant fucked up emotional roller coaster, you know?" 

She managed a chuckle. "It's ok. I know the feeling. But uh..." she got hesitant again. "The food thing. I'll show you the morning? It's a bit weird, I'm gonna need you to keep an open mind." She got up and started walking off. "I'll talk to you then." 

I told her goodnight and then turned over and curled up. The hunger and thirst were still there, but I could keep them at bay now, and sleep came eventually. I wondered briefly what she meant by weird, but shrugged it off. At least I wouldn't die. 

* * * 

I woke up with my mouth like a desert, a pounding headache and a cramping stomach. I groaned as I sat up, and felt her sitting down about fifty feet away. I stood up and glanced over - she was sitting cross-legged, and as she saw me she waved. I realized with a start that neither of us were bothering to cover ourselves, and I started to move my hands over my chest. But then I stopped. We were going to be here a long time - did it really make sense to worry about a little nudity? So I took a deep breath and ported over. 

She blinked as I appeared, and I took in her appearance - wet hair and clean skin - and realized she must have taken a dip in the ocean. She nodded at it and said, "You look like you could use a quick wash." I studied her further, and she seemed nervous and embarrassed. I was getting a sense of foreboding about this food and water thing, and I really, really wanted to eat something, but I'd let her take her time. The ocean was refreshing, if a bit cold, and it was a relief to get the sand off of me. But a few minutes later I was back in front of her. 

She'd changed positions, and I saw with amusement that she had her legs together now. Apparently she'd enjoyed the show. I stretched carefully, and saw her throat gulp as she took me in. And then I realized I was being a bitch, and winced. I sat down and pulled my knees up. "I feel like I just keep apologizing, but sorry about that. I shouldn't tease you." 

She nodded and seemed to settle down, but I could still practically feel the embarrassment pouring off of her. She spoke softly. "I need you to promise to hear me out." 

I raised an eyebrow. "You're worrying me with all this, but sure. I promise." I watched her curiously. It seemed like she was going through a huge internal struggle. 

Finally she seemed to find her resolve. She met my gaze straight on. "I've been eating and drinking... myself." She took a deep breath, and swallowed heavily as I stared in shock, before pointing at her crotch. "My cum. Semen." 

I felt rage and crushing despair sweep through me. I couldn't believe she'd sold me on this, made me think I could survive. I didn't remember standing, but there I was on my feet. I was going to stretch my abilities and put this bitch a couple of miles out at sea. I was readying myself when one of her words cut through my anger. "...promised!" 

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Then I sat and crossed my arms. "Ok. You have a minute, and this better be good." 

She talked fast. "You know my codename, right? Refill? You ever think that's a weird name for a mech girl?" 

I hesitated. But... "Yes. Now that you say it that way." 

She continued quickly. "My ability isn't super useful in straight up combat, at least as long as you don't want a mess around. I can refill liquids in containers. With the right kind of battery I can basically recharge my mech as I go, which is why I'm so effective. Better power/weight ratio compared to a pure tech solution." 

I blinked, both at the explanation and at the technical terms coming out of her mouth. I reminded myself to not assume she was stupid. "Ok, sure. But what does that have to do..." my voice trailed off as I stared at her in horror. "You're kidding. You can refill your balls?!" She nodded. I continued to stare, flabbergasted. "How did you even find that out?!" 

She sighed, and sat back. "Before I start on that, are you still going to mess with me after a minute?" I hesitated, but shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around this. "Ok. So I had this girlfriend in college who was uh... a bit freaky. It was her idea, she wanted to see if I could... um. Sorry, this is kind of weird, right? But she wanted to see if I could increase the size of my... loads." 

I snorted. "Seriously?" But she nodded. "And it works?" 

She shrugged at me. "It took some practice, but yeah. If I refill them at the right time, anywhere from a 300% to 400% increase in... production." She looked apologetic. "Sorry, she was a bit of a science nerd, and made us do a study. Anyway, so we knew that worked. And then later she got into this weird hippy sustainability shit-" 

I interrupted her. "You and a hippy? I mean, you're practically Miss USA, guns and freedom? How did that work?" 

She grinned at me. "Opposites attract? Hell if I know. But anyway, for about um, the last month we were together? She got about 90% of her calories from... me. To reduce her feetprint. Footprint. Whatever bullshit." She shrugged again. "It was weird, but she was hot and kinky and my first real girlfriend, so I went with it. At least until she started pressuring me to do the same thing." She winced. "She'd probably be laughing at me now." 

I sat back, my mind racing. The whole thing was... just bizarre. It seemed like a perpetual motion machine, but super powers make those possible. So I guessed... theoretically... it could work. I tried hard not to think about what that might mean for me. "So how many, um. Loads. Do you need each day? And it keeps you alive?" 

She put a hand out and waggled it from side to side. "Between 20 and 25. Depending on how hungry I am. And I'm sure it wouldn't work over a real long term, probably some important vitamins or something. But it should keep us going until we're rescued." She grimaced. "If we're rescued. And there's the time thing." 

I looked at her blankly. "Time thing?" 

She nodded, and was back to embarrassed. "Right. So even with the basic supers package keeping me going, from what I can tell I average roughly 15 minutes between... loads. So for just me, I've been, um. Producing for 5 to 6 hours. So add you on top of that..." 

I nodded, feeling numb. "Right. I'm smaller, thankfully, so I need less. But that's still like... 10 hours a day." She shifted nervously from side to side, and my eyes narrowed. "What?" 

"I don't want to tell you." I just kept up the stare, and she broke first. "Don't say I didn't warn you. I figure I lose, um. Anywhere from 10% to 20% from spillage, since my hands aren't great at the job. So if we had, ah, some other way..." she cut off, blushing furiously. 

I got it from that, and... "Wow." She opened her mouth to defend herself, but I waved it off. "No, it's my fault. Just... wow." I drummed my fingers absentmindedly on the sand. "So if we did that... maybe 9 hours still. Jesus." 

We sat in silence for a while and I tried to think it through. The entire thing still felt unreal, absurd. Like a sick joke. I wondered if there might be invisible cameras around somewhere, watching us. Finally, she spoke. "There's a couple of other things I've thought of. I can refill bladders - it's not a fun time, but if you're dehydrated enough your body will re-absorb some of the water. And if we could learn to fish, that would cut down the calorie needs. But it won't be enough to keep us alive." She looked miserable. "I know it's sick, and we're basically strangers, but I don't want to just let you die either. It's up to you." 

I closed my eyes, and concentrated on my body. I'd been trying to block it out, but once I paid attention to it I could feel my thirst like a physical beast, clawing at my throat, and my stomach was desperate. I tried to imagine dying this way. It wasn't like I'd never sucked a cock before... I just wished I could know this was real. Maybe... 

My eyes shot open, and I turned to her. "Can I see it?" She look confused, so I elaborated. "Can I watch you... eat? It just doesn't feel, well. Real." 

She nodded, slowly. 

* * * 

"That looks incredibly uncomfortable. But it makes sense." 

I'd expected her to just do something right there, but she'd taken me over to the other side of the island. There, she'd dug out a hole in the beach to create a huge slope, and used that to position herself almost upside down. Then she'd hunched over her legs, which left her cock pointing almost straight down at her mouth. The entire time she got in position she had this vague sense of embarrassment about her that I found somehow endearing. Her voice was smooth when she answered, though. "Reduces spillage, which means I don't have to stay this way as long." 

I nodded at her. "Makes sense." And shut up since I was repeating myself. And then we stood there. Me standing watching her, her almost upside down, cock pointed down at her face, and stared at each other. I shuffled my feet. "Um. This got awkward." 

She closed her eyes, then opened them and locked gazes with me. And slowly started stroking herself. And everything changed. The air suddenly felt electric, my skin almost buzzing. I was blushing. Why was she looking at me during this? I wanted to look away, but I felt trapped by her gaze. She gave a slow blink, and then I saw it. Moisture. Pre-cum on the tip of her cock. The dryness in my mouth roared through me, but I was still frozen in place. I watched, fascinated, as one finger came up and trapped it, and then she brought it down to her mouth and sucked it off. I felt dampness between my thighs, and sat down quickly as I turned bright red. This... this was... It was like she'd changed into an entirely new person. Confident. Assured. 

My mouth parted as she sped up, a line of cum flowing down, and she adjusted slightly so it landed in her mouth. Her eyes still held me in place, demanding, and I realized one of my hands was drifting toward my crotch, and pulled it back quickly. Her tongue flashed out, catching and guiding her cum, and I had to bite my lip to keep from porting toward her. Her hand sped up, blurring, and her balls swelled, growing even larger. I realized she had to be close even though it had only been a few minutes. And then it was like she exploded. 

Her cock spewed cum like a fountain. Her balls pulsed, shrinking and then growing again, and my mouth was open, parchness forgotten as I watched her. Her left hand kept moving as she milked herself relentlessly, the other hand grabbing cum and shoving it into her mouth. It must have been a minute before she stopped, and then her hands were moving, gathering the cum that had spilled on her breasts and neck. I stared and thirsted and my pussy ached, and suddenly it was too much and I was next to her. 

We both froze as I appeared. She looked up at me and I saw pure, roaring lust in her eyes, and her mouth opened invitingly, the inside still coated with her fluids. I reached down one trembling hand and touched the side of her lips, where a droplet lay. Her tongue came out, teasing, and - 

I was gone. On the other side of the island, away from temptation and things that could never happen. I had just seen the most erotic display of my life, and I was pretty sure it had been in homage to me. But I held up my finger and looked at the drop, and still trembling, placed it on my tongue, and felt the balm of that liquid, an all too temporary relief. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay away.

Port and Refill Ch. 02



This story contains elements of futanari (girl with a penis) on female. All characters involved are at least 18 years old.  

***** 

My thirst was all-consuming. Hunger and lust were there, clawing at my stomach and aching between my legs, but they were a distant second. Trivial complaints like boredom, the constant sun or the hot sand barely registered. 

You're probably thinking I was a bit of a wimp. After all, it had barely been two days. But in my defense, I think without Refill there I would have fared better. The problem was that about an hour ago, she'd started her "feeding" for the day. And despite being behind a sand ridge on the other side of the island, I could feel every drop of her cum as it came out of her cock. And I wanted it more than I'd ever wanted anything else. 

I should probably explain. 

* * * 

Many super powers require other, secondary powers to function as you'd expect. The classic example is Ultimatum, a basic strength super. She can throw a tank. But her super strength wouldn't be useful without a couple of other secondaries. The first is toughness - otherwise even if she lifted a tank, the weight would collapse her body. And she also has enhanced agility, which lets her balance a tank and actually hit what she aims at. 

My secondary is awareness, and my teleports wouldn't function without it. I "feel" everything within my radius, and that range also limits where I can port to (although feel isn't really the right word - it's not like any normal sense). I have some control over it, and nowadays I can stretch it out to just over a mile for brief periods. The problem is the minimum under normal conditions is about a hundred feet, and Refill is well within that. 

She's about halfway through a cycle, and I was still recovering from the last one. My throat ached for her fluids, to slake this thirst, and I was trembling with the effort it took to not go to her. It's the second strongest addiction humans have after oxygen, and I was desperate for my fix. But... I was tired of acting on instinct and need. I'd ported twice in the past two days without thinking about it, and that's unacceptable. I'm an adult, and if I was going to take this next step, I wanted to make it with a clear mind, and not because I was simply too thirsty to care anymore. I needed space, and there was only one way to get it. 

The next second I splashed down into the ocean a quarter mile out to sea, and started treading water. 

* * * 

It took me a few minutes, but I calmed down enough to ignore the precious liquid waiting for me back on shore. Well, mostly ignore. So, bobbing with the waves, I made myself think. To examine options and consequences, to work my way through this problem like any other I'd solved in my career. 

There were many reasons this was a bad idea. A hero and a villain. A ten year age gap. Forced sexualized contact. And perhaps most importantly, the fallout if - when - we were rescued. But no matter how I weighed it, all of those paled against the iron imperative of surviving. I wanted to live, and this was the only option I could see. And I would take it even if it damned me. I'd just have to hope I could keep it from hurting Refill too. 

I took a deep breath, stretched out my mind, and ported back. 

* * * 

She stared up at me in astonishment. A minute ago she'd been in her upside down position, working her cock with efficiency but not passion. Now I'd placed her down on the beach, flat on her back. She started to get up until she saw it was me, then reclined back. I was grateful that she didn't say anything - it made it easier to keep some distance from the act I was about to do. 

I looked down at her cock. I'd been able to feel it the entire time of course, and with a power like mine it makes sense to practice measuring things with your brain. So I could say with some confidence that she was just shy of nine inches, and normal proportions. Big, but not gigantic. I moved my hand up and tentatively gripped it, and felt more than heard the sharp breath she took. Absentmindedly I started tugging on her cock as I decided where to start. 

If had been a normal situation, I'd have known how to begin. But we weren't romantically involved, and the combination of sterile need and craving left me a confused jumble of emotions. I felt dirty for taking advantage, slutty for what I knew I was about to do, and my go-to feeling since I'd arrived at the island - embarrassment. But then I saw a drop of pre-cum appear on the tip of her penis, and my thirst came roaring back. I felt like I was an observer in my own body as my head came down and I licked her fluids. This time she couldn't hold back her gasp. 

The taste exploded on my tongue. It was cum - semen - and not exactly my favorite thing in the world. But in that moment it was manna from heaven. Tasting anything was wonderful - that particular situation where even normally shitty food tastes awesome when you're starving - but it was the fact that it was fluid, moisture, that made me moan with pleasure and envelop the head of her cock with my lips, and then suck for all I was worth. Because I needed more. God, did I need more. My world narrowed to the cock in my mouth, and the fluid leaking slowly from it. Her pre-cum was running continuously, and I mewled in pleasure as it ran down my throat. In the back of my head I could feel her biting her hand to keep from screaming, but that was no longer important to me. I could tell she was very, very, close, but I was impatient. I moved my hand from her cock and reached down, then squeezed her balls. At the same time I shoved a few inches of her down my throat, and she made a strangled noise and then she was cumming. 

It was glorious, a jolt of pure pleasure to my system as I finally got what my body was craving. At first it was fairly normal - maybe a bit more than normal - but she just kept cumming and cumming, and I swallowed each wonderful spurt down. I could feel her balls shrinking and growing in her hand, until finally she stopped - in reality probably no more than thirty seconds, but it had felt like a lot longer. I came off of her with a gasp, then laid my head down on her stomach as I tried to catch my breath. 

Staring at her softening cock, I could feel reality starting to intrude. Consequences and emotions trying to push back. But those were things I couldn't afford, and I had to do this another thirty or forty times today. And my hunger and thirst had only been temporarily put at bay - I could feel them waiting. So I pushed my thoughts away, and moved forward to take her back into my mouth. 

* * * 

I was working on number five when her stomach rumbled. 

I flushed, embarrassed that I'd gotten so caught up in this when I'd originally interrupted her - she needed to eat too. Even more than I did, given our size difference. I resolved to start sharing, I figured that would work out best. So when she got close, I pulled off of her for just long enough to say, "Get ready." I felt her start at my words, then lay back down and part her lips. Her breathing reached me, speeding up in time with my mouth on her cock, driving me on to finish her. 

The next part would be tricky, and I decided to be cautious the first time. So when she came I let about half go down my throat before I stopped swallowing. It worked out pretty close, and I had almost a full mouthful of cum when she finished - not the greatest feeling in the world, but it was necessary and I'd need to get used to it. Once I was sure she'd stopped, I ported the couple feet up so we were kissing, and waited for her to open her lips fully. She wasn't expecting the port and stiffened, and for a second I was stuck between swallowing it myself or letting it run onto her face. But then she opened her mouth and I was able to let it all flow in. 

And it was a kiss. I wanted to keep it chaste - well, ok. I didn't want to keep it chaste. But I did my best, because we were going to be doing this a lot and neither of us needed complications. But it's hard to kiss a girl with her cum in your mouth without showing something - I'm not a robot - and I could feel her respond a bit. A second later she'd swallowed it all down, and I pulled up and off. We opened our eyes and locked gazes for a moment, and I felt a thump in my chest. And then I was back down, ready to work on number six. 

The heart doesn't take direction well, but maybe it will take a hint. Eventually. 

* * * 

I sat back on the beach and rubbed my aching jaw as the sun started to set. I glanced over at Refill. "Your college girlfriend did this for a month? She must have had jaws of iron." 

She flushed. "Not exactly. She'd do a few, then fill a bucket, and I'd replenish that." She shrugged. "Eight hours is pretty impressive though. Even with a break in the middle." 

My turn to blush, and be grateful for the fading light. Thankfully almost all supers - even those who aren't technically super strong/tough - seem to get a basic enhancement package, which includes faster healing and being in excellent shape. It makes for an... interesting sex life. Of course, it's also the reason Refill and I weren't burning like crazy from sun exposure here, so that was nice too. 

I was just glad it was over. And so far we'd seemed to dodge the 800-pound gorilla in the room, and were still just two people surviving. But all day I'd felt Refill reacting to me. She would reach for my head while I was sucking her, and pull back. Or react a bit more to our kissing than might be necessary. Of course she didn't know I could feel all of that, and I wasn't about to tell her, but it worried me. And to be fair, I'm by no means immune, and for most of the day I'd had an ache between my legs. But worry dominated my thoughts, as I tried to figure out how to stop this disaster I saw looming. 

So when she said, "Port... can I ask you a question?" I cringed inside. Was this it? But better to get it out of the way now. 

"Sure." 

She took a deep breath. "I just... your power is really amazing. Why are you a villain? Why aren't you a hero?" 

And with that cold knife to my heart, my worries about relationships were swept away. I heard my voice as if from a distance, sharp and curt. "None of your business." She started to stammer out an apology, but by then I was already away, retreating my few feet of safety to huddle alone in the night. I felt her over there, and cursed the day I'd learned to lip read when I felt her whisper my name. 

I knew I was over reacting, and I'd have to apologize in the morning. But for her to ask me that in that moment, after she'd accepted me the other day, felt like more than I could bear. I curled in on myself and let the tears take me.



Port and Refill Ch. 03



This story contains elements of futanari (girl with a penis) on female. All characters involved are at least 18 years old. 

*****

I swallowed down my share of Refill's third load of the morning while I tried to think.

We hadn't talked about yesterday. Conversation this morning had felt fragile, like it could easily shatter, and we'd both carefully talked about other subjects. But that had been almost worse - ignoring it just drew more attention, like not thinking about pink elephants. But we had biological needs, and after only a few minutes my stomach and parched throat encouraged me to re-acquaint myself with Refill's crotch, so here I was.

I finished swallowing, then collected and gave Refill her share. I carefully kept my eyes closed during the kiss, but I could feel hers on me. But I didn't want to think about yesterday, and I didn't want to think about Refill's obvious attraction to me. So I did the only thing I could.

I put both of them out of mind and started sucking her cock again. We'd talk later.

* * *

Of course, that didn't happen. As the day went by the tension from yesterday started to fade. And unfortunately it was one of those things where putting it off just made it harder to talk about - you know what I mean. Where the fact that you've ignored it for so long makes it harder to bring up, because now you also have the added awkwardness of the wait. Several times I opened my mouth to talk about it, to apologize or tell her the story, but I couldn't make the words come out. Instead we talked about other things, like speculating about the Professor and how long we'd be here, or telling stories about things we'd done as supers (for obvious reasons, I had a lot more of those, although I had to be careful about which ones I talked about).

The pattern continued over the next few days, and finally the tension over my hero/villain past seemed to fade away. But something else was rising and taking it's place, and it wasn't going away. No, it was doing the opposite. Refill was, slowly, losing the battle of her attraction to me. It confused me - I'm not saying I'm ugly, and I was technically the only game on the island - but it still felt out of proportion. Refill was acting like I was her dream girl, and I wasn't sure why. It wasn't helping that I was, basically, having some sort of sex with her for eight hours a day, and I knew that was confusing my emotions and hormones. I'm sure hers were even worse.

The signs were little things, nothing obvious. And to her defense, she was pretty good about hiding them - or she would have been if not for the fact that I basically had eyes in the back of my head. So I knew when she stared at me, lingering on my ass, breasts and face, especially when I did my daily Yoga routines. I knew when she touched her fingers to her lips after we kissed. And I felt her reach for me and then pull back while I was working on her, her hands wandering toward me. She would hover, hesitating, then retreat. But each time took longer and longer before she pulled back, and I knew at some point she'd make a move. I just had to decide what to do about it. 

Things came to a head on day eight.

* * *

She took me by surprise.

Normally that would be almost impossible, but I had gotten complacent. I knew her hand was there, hovering above my hip, even if she kept it carefully far enough away that normally it would be undetected. But she'd been doing exactly that for days, so I was unprepared when her hand came down and rested on my hip, just above my ass.

I froze in place, stopping on her cock, and waited. I was hoping that would be enough to discourage her. But she had obviously resolved to carry through, and a few seconds later her hand circled on my skin. I couldn't help but shiver slightly under her touch, and held my breath. Then her hand slid down, cupping my butt, and I had to act. The next second I was sitting next to her, cross-legged. She stared up at me, hand in the air, waiting.

I searched for words. I'd known this was coming, but no matter what I came up with I knew it was going to be a shitty conversation. I went with my first - and last - plan, and tried to make my voice gentle. "Refill, we can't."

Her voice was even. "Why?" I expected her to be surprised, or hurt. But I realized she had also been expecting this, and that threw me for a minute - if she knew I didn't want to, then why...? But I forged ahead. This was something I had to do.

"You asked me a few days back why I'm a villain, and not a hero."

She hadn't been expecting that, and her eyes widened as she started to sit up. "Port, what-"

I raised my hand, cutting her off. "You just took me by surprise the first time. I want to tell you, and it's part of why I stopped you." She still looked hesitant, but I made sure my face showed my resolve, and finally she nodded and pulled her legs up, sitting to listen. I took a deep breath and launched into my story.

"I was ten when the Asteroid hit. When things changed. I got my power that same day." I could still feel her listening intently, but I had faced away. I could still feel her, but it was still easier to talk without actually seeing her face. "I couldn't do nearly as much back then... but still, I saw the groups rise up. The Guardians, Easy Street, the Sentinel Six. All the heroes." My voice was soft. "And I wanted to be one of them more than anything. But I was too young."

I sat back, still staring at the ocean. "I trained constantly. It was the only thing I thought about, that I cared about. I was failing at school, my parents were worried sick, but I didn't care. I knew I was going to be a hero, that I'd get to fight evil with Ultimatum and Handful and all the rest. They'd set the cutoff at sixteen back then, and I applied to all the major hero groups literally on my birthday." I kept my voice even, but it was an effort. "And got rejected, sight unseen, by all of them."

I felt her jaw drop open, but I continued before she could say anything. "Looking back, I can see why they did it. The problem was that all the major teleporters at the time - Gateway, Magic Mirror, and the Great Escape - were all long-range and were used primarily for transport. Escape could go thousands of miles, and the other two were pretty much unlimited. So when I applied as a 16-year old girl with a half mile range..." I shrugged. "They didn't see the point. I hadn't listed any other major powers, so they classified me as trivial. I barely rated a call back." My voice felt distant, removed. It had been a long time since I'd talked about any of this, and even still I had to struggle to keep my emotions in check.

Her mouth closed, and we sat in silence for a bit. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, then continued. "I was... devastated. I tried to contact them, to get a second chance, but I couldn't even get anyone to talk to me, and eventually I got depressed. I think my parent's had hoped that after that I'd start caring about other things - school, my future - but I'd invested too much in being a hero, and without that nothing else seemed to matter much." I swallowed. "And then I got angry. Hell, I know it's not their fault now, but I'm still kind of angry at them. And then one day we were downtime, and I walked past this bank, and..." I hesitated - I'd almost said that I'd felt the money, but I still wanted to hold that power in reserve. "And I decided to show them. So I robbed it. I think a got a couple of million, which is crazy money when you're sixteen. It was easy. And that's how Port was born."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, her thinking and me trying to collect myself. I tensed when she reached out to me, but she just gave me a one armed hug and I accepted her sympathy. Her voice was quiet. "Thanks for telling me. But..." now her turn to hesitate. "What does that have to do with what happens now? With us?"

I re-organized my thoughts. Right. I pulled away and faced her again. I had to keep my voice firm. "Because when this is over, Refill, when we're rescued, this whole thing is going to be a huge story. A scandal." I indicated us. "The news is going to pounce on this, it's just too juicy. Remember my original reaction to feeding off of your cum? It's going to be that, but everywhere." I felt my voice starting to rise, and steadied myself. "I'm a villain. I'm a lost cause. But you're a hero, Refill. You're truth and justice and good and the American way. And the only way you get out of this with your reputation intact is if nothing else happens. If we only do what we have to do to survive, and absolutely nothing else. If we have sex..." I let my voice trail off, then finished quietly. "Then they'll tear you apart." I shook my head. "I mean there will be rumors no matter what, but if we hold back... you can still make it out of this ok. Eventually."

Her voice was hesitant. "I mean... ok. I guess I can see that. But what does that have to do with your story? Why-"

I shifted us, so I was facing her and holding her hands. My voice trembled with emotion, and I struggled to bring it under control. I had to make her see this, to do the right thing. "Because you're my dream, Refill." For the second time her jaw dropped open in shock, but I pushed forward. "You're a hero. You fight the bad guys. You're on a good team, people look up to you. You're," I swallowed hard, "you're what I wish I was. My could-have-been." I met her eyes, pleading with her to understand. "I can't be the reason that goes away. I can't," my voice caught, but I had to say this and I forced it out, "I can't make you a villain too." I looked down, and my voice was a whisper. "I can't ruin your life like I ruined mine."

I searched her face, for understanding and comprehension, but she had gone blank. I released her hands, and stepped back. "Just... think about it. Ok? It's for the best."

And then I was gone, as far away as I could go. I closed my eyes and felt her, still standing there, and for the first time in a long time I prayed. Hoping that she'd make the right choice.



Port and Refill Ch. 04



Warning: This story contains elements of futanari (girl with a penis) on female. All characters involved are at least 18 years old.  

***** 

It was a couple of hours later when she walked over to me. I'd just been staring out at the ocean, lost in thought. I felt hollow and light, empty of emotion but with less of a burden. It had been a long time since I'd talked to anyone about my past and my decisions, and I was surprised at how it had helped. And I was starting to feel the first bit of relief, of hope. Surely, she'd see my point and protect herself. She sat down next to me, and we just sat for a minute. Then she cleared her throat. And shattered my hope. 

"Do you want to have sex?" 

I stared at her. Her voice was confident and clear, and the words weren't what I expected to hear. I scrambled. "I... Refill, I told you. I don't want-" 

She cut me off. "I remember." Her voice softened. "And I appreciate it. But that's not what I'm asking you now." She paused a beat. "You told me why sex is a bad idea. You didn't tell me if you wanted it or not." 

I felt like I was floundering. Because the answer, of course, was yes. Refill was beautiful, intelligent, and she'd believed me. She'd trusted me, kept me alive. She was easy and fun to talk to. And she had a really nice cock. Blowing her was enough to get my motor running, so that was a go on the physical side too. But I couldn't let her do this. I was still searching for the right word when she gave a sigh and continued. 

"I read a lot of books. And there's this real common thing that drives me insane. Makes me want to reach in and smack the characters when they do it." Her voice was quiet. "They decide they know what's best for someone else. And in order to save or protect them, they sacrifice themselves, or they pull the it's for your own good bullshit. Like that someone else is a child, who's incapable of making rational decisions." 

I started to object, "I don't!..." but then trailed off. Because, at least to some extent, I had been. After a minute, she continued. 

"I get what you're doing. Like I said, I appreciate it. It's very heroic of you." Her voice was wry, and I flushed at the last. "But I'm an adult, right? Younger than you, but I can make my own decisions. Especially when someone's pointed out the consequences?" 

I stared at her, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of her logic. I could see the trap approaching, but no way around it, and my voice was a whisper. "...yes." 

She nodded at me. "Thank you. And so," and she took a deep breath, and enunciated each word carefully, "Do you want to have sex?" 

I closed my eyes as my mind whirled. I wanted to say no, to keep her from making this mistake. I had the feeling that she would know I was lying, but she'd take me at my word. And yet... she was right. It was her choice. Her life. And I wanted her to touch me, to make love to me. Even if I couldn't come, it would scratch that itch. I sat frozen, torn between the two paths, between fear and desire. She waited patiently as I struggled, trying to somehow weigh the two and do what was right. And eventually I reached my decision. 

I felt oddly calm as I opened my eyes and looked over at her. For a moment she took my breath away, nude on the beach, and I just drank her in with my eyes and my senses. But I owed her an answer, even if I hated saying it. My voice was a whisper, but I knew it would reach her ears. 

"Yes." 

* * * 

I've been kissed quite a few times. Sometimes it was awkward. Sometimes it was hot. Sometimes it was careful and fragile, sometimes it was mad and passionate, sometimes it managed to be all of that combined. Sex is occasionally contradictory like that. I'd never rated them, or kept a "top 5" kiss list or anything. But I do know one thing. 

Refill's kiss blew all the previous ones away. 

It wasn't with technical ability. Not to say that she was bad - this obviously wasn't her first tongue rodeo - but I knew one villainess who literally considering seduction a science, and Refill isn't quite in her league. No, Refill's kiss won with sheer passion. 

It felt like she was pouring her desire straight into my mouth, a tidal wave of wants and lusts and needs. She swept away my defenses, rendering me speechless and driving my internal monologue to new poetic heights. (I know that sounds like a joke, but no, really. She did). Her heavy breasts pressed into me, her nipples hard nubs rubbing into my skin. 

And even while I drowned in her kiss, my thoughts muddled and circling, just like before... I didn't understand it. I'm not special. I've never inspired anything like this before. So where did this come from? Why did Refill seem to want me so badly? Was this just how she was all the time, and I was the lucky recipient? 

I didn't trust it. I didn't want to trust it. It felt like that fairy tale happy ending, and the Hero establishment ruined those for me twenty years ago. I knew, in that rock solid irrational emotional spot that comes from past scars, that this wasn't real. That she just wanted my body. That somehow it would end badly, in tears. Maybe with me dying of thirst. And of course, I knew all that was bullshit - that Refill didn't have a duplicitous bone in her body - but I still couldn't seem to shake that belief, that knowledge. 

And once I made that determination, my mind calmed. Refill just wanted me for my body. She was young and horny, and couldn't control herself. That's all this was. I could explain that to her, repeat the consequences when this got out, and tell her no. She wouldn't try to force me. 

She broke the kiss, and I gasped for air, trying to think of the words to convince her. But I was derailed by the look on her face. She was staring down at me as she held me in her arms, grinning like a fool, and her eyes were sparkling. It made me... uncomfortable. And I found all the words I'd planned had fled, and all I could say was, "What?" 

Her grin widened, and she knelt down and kissed my forehead. "Ok." 

I frowned. She continued smiling. My frown deepened. "You're going to have to give me more than that." 

She leaned down and kissed me again, on the lips, and again I felt that passion, lusts, and desire. But... restrained. She hugged me tight. "Ok, we'll wait. Since it's important to you." 

I stared up at her, uncomprehending. And then understanding bloomed. I felt my delusional house-of-cards reasoning start to come tumbling down. "Wait. You... you don't want to have sex with me?" 

She shook her head, and then kissed me again. I was finding it increasingly difficult to think each time her lips touched mine. Her voice was soft. "I want to make love to you more than almost anything. I want to take you in my arms, I want to plunge into you, I want to fuck like bunnies. I want all of you, all the time." I flushed at her description, getting redder and redder as she went on. But she wasn't finished. 

"But you think it's important to wait. And it's not fair to ask you to trust me, and for me not to trust you. I'm not sure I agree with all your reasons, but if they're good enough for you, they're good enough for me." 

Carefully she shifted us so I was on my back, and she curled around me, an arm cradling my head and her leg across mine. Her cock was hard against my hip, but she didn't rub me or do anything with it, and I mentally gave her a cookie. She stroked my hair and then kissed it. "I know I threw you a curveball, so just think about it for a while, ok? I'll wait." Then she closed her eyes and just held me. 

I sat there on my back and tried to think. I started to muster some outrage over the possessive position she was in with me - you know the one, it seems to come naturally with having a penis - but couldn't find any traction. It's hard to believe someone just wants to own you when they respect your opinion enough to wait even after you've said "go". I examined my earlier rationalizations that she'd effortlessly dismantled, then shrugged mentally and discarded the whole thing. 

I felt emotionally whiplashed from the past five minutes. Strung out, uncertain but hopeful, horny and unsatisfied. I wasn't sure how this would work. I wasn't sure what we were waiting for, or what would change when we got off this island. But in her arms, in that moment, despite everything... I felt happy and safe. And I decided that I'd enjoy that, even if just for now. 

I turned my head to block the sun and snuggled under her chin. Then I closed my eyes and dropped off into dreamless sleep. 

* * * 

The next few days was what I imagine high school was like. Well, if you were trapped naked with your crush on an otherwise deserted island. And if you had to blow her for eight hours a day to survive. And if you were over a decade older. 

Ok, so it wasn't really like high school at all. But it felt like young love. 

We took long walks on the beach. Partially because, well, that was pretty much the start and end of our "things to do" list, at least that didn't involve someone's genitals. But it also did feel romantic, especially at sunset. We did the new couple touchy-feely thing, constantly holding hands, hugging, maybe a little groping. We both held back - which was silly considering our current diet - but it still felt easier to stay just on the other side of that invisible line. 

And we talked and told more stories. Refill told me about her hero training, and how someone with her power ends up a mech pilot. I told her some carefully edited heist hijinks. And we had a superpowered prank story contest, which I easily won despite what Refill might tell you. I don't care that I almost died laughing at what she did to her stuck up valedictorian during his graduation speech. You haven't been truly pranked until it involves a locked room mystery, a goat, and a jar of vaseline. 

True to her word, Refill was a perfect gentlewoman the entire time, minus the mutual minor groping that I usually initiated. I'm sure it helped that she was having tons of orgasms every day, but she never pushed, never even hinted at more. Well, at least verbally - the boners were a clue - but she never acted on them. She took me at my word and respected my decisions. 

It was incredibly frustrating. 

I mean, look. I'm not a romance novel heroine. I didn't want her to throw me to the ground and take me over my protests. But even if I can't go all the way to the big O, I have needs that I like to be satisfied, and this island is way too small for masturbation. Now I was in a situation where I'd literally cock-blocked myself, and changing my mind would be self-serving and hypocritical. 

I lasted five days. 

* * * 

It was noon, I was on blowjob number 15, I had about five inches of Refill down my throat, and I was trying to channel my inner Bill Clinton. Ew. Ok, that came out really wrong. What I mean is that I was trying to figure out the definition of "is". As in where, exactly, was my "this is sex" barrier. 

Obviously I wasn't getting any cock. But really, fingering wasn't any worse than what we were doing now, right? And what about oral sex? If she ate me out once or twice, would that really register compared to all the blowjobs? I knew I was back to rationalizations and tried to shut down my thought process, but the pulsing between my legs was keeping me from having much success. 

It didn't help that she'd escalated her touching whenever I was going down on her. Nothing bad or forceful - just light caresses - but she didn't feel like she had to leave me totally alone anymore. And while I've never found blowjobs to be really pleasurable physically, there's definitely a psychological component to them - of being in control of your partner's pleasure - that does it for me. Her touches, letting me know she was enjoying herself, just fed back into that. Granted it's a bit muted when you're doing double digits on a daily basis, but it was still there. And when I snowballed her to transfer her share of the cum... man. Those kisses were getting hot, with some not-so-dry humping involved. 

It was one of those that undid me. It started out fairly normal. I swallowed my half, then ported up and kissed her. But apparently my subconscious was trying to be heard, because instead of being to her side like I usually was, I was straddling her instead. Our bodies melded, our breasts smashed together (hers were winning). We both froze for a second, but a mouthful of cum is a strong impetuous to do something quickly, and I mentally shrugged and decided to go with it. I opened my mouth and felt her relax and reciprocate, her cum flowing between us as we made out like teennagers. 

It was a fairly innocent movement. Her hands came up and caressed my back, then went lower. I almost whined when she skipped my ass and instead settled them just below. Fuck holding back, I wanted her to grab my butt, and my currently passion-filled brain knew the best way to do that. I shifted myself down a few inches so her hands would be forced up. Then gasped as the tip of her cock brushed my clit. 

It was like an electric shock, a jolt to my system that made my nerves sing and froze me for a timeless moment. And then I was in a frenzy. Weeks of sexual tension unleashed and my half-assed makeout session turned into a full-on gropefest. I gyrated my hips, sliding up and down. Each time my pussy brushed Refill's cock I would twitch, she would make a small noise and I'd get turned on more. I lifted myself slightly to free my hands, and then moaned in pleasure as I filled them with her breasts. I marvelled at their heft and weight, and in her shuddering reaction and arched back when I found her nipples with my thumbs. 

Her hands had moved up (score one for passion-filled logic) and I whimpered in pleasure as her strong fingers dug into my ass, pulling me tight against her. She stared up at me, eyes wide, wild, and filled to the brim with lust. Experimentally I pushed down on one nipple, and watched in fascination as her eyelids fluttered and she bit her lip to keep from making noise. Her mouth opened before I could do anything else, and she said the last thing I expected. "If we're going to stop," and a deep breath, "you need to do it." 

For a moment I was puzzled and a bit insulted. Then she closed her eyes and arched into me again, pressing her cock hard between my legs, and I understood. Of course she didn't want to stop. She was still trying to give me a choice. 

I fought back against the pleasure, the sheer relief of letting go and enjoying our bodies together, and tried to think. We should stop. But I didn't want to, and I wasn't sure I could. Or at least, not completely. 

It was the work of an instant to change things around. And then I was still straddling her, but now I was looking down at her face between my legs. She had that moment of startlement that she always gets when I reposition us, and then she smiled up at me. She turned her head and kissed the inside of my thigh, and I trembled under her lips. Then her tongue flickered out and ran up my leg to my clit, and my world exploded. 

A dim part of me was raising increasingly strident alarms, but the rest of my body outvoted it. My hands curled through Refill's hair, most of my weight on her hands as she held me up by the butt. Even though I wanted to, I couldn't help or move - it was all I could do to keep from collapsing as she skillfully worked between my legs. Waves of pleasure cycled through me, running from my pussy and up my spine, drawing squeaks and moans and other sophisticated sounds from me in a pulsing, erratic rhythm. 

I closed my eyes and my world contracted until only Refill and I existed, and I felt myself start to build toward orgasm, each wave of pleasure larger than the last. And finally the alarms reached me, and I jerked in place. I opened my mouth to say something, to stop her, but I had no breath left for words. She interrupted my jerk - correctly, actually - to mean I was close, and redoubled her efforts. 

I knew I could do something to stop this. But the rest of the universe had ceased to exists, and what exactly I could do eluded me. Refill was insistent, her attention now solely on my sensitive nub, and I couldn't think through the pleasure, couldn't concentrate enough to do anything but hold on. Struggling, I opened my eyes, hoping that would help restore my senses. I stared. For a moment, I couldn't comprehend what I was seeing. Then it clicked. 

I shrieked and acted on instinct. In this case that meant porting us out to sea, and Refill's scream of shock was interrupted as she went under and the ocean cut her off. I panicked and started to dive after her, but she quickly swam up and surfaced, sputtering questions at me. 

I sat there, treading water, and tried to figure out how to tell her that the rest of her team - The Flying Five - had arrived on the island. And had been watching, in various states of disbelief, as she ate me out. 

***** 

Author's note: I started this just to be writing something. At that point it was intended to just be a fairly short smut story. But Port and Refill had other ideas on where things were going, and I think overall it's far better for that. Unfortunately, it does mean that plot and events are going to get in the way of smut, so this will be the last chapter for a while that has actual sex. 

If you're here for Port and Refill, stick around. You'll get superheros, flashbacks, history and world building. And maybe a bit of risque prose and romance. 

If you're just here for the smut... well, come back around chapter 10. You might be a bit confused, but hopefully you'll still find it hot.



Port and Refill Ch. 05-06



Author's Note: I'll be combining some of the pure plot/story chapter uploads where it makes sense. 5-6 together here, probably 7 standalone, then 8-9. 

Chapter 5 

"Well, fuck." 

I agreed with her, but it still made me frown. And then I got mad at myself. I needed to stop taking everything she said in the worst possible way. It wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't good for us. But then my train of thought was interrupted as she gathered me in her arms. "Refill, what-" 

She cut off my words with another scorching kiss, and for a moment all I could feel was her pressed against me and the taste of myself on her lips. Then the water closed over our heads, and it was my turn to surface while spitting out water and glaring. Only to discover her grinning. 

I tried to pout, but couldn't hold it. "You did that on purpose." 

Her grin widened. "Yep." 

I cocked my head. "Payback?" 

She took a moment to consider that. Then shook her head. "Getting in a prank war with you would be a bad idea for both of us. Let's call it flirting." 

I arched an eyebrow. But she interrupted our banter avoidance-mechanism. I felt her hand grab mine, and squeeze, her face serious. "I don't mind them knowing. I just..." her voice trailed off, and she flushed. 

"You wish they hadn't found out like that." 

She nodded vigorously. "Yeah. The whole thing was just crappy timing. What are the odds?" 

I opened my mouth to respond, but something struck me about her sentence. I took a second to think about it. And then I was counting days and cursing up a storm. Refill just stared at me, waiting me out and looking slightly impressed. Finally I wound down, and in response to her inquisitive look I said one word. "Murphy." 

She still looked puzzled, so I elaborated. "The bad-luck guy." Lightbulb. I hesitated. But she'd need some explanation, so I continued. "I kinda-sorta owe money to the mafia, and they use him as an enforcer. And my payment was due yesterday." 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and for a moment I thought my eyes were going to bulge out as her chest expanded and started rising out of the waves. But I managed to get back to neutral and on target by the time she opened them again. Her voice was extremely neutral. "Mafia." 

I winced. "I don't actually need the money. And I don't do many jobs for them. They're just not a fan of independent operators. The fact that I owe them money makes them feel safe, so they don't come after me." 

Her expression eased. "Makes sense. Just never thought of things like that." She looked thoughtful. "But we're being rescued. How is that bad luck?" 

I shrugged. "I've only heard stories from now. But Murphy can fine-tune things. This is more of a warning than anything serious. Like bad-but-not-horrible luck as a first step." 

She grinned at my wording. Then pulled me in for another short kiss that left me short of breath. Her hand tightened around mine even as her smile faded. "It sucks, but we need to head back." 

I nodded, but... I turned slightly. Then pointed behind her. "Actually, I think they're coming to us." 

* * * 

I stared, fascinated. I'd heard of Sandstorm, but this was my first time seeing him in person. He was riding some sort of hovering wheelless skateboard, wearing a hijab over flowing robes, and sporting a really magnificent beard. And he had some sort of cyberpunk looking HUD thing over one eye. I was starting to understand why Refill was on his team, and some of the hysteria he inspired. And I approved, but I was really more interested in that board. 

"Does he sell those?" I whispered to Refill. 

She glanced at me, looking amused. "Don't let him know you're a fan. But wait til you see his Delorean." 

I stared at her blankly. "What's so special about a car?" 

She looked like I had asked her what two plus blue was. But she was saved from answering when Sandstorm stopped right over us and cleared his throat. 

"Refill." He nodded at her, and gave a warm smile. "It's good to see you. We honestly didn't think you'd be alive." He shifted his gaze to me, and his entire manner turned that extreme no expression that only means one thing. I tensed, then forced myself to relax. It was better than open hostility. "Port." Just my name, no inflection at all. Wonderful. Still, I made myself smile up at him. 

I cleared my throat. "Sorry about taking us out here. You just... startled me." I felt like shifting in place, but that's a pretty complicated maneuver when you're treading water. "I can take us back now if you want. I'm not trying to run away, really. But uh, some clothes would be nice." 

He stroked his beard, then nodded. "We have some robes you two can borrow. I'll bring them out..." his voice trailed off as I shook my head. 

"Just take them out and I'll grab them on the way by. And, um, please keep everyone away from the far side, opposite where your skyship thing is hovering?" 

He nodded, then turned to Refill. He hesitated, like he wanted to say something else, then just shook his head and started flying back. 

Refill pulled me toward her, and I didn't resist as she pulled me into a hug, her arms around me from behind. Her legs were working overtime as she held us up, her voice gentle in my ear. "It'll be fine. I promise." 

I didn't really believe her, but I nodded anyway and enjoyed being in her arms. It wouldn't change anything. I'd forgotten this attitude in the past couple of weeks. Refill had made me forget it, and that thought briefly chased away my dark mood. But then it returned with a vengeance. Sandstorm was an in-your-face assault on normality. He was, quite literally, all about tolerance and justice. If he was reacting this way to me... well. Then the rest of today was going to royally suck, and there was nothing I could do about it. 

* * * 

We walked across the island toward the group. I'd gently disengaged my hand from Refill - I didn't want to hide it, but throwing our relationship in their face wasn't going to go over well either. I also kept my eyes away from Refill, although the mental image of her filling that robe was filed away in my spank bank. 

Sandstorm was in the middle. The leader and a techy, if I recalled right. To his right was a figure I recognized, and I felt a true smile blossom on my face for the first time since Sandstorm had said my name. The Iron Boss was a strongman standing almost ten feet tall, and originally from Europe where the hero/villain lines get a lot more blurred. We'd actually met a couple of times and gotten along ok, and my hope of getting through this without a fight rose. He smiled gently at me and I nodded back. 

To his left were two unknowns. I knew their codenames and rough powers, but not much else. Cowboy Hiphop was some sort of weird gunman with sound powers and no expression on his face. And next to him... 

I faltered for a second, and she smirked as I stumbled. But her eyes blazed with a molten fury that made the sun seem mild in comparison. I upgraded Sandstorm's earlier "neutral" to "BFFs" by comparison. Buzz Cut, one of the top electricity supers in the country. 

And judging by the expression on her face when she looks at Refill, and the way Refill is avoiding both of our gazes... yep. Truly awesome. She was Refill's ex. I damned Refill for not giving me a heads up about this. 

Team romance drama and a villain rival. I sighed and mentally started preparing for a brawl. 

* * * 

Refill and her teammates had a joyful reunion. Well, minus Buzz Cut. She kept to the side and alternated looking hurt and staring daggers at me. I looked anywhere but at her and did my best to look harmless, which isn't hard when you're five foot nothing and wearing only a fancy bathrobe. 

I realized suddenly that everyone was turning to look at me, and I turned and smiled weakly. My small wave and "Hi," didn't go over well either. We all stared at eachother for a second, then Refill took a breath and stepped toward me. But I'm not sure what she was going to do, because the Iron Boss chose that moment to move. 

"Port!" His voice was the deep boom I remembered, and my smile was genuine as he strode toward me. 

"Hey, Boss. Long time no- hey!" I resisted unsuccessfully as he lifted me and gave me a carefully non-bone-crushing hug. When it went on a bit too long I poked his ribs. "You stop that right now or I'm going to put you face first in the sand." 

His laughter shook me, then he carefully set me down. "See? Feisty. Why I like you, Port. Even if you were lead astray." He patted my head and shook his head sorrowfully, which I endured for a moment because it was making Coyboy laugh and Sandstorm fight back a smile, and I wanted as many of them on my side as I could manage. 

Then I gave him my best scowl. "Am I going to have to put you in your place later?" But then I had to laugh as he mock cowered. And for just a second I thought maybe this was all going to be all right. 

"I think I'm going to be sick." 

It would have been nice if her voice was as ugly as her words, but it was beautiful. She continued mercilessly. "She's a fucking villain and you're all fawning over her. Have you forgotten what she's done? She was probably put here by the Professor to watch Refill, and just because she tricked and seduced her you're all ready to laugh and forget?" 

I heard Refill start a hot denial as they exploded into argument, but I tuned it out. I shivered under Buzz Cut's raw hostility and damned myself for bothering to hope. I'd known this would be bad, expected it even... but Refill and the Boss had made me think maybe things would be different. Absently I tracked the argument behind me, and I was resigned - but not surprised - when Sandstorm cut the argument short with a tired voice and told Buzz Cut to arrest me. And I was happy when Refill protested, but I knew it wasn't going to make a difference. 

I felt her walk up behind me, and didn't resist when she sat down next to me and hugged me close. I felt numb, but her "Sorry" washed over me like a balm, and I sighed. "It's fine, Refill. I knew this was coming. You don't have any choice." I leaned into her and closed my eyes. "And not that I don't appreciate the support, but don't ruin things for yourself trying to defend me. I have a plan. Please, just trust me." 

She kissed my temple, but I could feel Buzz Cut approaching I wanted to meet her on my feet. She had... she had... 

I don't remember porting. But I was on the water's edge on the other side of the island away from her, mouth dry and heart pounding. And staring like a mouse caught in a trap at the simple silver circle Buzz Cut was carrying in her hands. Dark red lips flashed in my memory, and I shuddered and tried to keep from shivering. I felt my mouth open, and the next word that fell from my lips came against my will. "Mayhem." 

Oh, god. Why hadn't I expected this. 

Chapter 6 

Buzz Cut's lips curled. "Oh, please, Port. Please fight. That would just make my fucking day." 

I wanted to respond, to refute her. But the panic was overwhelming, I felt like I was drowning. The device in her hands filled my vision, and I stumbled and almost fell to my knees as I remembered dark red lips again. But I struggled. No. No, I wouldn't... wouldn't let her win. My voice was soft, and I had to force to raise it. "I'm not..." I trailed off as I realized I was moving away from her as she circled. "Please, just give me a moment, I can't..." I hated the pleading vulnerability in my voice, but I couldn't seem to help it. 

"Oh, bullshit. You thought we'd just let you come back unfettered and escape? You're going to be collared like the worthless animal you are." Her eyes blazed as she stalked forward and I backed away, helpless to stop myself. 

She clicked the circlet open and shut, and the sound drove me to my knees. I heard Refill yelling to leave me alone, but Buzz Cut overrode her, raw fury in her words. "That's her fucking plan, Refill! She used you! She was going to use us! Who knows what she already got out of you? She thought she could just waltz into our base, then leave and report back. And now her plan is ruined and she's panicking." 

I looked up wildly, and the expression on Refill's face broke my heart. The way they were all looking at me... I had no defense against that accusation. I didn't understand how this all went so wrong, so fast. My lips opened in a soundless "No." And then I was next to her. I grabbed her hands, but she just stared at me. I was babbling. "I didn't- I don't- please, Refill. I just, let me explain, I..." she stepped away from me, and my voice trailed off. My heart turned to stone, and I dropped to my knees again. I felt like curling into a ball and weeping until this all went away. 

Buzz Cut was standing over me, and I looked up at her dully. She clicked open the circlet, her face triumphant, and leaned down to click it around my neck. I saw ruby lips. Mayhem. But... 

Not again. No. 

She stumbled as I suddenly wasn't there, but I had no room for amusement, no room for fear. My fury rose and overrode the panic, reason, everything. The circlet was forgotten, only a danger if I chose not to resist. I took a breath to keep from literally shaking. This... this fucking jealous bitch... had ruined everything. For me. But mostly, for Refill. I cracked my knuckles. 

Make her fucking day? Hell. I was going to make her fucking year. 

* * * 

Her mad smile would have made me wince ten years ago, but I've seen worse since. And I was way too angry to back down. Her voice was gleeful. "You're resisting arrest." Her other hand rose up, electricity building. 

I smiled back at her, forcing myself to appear calm mostly to see her eye tic at my lack of response. "Who, me? I'm just standing here." 

She gritted her teeth. "Not for long." And then lunged at me, hand extended. Sandstorm yelled something in the background that we both ignored. 

Now, people tend to think about teleportation as a pure movement power. Going from point A to point B. But the reality is more complicated. Think about Gateway travelling across half the planet. The entire world is rotating, right? He'd be upside down, going thousands of miles per hour on the other side. Or me - I can port into a moving car. It takes more energy, but I can do it. Which means that teleportation isn't just about movement. It's also about orientation. And more importantly right now, about velocity. 

Buzz Cut promptly lost her feet as I flickered toward her and touched her shoulder, doing an in-place shift to rotate her thirty degrees and set her spinning. She face planted hard, making a satisfying thunk as sand sprayed away from her head. 

I mock tripped and landed on her back. She was too tough for it to hurt her, but I was just aiming to make her angry at this point. "Oh, shoot. How clumsy of me." I turned, sitting on her, and smelled ozone. I was twenty yards away when lightning struck out of the clear sky, and I smiled at her as she rose out of the whole in the sand, hair steaming. My voice was mocking. "Oh, you missed again. You're not very good at this." 

She screamed in frustration and took a step toward me. But then Sandstorm stepped in and cut in front of her, and my heart fell. I'd hoped the rest of them would stay out of this. His voice was calm as he spoke to me. "Surely you see this is pointless, Port. You can't hope to defeat all of us." 

I struggled against my rage. To be reasonable. I knew I was being dumb, that I was egging Buzz Cut on. I wasn't sure why she was setting me off so much, so I forced my anger down to a more manageable level. I was surprised at how even my voice was. "I am not letting her put that thing on me." 

He nodded. Not in agreement, but acknowledging my statement. His tone was gentle. "And someone else?" 

I hesitated. I thought I could trust Sandstorm. Maybe. Cowboy I didn't know. I didn't want to remember Refill putting that on me. But... the Boss. I'd known him for a long time. He was a good guy, never heard anything bad. No matter what, this was going to be horrible. But maybe I could let him do it and hold things together. 

I opened my mouth to respond. And Buzz Cut chose that moment to sidestep Sandstorm and run at me, screaming obscenities. 

My rage flared back up. She was covered in electricity now, but... I shifted in front of her and dug my feet in, then ported the sand into the air, making a cloud. She stumbled, blinded, and her electricity went out. And then I had her head in my hand and I rode her into the sand, shoving her face down with shift-assisted speed. I was shouting. "Goddamit! Stay the fuck out of this!" 

I stopped, my heart sinking as I felt what was going on around me. Cowboy running toward us, drawing one of his guns. Sandstorm going for his belt, and shouting something about non-lethal protocols. The Boss moving forward, steps regretful but knowing his duty. And Refill off to the side, a frozen statue. 

And then there was no time for thought as Cowboy drew and fired. It was on. 

* * * 

My world was one of reactions. Reflexes from a year of combat training in my seriously misspent youth - before I decided permanently on thief, and not assassin - took over. My awareness imploded. Only the island, my opponents, and I existed. I labeled Refill as an Innocent Bystander to protect, terrifyingly vulnerable without her suit. And then I had to move. 

I shifted Buzz up in my place to take Cowboy's bullet, safe since I could tell it was abnormal and Sandstorm had called non-lethal. She jerked and stumbled but didn't go down. Sandstorm threw several drones in the air, and I stood still as they fired nets at me. Then I ported in a blur, ending behind the Boss while Cowboy fell to the ground, stunned and entangled where I'd stood a fraction of a second ago. 

The Boss tried for me, but strong isn't that useful against some opponents. Hero fights are Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock on magic and steroids. I barely had to port at all to keep ahead of him, his arms slow and predictable. I felt Buzz charging at me, speeding herself up in a blur and using the Boss in an attempt to blindside me. I ducked a giant arm even as I gave him a mental apology, then shifted next to her and redirected her charge. She slammed into his stomach with a boom, and both of them went flying into the water. I took a heartbeat to make sure Buzz was conscious and not drowning, then concentrated back on the fight. 

Sandstorm had stopped and was studying me, drones orbiting as they analyzed and scanned. The Cowboy was out of it. I knew this was pointless - even if I beat them all up, I couldn't actually escape - and I wondered if I could stop now and surrender. Refill... I swallowed hard. And stumbled as the world came back. I ported in front of her. I searched her face for any sign of forgiveness, and myself for words that would make this right. 

It was so stupid. Such an amateur mistake. Buzz Cut didn't announce herself this time. My only warning was the crackle of electricity as she flung the bolt at me. But I'm fast, extraordinarily so for a teleporter. Reflex took over, and I was ten yards away watching her shoot her bolt. Directly at Refill. 

I was barely quick enough. But all I felt was relief as the electricity crashed through me and darkness rose up.



Port and Refill Ch. 07



Author's Note: While not explicit, this chapter contains significant elements of non-consent, reluctance, and trauma. It was extremely hard on me to write. If you have any related triggers, please tread carefully.

Chapter 7

I pause. Something feels... off. I stretch out my senses, but there is nothing wrong, nothing out of place. I shrug off my unease and port to the middle of the room. I start examining the painting closely, looking for the alarms I know I will need to bypass. Then I stagger as the collar materializes around my neck.

I fall to the ground as the universe cuts off. I reach for my neck, but pain pulses through me as I touch it and I can't hold back the scream that rips out of me. And then I am sobbing uncontrollably. I know nothing. I can see and hear, but I can't feel, and that is so much worse than being blind and deaf. Footsteps start toward me, and I jerk away, startled and fearful. I want to be gone and away, but my body stays stubbornly in place.

The figure is in all black, her magician's outfit figure-hugging and subtly revealing. The only color is her lips - her dark red lipstick - and I draw away from her, whimpering. Even her eyes are a soft grey. She stares down at me, those lips curving into a cruel smile, and I freeze. I want to run, to hide, but I am paralyzed by her predatory stare. There is a dangerous gleam in her eye as she speaks. "Interesting."

She waves her hand at me, and I float up over her shoulder, head looking down her back. Her hand comes to rest casually on my backside, and I flinch away from her touch.

The second voice comes from behind me, identical but far different in tone, sounding bored by the whole thing. "Stop messing around and get her booked. I need to authorize the press release." I can't help but try to jerk away again. The universe is a mystery to me for the first time in years as I am cut down to only what nature originally endowed me with, and my panic feeds on itself, growing uncontrollably. I start to thrash back and forth. I need to escape this, to get away, anything. The hand on my backside lifts and then slaps me hard, oddly silent, and I freeze in place. I try to cry out but my voice has also been muted, so I watch my tears fall to the ground unaccompanied.

The figure under me is amused as she responds. "Don't worry. I'll take care of her. Promise." I shiver. Then my eyes grow wide as the hand on my backside moves between my legs, caressing me through cloth that is suddenly all too thin. I look up, but the figure in white - otherwise a twin of the one holding me - is facing away, opening a portal and disappearing through it.

Another wave of a hand, and my sobs and cries fill the room. The voice under me has gained a cruel edge. "Oh, you are wonderful. Such a lovely reaction to that toy around your neck. We are going to have so much fun together." Her fingers speed up, and despite everything I feel my hips wanting to move, an unnatural arousal rising through me. I lock them in place, but she feels my muscle tension and simply laughs, a happy delighted sound that's a sharp contrast to her actions. I feel myself move in the air, and then I am floating in front of her. She is still relentlessly working my clit, and I struggle to keep my sobs from turning into something else.

She moves forward, and I stare at her lips to keep away from her eyes. She is directly in front of me, inches away. I should attack her, do something, but I am helpless. Worthless. Her voice is a whisper. "You should stop fighting me, Port. You are mine now. My pitiful sister is gone, and it's just me and you." Her voice turns conversational. "I know you know who I am. Just say my name, and I'll stop." Her smile grows. "I promise."

I stare at her in terror. Of course I know. One of the two most powerful supers in the world. One of the greatest heros. One of my idols, once upon a time. Her fingers speed up, but her voice is unchanging. "Say my name, Port."

I can't fight her. I can't help it. I whisper it through my sobs, even as voice changes, my body betraying me as I start rubbing my crotch against her.

"Mayhem."

* * *

I wake screaming.

I tear away the blankets, and relief floods me as I'm unrestrained. But... no. Oh god. My hands shoot up, but stop inches from the circlet I can feel around my neck. I want to rip it off, but the memory of pain holds me back. I lower my shaking arms, tears blurring my vision.

I stumble out of the bed. I haven't had to walk without my powers in years, and I miss a step and fall hard, jarring my hand as I try to catch myself. I cry out in pain, and the sound makes me realize that something else is also making noise.

Pure panic. I can't feel behind me. I whirl in a circle on the floor, I know that she's behind me, and I sob with relief as I see that I'm still alone. But I can't stay here. I ignore the shouts and scramble toward a corner, hands and feet because I don't trust my legs. The slam as I throw my back into the walls drives the breath from my body, but I ignore it. I have something solid behind me. It is an effort to relearn to use my eyes, but I can watch everything from here, and slowly I feel myself begin to back away from the edge, even as I look madly back and forth, up and down, trying to see everything at once.

I want to close my eyes, to meditate, but I can barely make myself blink. I want to bury my head in my arms, but that would make me blind again. I concentrate simply on existing and not falling into the pit of despair that looms in my thoughts.

* * *

Time passes. I knew it was happening but I have no sense of how much. I exist in limbo. I tremble in fear as I feel my eyes grow heavy, even as I move them faster. The idea of lying down and deliberately closing them is excruciating.

The voice has grown silent, but it starts up again. Another joins it. I glance over intermittently, the door normally only in the corner of my vision. There is one large figure barely visible, and a smaller one wearing a uniform. I think they are arguing, but I have no attention left to spare for words. There is a loud slam and I half fall over before pulling myself back up.

I start to shake as the door opens. My, "no," isn't even a whisper. I can barely keep from spoiling myself as the large figure approaches. I feel my mouth moving, praying, but I have no idea what words I am saying, if any.

It squats down in front of me, still terrifying large, and I try to shrink back. One impossibly huge hand reaches down and gently touches my knee. I want to pull away, but I feel... fur?

No. Hair. I... I look at him. My brain feels frozen. It seems like it takes hours for perception to fully restart, but I know... I mouth his name. Then softly, unbelievingly. "Boss?"

His grin was like the sunset. He says my name - I had a name again - "Port." Then opened his hands wide. And with a sob, I threw myself into them. I am - I was - Port.

His arms circled around me, like the world's strongest fuzziest teddy bear, and I could finally let go. I sobbed and screamed and whimpered, while he held me and stroked my back, repeating my name over and over. But eventually, finally, I was done. I felt hollowed and impossibly calm. My panic was still there on the other side of an invisible emotional wall, only the Boss's presence holding it back. But I could think. I looked up at him and gave a tremulous smile. "Thank you." My voice was hoarse and soft, but he grinned again and patted my head.

He shifts so his back is against the wall, and I watched, detached, as the room whirled around me. He spoke my name, quieter than I've ever heard him. This time it's a question. "Port."

I searched his eyes. "Yes?"

He looked serious. "What do you remember?"

I hesitated. And then it rips through me, and I wanted to cry all over again. The fight. Me egging Buzz on. Refill. Oh gods, Refill. How could I have forgotten her, even for a minute. Let alone for what must have been hours. I damned Mayhem all over again as I tried to keep from falling apart again. I looked up at him and couldn't make myself ask, but he guessed, and my heart eased as he smiled. "She is fine. You were in time."

My breath left me in rush of pure relief, and I coughed as it irritated my sore throat. After I recovered I give his arm a hug. "Thank you."

He smiled again, then went back to serious. I had to strain to hear him. "Port. Your reaction," I tensed, but waited for him to continue, "My daughter. She was the same."

I stared up at him, confused. Then it hit me. He thought he knew why I was panicking. And he was half right - I was still on the edge of hysteria over having my powers suppressed. His daughter must also have enhanced sense. I wondered when she had been collared.

He continued. "I cannot remove it. I would if I could. But," and he leaned down, "I can do this. I give you my oath, Port. While you wear this," and he tapped it with one giant finger, "while I draw breath, I will be your shield. Your wall. I will watch you and protect you. You are safe." He emphasized the last word, hard and sharp.

I stared up at him, wordless. I opened my mouth to protest, but it caught in my throat. He was staring off into space, and that look in his eyes... and he'd said "was". So I swallowed down the words I wouldn't have meant anyway, and just said "Thank you," again. His expression eased, and he leaned back, cradling and rocking me.

His words were soft. "Sleep, little one. You must recover still. I will be here." And then he started humming, some song I didn't know, but the sound soothing and gentle as it vibrated through my body.

And I did what I thought was impossible a few minutes ago. I closed my eyes and let unconsciousness take me.

* * *

Assholes were disturbing my happy place.

I drifted out of sleep slowly. Memory returned with it. I cringed mentally at the fight. I couldn't believe how mind-numbingly stupid, how idiotic, how out of control I'd been. I'd escalated at every turn. I'd endangered a team of heros. I'd forgotten that being aware is useless if you don't pay attention, and almost gotten Refill killed. How could I ask her to forgive me? I could barely forgive myself. I clung to the fact that she was alive and safe.

I wanted to sit, safe in the Boss's arm, and wallow in my misery. But the argument going on outside my cell was getting louder and impossible to ignore.

"-get him out of there. Now. This is highly against regulations-"

"-told you. He swore an oath. He takes it seriously. Besides, you saw the tape. He's comforting her, she had a panic attack-

"-are you kidding me? It's a trick. I thought you knew better than that, sir. The little tramp pulls some act to get off on a technicality-"

The Boss's growl filled the room. I looked up at him. If he'd been looking at me like that I'd have run away, even if I was Paper to his Spock. Since he was being my wall though, I closed my eyes and got to be happy as his voice filled with menace.

"Little man, if you ever say that again, I will challenge you."

There was a pause. The guy's voice was noticeably higher. "Y-you can't-"

Sandstorm cut in. Smooth, but with an undercurrent of anger I hadn't caught before. "Actually, he can. Supercut vs Indiana, 2003."

There was another pregnant pause, and I almost felt like giggling. Then he finally muttered something about his supervisor, and his footsteps retreated, almost - but not quite - at a run.

Sandstorm's voice was calm again. "Petty little coward." The Boss snorted, and this time I did giggle. I heard Sandstorm move up to the door, and then hesitate. His voice softened. "May I come in?"

I nodded against the Boss's arm, and he must have made some motion because I heard Sandstorm approach. He stopped a few feet away, and with an effort I wiggled and turned in the Boss's arms, then opened my eyes and looked at him. And then re-closed them and looked again.

He was wearing a suit - and even in this state I could tell it was exquisitely tailored - and his hijab. And that beard... the laughter bubbled out of me. I couldn't stop it, and it was only when I felt the edge of hysteria looming that I cut it off, burying myself in the Boss's arm. I took deep breaths, calming myself. I lifted my head slowly. "Sorry."

He smiled gently. "It's fine." His face went back to neutral, and I tensed. "Port.. I'm so very sorry. That whole fight was my fault. Thank you for saving Refill."

I stared at him, mouth agape. And then said the most intelligent thing I could at that moment: "...what?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I should have known Buzz Cut was emotionally compromised. It's obvious looking back. But protocol stated you should be arrested by another female if possible, and I didn't think you'd want Refill to do it. And Buzz asked." He looked at me directly. "So yes. My call, my fault."

I didn't say anything, and after a moment he continued. "And..." he hesitated, then forged ahead. "I wish I'd known you'd been traumatized by a collar before. I know you were trying to tell us," he rushed to add, "but at the time..." he trailed off, then shook his head. "The whole thing was mishandled- no. It was a fucking mess. And it was my job to make it not be." He met my eyes again. "I've taken full responsibility. I promise you, there won't be any charges or repercussions about the fight."

I wasn't sure what to say. First the Boss's assumptions about my freakout, now Sandstorm... both half right, both half wrong. I didn't know how to correct them. Plus, a tiny part of me was pointing out that I was currently under arrest, and talking without my brain fully operational was a good way to get into more trouble.

Since I was apparently in the clear about the fight, I settled for talking about that. "I'm sorry too. About the fight. I don't... I was just so angry with Buzz Cut. I don't know why."

He and the Boss exchanged a look, and I frowned, confused. Then the sound of footsteps registered, and we all looked over as Petty Little Coward and friends cautiously entered the room. It took me a moment to focus that far, but a guy in a suit stepped forward and I guessed I was looking at the prison warden. 

He surveyed us, then spoke. "You are both in violation of regulations. Remove yourself from the cell so we can," and here a brief pause, "resecure the prisoner."

I shuddered slightly. There was something... off... about the warden. I didn't feel any emotions from him at all. Not even disgust or hate. His eyes took me in like I was a thing, not a person.

Sandstorm stepped forward, in between us, and begun quoting something. The warden started talking back, but I tuned them out. This was shaping up to be a fight, but it this battle wasn't worth it. I said, softly, "Put me down." The Boss didn't hear me, his concentration on the argument, and I thumped his arm and said it loudly. It fell into a gap in the conversation, and everyone went silent. "Put. Me. Down."

He looked at me, and I nodded sharply. And then he lowered me to the floor.

I rose up, slowly and carefully. I felt like a newborn colt. I patted his arm. "Watch my back, ok?" He gave me a guarded smile, then turned his attention to the guards. I could almost feel them wilt back, even without my power.

I shuffled forward to the middle of the cell, not lifting my feet, then turned slowly around, surveying it. Tension sang along my spine. I knew they were all watching me, and only the Boss kept me from spinning in place. I could practically feel Mayhem directly behind me. I chanted "The Boss has my back," over and over in my head to help keep it together, but then that started to make me laugh and I had to quit. It wasn't worth risking it when I didn't know if I'd be able to stop.

The bed was in the wrong corner. And it had space under it. I shuffled forward and pulled the bedding off, dragging it carefully into the corner where I could see the full room. I heard someone - I think the warden - start to protest, but his voice cut off and I knew my protectors must have made some motion. I arranged it carefully, then sat down and felt myself relax infinitesimally. Two walls and a floor. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than anything else I was going to get.

The Boss was still staring down the warden. Sandstorm was watching me, concern on his face. I nodded to him, and tried to give a reassuring smile. I'm not sure it worked, but I kept going. "I'll be fine. You can go." He looked unconvinced, so I tried to put some strength in my voice. "Please."

Sandstorm walked out. He was stiff with anger, and he paused and stared at the warden before standing off to the side. The Boss followed him, then spun and planted himself next to the door, his back against the cell. That started another argument, but I tuned it out. I had more important things to worry about. 

I'm safe, I told myself. The Boss is there. I can see everything. There's no one hiding. But I couldn't stop the small trembling that shook my entire body. Couldn't keep from darting my eyes around the room, searching. Needing to know. Needing to feel, but knowing I wouldn't be able to. I ruthlessly suppressed any thoughts of Refill. There would be time for me to feel sorry for myself about that later, when I wasn't about to freak out.

I was just glad that two heros were standing up for me. It gave me a little bit of hope. And... well, damned if I didn't have to piss like a racehorse, but there was no way I was doing that until Petty Little Coward and the Creep were gone.


I leaned back against the walls and waited for them to all go away. Or for me to finally lose it. 



Port and Refill Ch. 08-09



Chapter 8 

I tremble in exhaustion. 

The blindfold teases me with hints of sight. The only sounds are what I can hear through my own body, the plugs blocking everything else. The numbing magic covers almost my entire naked skin. The areas left uncovered, where I can still feel, are predictable - between my legs, my nipples, and of course the cold metal encircling my neck. Only tension tells me about the restraints on my arms and legs. And none of it would matter if I could simply reach out with my power and know what was happening, but that is also denied me, and it is the worst loss of all. 

I've lost all track of time. Her touch, when it comes between my legs, makes me scream and twist from the sheer shock of sensation. Her magic rips the orgasm out of me, making a mockery of pleasure, and I hate the animal I have become. There is no room for humanity, or logic, or decisions. She simply does things to me, and I do my best to survive. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, she removes everything. First comes sound, and my cries fill my ears. Then vision, a world blurred by the tears I have no chance of stopping. And finally sensation returns to my skin all at once, and I scream and thrash again as silk sheets rub like knives against my back, after so long feeling nothing. 

Her gentleness is the counterpart that highlights her exquisitely pleasurable cruelty, and I loathe it. But I don't resist, even as she cradles me like a lover. I look up at her, and all I can do is ask. I cannot fully form the word, only move my lips in a pantomime of speech, but she understands anyway. 

She leans down, and I wish with all my heart I could port away. Her voice is soft, and the lust and arousal in it make me shudder. "Because I can, dear Port. Because I can." And then Mayhem kisses me, her lips branding mine like a hot iron, and all thought flees as I once again become a creature purely of pain and pleasure. 

* * * 

I jerked awake and almost fell out of the chair. Agent Hughes stared at me disapprovingly from across the table, and I realized this time I'd fallen asleep in the "interview" room. But my heart was pounding, I couldn't stop myself from looking wildly around, there wasn't enough air, and I just couldn't bring himself to give a damn. Only the Boss's solid presence at my back - plus most of my remaining willpower - kept me from scuttling to a corner. 

I took deep breaths, and slowly the room settled. Then I gave Hughes the same false smile I'd given every other time, and tried to keep my words from showing my exhaustion. "I'm sorry. Could you repeat the question?" 

He gritted his teeth, glaring at me, then started over. I listened long enough to realize he was asking me - for at least the fifth time - about a museum job in Berlin, and then I tuned him out. Fatigue pulled at me like a living, grasping thing, and I had to reach down and pinch myself to keep my eyelids from closing. Two days, and I doubted I'd managed more than fifteen minutes at a time before I would be awake again, usually with some screams, sobs, or falling over involved. Then it was back to being a delusional paranoid in the corner until the next time I literally couldn't keep myself from nodding off. 

I realized he'd come to a stop, and I put on my false thoughtful face. "Gee, Agent Hughes. I really wish I could help you. But I think I need a lawyer." And back to my insincere smile. I wondered if I was pouring it on too thick, then decided that was another thing I was going to not care about. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then the door slammed open and a female agent strutted in. 

I'm sure she was aiming for a grand entrance. But it was a bit spoiled when I started at the sound of the slam and turned to look. I realized, way too late, that I'd moved too quickly and unbalanced myself, and with my hands cuffed in front of me I had no way to stop what happened next. To his credit Hughes tried to catch me, but he was too far away and had no chance. I cried out as I slammed into the floor, my shoulder wrenching from the impact. 

Hughes swore and started around the table, and I heard the Boss start to get up as well, muttering something angry sounding. But the woman made it to me first, turning me over and starting to help me up. For a second, my heart stopped. 

But... no. The face was just too thin, eyes slightly a different color, hair shaded slightly more toward brunette. Not Refill. My heart restarted, and something else started to replace it. How dare they. How dare they fuck with me like this. I nurtured it, embraced it. Anger was better than this cloying fear, and I let it fill me up. I made it show on my face, and she took a step back, startled. For the first time since I'd arrived in prison, I felt powerful, and I opened my mouth to share my outraged hurt. 

The Boss slapped a hand on my shoulder, and I jumped in place. I would have fallen again, but he steadied me. He leaned down, his voice a deep rumbling river. "Do not let it get to you. You must resist the fuzz." 

It made me laugh, his attempt at slang, and his smile let me know that's what he intended. I felt my anger drain out of me, leaving only the leaden tiredness, and I leaned against him for a moment. I would have been lost without him, and I wondered for the thousandth time how I could be worthy of such loyalty. Or what had happened to his daughter, to drive him to such lengths for someone like me simply because of a chance resemblance. I glanced over at the agents, and for a second I saw the calculation on the woman's face before she replaced it again confusion and sympathy. It had been intentional. And I'd almost fallen for it. 

I pushed off the Boss, wobbling a bit, then moved back over to the chair and thunked down. Then I leaned over and, ignoring the woman, gave Hughes my best apathetic stare. He slowly sat back across from me. 

I spoke slowly, softly. "Last thing I'm saying today. Just get me my lawyer, Hughes. Stop wasting your time." 

Then I sat back and did my best impression of a (slightly neurotic) statue until they finally gave up and let me go back to not sleeping in my cell. 

* * * 

I stared down at my bowl of gruel. 

Conversations with the Boss had revealed quickly that he was under some sort of gag order. Questions about the Professor or the Flying Five (meaning: Refill) were met with a slightly embarrassed silence. I'd stopped bothering. Same with questions about our ordeal - had it leaked yet? That we were... well, I guess I'd call it dating. Did people know how we'd stayed alive? And if yes, how many blowjob jokes were the late night comics making? 

Still, I'd managed to put together a few data points. The Professor had been defeated, although I only knew from the context of an overhead conversation. No real details, but I think he escaped and is still alive. And Sandstorm had apparently called in a favor from Healbot to get me fixed up from Buzz's attack. I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I mean yes, it's obviously good that I was out of the hospital and not covered with burn scars, but by a cosplayer who thinks his powers come from video games? It's just a little weird. 

And in regards to the bowl in front of me, I'd learned that I was apparently mentally disturbed and couldn't be trusted with anything dangerous. Which is why I have literally just a bowl, with no utensils. I was a bit surprised they'd gone that route - wasn't I supposedly faking mental illness? - since it might help me at trial. Assuming I went that direction, I mean. 

In the meantime, it left me slurping my food like a child, which I found slightly aggravating. But that wasn't really my problem with the gruel. It just wasn't what I wanted. 

You'd probably think I want a steak. A burger, fries, salad, maybe a nice pasta dish... and you'd be right. This gruel is tasteless at best. But to my surprise, that's not actually what I was craving. What I really, really wanted to wrap my lips around was Refill's cock and swallow down her cum. 

Not because of the taste. Although that had grown on me a little. Not because of the texture, which even at the end I'd found a little gross. Not because I wanted to be reminded of stretching my jaw for hours at a time. 

I wanted to suck her cock again because it would mean that this would be over. It would mean that she hadn't believed Buzz Cut's accusations, that she still trusted and wanted me. It would mean I could feel her. It would mean this damn power suppressor was off my neck. 

I realized I was crying, quietly, but there's not exactly a lot of noise in my cell. There was no way the Boss couldn't hear me. It took me a few minutes to regain control, and as silence descended I decided to handle the awkwardness like an adult. I pretended it hadn't happened and hoped that no one else would mention it. 

Grimacing, I picked up my bowl and started eating. And decided that, gross or not, the cum would have tasted better too. 

* * * 

Jean-Pierre McLeod (and isn't that a truly amazing name?) was a shark. Not just in the lawyer sense, but literally. 

He was a minor transformative super. Nothing hero league in actual power, but he radiated danger. And he'd managed to turn what lots of people viewed as a disability into an asset. In the cases he took - mostly superhuman discrimination - looking the way he did had actually proved to be beneficial. He could jury select for non-biased or favorable attitudes like you wouldn't believe. Plus, he always managed to win people over with his smooth baritone, incredibly incongruous coming from a mouth with serrated teeth. 

As the two black sheep of our extended family (although I was, admittedly, a lot further into the black than he was) and the only supers, we'd kept in touch. Though I don't think we were actually directly related. He'd helped me out a few times with minor legal matters, and I'd helped him get some dirt on a particularly nasty senior partner who was trying to sink his career. So I'd been almost certain he would show up... but it was still a relief to actually see him sitting across from me. 

He smiled at me, a truly terrifying sight when you don't know him. "Hey, cuz. Long time no see. You look like shit." 

I nodded back. "You're looking handsome as always, Toothy." 

That bit of socialization out of the way, he went straight to business. "I'll be honest, P. I'm not sure why you called me. This isn't my area of expertise, and I don't think helping with the jury is going to be enough. I can try to find someone else at the firm, but I don't think anyone at Hammill, Hammill and Caveman is going to take you. You'd be better off going to Bernstein and Electroshock, I'm sure they'd love to take your case." 

I shook my head slowly. "Not for this." But I hesitated. This was a big step. It was the only plan I had left. But it meant changing everything for the rest of my life. And for what? A gamble, a chance that Refill would eventually forgive me? That I would find acceptance in a community that largely reviled me, that thought I should be collared like an animal? Sure, not all heros were like that. Boss and Sandstorm. A few others. But for every one of those, there were usually several Buzz Cuts. And god forbid there ever be another Mayhem. It would always be an uphill battle. I'd seen what happened to other villains who tried. 

I thought about Refill. Not about her body (well, ok. Maybe a little). I thought about her smile, how her eyes sparkled when she talked about training to be a hero. I thought about her snap judgement that first day, her belief in me. I thought about watching a sunset together, about the simple pleasure of holding her hand. Her amazing kisses. And that trust, that had disarmed every defense I'd had against her. And felt my decision crystalize. Time to roll the dice. 

"I want to apply for Megastorm status." 

He dropped his papers, and I smiled. Surprising the unflappable Jean-Pierre might be a minor victory, but I'd take what I could get. 

* * * 

Megastorm was the first villain to go hero. Well, not the absolute first. But he pioneered the legal process to make it official and tie up all the pesky red tape. He'd been a major bank robber before he'd been caught. Then in prison he found religion, and stated that as a Equalist he was morally bound to help others with his powers. 

It took him almost five years, but he did it. He's still fighting the good fight down near New Orleans. Others had followed in his footsteps, and by now there was a huge case law built around it. I'm no lawyer, but I'd done some reading, and from what I could tell I was actually a model applicant. Practically all my crimes were property and theft, and everything else was minor. Most villains going for Megastorm had much more violent histories. 

The only tricky thing would be meeting the sponsor requirement. But I thought I had the inside track on that too. I just had to hope she'd answer her phone. 

Chapter 9 

My restraints are removed, and for a moment all I see is my tormenter. Then the differences appear. They are minor, but notable. A white outfit, blue lipstick. But the largest difference is the expression on her face. It is etched with horror, a look that I know Mayhem could never feel, only ape. 

Her hand reaches out to me, hesitantly. Her voice trembles. "No. It can't be. She wouldn't..." her voice trails off. She is trembling in shock and disbelief. 

I concentrate. Memory is elusive, filled with things I want to shy away from. But I know something is important. I throw all my effort into it, ignoring the tears running down my cheeks, the silent sobs. Everything is insignificant next to this. Finally, finally, I know what I have to do. 

I lift my head. A small movement, but all I can muster. It catches her eye, and she leans down. I take a shallow breath, all I can manage without coughing, and force it out. One word. I have to hope it will be enough. 

"Trap." 

Her eyes widen, but she straightens just before another figure barrels into her. Light versus darkness, good versus evil. I see them fight, twin goddesses, and I hear the start of hateful words exchanged. But I am fading, exhausted. And for the first time since this ordeal began, I welcome the utter lack of sensation as unconsciousness sweeps me away. 

* * * 

The footsteps of the guard brought me out of my nightmare. And out of balance. Still, I was slowly - very, very slowly - adapting to not having powers, and managed to catch myself with only a minor scrape to show for it. 

Petty Little Coward informed me that my lawyer was here to see me, and I walked (ok, so I still shuffled) forward to get cuffed as the Boss levered himself upright. 

* * * 

I watched, for a second too interested to worry, as Jean-Pierre grimaced. No matter how many times I saw it, I found it fascinating to watch human expressions play across his face. His words, however, brought me back to more immediate concerns. "I'm sorry, P." 

I frowned and looked closer. His body language was defeated, his shoulders slumped. I'd never seen him this way. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. The only thing I could imagine was they'd rejected my application... I just didn't understand how they could have. I licked my lips. "What happened?" 

He sighed. "I think someone is looking to make some political points off your trial. The DA is going after your Megastorm application hard since that will wrap everything up in sealed court documents and prevent a public trial. And so..." he hesitated, then pushed on. "So they got the judge to agree that the Flying Five are all ineligible to sponsor you." He looked miserable. "I argued against it, but they convinced him that they're unduly biased because you saved Refill's life." He shook his head. "We can appeal, but it's not looking good, and without a sponsor-" 

He cut off, astonished, as I started laughing. Full-throated and deep. And it felt good to laugh without feeling like it might edge into the insane range, to just let myself go for a bit. Finally I leveled off, my amusement tempered by the fact that Jean-Pierre was looking at me like maybe I was a little bit mad. I forced my voice more toward normal. "Sorry. You just had me really worried there for a second." 

He was angry now. "Dammit, this is important. A Megastorm app is a brilliant move, but it's a no go without a hero to vouch for you, understand?" 

I nodded, carefully. "I know. But my sponsor isn't one of the Flying Five." I let my mouth grow into a wide grin as I watched him process that, and I heard the Boss shift behind me, the first time he'd shown any interest (Jean-Pierre had not been happy to have someone else in these meetings, but I'd overruled him). 

Jean-Pierre was grinning back at me now. And this was pure, 100% shark. "But that's perfect. They've been focusing all of their efforts on this one angle, if we make an end run around that they'll have nothing." Now curious. "You will be telling me who your sponsor is, right?" 

I hesitated. I'd been putting this off... but I needed Jean-Pierre's help for this anyway. I looked him in the eye. "Yeah. I need you to call her, actually. Just one condition." I leaned forward. "You're going to think I'm crazy. Promise me you'll call anyway, alright? Give it at least one shot. And don't let anyone else know, or they'll use it to try and get me committed." I twisted in my chair. "Same for you, Boss. I know you're not a snitch, but I need this one behind that oath of yours in case you get ordered to report. This leaks out and I'm in trouble." He nodded at me solemnly, fist to heart, and I gave him back a smile. 

I turned back to Jean-Pierre, who was looking at me expectantly. I closed my eyes, then opened them wildly as panic tried to rear. Ok, bad idea. I focused on my memory while keeping an eye out for surprises out of thin air, and finally I had it. I rattled off the phone number, and saw Jean-Pierre raise one eyebrow at the area code (well. He made a motion that was kind of eyebrow-raising-ish like. Humanoid sharks are a bit weird for stuff like that). 

Then I told him who he was calling, and watched with satisfaction as he dropped his pen. And grinned when I heard the Boss swear. 

* * * 

"You're sure she said yes?" 

Jean-Pierre looked at me. He was annoyed, but it was still tinged with that tiniest bit of awe since my name drop the other day. "Yes. It was a long, scintillating conversation. I told her your name, why you wanted her, the time of the hearing, then she said she'd be here and hung up." He likes to get sarcastic when he's unsure of things. 

I sighed and tried to relax. But it was impossible. The courtroom was pure hell - there were just too many people, too much happening that I couldn't see, couldn't predict. Every sound behind me, every time someone picked up a phone in the corner of my eye, every time the door opened and air gusted, I would jump, or twitch, or try to look. And from the way Judge Schwartz was watching me, I wasn't exactly giving him my best first impression ever. We'd tried to get this moved into the judge's private chambers, but that had been denied. Every few seconds I would glance at the clock. 12:59. No show. I flinched as it struck one. 

Judge Schwartz's voice was hard and uncompromising. He was older, with a severe look, and wasn't exactly inspiring my confidence in a fair judgement. "Mr. McLeod, I allowed your client a mystery sponsor because you assured me she would show up and would more than meet the requirements. Since that was apparently a lie," he leaned forward, "I have no choice but to..." 

I felt the despair rise up as he spoke. Damn it all. I'd been so sure she'd make it. I felt the tears start. The judge's voice droned on and on. There was a weird noise in the background too, almost like... wait. Wait. 




Port and Refill Ch. 08-09



"Wait!" I cried, disregarding that I'd just cut off the person ruling on my future. He frowned at me. "Ms. Port, please control yourself. Now, as I was saying-" 

"No! Look, she's here! Listen!" I pointed wildly at the door. 

He started to speak again, then frowned. The sound was louder now, a murmur of voices and odd clicking noises, and I saw others in the room turn toward it. My heart was thumping in my chest, my euphoria temporarily overriding my panic, and I stared expectantly, waiting. I heard him talking to someone behind me. "Go see what that disturbance is. This is highly irregular-" 

We didn't get to hear the rest of his order. The doors slammed open, cutting him off, and she strode in. The murmurs and clicks resolved into the reporters and superazzi that follow her around, shouting questions and taking constant pictures, until they were cut off as the doors shut behind her and she stood before us. 

For a second - just a second - I saw those ruby lips, the resemblance was so strong. But no. She had a happy smile on her face, and a white outfit. The most powerful superhero in the world, and a megacelebrity. The slayer of her sister, Mayhem, in a public battle that even other Heros still talked about in awe. 

Mischief. 

She saw me, and her smile grew and her eyes sparkled. "Julia!" She swept toward me, and I moved too fast to meet her. The ground rushed up - I was getting seriously tired of falling over at this point - the Boss and Jean-Pierre too far away and too slow. But then I stopped, inches from another bruise, and slowly floated back upright. I landed on my feet in front of her, and smiled tiredly up at her concerned face. 

"Thanks for the save, Angela." 

And then, to the consternation of pretty much everyone else in the room, she gave me a hug. 

* * * 

Judge Schwartz drummed his fingers on his desk. We'd moved to his office - Mischief, the Boss, Jean-Pierre, me, and - for some reason - Hughes. I was beginning to suspect he wasn't actually an agent. The judge was having a staring contest with Mischief, and I was impressed. He was holding his own. 

Finally, he spoke. "Ms. Mischief-" 

She cut him off with a smile. "Just Mischief, please." 

He glared, trying to find offense and failing, then relented. "Mischief. I don't deny your credentials as a sponsor. Far from it. But I am unclear as to how exactly you are acquainted with Ms. Port." He held up a hand to stop her protest. "I am well aware that you are not required," he stressed the last word, "to disclose that information. But not doing so is highly irregular. Clarifying that relationship could help smooth things out going forward." 

I wanted to frown at the judge. I also wanted to ask him if "highly irregular" was his favorite phrase, but I restrained himself. I met Mischief's eyes. Did I want this getting out? No. But if it would get me out of the suppressor faster... I took a deep breath, then nodded once. 

She turned to the judge. "Did you see the Mayhem Report?" 

He went stiff. "I wasn't one of the ruling judges, but I was consulted. Why is that relevant?" There was an edge to his tone that made me wonder if this was wise. 

She nodded toward me. "You've seen how she reacts to the collar. Why do you think?" 

I saw when he got it. I've never seen someone go that pale before. The Boss was number two - I heard an oath and a crunch, and was pretty sure something had just been destroyed. Jean-Pierre stared at me, and his face blossoming into a parody of horror, but one I still appreciated. His voice was an anguished whisper. "Gods, P. Why didn't you tell me?" 

Hughes was staring at me with no expression on his face. I wasn't sure if he was surprised and hiding it, or if he'd already known, but I was too busy trying to keep it together to care. Sympathy or horror or disregard, it was too much, overwhelming from all of them at once. I stared at the floor, shaking, and tried to find something to hold onto. Lips flashed across my vision, and I felt myself mouth her name again. 

Mischief moved next to me, but she was too similar and I cried out and jerked away from her. And then the Boss was there, holding me, and I clung to him as he rocked me back and forth. 

I'm not sure how long I was out of it, battling for control. I came back to an argument. Mischief was berating the judge. "Obviously she needs help. Let me get her out of here, into a safe environment." Hughes was standing off to the side, cowed. Obviously I'd missed something there. 

"No." He snapped it, and I wondered at the raw fury in his voice. Why was he mad at Mischief? "Just... hold on." He was digging through his desk, rushing. "No... no... there." 

He pulled out a form of some kind and scanned it once before nodding sharply. "Right." He groped at a pen, missing it twice before setting it on the form. He closed his eyes, visibly calming himself, then wrote out two short sentences and signed it. He looked it over once again, then turned to Mischief. 

"I've revoked the order to have her suppressed. If you can remove it, please do so immediately at the request of this court." For a moment we all stared at him. I felt too shocked to hope. And dimly, I wondered what exactly had been in that report to have affected him so badly. 

Mischief recovered first. She whirled toward us, nodding at the Boss. "Put her down, please." He sat me down gently, and I stumbled, still disbelieving. She gave me her brilliant smile, then with a snap of her fingers her wand appeared. And I felt the magic wash over me as she waved it across my body. 

It begun at my feet, working up, and dimly I wondered why it was starting there to turn off a collar around my neck. But then it reached, and I felt the suppressor turn off. And... how to describe that feeling? 

I don't know. It's happened to me twice, and I still have no words, no analogy. Imagine all your senses but taste are taken away, and then everything is restored at once. That's a pale echo of what it feels like. 

I was dimly aware of talking in the room, but I had no attention to spare. I could feel. I threw my arms out, sobbing in joy, and felt my power expand. One mile, then two. Then, because I could, I pressed it further. Trembling, out close to three, and I held it there for a moment until I felt it start to strain me. Slowly, reluctantly, I let it retract. I knew I was in downtown Sacramento. I could feel the people moving around me, the conversations, everything. I could feel... 

Like a bonfire in my mind, she blazed brightly. So close. It would be wrong to say that I chose to port. I'm sure that's one of the things the judge was telling me not to do. But there was no thought process involved, no conscious decision. I felt her, and then I was there. I trembled. I wanted to sweep her up, to take her away, to return to our island before all of this. And I was terrified, so afraid of what might happen next. 

She looked up at me and I held my breath. I lifted one shaking hand toward her face, and my voice was a whispered prayer. "Refill."



Port and Refill Ch. 10



For a timeless moment we just stared at each other. Then she swept me into her arms, and we were kissing. It was desperate, wanton, needy. But all I felt was a pure joy. She did still want me. I wanted to dance, to shout, to tell the world. We broke apart, faces flushed, and stared each other. I felt my mouth stretch into a smile. Everything was going to be alright. 

"What the hell were you thinking?" Her voice rose near the end. "You almost got yourself killed!" 

I stared, flummoxed. I opened my mouth, closed it. Finally I came up with something intelligent: "I- what?" 

"You almost died! I - Jesus Christ!" She dropped me, then turned in a sharp circle, pacing. I ported down to the ground, absently, but I still felt off balance from her reaction. She came back to me, her hands gripping my arms hard. "You never do that again, understand! Damn you, do you understand me?" I could feel her arms trembling like she wanted to shake me. 

I was starting to get angry. No. I was starting to get furious. How - how dare she react like this. I could have handled rejection, but getting mad at me for saving her? A small part of me tried to pull back, but it was a futile effort. Being collared the past few weeks, the sleep deprivation, the uncertainty, and now this? It was too much. I exploded. 

I ported away from her, contemptuously sweeping her arms aside as she stumbled. "What was I thinking! I was thinking of you!" Her mouth opened, but I overrode her. "No! No, you listen to me. It was my fault! It was all my fault! She was going to kill you, and it was the only way, so I did it, ok?" I turned away, blinking back tears. This was like the island all over again, a trainwreck that I couldn't seem to stop. "I knew I'd lost you! I couldn't let you die too!" 

Her voice was hard. "Dammit, Port-" 

I felt my rage spike. I whirled on her, shouting her down. "No! Enough! I saw your face, Refill! You believed that lying whore, you thought I was playing you, so why do you care? Why do you fucking care-" 

"Because I love you, goddammit! I love - uh. Um." I stared at her as she stammered to a stop. She was slowly turning an interesting shade of red. I felt oddly detached from reality. She started trying to explain. "I - I mean, I know it's too soon, and we haven't really known each other long, but, um. Oh god." 

I love you. 

My rage was gone, drained away like it had never existed. Absently, I ported directly in front of her, and she stopped talking, staring at me like a deer in headlights. I reached up, slowly, gently, and cradled her face. My voice was calm. "Refill." 

She gulped. "Y-yes?" 

So far, Refill had been the one that had pursued me. She'd made the first moves. She'd committed 100% to our relationship. Sure, I'd been an active participant, but only a reactionary one. And that just wasn't fair. It wasn't healthy. She deserved better. 

So I looked up at her, and I let what I was feeling show on my face. I let her see that I cared. I let her see that I wanted her just as much as she wanted me. I let her see that I thought her accidental confession was fucking adorable. I let her see my love. 

I guided her down, forehead to forehead. "Even if it is too soon, I don't care. I love you too." And then I kissed her, for the first time like she'd always kissed me. I poured everything into it - my feelings, my passions, my resolve, what I felt for her, for us. Her arms came around me, and it was a perfect, timeless moment. I wished it could last forever. I wished it could end right now so I could rip her clothes off. 

"Ahem." 

It's funny how some things are universal. For example, despite having never heard that voice before, I somehow knew - with 100% certainty - that it belonged to a mother. Now, it wasn't my mother. Which left one obvious possibility. One incredibly awkward, cringing, never-going-to-live-this-down possibility. 

Hello, Refill's mom. 

* * * 

I wondered if I'd ever be a normal color again. My only consolation was that Refill was an even brighter shade. 

I tried to wrench my thoughts into some sort of order. Meeting the parents. Manners. Shit, I'd never had to do this kind of thing as a villain, and I'd been too busy training to do it as a teenager. I decided to go for the basics. Introductions. I started to lift my hand, at which point I realized I was holding tightly to Refill. I started to let go, realized I didn't want to, started to transfer hands, and realized that everyone was silent and staring at me, and froze. 

She saved me by stepping forward and smiling brightly at me. "Hello, dear. I'm Emily's mother, but call me Abbey. She's told us so much about you, it's wonderful to finally meet you in person." I scanned her quickly. In her mid-forties, a small enough gap from my age that I mentally squirmed a bit. Not really that similar to Refill - er, Emily - but I could see the resemblance. Not in any particular features, but in how she held herself and the expression on her face. 

For a second, I wondered what she'd told them. Hi Mom. Hi Dad. I met this girl and fed her from my balls for weeks to keep us both alive. Then I forced myself back to more normal thoughts. I was grateful for the name drop, and managed a genuine smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, ma'am. Call me Julia, please." There. 

It may seem odd that Emily and I had spent so much time just using our codenames. But there's a ton of etiquette around real names in the super world, especially between villains and heros. Of course, the reality is that secret identities are more of a legal fiction than anything real - there's no hiding from big data, there's just too many points of connection unless you go 100% off grid. Which means anyone with money can figure out who you really are. But culturally it would have been a huge faux pas for us to exchange real names before now, and I think both of us had just been more comfortable leaving things as they were. 

She scolded me for calling her ma'am, but my attention was wandering. Sure, I have 360 degree globe awareness. But being able to feel something isn't the same as paying attention to it, and I was finding, way too late, that I should have looked around earlier. Mostly because of the reporter behind us, rapidly talking into his phone, and looking like he'd just discovered Santa Claus had made a policy change and now delivered to adults. A part of me was mortified that pretty soon the entire world was going to know about our meltdown plus confession. But also... 

I almost didn't recognize her. It had been almost twenty years, after all. But some things never change, and I turned slowly to face the small woman standing nervously in the corner. It was too many shocks, the emotional rollercoaster of the past five minutes leaving me numb. So my voice was artificially calm as I said, "Mom? Is that you?" 

She stepped forward. "Julia." And then she was crying and clutching at me. I stared at Emily, who was looking apologetic. Abbey was looking uncomfortable. And the reporter was trying to get a good angle for his phone... 

Oh, hell no. I did a quick check and verified it was clear. Then a quick port to grab Abbey, and I dumped us all in the judge's office. 

* * * 

"-told you, she wasn't running." 

Mischief was explaining to the judge. I was standing in a corner trying to process everything. Mother had pulled off me, apologizing and crying, and was currently talking to Abbey. Abbey was calmly passing over tissues. And Emily was clutching my hand. I just wanted to run away from it all. Well, taking Emily with me. We could find a private corner and... 

I knew it was a bad idea. But goddamit, it was an appealing one. The final straw overriding my good judgment was that I could feel Emily trying to hide her erection, and the corresponding tingle developing between my legs. My only concern was the judge. But.. well, hmm. I found a piece of paper, discretely palmed it, then concentrated. It had been a while - porting ink around was tricky - but after a couple of false starts I managed to form the message. A second later it was in Mischief's hand, and you had to be watching closely to see her jump. Her fingers flashed, and a few seconds later she nodded to me subtly. I grinned, then closed my eyes and searched out. People, people, way too dusty, couple of guys making out, and... empty room with a couch. Perfect. 

And then we were there. 

Emily jumped off the couch, but didn't resist as I pulled her back down. I sighed and snuggled into her, pulling my legs up. She tentatively put an arm around me. Slowly, I felt her tension drain. Her voice was questioning. "Um, Port?" 

"Julia." I murmured it softly. 

"Sorry. Julia." She said it carefully, tasting my name, and I smiled to hear her say it. "What are you doing?" 

"Getting away." 

She processed that for a bit. "Not that I'm complaining too much, but isn't the judge guy going to freak again?" 

I shrugged. "I passed a message to Mischief. She'll cover for us." 

Her hand tightened on my shoulder. Her voice was a mix of awe and... something else. "Right. And you know Mischief how, exactly?" 

I considered her question. There was something weird about her tone. Then it dawned on me, and for a second I started to get angry. But... no. Maybe we'd talk it about it some other day. But I was tired of fighting. I considered for a second, then scooted up into her lap. Putting my arms around her neck, I looked at her levelly. "Who did I ask to cover for me, and who am I curled up with?" 

She opened her mouth, then paused. Her look turned sheepish. "Damn. You're right. I'm sorry, Julia. I'm just on edge today." 

I rewarded her with a kiss for saying my name again. Then I smiled. "So, Emily? I like it, but I admit I was expecting something different. More... south." 

She looked confused. Then she flushed. "Uh, my name?" I nodded. "Well... actually, Emily is just a nickname." She paused, but I waited patiently. "It's actually... Mary Lynn. But I hated it, and em el, you see...?" She trailed off as I started shaking with silent laughter. 

She waited patiently while I got it out of my system, although she turned a lovely shade of red. There was a lot of that going around today. I hugged her close and kissed her neck when I was done. "I'm sorry. It's just... that's more what I was expecting." Her arms came up around me, and for a few minutes we just held each other. But then what I'd been hoping for started happening, and I felt Emily's erection straining against her dress. She tried to discreetly move so it wasn't pressing against my ass, but failed miserably, and I grinned to myself. 

"Hrm." My voice was contemplative. "Honey, my seat seems to have gotten... lumpy." Experimentally, I wiggled my butt back and forth, rocking against it, and heard her try to choke back a gasp. 

Her voice was a half octave higher than normal. "I, uh, I'm sorry, it's just you're here, and it's been a while, and you feel good - oh god!" 

She cut off as I turned, my back pressing into her chest. Now her straining cock was trapped between my thighs, and I wiggled them back and forth, pulling a guttural moan out of her. I could feel her nipples pressing into me. I leaned my head back and looked up at her. "Emily, dear?" 

She stared down at me. "Y-yes?" 

I squeezed my legs together, and watched with interest as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You know I just got out of prison, right?" 

Her eyes were wide open now. "Yes." She breathed it. "I mean, I - yes. Yes, I know that." 

I pulled my legs apart and felt her spring up between them, then started working my legs in and out, squeezing and releasing. Her eyelids fluttered, and I let the lust I was feeling show in my voice. "Prison was very... depriving. Not a lot of comforts. Do you know what I missed the most?" I used one hand to trail between my legs, careful not to actually touch her, but letting her feel my hand drag at the cloth. 

Her voice was a strangled whisper. "N-no." 

I bit her neck, gently, and her breath went out in a hiss and her cock jumped. I matched my voice to hers. "Swallowing you down." 

And then I ported down, kneeling before her, and slid my hands up her legs. Normally... but no. I was feeling... tactile. She stared down at me, flushed, breathing hard, hands tight at her sides. I pushed her dress up around her waist. Her cock strained at her panties, monstrously huge from this angle, and she gasped as I gently cupped her, sliding my hands over her length. I lifted her panties, and it sprung free, as always looking even bigger in my small hands. 

I leaned forward, keeping eye contact, and slowly, carefully, licked it. Her eyes were wild. She got out "P-Julia!" and then I swallowed her down. 

Sure, I'd done this hundreds of times. But I wanted this to be special. Each time before had been about survival. And we'd been pretending it didn't matter. I'd positioned myself so I didn't have to look at her. We'd closed our eyes kissing. It had been good, it had been sex - even if I'd told myself differently at the time - but we were holding back. Or at least I had been. 

But this was real. I wanted us to be real. And I needed her to know how much I wanted her. So I gave it my all. I worked her, up and down, throating her partway then licking, sucking on her head. I spread her legs, my fingers quickly finding her balls and slit, teasing, making her cry out and throw her head back. I kept eye contact every second I could. 

And I let her see how much I was enjoying this. And I was. Oh fuck, was I enjoying this. I'd been too spoiled when I'd been doing this for eight hours a day. Having her back in my mouth, being with her again, was heaven. I rubbed my thighs together and moaned, letting her feel my arousal. When the first bit of pre-cum came out of her cock, I took just the head of her cock in my mouth and sucked as hard as I could while I locked eyes with her. She stared down at me, panting, lost, a wild powerful sexy goddess. 

I reached up one hand, sliding under her dress, and tweaked a nipple. She was holding onto the cushion below her like her life depended on it, but she raised one up and caught my hand. But there was no force behind it. "J-Julia. We should stop. Someone could..." 

Her voice trailed off as I pulled her hand back down. Slowly, sensuously, I licked her finger, and felt her twitch under me. I sucked it in, licking and biting softly, and watched her eyes roll back in her head. Then I took it out and placed her wet finger on my neck, and let her see me shudder with pleasure and lean into it as the hot wet warmth trailed across me. 

I met her eyes, working her shaft and balls with my hands. "Emily." 

It took her a few tries to get out a response. "Yes?" 

I sucked her head for a second, and felt her cock twitch in a familiar manner. She was close. I let the heat I was feeling fill my voice. "Give it to me, honey." She looked confused, so I squeezed her balls meaningfully. Her eyes widened. "Make it a big one. Fill me up. God, I need it so bad." I felt her twitch again at my words. 

She was right at the edge, throbbing in my hand and impossibly hard at the same time. Her hand came up and cupped my cheek, then moved tentatively up, casually tangled in my hair. I could feel her tremble. I sucked her head into my mouth, feeling her jerk and cry out, then took it out just long enough to say, "Cum for me, Emily." And then I closed my eyes and concentrated on getting as much of her down my throat as I could. 

I heard her convulse as I passed five inches, but I pushed past that. I bottomed out at seven, and then I started working her with my throat, swallowing, using my tongue as much as I could. I could feel her ridges and veins sliding up and down as I squeezed and sucked. My hands came up, one caressing her balls, the other finding her slit and teasing the edge. Then I slid a finger in, unerringly going to the spot I could feel just inside and pressing, rolling it around. 

She cried out my name, and then she came hard. One hand gripping my hair tight, the pain forgotten in the moment, the other covering her mouth to smother her scream. I let her shoot down my throat, massaging her balls, feeling that familiar pattern as her balls filled and drained over and over. 

I held myself there for the first few pulses as she blasted her cum directly into my stomach. But I needed to breath. And... no use lying to myself. I wanted to taste her. So I pulled up, leaving just her head locked behind my lips as she shot again into my mouth. 

It was like that very first one all over again. Everything was perfect. The taste, the texture, I loved it all, even as I concentrated on swallowing as fast as I could and breathing through my nose. It made me think of those days on the island, just the two of us, slowly falling for each other. I felt my thighs trembling, my panties dripping, and for a terrified second thought I was actually going to come from this. But it wasn't quite enough, and I relaxed and went back to swallowing down her massive load. 

Finally, finally, it was over. It might have been a new record for her. I sat draped over her lap, my head right by her crotch. I felt sated and languid. And not done. I carefully kept her softening cock in my mouth, slowly sucking and working it with my tongue and lips. She jumped, sensitive after coming, and I slowed down, making sure to be gentle. 

I hid my wince as she untangled her hand from my hair where it had been casually laying, as she pulled on the still sensitive roots. My knees were killing me, and I was pretty sure I had carpet burn. And I couldn't ever remember being so happy. 

She was lying there, head thrown back, trying to catch her breath. But now she seemed to realize that I wasn't stopping. Her voice was tentative, and she reached down with one hand to caress my cheek. "Julia? What are you doing?" 

I met her eyes. Then I took all of her still soft cock into my mouth and sucked sharply, making her gasp. I took her out of my mouth, and spoke firmly. "Getting you ready again." 

She swallowed hard. "Oh." And then threw her head back as I took her back into my mouth.



Port and Refill Ch. 11



Chapter 11 

"Did you really run away from a judge, Mischief, and our parents for some nookie?" 

I paused for a second, considering. Then nodded once. "Yes." I sucked her head back in, rolling it around with my tongue, and she gulped. 

Her voice had a faint tremble that made me smile. "I'm not complaining, but... why?" 

I thought. And then I stood up, giving her cock one more tug before I let go. I reached down and froze. Instead of my lovely prison togs, I was wearing a nice evening dress, and I'd been so out of it I hadn't noticed yet. And from the feel of it, also some decent lingerie. I remembered Mischief's transformation magic starting at my feet, and sent her a mental thanks. 

I locked eyes with Emily. Then I reached down and slipped out of my panties. She stared at me, eyes taking in my figure, her lips parting. 

I slid back into her lap, this time straddling her. Her hands came up automatically, holding my waist. I could feel her cock start to harden just below me, and carefully kept my smile from showing. And I searched for the right words. 

"Emily." I swallowed. "Back on the island... I was holding back." She opened her mouth, but I pressed a finger to her lips. "Let me finish. I was. I was scared. Some of it was what I told you, about hurting you. Some of it was..." I hesitated, but plowed ahead. "I'm not... beautiful. Like you. I'm older. I don't know what you see in me. But," I rushed, "whatever it is, I'm glad for it." 

We were silent for a moment. I wasn't sure what she was feeling, what she was thinking. I let myself speak, hoping somehow the right thing would come out. "I'm not... no, I'm still afraid. Of a lot of things. But what I'm most afraid of is losing you. So I'm not holding back. I want all of you. And I want you to have all of me." I rocked back against her cock, and she hissed. 

She still wasn't saying anything. I swallowed and kept going, feeling the tears starting to gather. "But I... I don't want you to think this is just physical. There's just so much bullshit today, and you were there, and I wanted you. But you waited for me, and that was wonderful and amazing. So," I finished, "if you don't want to right now, we don't have to-" 

I squeaked as her grip tightened and she rolled us. For a second my combat reflexes reared up, but I fought them down, and then I was staring up at her. I was on my back on the couch, my legs spread. She was huge and hard and pressed right up against me, missionary style, and I made a noise deep in my throat at the feel of her. Unconsciously I moved my hips, rubbing against her, and she closed her eyes and groaned. Then she opened them, leaned down and kissed me hard.  

I surrendered to her, letting her take my mouth with her lips and tongue, and she left me gasping. There was something primal and elemental about this position, her size - not just her cock, but so much physically stronger and heavier than me - that was an incredible turn on. It was ridiculous, of course. I could have gotten away at any time. But I didn't want to. Maybe some other time I would have been a little upset at the possessive, dominant stance she was taking, but this second it just seemed perfect, and I welcomed it. Hell, I'd literally asked for it. 

She broke the kiss and pushed up with her hands. I was disappointed for a moment, but then she ran her hands up my legs, and my eyes widened. She pushed them back, my knees ending up on the sides of my head as I was folded almost in half. She looked down at me, and the raw heat in her eyes made my heart pound and left my mouth dry. 

Her voice was a whisper. "Stay there." I nodded dumbly. She ran her hands down my legs, and my breath came faster as she cupped my ass, her strong fingers digging in and making me tremble. She stared down at me, breathing hard, her eyes wild. She ran her hands up my ass and over my body, then up my chest. I groaned as she cupped my breasts, and then she made a frustrated sound as she tried to push my bra up and off. I concentrated, and then the bra was on the floor. 

Her eyes widened with surprise, but she recovered quickly and a second later she filled her hands with my tits, her palms rough against my nipples. Then she moved her thumbs up, circling and pressing, and I panted and moaned as she teased and worked me toward a frenzy, stimulating but not giving me what I really wanted. 

She stopped and slid her hands down, running them over my body, exploring. Her voice was hoarse. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this. How much I want you." It seemed like her hands were everywhere, caressing, squeezing, and I couldn't help it as I twisted and pressed against her, my own lust inflamed by the raw need in her voice. "You're perfect." 

She paused, and that let me catch my breath. For a moment we stared at each other. She moved her hands again, slower, but avoiding any of the areas I really wanted her to be touching. She looked at me, her heart in her eyes. "It's not just this, Julia. Sex. I do want that, but-" 

I cut her off, reaching up and pulling her down to me. I looked into her eyes, then kissed her softly. "I love you." 

She squeezed me and kissed my throat, and I gasped as her tongue ran over my neck. Her voice was muffled. "I love you too." 

I turned and spoke in her ear. I put everything I was feeling, all my love and lust and wanton sluttiness into it. I was going to need it - I wasn't up to being particularly articulate just then. "Then fuck me, Emily. Fuck me, own me, take me-" 

She inhaled sharply, then moved, cutting me off as my voice trailed off into a moan. We locked eyes as the head of her cock found my opening, just barely pushing into me. Then she started forward, and I bit my lip and closed my eyes. 

Two inches. Three. Four. Five. She was so huge, filling me, stretching me. My voice was a moan. "Oh, god. I was wrong." 

She paused, concerned. "What's... are you ok?" I liked that she stopped, although the fact that she was practically vibrating with impatience to keep going was making it hard for me to concentrate. 

I did my best, working on relaxing. "No, I'm good. Mmmm. It's just, uh. You remember that first blowjob." Her eyes crossed a bit at the non sequitur, but she nodded. "I. Oh wow. I remember thinking you were big, but not gigantic." She looked confused, and I made myself smile. "I was wrong." 

She got it and grinned, but her voice was still serious. "Do I need to stop?" I felt her start to pull back, and I reached up my hands and grabbed her hair. 

"If you start to pull out, I'm going to have to move my legs so I can wrap them around you." She stopped, hesitating, and I pulled her down for another kiss. "Just go slow." I rocked my hips, working her cock, and she made an inarticulate noise. I gave her my best dirty smile. "At first." 

She pulled her hips back, but from the look in her eyes I didn't think I need to worry. Then she moved back forward. Slowly, exquisitely careful, she worked her way into me. Out, in, circling, as I gasped and clutched at her, a half inch at a time, until finally I felt her balls nestle against my ass and I knew I had all of her. 

We lay there, clutching each other. I loved the feeling of connection, of her wrapped around me, her cock fully sheathed, pulsing and warm and hard. I would have been happy to just lie there and enjoy her, but she had other ideas. 

She pulled out, just a few inches, then pushed back in. She closed her eyes as she hilted back into me, and her voice was hoarse. "You feel so fucking good." I ran my hands over her back, then down, caressing the sides of her breasts through her dress, enjoying her shuddering response to my touch. Then she was kissing me fiercely, hands cradling my head, and she started fucking me. 

She was still being careful and slow at first. But I'm not exactly a delicate flower, and at this point I was ready for her. I let her know with my hands and my cries that she should speed up, and with the not-so-sweet nothings I whispered in her ear. She was hesitant, but when I kept encouraging her she sped up, harder and faster, giving me more with each thrust until she was pounding in and out, almost her full length every time. With her size I knew I was going to be sore once my body stopped pumping happy juice into my brain, but in the moment that sounded like a more than fair trade. 

I could feel myself getting close, and prepared myself. It took all of my willpower and concentration, but I held the necessary steps in my mind even as she took me to the edge. I held myself there as long as I could, straining, pleasure pulsating through me in time with her movements. Feeling her work me with her cock, saying my name over and over, knowing she was getting close as well. But finally it was too much, and I had to act or risk orgasm. 

She faltered for a second as I ported us - not actual movement, just a slight positional adjustment, but enough that with this new angle I could hold back. I didn't want to let her think, to realize what I'd done, and I redoubled my encouragements. Her tits were right in my face, and it was the work of a moment to free them and bring a nipple to my mouth, biting down on her heavy globe and drawing a cry from her. I circled her other nipple with my hand, then pinched hard, lifting my mouth just long enough to beg her to cum and fill me up. She strained, then with a wordless shout she pushed all the way into me and was cumming. 

And cumming. And cumming. I started as I realized she was refilling herself, her balls pulsing where they rested against my ass. I opened my mouth to ask her to stop, but by then it was too late and I just closed it and let my head fall back, exhausted. I wanted to squirm - it was an extremely odd sensation, feeling her fill me, flooding my womb. I was glad my implant was still active. 

Finally she stopped, and for a few minutes we just lay there unmoving. As always after sex I felt vaguely unsatisfied, but I pushed it away with the ease of long practice, concentrating on the good parts and ignoring that I had to stop before I peaked. She'd collapsed on me, her comforting weight pressing down, her breath hot against my neck as she panted against it. I felt her cock softening, but she pulled her knees up and nestled up against me, pushing as close as she could, and she was big enough even now to keep the seal. Well, mostly. I could feel some of her cum slowly leaking, running down my butt, and I apologized silently to whoever actually owned this couch. 

My pussy, as expected, was aching. And not in the good way. But my legs were killing me from holding this position, and I made a mental note to start yoga back up ASAP. The island, followed by prison, hadn't been good for keeping in shape. And from the look in her eyes when we'd started this she found my flexibility... inspiring. 

Finally I couldn't take it anymore, and I patted her back. "Emily." She mumbled something against my neck. I kissed her ear. "I need to move my legs, or I'm going to cramp up." She mumbled again, then pushed herself up slowly, making sure to keep herself lodged in me. I lowered my legs with a sigh of relief and wrapped them around her waist with trembling muscles. She lowered herself back down but I redirected her, pulling her in for a kiss, and for a few minutes we made out, languid, exploring each other while still locked together. I stopped when I felt her start to stiffen back up. 

She pushed up on her arms and looked down, studying me. I couldn't read her expression. She spoke softly. "You didn't cum." It was a statement, and I looked away, my face heating. I knew I shouldn't really be embarrassed, but I couldn't help my reaction. She reached down and turned my face toward me, kissing me softly. She raised an eyebrow. "RPU?" 

I nodded silently. Lots of supers never develop Reflexive Power Use. And even if they do... well, most superpowers aren't potentially deadly if used uncontrollably. Unfortunately for me, teleportation isn't one of them. I'd stopped trying for orgasms when one tryst ended with a couple of broken bones. 

She kissed me again, soft and gentle, dispelling my anxiety. We went back to relaxing and holding each other with some mildish petting. But... I knew we didn't have a lot of time. I reached out with my mind, searching. These old government buildings often had a physical clock... there. I grimaced, and she looked at me confused. I patted her butt. "We only have a few minutes, we should get cleaned up and head back." 

She stared down at me, her eyes dark and heated. Slowly, experimentally, she pulled out and pushed back in, and I moaned as I felt her start to harden again. I gulped. "We, we don't have time." She kept silent, repeating the motion, and I couldn't help but writhe as she moved her cock. My voice was higher in pitch. "Emily!" 

She leaned down and spoke, her voice matter of fact, still slowly pumping in and out. "Are you going to stop me?" With each thrust I could feel more of her previous load drain out, her cum coating my ass and making me feel wanton and dirty. 

I took a moment to consider. This was a horrible idea. I was still sore. We were already playing hooky, and now we were going to be late. People could walk in on us. And frankly, we were going to be loud. Or at least I was. 

So was I going to port away from her? I met her eyes. My voice was a fierce whisper. "Never." She paused for a second, then resumed that careful back-and-forth motion. I swallowed, my heart in my throat, and wrapped my arms around her. "Never from you, love." 

She stopped, looking down at me. Her kiss was rough and hard. She broke it and spoke in my ear. "Then," she said as she resumed making love to me, "now that I know what you need, I am going to fuck you again. I'm going to take you right to the edge. And I'm going to hold you there until you can't stand another second." 

I tried to think of a way to respond to that. But her cock was starting to feel really, really good. The soreness in my legs was fading as pleasure spread through my body. And my ability to form coherent thoughts seemed to be faulty. So I settled for, "Ok." 

And then she did. 

* * * 

"Alright, spill." 

I didn't bother cracking an eye, just stretched out further. It had been more than a month since I'd really slept properly, and even if I was back in the cell just having the bedding actually on the bed was a luxury. Not as nice as the fact that I could sense my surroundings again, but still much more comfy. And let's just say that after my recreational activities earlier, be able to lie down and relax was a bit of a relief. 

Mischief tapped her foot impatiently, and I grinned. Although technically not allowed, she'd followed me in and no one here had had the balls to tell her no. As soon as I thought that, I frowned. I made my voice gentle as I sat up, wincing slightly as my thighs twinged. "Angela... remember what you asked me to do? Way back then?" 

Her foot stopped. She sketched a chair out of thin air, some sort of complicated recliner deal, and with a snap of her fingers it solidified and thumped down to the ground. She sank back into it with a sigh before putting her feet up. She sat for a moment, thinking before speaking. "Yes. And I'm watching myself, I promise. This is for a friend, not my own personal benefit." 

I leaned my head back against the wall. I wasn't exactly sure I was up to helping the world's most powerful super keep herself from being corrupted by power... but I knew she was deathly afraid of it after Mayhem's descent into depravity. And I had promised I'd try. 

I made my voice wry. "How exactly is asking about-" I paused as a thought struck me. She gave me a look, and I motioned subtly to the walls and ceiling. 

She waved her hand dismissively. "I disabled the sound and blurred the video. They can see the basics, but they can't hear us or read lips." 

I felt myself relax. "Ok. But really, how is asking about my sex life helping out a friend?" I raised an eyebrow. 

She laughed, then pouted at me. "Hey, I covered for you. I think you owe me at least something." Her grin turned wicked. "I still can't believe you made me do that just so you could go get laid." 

I blushed. I couldn't help it. "It's just... I felt overwhelmed. Getting my powers back, then the fight, then the making up, then her mom and mine and..." I trailed off for a second. "I just needed to get away. As for the rest..." I thought. But what the hell. I let my voice go a bit dreamy. "It was... nice." 

She snorted. "Nice. Right. I think I deserve more than that." But the next look she gave me was more serious. With a tiny hint of wistfulness that I might have been imagining. "It's good to see you happy." 

I shifted uncomfortably. After Mischief rescued me and was helping me recover - personally, since I'd begged her not to let anyone know - there had been a few... call them sparks. Signs of interest. And maybe in an alternate universe where I hadn't spent three days being raped by her twin, that would have led somewhere. Of course, then we probably never would have met in the first place. And besides, I was currently a very taken woman. 

Still... I made myself remember that moment of pure relief when she'd finally rescued me, and my smile was unforced. "Thanks. And thanks for coming today." 

She shook her head, and her voice was quiet. "You don't ever have to thank me. What Mayhem did..." 

I sat forward, earlier angst forgotten. I made my voice firm. "No. None of it was your fault. You rescued me, and you killed her. And I'm grateful for both of those things." 

She looked away. "It's kind of you to say that." 

I frowned. Then ported over next to her. She looked up at me, startled, and I kept my voice soft. "One thing I've learned is that life is about choices, Angela. They define us. You choose to be good. I made choices that... well. They weren't the best. Now I'm choosing to change. But what your sister chose defined her. It doesn't define you." 

She sat forward, staring at the floor. Her voice was anguished. "You don't understand. We are-" she swallowed hard. "We were the same. Always. We knew what the other was thinking, what they we were doing." She lifted her hand, fingers flashing, and she stared as she summoned cards, then fire, then a globe... "We got the same powers. We decided on our names, our costumes together. And then we flipped a coin." She closed her hand, cutting off the images. Her voice was rough. "So... so if I was Mayhem. Then I-" 

I cut her off, putting my hand on hers. "Then you would have rescued me and killed Mischief, and a couple of names would have been different in the history books. You are not the same person as her, Angela. I know that better than anyone. A coin flip could never change that." 

She bowed her head, crying, and I held her hand. I sighed silently. It seemed like my life was mostly drama recently, and I wondered idly if I'd somehow been placed into a reality soap. I thought, then grimaced. But if it would lighten the mood... 

I patted her hand. "You know, once you're done doing that, I'll tell you all the details you were asking about earlier." 

She sniffled, then sat up and grinned weakly, arching an eyebrow at me. "All the details, you say?" 

I mock groaned, then ported back to the bed so I could sit down for this. It was going to be a long afternoon.