Emily bristled, and she pulled her jacket closer to her body. She
leaned against the wooden slats that made up the frontal façade of
the apartment complex. From her front porch vantage point, she
scanned the horizon.
The streets were bare. Only the faintest hints of morning rays
threatened to pierce the trees. She was in the clear.
Emily ground her teeth together. Then, she glanced at her phone.
2 Missed Calls.
Emily rolled her eyes and prepared to redial. Before her finger could
punch in the last digit, Emily heard a single bell chime. Looking
back to the street, a middle-aged woman was riding a recumbent
bicycle. Noticing Emily, she waved. Emily waved back.
“Good morning, Mrs. Chau…” Emily called out half-heartedly.
An avalanche of heavily accented English was the response. “That’s
Ms. Chau now! Didn’t I tell you I dropped that two-timing
cheater down the drain like old eggshells last week? Hey, if you know
any young single men who don’t mind getting with an older woman,
you better send them my way, okay Honey? Anyway, how’s Gabrielle?
Such sweet young girls, the both of you. Hey, did you ever visit that
physical therapist I told you about? Don’t think I don’t see how
sorry you look trying to limp around here! Ankle-biters like you
shouldn’t have to worry about back pain for another forty years or
so! The state of kids today, what with mutants running around,
villains blowing up city blocks. Disgraceful, that’s what it
is!”
Ms. Chau rode as fast as she could speak and was already nearly out
of Emily’s sight. Not wanting to leave her hanging, Emily nervously
called back, “Ah, uh, yeah! I’m with you…”
Ms. Chau shouted out, “Nice chat! We’ll talk later! My nephew is
in town, I’m sure Gabrielle could be a good tutor for him! Maybe we
could come by for dinner! He’s failing 4th grade…”
Ms. Chau disappeared around the bend.
“Good chat…” Emily trailed off.
Emily shifted her eyes left to right and started counting down from
sixty, but once she hit 48, her phone rang again.
The Commissioner blared out the speaker, clearly agitated. “Nice to
know in this era of political division, ‘third time’s the charm’
still has some level of meaning to young folks like you.”
“Do you know how hard it is to keep a low profile out here? And
this isn’t exactly a secure line…” Emily said.
“Imp, you’ve been at this for, what, five years?”
Emily thought for a bit. “Six,” she muttered.
The Commissioner laughed. “Right. Six. I’ve been working in this
city for decades. And you know the most brutal lesson I’ve learned
in that timeframe? It’s that nobody cares about you. Or me.
Nobody will actually knock on your door unless they want something
that you can give them. Nobody will go through the effort unless they
already know who you are. Once you get that through your skull, let
me tell ya. You’ll be able to enjoy yourself a whole lot more.”
Emily groaned, and she leaned on the balcony. “Speaking of enjoying
myself… what is it? Why are you calling me on my day off?”
“Well, why else but to hear your lovely voice, Imp?” The
Commissioner chuckled, then continued when Emily didn’t laugh.
“Consider it a tip. A private firm asked the ACPD to escort an
armored van today that’s passing through on its way to Circuit
City.”
“So, what’s this got to do with me?”
“They’re keeping the cargo under wraps. Nobody’s telling what’s
in the van, how much it’s worth… even the name of the firm is a
mystery. It’s a black box as far as we can all tell.”
Emily was confused. “So why even take the job if you don’t know
who’s paying for it? Aren’t you, like, the police? Don’t
you get to make these decisions?”
The Commissioner was silent. “I do know who’s paying for it. An
old… friend of mine.”
Emily thought on it for a bit. “So, it’s nepotism.”
“Look, if I know her well enough, I know whatever they’re
transporting would be a ripe target for villains looking to score. I
don’t know if it will happen… I would just appreciate it
if you were there in case something did happen.”
“I take it Meteoroid was busy?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss what Meteoroid is currently doing
off-world. But rest assured, if she took a break from it to come back
here, you, and me, and everyone we know would be speaking Galornish
within a week. If we’re lucky.”
“Always nice being the backup…” Emily sighed, then winced in
pain. A migraine just streaked through her forehead.
“Look… Emily. I know it’s tough. But think about what I’ve
done for you. If not for me, the police would be on your–”
“I’ll do it, Jesus Christ…” Emily covered the phone
and looked behind her. Nervous habit. “You don’t need to keep
guilting me.”
“Right. Appreciate it. Oh, and one more thing.”
Emily said nothing, simply waiting for the Chief to finish. The Chief
strode past her passive-aggressive silence with aplomb.
“My offer still stands. I could get you hooked up with a place
downtown. Nice place, warm water, no bugs. I could even make some
calls, get enough space squirreled away to have a sleeping area for
your girl. We’d need to do some security checks, of course…
There’s a weapons ban, for one. No controlled substances, that sort
of thing. Standard. It’s an open invite.”
Emily was silent once again. The Commissioner at first thought she
may have left the phone lying somewhere. She was prepared to hang up
when Emily responded.
“I’ll think about it. What time is the convoy coming through?”
“Noon.”
“Got it.”
Click.
Imperia glared at the phone as a flurry of complex feelings bubbled
and mixed in her stomach. She wanted to throw it out into the street,
but ultimately cooler heads prevailed.
Noon…
Shopping with Gabrielle would have to go on hold.
But that gave her just enough time to let a let off a little steam…
***
Caldera didn’t know how long she had been asleep by the time she
woke up.
She was sprawled out on the table. The stress and exertion of serving
under Imperia had done a number on her stamina, and the repetitive
low whale-like sounds had been an effective sleeping aid. In her
mind-addled state, it was easy to think it was the hum of a computer,
or a piece of heavy machinery elsewhere in the complex. It was only
when Caldera blinked a few times and glanced to her side again that
she was reminded of the true origin.
Shortfuse. She was in an odd, near-bowing position, her pert booty
still raised high in the air, twitching. Said posterior was now
coated and shiny slick with sweat and cum, with her legs only
unfurled just enough to allow the insertion dildo to continue its
gyration work. Her hands were sprawled out, tensing and clenching,
loosening. The knees of her skin-tight rubber suit had been rubbed
raw. The pool of sweat, and tears, and ejaculate within which she now
laid was thin and viscous and goopy. The motor’s whir masked
Shortfuse’s own, desolate moans. Continuously being drained of her
fluids and her electricity, even when the actual phone she had been
charging was long gone. She was far past the threshold for gleaning
whatever meager pleasure she could from the torture device.
At first, Shortfuse’s predicament was a simple oddity, mere window
dressing on Caldera’s own trials she had to endure to survive. Now
though, the moment had passed, and she was still there. To be party
to such misery was an active detriment to Caldera’s acceptance of
her environment. Whether it was advantageous in the long run or not,
Caldera couldn’t just leave her there. And besides, helping her
might be the key to gaining yet another ally, a precious commodity.
Caldera glanced behind her. Penny was asleep, but still jittering in
her dreams. Unlike the previous night, Caldera suspected that simply
blowing on the duplicator would be enough to stir her from her
slumber.
Caldera listened. She listened closely, trying to break through the
droning sound of Shortfuse’s torment. She heard footsteps up above.
Overlapping strides. The walls were just a bit too thick for her to
discern whether she heard a voice or voices. She had no idea what it
was Imperia was doing, but she seemed to be doing something. And
whatever that something was, it’d be good enough for Caldera to
work.
Caldera tiptoed over to Shortfuse’s body. She walked in front of
the electromancer, trying to display herself so that Shortfuse at
least knew she was there before getting to work on removing the
vibrator. Shortfuse’s eyes widened, then they narrowed back to
their slits. Her flushed, gaunt face returned to its default of
painful lewdness.
Caldera was nervous. She felt hot. Seeing Shortfuse in such a
revealing pose of course didn’t turn her on – the opposite, in
fact. She was terrified of doing something wrong, something that
could exacerbate the problem or magnify Shortfuse’s pain. The dildo
was quite a big one, at least 9 inches proportionately from Caldera’s
erstwhile observation. As it pumped and pumped, the suction keeping
it in place inside Shortfuse’s vagina caused it to reveal an extra
spare inch or two with every repetition, but otherwise the item had
been fully inserted inside Shortfuse’s snatch.
Caldera breathed. She focused. The plan was to gently place her hand
on Shortfuse’s hind quarters, hold her in place, then pull it out
with her free hand. Simple. So, Caldera executed step one: she
touched Shortfuse.
“ACH, God, shit!”
A spark of light bridged the gap between Shortfuse’s skin and
Caldera’s finger, flashing in a blinding stun, tossing Caldera a
few feet back. She didn’t lose her balance, but she did lose her
vision for a while, and her ears rang. Caldera waited, feeling the
stress and anxiety associated with losing one of her senses.
Eventually though, the spots in her eyesight once again coalesced
into visible light. Even with much of the excess energy being
siphoned out through the charger, the ambient static that collected
on Shortfuse’s body still packed a hell of a punch.
Caldera rubbed her eyes. Shortfuse was just as incapacitated as she
ever was.
Caldera looked back to the lightly stirring Polymaiden. Perhaps there
was a reason Penny hadn’t gone to help Shortfuse herself.
Caldera’s eyes journeyed across Shortfuse’s body, eventually
landing on the motor component.
It was small for normal proportions, though it looked plenty big
enough to be a generator to the shrunken Caldera. Still though, it
wasn’t a complex design, identical to those sold in RC stores and
electrical shops used to power toy helicopters and hand-held fans.
Caldera had worked with various electronics before, and she knew a
few ways she might be able to disable to motor itself given the right
tools. But without access to those – or, more importantly, her size
-- the simplest method in her toolkit was to simply burn it and hope
for the best.
So, Caldera inched close to the motor, keeping her distance from the
villain it was attached to. The motor too was wobbling, lifting
slight bits off the ground with each thrusting of itself and
Shortfuse’s hips in response.
Caldera mentally prepared herself, placing her hands on the motor.
She cringed, but ultimately it was well insulated enough to give her
nothing but a slight static shock.
Then, Caldera closed her eyes… and breathed. This time, she focused
her energy on every inhale.
She waited, feeling the heat and strength rush through her body and
into her hands, until –
BOOM!
“Ah, ah, ahh!!”
Caldera opened her eyes. The motion had stopped. The aluminum casing
had melted. Smoke was coming out.
“S-sorry!” Caldera said, reaching once again for the inserted sex
toy. In her haste, she brushed against Shortfuse’s behind and was
met with another shock. Stomaching the pain, she managed to hold it
together long enough to brace her hand on Shortfuse’s back and use
the other to rip the dildo out of her inflamed vagina. She
didn’t want to close a circuit with Shortfuse’s body any longer
than she had to.
Shortfuse summoned a wail and cut it off with a teeth clench. She
curled in closer to a ball shape. The smoke from the destroyed motor
had baked her buttocks, painting them red with the heat.
Caldera cleared her throat. “A-are you –”
“S-s-s-s-shut up!” Shortfuse whispered. “Just, be quiet,
be quiet, be quiet…!”
Shortfuse put her hands to her ears, forehead to the ground. She
banged her head on the table. Then banged it again, harder. Then
another time.
She continued to do this. And Caldera watched, concerned. She reached
out a hand tentatively, touching Shortfuse’s arm. To her surprise,
there was no electric shock.
“Get. Your hand. Off me,” Shortfuse growled. “Now.” Her face
was still obscured, glaring down at the table in despair.
Caldera acquiesced. Then she said, “I’m s… I’m sorry. I’m
sorry this happened –”
“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME. DO IT, DO IT NOW!”
Shortfuse bared her fangs, pouncing up and lunging for Caldera, who
only barely managed to sidestep out of the way.
Shortfuse faceplanted, but quickly returned to her feet. Her stance
was uneven, her knees were visibly weak, and her face was still being
streaked with tears. Caldera put her hands up, scared, unsure of why
Shortfuse attacked. Caldera had all but forgotten the reality of who
she now boarded with. Villains, criminals, maniacs of all stripes.
“I bet you think you’re so safe, huh? The both of you…”
Shortfuse’s eyes narrowed. Caldera turned around; Polymaiden was
up, alert. She took a step toward the burgeoning battle, but a spark
out of Shortfuse’s fingers deterred her. A threat.
“Look, Shortfuse…” Caldera held her hands out at length, and
she tried her best to keep the flames they spurted at a minimum.
“We’re on the same team, here… none of us want to be
here!”
“Don’t play dumb, little girl…” Shortfuse held up one slim
finger and pointed at Caldera, who felt the hairs on her neck stand
on end. She didn’t know if it was from the fear or the static
electricity. “I saw you… you think I didn’t notice… but I
did. It didn’t take you a full day to become Imperia’s bitch…”
“What?! No, I’m not! Why would you think that?”
“What are you, dense? I’ve never seen her talk like that
to anyone. Even her!” Shortfuse jerked her chin toward
Polymaiden, who chagrined. “Giving all that focus bullshit
and therapy crap... You need to make a choice, right now.”
Polymaiden took another step.
ZZZZAP-CRACK!!!
Shortfuse blasted the floor with a bolt of lightning. The
table in front of Polymaiden was charred and smoking. “Stay the
fuck away.”
Polymaiden obeyed.
Then Shortfuse returned her attention to a terrified Caldera. “Now…
whose team are you really on?”
The accusation was blindsiding. Caldera stammered. “I… I-I… I
mean, this team! Our team! I’m, I –”
“Say it like you mean it! Or I’ll –”
THWACK!
A swift running kick from behind knocked Shortfuse to the ground.
Polymaiden then grabbed the scrambling villain, grappling her,
keeping her down.
“Wha… but –” Caldera turned around. Polymaiden was there too,
running into the fray. She locked her arms around Shortfuse’s legs,
immobilizing her.
Polymaiden had Shortfuse in a headlock. “Stay down…” she
whispered. “Stay down!” She increased the pressure on Shortfuse’s
neck, even as Shortfuse unleashed a burst of energy through the air,
causing both the clone and the original to hiss between their teeth.
But still they maintained their dominance.
At last, Shortfuse went limp. The sparks at her fingers dissipated.
Polymaiden let go of Shortfuse’s head, catching her breath. She
crawled over, helping herself get out the entanglement of Shortfuse’s
legs. It was a very industrial, utilitarian display, yet Caldera was
somehow intrigued watching the two nude clones run their hands along
one another as they checked each other for damage.
SLAM!
Everybody looked up.
Imperia was back. She was glaring at the table with bloodshot eyes.
She also held her supersuit in a bundle in her arms; the blue-white
latex oversuit and the boots. Her black nylon riding suit had already
been donned and zipped. “What… what’s this all about?” she
asked, not unlike a mother arriving home to a group of squabbling
children.
Steam still wafted off the tiny motor. Polymaiden standing above
Shortfuse’s knocked out body just as she was beginning to regain
consciousness did Poly no favors either.
“Who…” Imperia trotted down the stairs. “Who did… who did
this?”
She walked in front of the table deposited the clothing in the seat
before she pointed to the destroyed motor and charger. “Who broke
this?” Imperia’s emotions flared, and her all-seeing gaze seemed
to bore ever deeper into the ragtag group of disheveled super
villains.
Shortfuse looked at Caldera. Caldera pleaded at Polymaiden.
Polymaiden looked at the other Polymaiden. This Polymaiden seethed at
Shortfuse. Yet not a one of them said a word.
"Was it you?” Imperia bared down ever closer to Shortfuse,
freed from her perpetual orgasm. Even the hot-headed thunder queen
had to put her head down in response to Imperia’s massive face
approaching like a floating boulder. From this distance, Caldera
could tell. Shortfuse was shivering. A far cry from her former
demeanor. Still, she remained quiet.
Imperia scanned the faces of the other three. Caldera felt her body
heat rise. Her breaths were getting shorter and shorter. She was
getting hot. But she caught it in time, tried to breathe. Her hands
flashed; Caldera glanced to Imperia, then squeaked and looked back to
the ground. Her hands were normal again. She hadn’t seen.
Hopefully.
Imperia clicked her tongue. “So, you finally managed to get it up,
huh?” Both clones of Polymaiden glared down in shame.
Imperia shook her head, further frizzing her ornate blonde hair. She
looked back at Caldera.
“You know anything about this? Caldera?”
Caldera leaned back from Imperia’s dominating gaze. She shook her
head rapidly.
Imperia’s face twisted. She clicked her tongue again and shook her
head. Then… a devilish smile crossed her lips.
Her fingers reached down for Polymaiden.
“N-no!” Polymaiden jittered, scooting away. Her clone too took
several steps back. Yet she lunged for her other self when Imperia
grasped her naked torso, lifting her into the air. Polymaiden held
onto her shrieking clone’s leg and foot with all her might, yet
still had her ripped away. Her face was pale, and her screams grew in
power and primal fear as she was lifted forth to face Imperia
directly, being continuously squeezed between Imperia’s thumb and
forefinger.
“Fuck this… it was me!” Shortfuse screamed out, limping up to
her feet. “I broke it. I broke your stupid charger!” She yelled
out, waving her hands, spraying sparks from her fingertips. Caldera
stepped back from her display.
“I did it! I… broke the thing…” Shortfuse struggled to
complete the words. “Put her down!”
Up in Imperia's grasp, Polymaiden was still and silent. She tried to
look out over the rim of Imperia’s grasping hands but couldn’t
get a good look at what was going on underneath. However, she heard
Shortfuse’s admittance all too well.
“A confession!” Imperia said perkily. She scooped up Shortfuse in
her other hand, holding her by the scruff of the neck of her suit.
Caldera watched in shock, stunned silent, unable to truly comprehend
Shortfuse’s words and demeanor before Shortfuse was whisked into
Imperia’s fingertips. The hero examined the humiliated villain,
rotating her in her view. Imperia squinted down at Shortfuse’s red
sore buttcheeks, as well as the glistening sweat and cum that was
still dribbling down her legs and into the latex greaves of her suit.
“So… I hope I don’t have to explain to you why you’re in big
trouble…” Imperia licked her lips as she looked at Shortfuse.
“But I’m more just impressed… I never would’ve thought you’d
be able to break out of it. I just keep underestimating you, huh,
Shorty?”
“I told you… don’t fucking call me tha… what?!”
Shortfuse looked around herself. Caldera had to squint to see,
noticing a sudden shift in the light that made Shortfuse difficult to
discern. Until she realized… it was no shift. She was getting
smaller. The world around Shortfuse was shifting and morphing,
becoming more and more convex, less and less fathomable. “N-no!”
she yelled out, a tinny, rice-sized belt of mercy. Caldera couldn’t
hear more than its ghostly echo. “What are you doing?! Stop! Get
your hands off me! Please, please stop?! HELP,
HE…”
It didn’t take long for her voice to fade into unrecognizability.
Shortfuse became a germ in the palm of Imperia’s hand.
“And you…” her gaze whipped back to the Polymaiden clone
in her fingertips. Both versions of the diminished supervillainess
felt their seed of anxiety blossom into a mindless terror, stunned
into a dreadful silence. Imperia let out a puff of air and continued.
“So, it seems little Miss Duplicate couldn’t clone herself for
me. But you were more than capable, more than willing to
sprout a double to get your buddy off… the hook.”
Polymaiden shook her head. Tears were flowing down her face, both in
Imperia’s grasp, and on the ground where the free version fell to
her knees. Up above, she was pleading out. Her voice cracked. “I-I
couldn’t… I swear! I had… you’d… I had to… please, I can
make it up to you. I’ll, I’ll rub your feet, again, over and
over! Grow me back, I’ll wait on you hand and foot! I’ll do
anything for you! I love you, Imperia! I’ll love you and
I’ll –”
Imperia tossed Polymaiden into her mouth.
Instantly, on the table, Polymaiden shuddered, and began gibbering
incomprehensibly. Caldera rushed to her, rubbing her back, but was
battered away as Polymaiden began to convulse, taking deep, rapid
breaths that only grew faster. And yet, she was in utter heaven
compared to the experience of her shared hive-sensation clone within
Imperia’s mouth. Battered by a phenomenal tongue, gummed on by
massive, stone-edged teeth, shlicked and sucked on in a torrent of
slimy saliva that saturated Polymaiden’s every pore and orifice,
she could barely even scream. Any noises she did make failed to
breach the puffed-up cheeks of Imperia’s jowls.
All Imperia managed was a giggle, then a gulp.
And Polymaiden was sent down a fleshy, peristaltic tunnel into her
acrid tomb.
On the table, Polymaiden collapsed into a heap.
“Polymaiden, Polymaiden?!” Caldera tried to move her but
was taken aback by her wide-open eyes. She was dry-hiccupping with
each moment, taking in hoarse breaths. Her mouth shuttered open and
closed, and she was visibly crying, letting out pitiful coughs as the
air in her lungs depleted. When Caldera touched her, Polymaiden would
flail and twitch and vibrate painfully.
Caldera looked up to Imperia, mouth agape.
Imperia glanced down at Caldera. And she let out a cute burp in
response. She smiled.
Then she closed her other fist. And she trotted up the stairs.
Caldera slumped to the ground. Though Polymaiden lay next to her,
Caldera knew in her heart that for the first time in what felt like
both a lifetime and a single moment, she was alone again.
And when the prone form of Polymaiden started to scream out a pained,
horrid scream, that’s when Caldera knew the digestion had begun.
***
Emily held her fist tight and broke back into the kitchen area,
leaning against the door. Her temper was still high… but falling.
The charger was a pain in the ass to put together, but it wouldn’t
be difficult to make another one. As she accepted this, Emily was
able to turn her attention to the fragrant scent of what was cooking.
A hashbrown-and-pepper dish was sizzling in the frying pan, along
with some eggs. As usual, Gabrielle wasn’t in sight, but her
presence could be felt everywhere. Crosses hung up in corners and on
end-tables, a picture of the Virgin of Guadalupe in the living area,
and her very footsteps could be felt around corners and further into
the bedrooms. Clearly, she had wanted to multi-task by preparing
breakfast at the same time as she got into her outfit.
Emily grabbed the pan and tossed the food for a few seconds, or at
least until her eyes began to water. Content that this was enough to
keep it from getting burnt, she scoured the floor, until she found a
single brown flat with well-worn rubber soles, just barely peeking
out from underneath the couch. It had clearly seen better days.
Emily reached down and grabbed the shoe. She pressed it into her
face, sniffing the hard-worn insole, depressed by the heel and ball
of Gabrielle’s foot in addition to five perfectly proportioned toes
there at the end. These shoes had yet to fail the budding woman, as
evidenced by its continued place in her repertoire of apparel.
Imperia smiled as she felt Gabrielle’s scent fill her. From anyone
else, she might’ve gagged. She could absorb everything within
Gabrielle all day. For the rest of her life.
More footsteps.
Emily darted her eyes left to right, then unclenched her fist.
If she looked down hard enough, there in the center of her palm,
there was an off-white speck planted right on her heartline. It
must’ve been like a canyon to her. Emily had no idea what she was
saying, or if she was saying anything at all. She might as well have
just been so awe-inspired by the absolute scale of the landscape of
Emily’s hand, or the visage of Emily’s face, a god-like satellite
that glared down with demented amusement, that she was simply stumped
into silence. Unworthy of communing with this higher being. One way
or another, Emily had finally gotten Shortfuse to shut up.
Emily heard Gabrielle cursing in Spanish, and she emptied out the
barren hand over the opening of the mouth of the shoe. Emily stood up
just in time to see Gabrielle come out of her room. She was dressed
in a knee-length sundress, her hair collected in a scrunchee’d
ponytail. Her makeup was sparse, and her adornments nonexistent with
the dual exceptions of a cross chain above her sternum and a lanyard
next to it, displaying her identification card as a substitute
teacher at Aster City Preparatory College. She had on a single shoe,
the matching piece to the pair.
“Hey, Emily, have you seen my…” she lit up as Emily handed her
the shoe. “Oh, thank you! Ay, gracias a Dios…” She slipped it
on, her wide, bare foot easily slipping into the stretched-out shoe,
all five toes travelling obediently to their ripe, designated
stations. She stretched and flexed the digits, curling them up and
relaxing again as she hopped a little to ensure her stride was even.
Then, Gabrielle exclaimed, “Oh, right!” She trotted to the
kitchen and gave the spicy mixture another flip. “Thank goodness
they didn’t burn…”
“Heading in?” Emily asked.
“I might as well, right?” Gabrielle sighed. “The music teacher
is out for a funeral. I think her husband died in that bombing.
Someone else would’ve been coming in from Circuit but I’m closer,
and… we need the money.”
“Ah.” Emily watched Gabrielle stir the fry, and she awkwardly
tapped her own foot on the floor. “Hey, in that case… Since our
plans for going on a date today fell through… maybe I could drive
you to the school? So, we can spend at least a bit of time together…”
“Oh, sweetie…” Emily watched as Gabrielle poured a helping of
the eggs and hashbrowns into a plastic Tupperware dish. She walked up
to Emily and touched her cheek, standing on her tippytoes to wrap her
arms around Imperia’s neck. “Don’t worry about me. You just
worry about saving the world, okay? Besides, you drive like a crazy
person.”
She planted a kiss on Emily’s lips, one that took Emily a
split-second too long to realize she had to reciprocate.
Gabrielle opened the freezer and grabbed a bottle of water,
rock-solid from spending the previous night inside the capsule. She
trotted to the door, then stopped on the mat. Gabrielle reached down
to her shoes. She hooked a pair of fingers into the heel and pulled
it on properly. “Thought I felt something kind of tingly in there…
but it’s gone now. Hasta luego, Emilita! And help yourself to some
breakfast!”
She slipped out of the door, kicking it closed behind her. From the
other side of the solid wood, she could hear Gabrielle cheer out,
muffled, “Hóla, Señora Chau! Congratulations on the divorce!”
Imperia stood a moment, glaring at the door.
Then she turned back to the hashbrowns and eggs. The green and red
bits of chopped pepper perfectly accented the yellow and brown of
eggs and potatoes. The stove had been turned off for a good few
moments now, so Imperia simply grabbed the wooden spoon and scooped
up a healthy portion onto it. Opening her mouth wide, she gulped it
down, chewing the food into a mush before swallowing it delectably.
It was spicy, yet oh so satisfying…
She could only imagine what it must’ve felt like to the shrunken
Polymaiden inside her stomach.
To be whimpering in static terror, the acids of her stomach eating
away at her hair, her nails… her flesh, her bones… only to look
up in sheer terror and be buried in globs of spit-laden food.
She wondered if any of the disgusting shlop would wind up in
Polymaiden’s mouth, inescapable. Or even she would eat it herself…
to get even the slightest reminder of what it felt to taste something
real. Something that had been cooked with love. Imperia pondered
whether her stomach’s contents would spill out as Polymaiden’s
chassis was continuously disintegrated into the valuable nutrients
Imperia needed for crime-fighting.
It was a flurry of imagination, each one more and more lewd and
domineering, thinking about what was going on right inside of
her. She even allowed Shortfuse to get in on the daydream, wondering
about the hot, sweaty, muggy atmosphere within Gabrielle’s shoe
that she would be forced to either survive against or be crushed
beneath.
“Ah…” Imperia hadn’t even felt it. Her hand had gone to the
lip of her pants, a single zipper all that it took to unblock the
coming torrent of pleasure that threatened to tear her apart.
Fuck it… fuck it all… Gabrielle’s gone, I’ve got work
later, the stupid bitch broke my toy… I deserve this… I deserve
this…
All she needed now was…
And then Imperia turned around, straightening her back. Her mouth was
watering as she stepped back into her underground base.