KathrynLocksley
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One Hour of Vulnerability
🕑 Added 2023-05-18 20:13:56 +0000 UTC“Miss Vulnerability! it’s so good to see you,” said Index, the bespectacled, green-skinned host behind the front desk of the Moaning Mask Club.
“You can call me Billie,” Billie reminded him.
“Billie, of course. Will you be participating tonight?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Usual offerings and preferences?” Index asked, hovering his pen over an open page of the guestbook.
“I’m in a punishing mood,” Billie confessed, removing her coat from over her simple black jeans, studded belt, and slouchy t-shirt with the large V over the chest. “Hook me up with someone who wants to find out what pain is.”
“Certainly,” said the host, finishing his note with the smile of a deeply focused puzzle player making a crucial connection. “A woman all right with you?”
“Fine,” Billie confirmed, cracking her knuckles and neck in turn. “As long as she has an ass and knows how to squirm.”
“I can promise you the ass,” said Index, with a half-smile, which Billie returned.
“I’m sure I can take it from there,” she said.
Index nodded and extended an arm for her coat. “I’ll arrange it. Head over to playroom seven whenever you’re ready.”
Billie strolled past the desk and into the plush, dimly lit lounge of the club, past people in masks, spandex, lingerie, and armor.
At one table, a woman showed off a pair of rapidly vibrating fingers to her companion, who had real, living cat ears growing out of her hair.
At the booth across the way, a man in a tight, thin, red environment suit shrank himself down to the size of a hotdog and danced suggestively on air, while a woman suspended him in front of her with telekinetic power.
The Moaning Mask Club was a place where anyone who lived the cape-and-tights lifestyle — heroes, villains who could manage to behave themselves for the course of a visit, and everyone in between — could go to trade favors with others like them.
There were plenty of forums for such exchanges when it came to criminal or crime-fighting behavior. This was not one of them. The club was strictly for downtime sorts of requests.
People with super strength came to find partners who wouldn’t break. Energy drainers came to cuddle with living nuclear reactors. Lonely heroes came to let off steam with someone who wouldn’t take it personally if they suddenly had to run off to save the world.
Billie squeezed a little too close to the booth where the man in the red suit was dancing on air, causing him to spring back to full size and plummet onto the table. She waved a quick apology to him and his date. They waved back.
Out in the world, Billie’s power had very few uses other than thwarting villains. It also excluded her from any team-ups that might make that work more fun and less lonely.
At the Moaning Mask, however, hers was one of the most desired gifts.
The three-foot radius surrounding Billie — Miss Vulnerability — negated the effects of all other powers, completely. Her power was rare, and she was the only one of her kind to frequent the club, so for some people, that three-foot radius held sensations that could not be obtained anywhere else.
It was a busy night, with a line for the bar, so Billie proceeded directly down the hall of playrooms to number seven. She had just enough time to check the room’s supplies and make herself comfortable on the bed before the door received a sharp tap.
#
“Enter if you dare,” Billie called out with put-on aloofness, propping her head up on one arm.
She’d had a hunch, more of a fantasy, really, about who would be on the other side of that door tonight.
Her face probably revealed more excitement than she meant it to when Princess Aurelia of the Sylvan Kingdom — or just Sylvan, in her superhero capacity — stepped inside.
The elfin princess looked as enchanting as ever, towering almost to the top of the doorframe in her nine-inch heels. Her minidress of green velvet showed off her long, slender, inhumanly strong limbs.
If Billie’s power had allowed her to enjoy the powers of others, she would have submitted her soul to Sylvan’s legendary psychic ravishment years ago. But having the princess here, ready to submit that ethereally beautiful body to Billie’s rough care… that might be even better.
“Your highness,” Billie greeted her, sitting up on her elbows. “What can I do for you?”
Sylvan closed the door behind her with the extreme care she needed to avoid splintering it to pieces. “The same thing you’ve done for others, I imagine.”
“What I do with other people is between me and them,” said Billie. “So you’ll have to be more specific.”
The two women stared at each other for a moment. Sylvan, usually so elegant and ageless, wore an expression that made her look like a nervous college applicant. Billie, a thirty-five-year-old self-confessed burnout, lounged in the same clothes she would have worn as a teenager if she’d had the freedom to choose her wardrobe then.
“It has come to my attention,” said Sylvan, “That there are aspects of experience that most consider universal, to which I am not privy.”
“I see,” said Billie. “And are you looking forward to finding out what makes Humans tremble and cry and gasp and shiver? Or dreading it?”
Sylvan tossed her head, sending a wave of shiny auburn hair behind her back, and scoffed as if the question were beneath her. But then the toss became a shrug, and the scoff became a word.
“Both.”
Billie let her own excitement manifest in a mischievous grin. “Good. That’s a good place to start. Strip down. Grab the leash from that rack over there, put it on, and come place the end in my hand.”
Sylvan lifted her dress over her head and hung it on one of the empty hooks on the wall.
She was even more impossibly stunning underneath, willowy and smoothly curved, without a single blemish or scar. Her unrestrained breasts formed two perfect domes exactly the size of Billie’s hands.
Her only underwear was a simple thong, just enough fabric to protect and outline her pussy, nothing more.
“You can leave that for now,” Billie said, when Sylvan reached for the thong. “I like it. And the shoes. But remove the tiara.”
Sylvan removed the tasteful band of silver and moonstones from behind her sharp, tapered ears, and hung it with her dress. She proceeded to the rack with the leashes, opened a leather collar, and took an extra moment to look at it in her hands. “Is this necessary? It seems… undignified.”
“That’s the idea, isn’t it?” Billie chuckled. “A little humbling? To bring you down to Earth with all the mere mortals you want to protect? Plus, it’s the easiest way for me to make sure you don’t get too far away from me. We wouldn’t want all that power to come flooding back at the wrong moment, would we?”
Sylvan observed her with the calmly evaluating stare that had probably served her well at many a diplomatic meeting.
“Do you mean to hold me in your radius against my will?” she asked.
“Never,” said Billie, sitting all the way up to meet her eyes more directly. “I take my responsibilities as seriously as anyone else in this club.”
Sylvan eyed Billie’s rumpled shirt, unconvinced.
“But I am going to make you ask when you want to be let go,” said Billie, “just like anyone who signs up to play sub around here, without the strength of ancient magic to protect them. Consider it part of the mere mortal experience. You know the word we use, don’t you?”
“Mercy,” Sylvan practiced it distastefully, clearly accustomed to hearing it rather than speaking it.
“Easy as that, you’re free,” said Billie.
Sylvan brought the collar to her long, graceful neck, and buckled it tight.
Billie held out her hand.
Sylvan walked resolutely forward. The moment when she crossed into Billie’s sphere of influence was as obvious as if the edges were marked on the floor. Her regal gait faltered, and she looked down in horror as her suddenly vulnerable toes were crushed against the narrow straps at the front of her high heeled shoes.
A good portion of Billie wanted to laugh, and ask if the princess’s delicate feet required a nice soak before they began. But with Sylvan already so uncomfortable about lowering herself, mocking her too fast and hard might scare her away. They had the room for a full hour before they had to relinquish it to anyone waiting in line. Plenty of time to ease the proud princess into tantalizing depths of indignity.
Billie kept her hand steady, accepting Sylvan’s leash, and her trust, with all due solemnity.
“Join me,” she said, reeling in the slack to bring Sylvan onto the bed with her.
Sylvan followed easily enough, looking mostly glad to be off her feet.
“You’ve never felt any kind of pain before?” Billie asked.
Sylvan shook her head.
“We’ll start really small, then,” said Billie. “Give me your hand.”
Sylvan flexed her hand on its way to Billie, to disguise any possible shaking. Billie took it gently in hers, took hold of a tiny bit of skin on the back, and pinched.
Sylvan took in a short, sharp breath, but then let it out in relief and smiled. “That’s pain?”
“An itty bitty microdose,” Billie noted. “But yeah. You ready for more?”
“Continue,” said Sylvan, holding her head as high as if she had already forgotten the collar around her neck.
The temptation to yank on the leash was almost too much, but again, Billie paced herself. She ran her fingers up from Sylvan’s hand to her upper arm and caught hold of another delicate bit of skin.
“Different areas of the body respond with different levels of pain to the same stimuli,” she explained, and pinched again.
Sylvan yelped, and then nodded with bright, wild, wide-awake eyes. Her bare nipples had hardened from subtle points to eager little daggers on the ends of her soft, round breasts.
No sight could have made Billie happier. She was usually pretty good at guessing where there was a juicy masochistic streak to be found, but it was impossible to know for absolute certain without experimentation. This would have been no fun at all if Sylvan had faced it with pure endurance and no excitement.
Billie trailed her fingers higher up Sylvan’s arm and across her collar bone. She stopped just short of one of those temptingly pinchable nipples and pulled her hand away, noting and celebrating the disappointment on Sylvan’s face.
“Bend over my lap,” said Billie, shifting the leash to her left hand and pulling, to guide Sylvan into position.
Sylvan kept her weight poised on her elbows and her head turned to observe, as she stretched herself across Billie’s crossed legs, with her ass in convenient reach of her right hand.
Billie explored the rest of Sylvan’s naked back first, finding every inch of it silky and yielding to the touch.
Elves didn’t need their muscles to be large in order to hold unimaginable power, of course, but even so, Sylvan’s skeleton must have been unusually narrow by Human standards, for her to look so lanky and feel so soft at the same time.
Finally, Billie worked her way past the unobtrusive elastic of Sylvan’s G-string to the graceful curve of her ass. It was even softer and smoother than the rest of her.
“I’m going to spank you,” Billie warned. “Gently, at first.”
“That’s one of the safest ways to inflict pain, correct?” Sylvan asked, fresh nervousness crushed down into the very foundation of her voice.
“Very safe,” Billie confirmed, still caressing her target area. “Are you ready?”
Sylvan nodded resolutely.
Holding the leash tight, so that Sylvan couldn’t lift her face more than a few inches from the bed, Billie raised her hand and brought it down with a slap.
It was more noise than force. Sylvan’s ass took the impact with such a pleasant springiness that Billie could hardly resist giving it another one right away.
“How’re you doing, princess?” she asked.
“Curious as to what the fuss is about,” Sylvan answered, nervousness replaced by calculated, taunting superiority.
“Oh, you have no idea how jazzed I am to hear you say that,” Billie warned her, and brought her hand down again, harder this time, even more ready than before to enjoy that springy jiggle.
Sylvan feigned boredom for a while, as Billie slowly ramped up the force of her strikes, switching back and forth every so often between cheeks. Once pink patches began to bloom on Sylvan’s skin, however, the first marks its silky, even surface had ever held, she began to stir more restlessly.
She dug her hips deeper into Billie’s jeans, letting out occasional high gasps when her hand made contact.
It was clear her reaction was only half pain, at most.
Billie could have gone on like this for hours. The cushy feel of Sylvan’s ass was so pleasant that her hand barely stung at all, even when she really put some muscle into it.
She waited until the gasps were coming with nearly every blow before taking a pause.
“Plenty of fussing going on now,” Billie observed. “Does her highness need a break?”
“Perhaps just a moment,” Sylvan answered in another set of breathy gasps.
Billie loosened the slack on the leash, letting Sylvan sit up on her knees.
The princess ran her hands over her own face and neck with a delighted sigh.
“Gets the blood flowing, doesn’t it?” Billie asked her.
“It’s extraordinary,” Princess Sylvan answered, running her hands farther down her body, chasing glowing tingles. She tapped at her nipples along the way and then reached eagerly for her pussy.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Billie asked, catching Sylvan’s wrists and pinning them behind her back.
“I…” Sylvan faltered with needy confusion. “I did not intend to be inappropriate. If the interaction you agreed to was purely instructional, I apologize. Given the venue, I assumed certain sexual overtones—”
“Sexual, sure,” said Billie, kissing Sylvan’s neck in demonstration. “Just not on your schedule.” She gave the skin she had just kissed a playful bite. “You didn’t come here just for pain, did you?”
“Obviously not,” said Sylvan, inching forward on her knees to rub herself subtly against Billie’s thigh.
“No, not just for pleasure either,” Billie teased, leaning forward and pulling Sylvan’s wrists farther back. “You came to feel vulnerable. Powerless. You can stop now, with nothing but a fun little sting on your royal ass that sent your pain-virgin nerves all aquiver. You can pretend that counts. Or you can go deeper. You can stay here and learn how to beg for things you’re used to taking for granted. You can struggle and plead while I drag your soft, royal fingers away from what you want and hold them there. And you can try to imagine what it would be like to have no way out.”
“I understand,” said Sylvan. “In that case, may I make the most of this exquisite sensation now, please?”
She tugged her trapped hands down and forward, in the direction of her satin-covered pussy.
Billie smirked at her attempt to ace her lesson in powerlessness with her dignity intact — entirely missing the point of said lesson.
“No,” Billie answered, savoring the hint of real surprise on the princess’s face. “Keep your hands where I can see them, and don’t you touch these panties.” She let go of one of Sylvan’s wrists and reached down to snap the elastic of her G-string against her hip. “Not to rub them, not to move them, not to sneak underneath. Got that?”
Sylvan nodded, face warming with her first real blush. Billie watched the confusion, embarrassment, and secret thrill pass through her as the opportunity for a regal, authoritative final word slipped away unused.
“It’s for your own good, princess, I promise,” said Billie, only lightly teasing. “If I let you cum, it’ll kill your pain tolerance. It’s the kind of thing only people who’ve lived with pain would know.”
“I defer to your superior knowledge on this matter,” Sylvan said softly.
“Good,” said Billie.
“Does that mean you will hurt me more now?” Sylvan asked eagerly, with barely a scrap of apprehension left.
“Oh, I’ll hurt you plenty,” Billie promised.
“How?”
With the end of the leash around her wrist, Billie finally allowed herself to cup Sylvan’s breasts in her hands. They were as silky and springy as her ass, and fit in Billie’s palms just like she’d expected, as if they belonged there.
“Are these beauties still craving attention too?” Billie asked, though she could tell the answer by their stiffness.
Sylvan nodded.
“Would you like me to hurt them and make them feel good at the same time, in the same place?”
“That’s possible?” Sylvan asked. “Yes. Please.”
Billie rolled both nipples between her fingers. The roll soon became a pinch, which she tightened, slowly, moment by moment.
Sylvan gasped first with harmless surprise, and then escalated to a moan as the feeling built.
Billie let up briefly, then pressed down again, brutally hard. The excitement did not leave Sylvan’s voice.
“May I?” Sylvan asked again, pointing down to her soaking G-string.
Billie leaned down to breathe in the scent of it.
“No,” she whispered against the fabric.
Sylvan made a whining sound.
“Look at you,” said Billie, straightening back up to Sylvan’s level. “Slumming it among us fragile mortals and having such a good time doing it.”
Sylvan’s eyes widened, showing more discomfort than they had during any of what Billie had done to her body so far.
“Make it worse!” the princess commanded. “Hurt me until I stop enjoying it, and then thrice as much beyond.”
Billie let go of Sylvan’s breasts and raised an eyebrow, reassessing.
“Are you capable of that?” Sylvan asked.
Billie certainly could have pushed things much further than she had so far. She hadn’t even started to play with any of the whips or paddles the playroom was equipped with.
“Sure,” she answered, watching Sylvan’s lower lip tremble slightly. “I can make you cry like a baby, if that’s what you want. But if you stop enjoying yourself completely, I’m going to need to know why we’re still doing it.”
“Because I came here to understand the vulnerable!” Sylvan declared. “Not to patronize them!”
“Oh. Fuck. You’re serious,” said Billie.
“Of course I’m serious!” said Sylvan. “Isn’t that what you give people? Understanding? Sensitivity?”
“Not usually, no,” Billie admitted.
Sylvan’s mouth opened with a scoff of outrage.
“This,” Billie spread her hands to indicate the playroom, the Moaning Mask club. “This is a game. For fun. Like, you know how Professor Proton doesn’t actually teach people a whole lot about physics before hitting them with a ruler? Or how none of the vampires actually kill or turn the people they play with here? Overpowered people come to me to dip their toes in pain, like a billionaire paying eighty dollars for a ‘divey’ chicken sandwich to feel like a real person.”
Sylvan rubbed her forehead, as if she suddenly felt faint, slowly shaking her head back and forth.
“I mean, kudos for wanting to take a deeper look at yourself than that,” Billie hurried to add. “But nothing that could happen here between you and me was ever really going to teach you what vulnerability means. You know I respect the safeword, so you know you’re physically safe. And we’re not…” she sighed. “We’re not friends, so you’re socially safe too. Worst case scenario, you don’t get to come back to me for another spanking.”
“That’s no small loss,” Sylvan argued halfheartedly.
Billie smiled, but didn’t let the flattery distract her.
She sat back down, cross-legged, and encouraged Sylvan to do the same across from her, with a gesture instead of the leash.
“When you said it had ‘come to your attention’ that you were missing a fundamental experience… someone called you out, didn’t they?” Billie asked.
Sylvan nodded miserably.
“Someone you care about called you a heartless bitch, or something like that, for how you treated someone who was hurting for real.”
She nodded again.
“Someone on your team?” Billie guessed.
Another nod.
“And is your team all here tonight?”
Sylvan looked up and froze with a horror that answered Billie’s question without a word.
“Ah.”
“Please,” said Sylvan. “I can’t face them. Not with this.”
“There’s no vulnerability like vulnerability in front of someone you love,” Billie noted casually. “That would be real.”
Sylvan wrung her hands, but could not bring herself to claim that she did not, in fact, want it to be real.
Billie wrapped the leash around the bedpost behind Sylvan and tied it off.
“Sit here,” she directed. “Hands on your knees, head down, and pretend you couldn’t break this if you tried while I’m gone.”
Sylvan obeyed, hands openly shaking on her legs now.
“Use that word now,” said Billie, “if you want to keep your shame to yourself and crawl back into the same dysfunctional rut that drove you here. Otherwise, shut up while I gather your team.”
#
Less than five minutes later, Billie surveyed the full lineup of the Mind Benders in playroom seven, taking stock of what she now had to work with.
Rewind — Able to control time itself over short periods and short distances. Intensely hourglass-shaped and dressed like a fifties housewife if she’d had access to eighties neons. Semi-official leader of the Mind Benders team and positively oozing with den mother vibes.
Silhouette — Able to make darkness solid and shape it to her whims. Cute, goth, and tiny even on her platform boots. Alternating between stonefaced and wicked smirks.
Little Devil — Able to shrink from Human to subatomic size in 1.8 seconds, or stop anywhere in between. Equipped with his devil-red shrinkable environment suit. Not too pleased with Billie right now, for interrupting his date twice in one night, but unable to resist joining the rest of his team after hearing that a member was in need.
Sylvan — Strong, invulnerable, immortal elf princess, still stripped to a thong and leashed to the bedpost.
“Sylvan has something she’d like to say to you all,” Billie prompted.
“I’m sorry,” Sylvan spoke to her knees.
“You can look up, now,” Billie told her.
“I’m sorry,” Sylvan repeated, looking each of her teammates in the eye. “I’m sorry I haven’t shown enough respect for the softness of your bodies. In recompence, I invite you all to educate me through mine, violently, if necessary. And I assure you, it will be necessary.”
The other three Mind Benders exchanged cautious glances.
“I… I’m not sure about this, ladies,” said Little Devil. “I mean, you’re crazy hot, Sylvan, obviously. You all are.” He glanced around the room and back to Sylvan. “And I can’t say I’ve never wanted to teach you a couple lessons in Humanity.” The slight lift of the corner of his mouth revealed more temptation than his voice. “I just feel kinda weird mixing those two things. I don’t know if I can hurt a friend on peaceful territory.”
“I get it,” said Billie. “You’re heroes. You’re a team. This goes against a lot of instincts. But let me tell you, she can take a lot for a beginner. And the horror of humbling herself in front of her colleagues really gets her going, doesn’t it, princess?”
Billie untied the leash from the bedpost and gave it a tug.
Sylvan nodded, face burning, nipples hardening before her teammate’s eyes.
“So, if you can find any way to enjoy yourselves at her expense,” said Billie “it’s a safe bet you’ll be doing her a favor in the process. Just be sure not to let her rush the climax. That would spoil this whole sweet gesture of hers, wouldn’t it?”
She rattled the leash, and Sylvan gave another nod.
Silhouette was in one of her wicked grin phases, and Rewind crossed her arms, tapping thoughtfully on her elbow.
“That sounds doable,” said Rewind. “If it’s that important to her.”
Sylvan’s eyes widened with combined delight and terror.
“Great, so, first, the practical notes,” said Billie. “Any supernatural effect that gets within three feet of me will stop working. Any person who has even a millimeter of skin within my radius will have all supernatural abilities stripped from their whole body for as long as they’re there. So, I’m going to sit here.” She settled herself against the headboard of the bed, leash in hand, and tugged Sylvan around to face her, so that she was on her hands and knees with her back to her team. “Sylvan’s going to stay at the very end of her tether, with just her forehead poking into my radius, so she stays as powerless and fragile all over as the softest Human. As long as the rest of you don’t come any closer to me than, say, her chin, you’ll be able to do whatever you want to her, with full access to your own powers.”
“Me first!” Silhouette jumped in, grabbing the light switch.
For a moment, the playroom was pitch dark.
When the lights came back on, a patch of darkness remained around Sylvan, shaping itself in response to Silhouette’s gestures. It formed thick vines, which tested the edges of Billie’s power radius, finding the exact barrier where they would fade out of existence if they crossed it. Settling into place just behind that barrier, they twined themselves around Sylvan’s wrists and neck, forming a makeshift set of stocks around her, sending down a few strong roots to anchor the structure to the edges of the bed.
Once the shape was complete, the vines slowly began to grow short, sturdy thorns.
Sylvan yelped when she turned her head to better see her new prison, and discovered one of the thorns along the side of the neck.
“Oh, they won’t go deep,” Silhouette assured her with sharp, taunting undertones. “They’ll just scratch you up a bit. Temporarily! Until you get your powers back. And not even that if you stay very still.”
Two thornless vines extended from the sides of the woven mass and snapped themselves against Sylvan’s ass in rapid succession.
Sylvan moaned once for the pair of blows, and then a second time when she’d had the chance to recognize her new rings of scratches.
“Oh, we will most certainly be doing that again,” said Rewind, with well-contained but growing excitement.
She executed a precise counter-clockwise twirl, brightly colored skirt flaring outward, and time itself reversed along with her motion. The vines made contact with Sylvan’s ass again, erasing the pink marks they’d left.
When Rewind stopped, time resumed, and the vines snapped again, putting the marks back in place.
Only the consciousness of the five people in the playroom was unaffected by the reversal. Sylvan moaned differently the second time around, experiencing the same pair of blows all over again, without forgetting the first round.
“The next set will hurt more,” Silhouette warned gleefully. “With your skin already all raw like that. So don’t be surprised if—”
She swung the vines again, before finishing her sentence.
Sylvan gasped and drew blood against the thorns that circled her wrists.
“I said not to be surprised,” Silhouette teased.
Little Devil hung back, watching the women intently.
“You know, a warmed-up G-region can take a hell of a pounding without it even qualifying as pain.” Billie noted to him. “Maybe you could start there.”
Little Devil thought for a moment. “Do you want that, Sylvie?”
“Yes!” Sylvan answered between more snaps of Silhouette’s vines. “Hit me where no others can reach!”
Tentatively, Little Devil climbed onto the bed behind Sylvan and pulled her thong down around her knees. He eased one finger from each hand into her opening, and shrank himself down to crawl inside.
Silhouette paused her vines to wait for him to get his bearings.
With no other reaction on her face, Sylvan asked out loud, “Was that intended to be a punch?”
Billie could hear the slight thud of Little Devil’s second attempt, but Sylvan still barely responded.
“Harder,” she told him.
Turning around, Little Devil poked his head out, hanging upside down from inside her. “How’s this?” he asked through his suit’s speakers. He gripped her lips and kicked her G-region hard enough to send himself shuddering back and forth inside her, as if he were wrestling with a thick rubber band.
“Throw your stifled feelings upon my flesh!” Sylvan encouraged. “Make me feel them!”
Little Devil wedged his back against the rear wall of her vagina and kicked again, three times in a row.
“Speak them out loud!” shouted Sylvan. “Tell me the memories that fuel your fire!”
“I was just thinking about that time you told me to ‘make myself presentable,’” Little Devil admitted. “After Count Tornado broke my arm.”
He kicked harder with this, hard enough that Sylvan finally winced with approval.
“Make yourself presentable, princess,” he teased, with another heavy kick. “Better not let anyone see you moaning about a little physical sensation.”
“I can’t help it,” Sylvan moaned. “Please, don’t allow me to help it!”
Little Devil found a nice rhythm, punching and kicking, occasionally stopping and pinching Sylvan’s labia to keep the torment going when he needed a rest.
At the same time, Silhouette’s vines whipped against Sylvan’s soft ass at unpredictable intervals, painting it with an expanding crisscross of pink lines. Other vines wound their way up and down her legs, scratching and threatening to drag her knees farther apart.
“Am I still the same?” Sylvan asked.
“What was that?” Billie asked, not sure she’d caught the question right.
“The pain, it feels as if I should be able to see it,” Sylvan struggled to explain. “Shattering my body, twisting it somehow….”
Silhouette summoned the shadows out from under the bed, formed them into a wide mirror, and hung them on the wall to Sylvan’s right, so she could see for herself as the next vine lash landed across her ass, adding to that pretty pink web, but leaving her the same basic shape as ever.
Little Devil waved at her, his tiny upper body dangling from between her legs, and then gave her an extra hard kick.
Silhouette followed up with another pair of hits, faster than usual.
Sylvan responded with an extra desperate groan, grinding her hips against the air.
“Oh, that looked like a good one,” Rewind said and turned a full pirouette, sending Sylvan through that particular kick and pair of hits again.
Caught up in the moment, Silhouette jumped into Rewind’s arms, wrapped her legs around her waist, and kissed her on the lips. The two made out heavily, while the spanking vines continued to do their work on Sylvan’s ass.
Little Devil went on pounding the back of her clitoral nerves, leaving his hands strategically placed on either side of the external bud, denying her that final, direct push over the edge.
Billie watched, fighting a mournful urge to crawl closer to the others, to reach out and touch. The old feeling of being the outsider, the one she usually came to the Moaning Mask to escape, settled particularly heavily in her chest.
That didn’t stop her from being incredibly horny, however. She undid her belt buckle and reached down the front of her jeans. If she couldn’t have the kind of contact she wanted today, she could at least have the kind that Sylvan was bucking and whimpering for, without being able to get it.
As she stroked her own clit, Billie reached out the one way she could, with her voice.
“Just think, princess,” she said, signaling Sylven to look up at her. “Everything we’ve done to you, people do for fun. A lot of people. Now, imagine if we were real bad guys.”
Sylvan’s cheeks pinkened with the thought. “I’m sorry,” she started to murmur. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Her hips were rocking harder, enough that it was becoming difficult for Little Devil to stay anchored inside her.
“What do you think?” Billie asked the others. “Is she close to learning her lesson?”
“Even if she’s not, I doubt she’s strong enough to take much more,” Rewind taunted, setting Silhouette down on her feet.
Billie expected Sylvan to insist that she was strong enough to take any penance her teammates chose for her, but she couldn’t seem to stop moaning and humping the air for long enough raise any argument at all. It was definitely time.
“Still feel like being nicer than she deserves, Devil?” Billie asked.
With a nod, Little Devil stopped kicking. Instead, he gave Sylvan a friendly pat on the clit, gently took hold of the edge of her hood, and began pulling it back and forth, giving her the faint friction of the skin itself across her nerve endings.
Sylvan’s moans of sensation began to build in intensity. Little Devil escalated to playing a rapid drum solo across her clit with both hands.
She took in a gasp of air, ready to fuel an orgasmic cry.
At that moment, Rewind took another counter-clockwise twirl. “No, I don’t think so,” she said.
Sylvan whimpered as her buildup dialed itself back down with the reversal of time, and then began to build again.
“Please,” she hissed. “I’m so sorry, please.”
She reached another gasping edge under Little Devil’s hands.
Rewind twirled the same way again, dialing her back down.
“I could keep you on time-out for as long as I want,” Rewind reminded Sylvan. “Without this hour coming any closer to an end.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sylvan murmured, giving up on more direct requests, surrendering to Rewind’s pace as the orgasm built yet again.
At the start of the next gasp, Rewind twirled even faster, clockwise this time, skipping time ahead by vital seconds.
Sylvan cried with confusion, finding herself too soon in the aftermath of an orgasm she’d had no time to feel.
Rewind chuckled.
Silhouette landed one more vine strike before she could stop herself, drawing a sharply pained cry from Sylvan, and then looked up at Rewind, in awe of her audacity.
“Did I…?” Sylvan’s voice dropped out of the sensual cooing her apologies had taken on. She suddenly sounded as genuinely plaintive as she had when Billie had first figured out her reason for being here. “Was I really that horrible to you all?”
Disappointed tears spilled out in her chemically altered state.
“You were bad enough to need to think about what you’ve done for a good hard moment,” Rewind answered.
Then she relented into a small, indulgent smile, and twirled counter-clockwise again.
Time resumed at the moment before Sylvan’s orgasm, and this time, Rewind let her go.
Sylvan thrashed against the thorny stocks, straightened her long legs out behind her, and slammed Little Devil into the bed under her to grind herself against him.
His laughter came out muffled through his suit’s speakers.
The moment Sylvan’s moans passed their crescendo and began to taper off, Rewind twirled again and sent her back to the beginning.
“Earth and moon!” Sylvan swore as the waves crashed over her again.
Halfway through the orgasm, Rewind twirled again, once to the right, then twice to left, cutting her off, skipping to the end, then returning to a few seconds before the beginning.
Sylvan didn’t seem to be sure when she was, until the orgasm hit for the third time.
Unaffected by the shifts in time playing out in front of her, Billie had caught up to the edge of her own orgasm.
She pushed herself over, in sync with Sylvan, and basked in the flood of pleasure while watching the same ecstasy wash over Sylvan’s face in front of her.
Well, not quite the same. Billie’s pleasure was secure and immune from tampering, while Sylvan’s was full of tense uncertainty, but Billie could not have guessed which was more intense.
Rewind let Sylvan run her course completely this time, until she slumped exhausted against the vines and whispered, “No more.”
It wasn’t “Mercy,” so Silhouette left the vines in place, but Rewind seemed to feel it was about time to leave time alone.
Little Devil wriggled out of Sylvan, and out from under her. He jumped off the side of the bed, returning to his normal size to land on his feet. With the release of a few pressure seals, he unzipped his environment suit and set the helmet aside.
Silhouette had been rubbing her hands over her body, hungry for attention, and at the sight of available dick, she pushed Little Devil back onto the bed in front of Sylvan and climbed on top of him without stopping to undress.
Little Devil showed no objections whatsoever to this, helping Silhouette push aside the panties under her skirt and holding his erection steady for her.
Once she was in place and riding him roughly, grabbing at the side of the thorn stock for leverage, he reached out in Rewind’s direction.
“Room for one more,” he said, and wagged his tongue.
Rewind primly slid her panties off under her skirt and accepted his invitation, climbing onto his face.
Rewind and Silhouette held each other up while they fucked him together, kissing and reaching down each other’s tops for nipples to rub and pinch and suck.
Little Devil spread his arms luxuriously, reaching for Sylvan with one.
Billie was a little surprised when he reached for her with the other one, just as casually, as if she were part of the team, now and every day.
She supposed there was no reason he couldn’t invite her closer, now that he was back to normal size anyway.
He stroked Sylvan’s thigh comfortingly, and touched the open zipper of Billie’s jeans in a gesture of questioning. Billie took his hand and guided his fingers very gently against the lips of her pussy, orbiting her contented clit.
No superpower could allow her to skip her recharge time, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to build to a second orgasm the ordinary way in the time they had left, but the contact was nice all the same.
She leaned back and stroked his arm, watching him with Silhouette and Rewind, and watching Sylvan watching them.
Even leaning against the thorns that held her, temporary scratches all over her neck and wrists, Sylvan looked utterly peaceful. Billie suspected that it was not just the orgasms — just one, physically, but about three mentally — that had soothed her.
“Glad we made it real?” Billie asked.
“Indeed,” Sylvan sighed, reveling in what might have been the first tension-free moment she’d shared with her team in months, maybe years. “I chose well, coming to you.”
Billie laughed at her choice of words. “Do you make a habit of describing group efforts in ways that give you as much credit as possible?”
“I suppose,” said Sylvan. “I had not thought on it.”
Billie grinned. “Maybe that’s what we’ll spank you for next.”
