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Alternate Timeline: The Cumming of Siphon	By : TheChemist Category: 1 through F > Arrow Views: 9913 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Title: Alternate Timeline: The Cumming of Siphon - CH.4 - Part 1 - A Board Meetings Trajectory
Show: Arrowverse
Author: The Chemist & Jak O’Hara
Pairing: Thea Queen/Oliver Queen
Codes: MF, MMFF, FF, Anal, DP, Incest, Oral, Rim
Disclaimer: I make no money from this. I don’t own or have anything to do with Arrow or the
rest of the Arrowverse or its characters, especially Barry Allen, Oliver Queen, Thea Queen, Isabel Rochev, Mia Smoak, Nora West-Allen, Gideon and Iris West
Summary: The following morning to an aching head and drained balls, Oliver Queen is awoken to an angle on one shoulder and a devil on the other, guised as the revered Dr Eliza Harmon and the feared Ms Isabel Rochev, who he's had difficult past indiscretions with. Seizing her chance, she plays her trump card...

“Mr --een, Mr Qu--n, Mr Queen!”
Gently nudging his side, Oliver Queen was woken by an inaudible mumble.
He groaned as he lifted from his contorted position, his head felt light, surprisingly light, like it was being supported by hands.
“Mr Queen? My god, can you hear me?” the voice rushed downwards, sounding oddly exasperated.
At first, it sounded like his sister Thea rushing to his side through his muffled ears, probably because he was late for some appointment. She was a very efficient assistant, usually coming up to check on him before work as she often did.
Disseminating the all too familiar feel of hands on his pants, he smiled a little from the smooth contact across the fabric of his trousers like a synonymous sinner would who smelt the scent of a saint’s unspoiled sweetness. Though he was puzzled when he felt them rising instead of dropping for some reason?
He also noticed that her face didn’t seem quite right somehow but did not let it bother him, and it wasn’t really like he could see his surroundings all that well anyway, apart, of course, from a few shades of emerald somewhere behind the enigmata.
Sensing the bulge in his pants beginning to spark a flare at the thought of her treating him to one of her sensually shameless morning wake-ups the two would engage in regular affairs after Thea’s 18th birthday, he struggled limply-tingling arm up to greet her. It felt sore, like he’d been laying on it all night.
“Mmmm-and what’s got you looking so sad Speedy?” He said in a dizzy sense of detachment, stretching out one hand to cup the beautiful woman’s cheek but was gingerly stopped on his way up by a soft hand that locked up his movements faster than an unpaid hooker’s hole.
Squinting in the warm morning’s light, Oliver struggled to make out the lady’s outline before him. His head throbbed profusely like he’d hit it on something.
Gradually, after pushing his eyes into better focus, he could see how the newcomer on his side crouched in a strange position beside him. Sooner than that, he became aware that he wasn’t at home but was instead lying on the hard marble floor of his lavish office at Queen Consolidated for some reason?
“Oh thank Christ, are you alright? What on earth happened here?” Hearing the voice again, it definitely did not belong to his sister.
“Oooh shit, my head...what happened?” He asked, looking around the room; and in doing so, saw one of his massive glass window walls had been utterly shattered, leaving a near 80-floor sheer drop to the street below, thankfully however, the wind had died down since last night, so there was no immediate danger. Though blinking a few times in total disbelief as the events of the previous evening began to take shape in his mind, he saw the office around him had been overturned with various objects of his property that littered the floor.
“I was rather hoping you could tell me that yourself,” the voice croaked in an almost ladylike way.
“I mean one moment, I’m racing up to speak with you regarding some last-minute concerns I’ve found relating to the Velocity Project, and the next thing I know I found you and your very uh...hung friend there, lying on the ground.” The woman pointed to a sleeping Diggle on the couch behind Oliver’s head, utterly disoriented with pants pulled down below his ankles. She had somehow managed to pull his underwear back up over the bodyguard's tree trunk sized legs.
"I also found some kind of micro subsonic fluger impact-delivery dart embedded in your chests when I arrived?” The woman continued, holding up the little dart to show him after helping the dazed billionaire up a bit when sporadically, her concerns unexpectedly diverged off the beaten path.
“Mr Queen, you really must understand that these higher than average readings in this new rendition are troubling, most troubling. Particularly, in three out of the eight main components we require for its viable creation, which you’ll now find shows slightly higher than expected regenerative properties...like far, far beyond anything we originally anticipated actually,” she attempted to direct his attention to a silver tablet held in her right hand, displaying some red line graph that spiked in three sections.
"Wait wait wait, who even are you?" Oliver asked with groggy bluntness, beginning to wonder if he was hallucinating.
She waved a hand dismissively. “Later, anyway, at first I thought, hold on, that doesn’t make any sense at all since the theoretical components needed to keep these precise chemical figures aligned don’t exist anywhere on the current periodic table.” The woman’s expression morphed into a frown at the mention of the formula, momentarily turning away from Oliver who held out his hand towards the tablet.
Since it sounded more like a rhetorical statement than one that required an actual answer, Oliver chose to remain silent, merely staring on at the portable screen through fuzzed eyes before she continued onwards.
“I’ve gone over it for an hour and a half already, racking my brain about how he could have possibly broken down the lysosomes in the extracellular matrix’s genetic structure with such precision when we don’t even know exactly what we’re looking for,” she started muttering incoherently before going on about something to do with the lines of a repeated cycle of regeneration. At that time, Oliver handed the tablet back to her.
“Mmm-ugh, I don’t really see why this is bothering you,” he frayed out a grunt under his breath to this still, as of yet, unknown woman.
“It bothers me sir, because Dr Allen’s ability to seemingly solve this miraculous achievement overnight seems a little too convenient to be true,” the woman told him, looking somewhat fatigued.
“I mean, wouldn’t one typically seek out experts in the field of biochemistry before attempting something as bold as this?” She brushed her hair behind her left ear, adjusting her glasses a bit.
"I'm sure Dr Allen is perfectly qualified," Oliver began, attempting to sound a bit less condescending than he was feeling towards this woman at the moment.
"Oh he certainly is, I trust him, I do, that's not the issue here” she replied. “The issue is this, this unprecedented territory for all of us, we haven't the faintest idea of how these instabilities will react with the other vital chemical factors we already have, and then there's the unauthorized use of my fabrication room around 9 pm last night to worry about, when I got to the lab I saw it had created some kind of…” She paused with her eyes narrowing to a thin line.
“...I don’t know, Superhero Halloween costumes or something,” Her voice shrilled a fraction with the word. “And now it’s currently mass producing this new serum as we speak. I can’t even manually override a shutdown command because somebodies locked me out of the system, locked me out of my own creation. Now, who else would have the authorisation to do something like that?” She looked at him, already knowing the answer; she wanted to hear it from him.
Oliver grunted, “R-iii asked Barry, sorry, Dr Allen, last night to create the new suits you saw before I came here; as for the new stuff, I have no answers for you; I assume he’s just being preparing for today’s meeting,” he said rubbing his eyes together, exhausted from constantly hearing about this damned new serum.
She merely shrugged, “But why would he mass-produce so many vials?” The words hit Oliver’s ears like a dull clap of thunder that shook him to his very core.
“Wait, mass-produced? What are you talking about? How many?” he asked in a hushed whisper, his curiosity caught like a fish on a hook.
The woman seemed to pause at this question as though afraid to answer.
“I-i’m not sure; last I checked, the machine had already finished cooling around 250 vials before I came to speak with you.”
“250 vials!? Of a new V formula?” Oliver’s voice jolted up a little in surprise before his spitting headache came back with a cracking vengeance.
“Jesus fucking christ!" Oliver cried out, the echo of his voice bouncing about the office. "Each one of the previous versions cost roughly around 1.5 mill to manufacture! That's why we only made 6 of them. Now you tell me it’s mass-producing this new shit?” His cool seemed to snap.
“Yes,” Her voice came out so stiff it may as well have come from an automated appliance. “And the number is very likely even higher than that by now; as I said, my machine has been on its automatic replication function since last night, and I can’t stop it even if I wanted to."
"Can't you just kill the power? Eh, pull the plug so to speak?" Oliver asked, now looking pale and disoriented from the potential cost this error may cost him and his company.
"I'm afraid not sir, it's self-perpetuating now, so you see the urgency for which I must speak to Dr Allen at once.
Oliver took in a deep breath to try and make sense of what he was hearing.
“Look just, relax a minute, ok,” He now seemed suddenly tired, falling silent and looking down at his shoes as if he had just noticed them for the first time before speaking.
“You talk like he’s not here yet?”
“That’s because he isn’t, Sir.”
Oliver’s eyebrows shot up themselves in a jolt of sudden surprise. “That’s quite the precarious irregularity for him,” saying as his eyes moved up to stare at the woman, whose face had been completely lost in the ray of light beaming between them.
“I’m sure he’ll show up at the last minute, you know what he’s like,” the billionaire said through closed eyes from the sun, thinking to himself how hypocritical that statement sounds coming from his own lips, after all, if his own daughter from the future hadn’t come to her senses and bailed on their most exhilarating night, it’s doubtful he would have shown up here today himself.
Ahh, who was he trying to kid, he likely wouldn’t have shown up for this meeting for any number of reasons, it's not like he needed a valid one anyway, many of them carried the X chromosome and could be found all over the city. After all, he once upon a time almost did not show up for his own codicil inheritance meeting when his father’s will was read because he was busy being balls deep in a grief bender that took him all over the city, from the upper echelons to the lower slums in the Glades, objectivity was never an issue for the billionaire, never differentiating between the poor and the rich.
To him, any good time was as good as the next, never mattered where he got it or for how much, as long as someone would show, he was satisfied and when someone didn’t, he’d just go out and find someone else who would. He never considered himself a man who focused on one woman more than once unless they performed a special role in his life, and he’d found a few selected females over the years that offered him special uses sure, but still, it did not change the fact that he was only here today under the sheer force of his drive to retrieve the Hōzen for Blac-
“Oh shit, Blackstar,” He suddenly jolted his head around the room. He recalled that hard elbow dropped by Sue last night into his temporal-displaced daughter's ribs as he looked around the office for any sign of her. Still, there was nothing except a single green arrow left on the floor where she had shot at the sensual spy just a few hours earlier.
“Did you see a woman in a green hood and leather jacket when you arrived!?” He asked his apparent guardian angel to his side.
“A woman? Uh, should I have?” She reflected the question back with an undefined slight shrug.
That came as a strange, almost soothing comfort to his rapidly growing list of worries as he remembered she had jumped out the window after Sue. His hands dropped down to feel through his pockets, long as it was still there, if the Hōzen was still there, then he could give it to...It was gone...
"SHIT!" Oliver shouted involuntarily, completely consumed by the thought that his coming here was all for nothing, that he-
“Whoa hey, just um, just take it easy, just relax,” the woman’s voice came calmly and reassuringly, directing his attention to the couch behind him. “It looks like you’ve had one heck of a rough night, Mr Queen,” she said with a warm chuckle.
Oliver smiled a little now as well, he could now see the woman with total, unblurred clarity.
“Thank you, uh...I wanna sayyy Emelia?” He slurred out somewhat absentmindedly, sitting up on the seat next to Dig as he only made a half-hearted attempt to remember her last name in his groggy state.
“Uh, no sir, my name’s Eliza,” The woman shifted a little, slightly upset at his inability to recognise her.
“You don’t remember me?”
Eliza Harmon was a gorgeous caucasian woman of around 26 who sported a head of dark chestnut hair, tied down back slickly beyond her hazel green eyes, staring intently from her smoothly shapen face just above two of the most abundantly plump breasts Oliver had ever laid eyes on in his building. Yet despite all attempts to escape their seemingly unjust confinement, found themselves unable to break free, concealed behind a professionally tailored white and black suit vest that perfectly complemented her well-defined hourglass figure by long and lean blue-black jeans, a tightly-fitted lab coat wrapped around her upper body with the new trademark Q.Consolidated emblem embroidered on her upper left breast pocket.
Harmon, known throughout the city as one of the most brilliant young scientists of her generation, was hailed for possessing an unrelenting will of steel whenever challenged by a problem or roadblock, starting all the way back when she began interning for the notorious Mercury Labs.
Recognized these days as one of the youngest experts in the newly emerging fields of molecular nanochemistry and biotechnology her unparalleled abilities and significant preeminent scientific breakthroughs were hailed by peers and the public alike after she created the world’s first successful Creative-Ultrix-Matter-Micronized-Intelligent-Nanite-Geographer, or ‘Cumming' for short. Her actions secured the first sizeable successful development created after the Q.C. buyout. Utilising her radically new bleeding-edge theory of breaking down unstable molecules and re-harnessing them into whatever kind of item she so desired, her invention would eventually lead to a vast array of new applications to aid in reducing humanity’s dependency on fossil fuels, chemical sources and carbon manufacturing.
Put simply, she was the first person in human history to safely break down and reconstruct pure atoms into whatever she so desired, inside of what, was in essence, the world’s most advanced 3D printer. Though currently the size of an entire room, the ingenious creation was planned to go on the open market once Queen Consolidated found a way to condense the invention to something a little more closet-sized, with return revenues estimated anywhere from 30 to 45 million dollars a month. It was literally going to change the face of the planet...Yet that did not happen.
Eventually, as is often the case, word got out about her efforts. Harmon was ultimately surprised when she was approached by several interested parties, all of whom presented generous commission offers for her endeavours. From small businesses like Jitters, who asked her to create a new genetically engineered coffee bean, unlike anything the world had ever tried before, one that would carry four times the kick of an organic pod. And while not willing to pay anymore than a cost of a single batch of this new indistinguishable super flavoured coffee in the long run for her efforts, Harmon would instead, receive a lifetime supply of coffee from any Jitters branch she entered in the world as well as have a drink named after her, the amply dubbed, The Harmonizer, would begin production once the terms were agreed upon.
Obviously, she turned them down, utterly insulted that such a ludicrous proposal would ever, no, could ever be pitched to her. Seeing her work as far more important than the success of a single poorly crafted and considerably expensive espresso drink, her mind would have likely remained that way. Still, when she was then approached by one of the 12 subsidiaries of Amertek Industries, an oil and gas company located on the industrial rim of the city, who wanted her to help them create a new explosive residue that would combust internally in order to help with the safer excavation of their new mining operation, Harmon found herself in a moment of weakness where she honestly considered taking them up on their offer.
After taking the proposal to Mr Queen, the major executive in her mind, seemed strangely disappointed in her failed foresight to recall the simple fact that she was no longer at Mercury Labs and that she works for him now, for Queen Consolidated now, not herself, it was not her call to sell her invention for whatever purpose she saw fit, it was his.
Not desiring termination for noncompliance or any other kind of work-related misconduct, she swallowed her pride and agreed to do him a favour to overlook this minor oversight. But she knew his type, she'd met many like him during her time at Mercury and she knew that he'd jump at an opportunity to take advantage of her, which would almost certainly end in some sort of sexually degrading compromise she would never be able to forgive herself for.
But it turned out she was wrong to underestimate Mr Queen, to think of him as a stereotypical run-of-the-mill businessman, after shocking her one evening when he asked her to appear in an organised interview on Citizentopia’s *Behind the lies* new’s exposé, which Mr Queen himself personally funded with the promise of her very own lab department at Q.C. if she conducted a little...promotional discussion with SCN-Citizen Media’s very own anchorwoman, Iris West-Thawne, as a means of trashing her former place of employment’s already fleeting reputation and went on to state: “I was just so sick of always being passed over for—for the grants, for the promotions, whereas just down the hall the latest male endorphin stimulant testing received enough funding that the team working on it actually had enough to blow the rest in Hawaii for 2 weeks after the project failed, it was infuriating! I was underpaid and understaffed and six months behind on my research! But thanks to Queen Consolidated’s bold enterprise decisions and the help of Dr Allen and my other associates, I no longer want for anything, they truly spare no expense there,” making sure to look right at the camera for that last sponsorship.
Due to this daring act, Eliza was hailed as a feminist icon in the international media's eye for calling out the giant corporation’s greed and sexist policies, particularly on the fact a woman as skilled as she was, one who earned every penny of her efforts was bearly making enough to support herself let alone afford to spare funds on any kind of lavish holidays. Meanwhile, almost all her male counterparts earnt easily over $11,200 a week for doing little more than messing with their own boners. This outrageous insult had the entire live audience booing with deafening passion, and an hour later, they were trending hotter on Twitter than Stargirl's newest leaked nude pic. And while this was not Eliza's intention, Iris, regardlessly made sure to capitalize with her now-synonymous tagline: “Powerful women don’t need superpowers to be powerful!”
This is why, perhaps inevitably, Mercury Labs was put under heavy scrutiny and extensive reviews, which launched an invasive threeway coordinated by the C.I.A., Federal Trade Commission and Public Relations, and unfortunately for the Lab, it didn’t exactly take an overly bright team of I.R.S. auditors to flip through the copious amounts of incriminating financial transactions laid out before them and launched a lawsuit against the company so ass ripping, it might have well been considered a sexual assault on account of how hard they were fucked.
Strangely enough, many of the employees who actually worked there did not find it too surprising when required by law to sign nondisclosure agreements or an N.D.A. for short, stating that they were prohibited from speaking of the multiple inhuman acts committed for what many suspected was illegal and unsanctioned meta-human testing or risk prosecution under the Meta-Human Rights act of 2015, or that the company filed for Chapter 11 protection in S.C.N.C. Superior Court roughly a month after Eliza’s interview.
To the woman of science, this wild fame and success still seemed far too surreal, given that it was only a little over a year ago she considered herself a rather insecure perfectionist, always struggling to acquire the necessary funds to finish her research, the constant neglection of her ideas by the higher-ups of the lab were a large part of what drove her to question whether or not it was even worth her time to pursue further finances at all.
So when she picked up the phone one day and was told that she had been personally offered a position by the esteemed Dr Harrison Ryan Wells, a man with short blonde hair and handsome good looks who founded the highly fabled Star Laboratories, well, naturally she jumped at the opportunity for a fresh start.
She could still recall the cold shot of celebratory vodka she and Mr Queen shared in his office that night after her podcast interview. Amongst other drunken fluids shared as well, that is...the last thing she recounted before their bodies lusted after each other was the apathetic and sinister words Mr Queen coldly expressed after taking a sip of his drink, saying: “Ahh-another chest piece knocked off the board, thanks to you my dear.”
True to his word, she was granted her very own laboratory as thanks, and Eliza loved working there every day since. And after the first promising test run of her creation, she was personally assigned by Mr Queen to the new Velocity experiment, which was announced a month later. Oh, she truly felt like she’d finally been given a chance to rediscover her passion for science, unburdened by such trivial things as financial backing, and at the rate her research was improving, she’d finally be able to-
“Harmon, right?” Oliver exclaimed with a snap of his fingers in her direction, Finally catching on to her last name. “Black D Cup?”
“I-i beg your pardon?” Eliza’s voice perturbed a bit in confusion at this new announcement, snapping her suddenly back to reality.
“You were the Black D Cup bra, yes? And you wore those red freesia lace-lingerie panties as well, if I’m not mistaken?”
Eliza’s arms wrapped around her chest on instinct as she nodded, feeling the burn of embarrassment searing at her lack of response. She wasn’t sure how to follow up on such a seemingly invasive personal question.
“Well-I- uh,” stammering slightly as her cheeks illuminated in brilliant crimson.
Oliver heaved himself up to a less strenuous position atop the couch. “Aaaah-don't worry, I have a hard time recalling the vast number of new females we employ here, and of that large majority, I can only recollect them mainly based on their bust size and prevailing attires.”
“...And they say misogyny is dead,” Suddenly, both their attentions snapped towards the door as a new voice came from behind Eliza.
“Oh, goodie,” Oliver mumbled under his breath, only audible enough for Harmon to hear.
Standing in the large glass doorway lingered the grandeurously slim figure of a sharply dressed woman. Her luscious dark mane of shaded pecan hair snaked and spiralled southwards with her pale complexion with a manner of poise Eliza had never witnessed before. She wore a small silver earpiece over her right ear. Promptly swathed in a black suit jacket with white pinstripes lines that cut off at her hourglass waistline her toned legs came to a stop at the end of her business-hugging work skirt just above her knees, giving off an excellent display of her legs which were hidden underneath thin charcoal stockings that ran into her equally dark stilettos. Her face retained tight cheeks and supple lips, coated in a light layer of mahogany red lipstick. Her dark hazel brown eyes were entirely devoid of readable emotion as they stared down upon the boss and employee who dawdled a little too closely against the couch.
“M-Ms Rochev!” Eliza blurted out in surprise, quickly bringing herself to a more appropriate position and took a step away from Oliver, who had barely moved an inch.
The unshakable respect and fear this new arrival held over the established genius was quite perceptible. Within seconds, her entire body seemed to grow numb with trepidation as a guttural rumble arose from her throat.
“Thi-This is not!-Ma’am this is not what it looks like at all! I-i found him-” Eliza quickly tried to explain the precarious situation before the newcomer, but was cut off abruptly by a decisive hand that ushered solemnly for her silence.
“Oh please, spare me all the insidious dribble Doctor,” spoke Ms Rochev in a sly, silky smooth tone, rolling her eyes in exasperation as she stared at Eliza with controlled scorn. “Of course it's what it looks like, but to be quite honest, I can be bothered to care at this point. I’ve already wasted far too much of my valuable time chasing up the frankly myriad amount of sexual harassment claims the company's been plagued with due to its negligent excuse for an owner, and from the looks of this, little infraction, will just be another case on the pile,” Her stern gaze fixed itself on Oliver, who simply shrugged in place of a reply.
“Well, I always aim to please,” he said with a pretentious arrogance swirling in his voice, remaining where he was.
Pulling her shoulders back a bit, the slim woman inhaled sharply, readjusting her posture a fraction, more akin to that of a wild tiger readying to pounce on an unsuspecting prey item than her usual distinguished businesswoman persona she usually portrayed herself in, then she sighed, annoyed that she even needed to follow him up at all.
“Don't bother going to any straining lengths to flatter yourself Mr Queen, I've always found your lascivious antics to be quite an appalling trait,” Rochev’s condescending comment came out in a rather levelled, venomous tone.
"Says the woman who came twice on our last 'business flight' to the ol' fatherlands," Oliver beamed with supercilious oxidation, as if the entire situation were nothing more than a usual exchange of pleasantries.
“Ms Harmon, would you kindly give us the room?” Rochev's nostrils flared for a second in a manner that left no room for any sort of leeway. “I need to confer Mr Queen in private.”
Eliza’s eyes flickered rapidly between her two superiors as they locked eyes. Feeling the situation was about to turn unpleasant, she decided to speak up.
“Um, Ms Rochev, if I may,” in a measured tone, she moved her hands unhurriedly to the grey tablet, “I really need to bring the seriousness of these-” She was suddenly cut off once more.
“Miss Harmon, you are a woman of science are you not?” Rochev’s icy voice cut through the air like a perfectly polished dagger, slashing down on its intended target, leaving Harmon stunted.
“Uh...well y-yes...” Harmon stuttered perplexedly at the required severity of the question.
“Then whatever the problem is, I suggest you go...fix it,” she said with a cool edge of unnecessary bluntness.
“But Ms Rochev I-”
“I’m sorry," She turned her whole attention to the scientist with meager surprise, who was backing away now. "...I mustn't have been clear enough," It was a chilling feeling to have this woman so focused on you, Eliza thought it was no wonder why all the other technicians and scientists at Q.C were afraid of her. "Get out, leave me and Mr Queen before I have you escorted out by security, now, did I, stutter?” Rochev paused methodically between brief breaks in her usual commanding tone of condescending immovability.
Within a moment of stunned silence, Eliza watched on as her boss’s iron-clad steel gaze fixed on her, the dark brown depths glistened slightly with systematic annoyance, before finally, Harmon took the hint and turned to leave.
“Harmon,” it was Oliver’s voice, stopping her briefly, “I have faith in you, and the work you're doing,” He shook a nod of cool indignation that reached a thin warm smile just before she left.
Now all alone with only Rochev in the large office, the intimidating lady turned her hardened gaze back towards the billionaire as he grunted with strained effort, trying his best to turn his aching body towards her.
“Raaagh-So, to what do I owe the...presence...of your visit this early in the morning Rochev?” He said, rubbing his eyes with lingering sleep.
“I usually tend to make it a habit of having my mornings more fun-sucking than you know, soul-sucking,” with no qualms about being impolite, his irritation and affliction festered in the pit of his stomach so vigorously it was a wonder he didn’t faint at the sight of her.
“Oh, I’m unfortunately far too aware of how you spend your mornings Queen,” the copper-haired woman was less than impressed at his brash approach, keeping her voice short.
“And at the risk of using too many big words for you to follow, I’ll put this simply,” lips smirking slightly as if using basic phrases was something that brought ingratiated pleasure to her day. “You’ve truly gone out of your way to fuck up things this time Queen, where were you last night?”
“Oh Joy, another interrogation,” Oliver muttered under his breath as he tried to drag his growing frustrations under control. His expression mixed an equal blend of curiosity and disdain to hear his supposed latest shortcoming from this shrill woman.
Sighing, he took in a breath; “Haaar-If you must know Rochev I was here all night long, going over some of the latest readings Doctor Allen had sent me regarding the V-project,” He explained solemnly.
The woman scoffed in amusement as if she’d just heard the dumbest excuse ever.
“Oh Queen, you honestly expect me to believe that?” Her brow furrowed in skepticism. “Forgot who you were talking to?”
Throughout corporate dichotomy, Isabella 'Glau' Rochev was a feared figure whose ruthlessness was only matched by her staggering beauty. A callous professional with a notorious history of hostile takeovers along a string of businesses all over the world, which eventually lead to the 'gutting' of every business she ever acquired, despite their weak initial yield, she quickly transformed those corporations she deemed 'useful enough' under her thumb into a highly profitable string of conglomerate enterprises.
With her wealth, came power and with power came influence. Thus she rose to dominance through the ownership of numerous smaller businesses from the now decommissioned Ace Chemical manufacturing, to Hotels like the Ostrander, the Payson and even the Hochman. Eventually, reaching the vice-presidential spot of Stellmoor International, where she really began to do what she was best and most famous for: acquiring and pillaging any business she deemed ‘useless’.
But it hadn't always been this way, although being almost the same age as Oliver, Rochev had come to join Queen Consolidated years earlier, not due to any means of nepotism, but instead right out of college, hand-picked by Oliver’s father, the now late Robbert Queen and offered the position of personal assistant toat the age of 19 during one of his motivational speeches to the youths of S.C.N.C. University, for likely rather apparent reasons. Then, at the young age of 22, left the company to begin her game of life-sized game of monopoly, finally coming back around the board and arriving back at Q.C with a whopping 12% of the supercities infrastructure in her privately owned corner.
Over the years she was away, she’d only grown more influential, and power-hungry, then when Robert’s last will and testament were read, it stated that she, Isabella Rochev would receive 50% of his company's stock.
Oliver was outraged, thinking at first this was just his father playing some last sick joke on him from beyond the grave, or that maybe it was a final attempt by his dearly departed mother to find him a decent woman to set him on the right track to becoming a proper businessman and perhaps husband one day. If that were the case, then she had failed miserably in choosing this...father fellator, this woman of questionable ethics, to say the least, now seemingly owned half of his birthright, half of the empire his parents spent their entire lives creating. Oops.
It was outrageous, it was unfair, who was she to muscle her way into his family’s legacy? Oliver always coldly suspected that she must have had something to do with their family’s yacht capsizing in the North China Sea, and was therefore responsible for the subsequent deaths of his parents, though, of course, he could never verify this theory because no trace of the vessel was ever found...
“Where's my sister Rochev?” He asked with a softness to his voice. Not replying immediately, the standing woman instead curled one exceptionally conditioned brow towards the ceiling with a look of utter drudge.
“What makes you think I’d know?” Isabel said with a placid expression as she turned to survey the surroundings of his office.
“Because no one in this place can so much as toss a tampon in the wrong bin without you knowing Rochev,” he said, feeling that steady monotonous anger growing slowly behind his eyes. "Now are you going to answer my question or what?"
She just shrugged. “How should I know? The whereabouts of your junkie sister are none of my concern.” She was obviously trying to push his buttons. “If I had to wager I’d say the entitled little whore has probably snuck into some crack house and is now too busy blowing some diseased street junkie for her next fix I’d imagine,” Oliver’s response came out swift as it did succinctly, erupting to his feet through his splitting forehead, looking as if he was about to slap her.
“What in the fuck did you just say about my si-”
Cut off abruptly by the lanky woman once she raised a dismissive hand to stop him dead in his tracks immediately.
“As I, said, your sister’s whereabouts are not my concern; I am here merely in a professional capacity to discuss the break-in last night.”
It took Oliver the better part of 10 seconds to lock down the festering rage that still burned a scorching fury on the other side of his face, it was all he could do to scarcely suppress the desire to knock down his reluctant co-partner right there and then.
“What break-in?” He clenched through gritted teeth and curled lips.
She scoffed at that. “Really? You're really going to try and play the unaware card when, that speaks for you?” She paused, and pointed to the wall beside his desk. A square part of the wall hung ajar; something protruding from behind. "Isn't that your private safe?" She said, bearly keeping the satisfaction out of her voice.
His jaw hung open and Isabel remained for several moments, seeping in the satisfaction of his shock.
"Awh shit," Oliver groaned out, he lay his head in his hands. He didn't even need to make his way over to know that it was totally cleared out.
"How much did you have in there?" She asked, already knowing the answer to that question.
He paused and sighed. “Somewhere around 50 to 70 grand in unmarked cash.”
“Cash only?” She said seeing the sting on his face.
He sighed again and continued, “Some diamonds, a few grams of coke, stock certificates, corporate bonds...” He trailed off, “I figured it would be safe there."
“Well," Rochev let out a disappointed sigh. "Not a bad little score for our intruder, all things considered."
Oliver wasn't fooled, he knew it was all for appearance's sake, Sue must have broken in using his fingerprint when he was unconscious from his first darted dose and staged it all to look like a robbery.
“There's more," Rochev began, "Securities informed me of a larger theft that took place inside the building at 10:00 pm last night,” she said, snapping Oliver back to present events as she allowed her eyes to once again roam around the office, before finally stopping on the small green arrow lying between the broken window and the corner of his desk.
For a woman who had just brought forth a man’s primal tendencies to commit acts of violence and the driving urge to see her put ‘back in her place,’ she was remarkably calm, placid even. Such confidence in the face of unbridled outrage like the kind he felt was, needless to say, beyond impressive. Even after insulting his sister to his face she still believed she had his number and was not afraid to prove it.
“A larger theft? What do you mean?” Oliver blinked, looking to where she was looking, massaging the muscles in his face by rubbing his hands over and over after unclenching his fists.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Oh you oblivious imbecile, do you not even know what transpires in your own company?” Snapping her fingers at him like a dog trainer to an insolent mutt, attempting to reacquire his attention.
“Obviously I’m referring to the missing project on the 21st floor.”
At the mention of that, Oliver’s eyes widened substantially, not from the obvious insult, but from the fruition of what she was talking about; his previous anger was blown away, like light smoke in a heavy breeze, now replaced with the need to know more about this development.
“Ah shit,” groaning, he sat back down on the couch next to the still horizontal Diggle and rubbed his temples, the throbbing at the base of his skull had not yet dissipated.
“Are you seriously going to stand there and tell me that the A.T.O.M. Project, the most revolutionary invention we’ve been allowed to disclose to the public since last year's merger...Is missing?”
"Not missing, Mr Queen. Stolen," Rochev replied with a matter of fact manner, a chilling deadness hung in her eyes as still as a lake in the middle of a deserted desert.
After that, there was a long silence, one which spoke all that needed to be said, before Ms Rochev finally spoke up.
“Supposedly, someone infiltrated the building and managed to incapacitate one of the employees, a nightguard I believe,” Her gaze drifted gradually downwards diagonally towards the floor, where it hung for several seconds. “They must have disabled the security cameras throughout the building because we’ve no footage of the perp before all the emergency lights throughout the building were activated. Subsequently, the project was stolen using some kind of special signal jammer to deactivate the ray-shield protocols. I wasn’t overly interested in the specifics of the whole ordeal but, putting 2 and 2 together, one could easily assume it may have been orchestrated by...” She stopped in evident intention, looking back up to him unhurriedly as if to give him a chance to figure it out for himself.
“Raymond...Palmer...” Oliver spat out with ragged contempt, the anger that dissipated only a moment ago suddenly flared back through him like a superheated torch as he stared into her eyes. “Goddamn it,” he growled, “He’s been chasing after that stupid shrinking project of his for the longest time.”
Rochev seemed to give this accusation some mild-mannered consideration. And for just the briefest moment, it seemed like the two CEOs were on the same side.
“Mmm, It’s a valid possibility, he did, after all, commission Star Labs back in the October of the previous year to assist Palmer Tech in developing the dwarf star alloy into something tangible, that is, before you impudently bought it out for a ludicrous sum of capital, and the whole deal got marred up by allegations and forced quarantines, the whole investment was ever so messy,” Rochev continued ever so nonchalantly. “But it gets better,” she finished with a sly, almost a ‘too bad to be you’ grin that appeared on her face like it always wanted to be there.
Before she could even open her thin-lipped mouth again, Oliver, perhaps already knowing what was coming next, held up a hand in a gesture that said ‘hang on a minute here.’
“You mentioned there was no footage of the perp before the emergency lights were activated throughout the building, but you didn’t say anything about afterwards.” Oliver’s tone had now morphed from smug anger to a more irritated, tired grumble.
Rochev almost could not keep the satisfaction locked down behind the corner of her quickly smirking smile as she reached into her breast pocket with her right hand.
“No, well, not officially of course,” pulling out a small black clicker of some kind, she pressed the central button, resulting in an electronic beeping that rang a little too loudly through the weary canals of Oliver’s eardrums.
Emerging upwards from a receding section of the wall opposite his desk, appeared a large old-school television unit that, to Oliver, the unit looked rather out of place amidst all the sleek and sexy futuristic furnishing that covered the vast open office by comparison.
“What the hell is that?” Rising to his feet in a motion of astonishment. "Since when is that been there?” he said, pointing to the newly revealed secret.
“Like it do you?” Now her voice was the one rivering past him with an air of overconfidence, almost drowned out by the sound of metallic droning and white hi-fi noise from behind as he watched the T.V. static stutter and crackle its way to life.
Oliver’s astute senses picked up on the trim aesthetics around the flat screen, which resembled something akin to an old Indiana Jones film. There was a small, almost temple-like architectural charm to it. Complete with dried vines wrapping around the edge of the screen and tiny mossy mock patches spread out around the bottom of the wet, dark stones, that held up the monitor’s weight in a cutoff, pyramid-like fashion.
Looking at it now, he couldn’t help but think back on the periods of his childhood when he’d watch Raiders of the Lost Ark with his father late at night. Even when Robert had work to do the next morning, he'd drop everything to watch the classic with his young son whenever it came on. To Oliver, that was a good memory that would stay with him forever, despite his old man's many other shortcomings, and terrible judgement calls in women. This fond tradition they both shared was something he promised himself he’d do with his own boy one day once the time came, but as things stood now...
The memory now hurt to reminisce over, remembering how he would never get to experience that same kind of adhesion with his father ever again when suddenly the screen showed a slightly fuzzy but disconcertingly lifelike image of Queen Consolidated’s head office, and from what looked like a top corner view he could see...himself?
"Wait, what?" Oliver exclaimed, but no reply came, instantly setting off a flurry of alarm bells ringing throughout his mind.
His head shot back, instantly looking behind him to where he thought the unknown picture was being shot from but was shocked to find that he couldn’t see anything, not even so much as a glimmer.
“What? So you’ve been spying on me with hidden cameras?” He shrugged, trying to remain calm while a thin panic etched its way across his face as the ramifications of this techno deception started to niggle around in the back of his skull.
Isabel only scoffed a sharp chuckle of amusement at the idea.
“Like I’d waste my time on...no no Queen, this is all your father’s doing.” There seemed to be no sarcasm at the mention of her former lover’s whim.
"My father's?" Oliver said, confusion mixed its way into his voice as he raised both eyebrows in surprise and pointed to his chest in total disbelief. "No, no that's not true, that's impossible!"
“Afraid so Oliver," Rochev said, her use of his first name gave him a sickening chill down his spine. "He had these placed all throughout the building, he was a fool, not an idiot. He kept all kinds of insurance policies and devious deeds at the ready if he ever needed them,” She let out a small sigh, almost like she was reminiscing a memory she hadn’t rekindled for a long time. “Haa, it was one of the things I admired about him so,” she muttered out under her breath, staring absentmindedly at an undefined patch on the floor before recomposing herself.
“What? No, no wh-why would, why would he spy on me, he wouldn’t...” the word came out like rotten vinegar, spat out with a bitter edge, “On me?”
“Oh, good god, do you seriously think the world revolves around you that much?” Her face wore the smuggest expression he had ever seen her sport, she was still clearly thinking about his father.
“Not everything’s about you, you moronic simpleton, example A, the main lab...”
Clicking a button, the screen changed into an old retro inexact transition that solidified on a woman in a white lab coat with waves of gorgeous chestnut hair. She seemed to be quite irritated. Rhocev clicked a button on her clicker and audio began coming though, a little choppy at first but then it picked up.
“Who does that cunt think she is! Dismissing my concerns on the project like that?” She was talking to herself while writing in her notepad, her slender frame and dainty hands then reached for a beaker filled with some kind of green liquid, to distract herself from her rant.
“My my, Ms Harmon better get that alluring temper of hers under control quickly if she’s going to put on a little show in under an hour,” Rochev seemed perfectly levelled as she watched the bewildered woman’s face.
Oliver raised an eyebrow, “Alluring Temper?” He said, having a look of true surprise on his face as he focused on what was on the spectator.
Ignoring his remark, she clicked the device in her hand again, “Conference room.”
The screen changed again to another view of a long table with 12 or so chairs separated into groups of 6 on each side that reflected the emerald green flooring most profusely in the adjoining space at the other end of the same floor. Nobody was yet present.
“And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more interesting than that, the women’s bathroom,” with a press of her fingers, Rochev switched the seemingly unimaginable video feed to an area where the angle of the camera sat perched in the corner above a toilet, overlooking the large stall and sink mirror.
Before Oliver could utter any protest, a woman exited a bath stall to wash her hands in the sink opposite the door. In the small hygiene station, she sported light brown hair garbed in a neat bun above a pearl science coat which looked eerily similar in some ways to the one Eliza had been wearing earlier, but this badge read ‘Q.C. Applied Sciences division’ in the upper right corner of her breast pocket instead of the left like Harmon’s had.
Her clothes seemed rather ruffled for someone who looked as captivating as she did, with a light film of sweat across her porcelain white skin, while her skirt lay misshapen around her waist, one hand went down to try and tug it back up to equilibrium but failed to do so.
“Well, hello there, and just what do we have here,” paused Rochev as a grin grew across her face, looking at the monitor as if she’d just tasted some kind of delicious piece of forbidden fruit from a tree of scandalous sustenance.
Scanning the screen, both Oliver and Isabel obviously recognised who the woman was immediately but chose to keep a mutual speechlessness between themselves as they watched on in silence. Perplexed at the way she seemed to be musing something over with herself in the washroom’s mirror, the same way you’d try and assure yourself of something important, they decided it was better not to speak and just observe events as they played out.
Then, suddenly, in a most unexpected move, she looked down at her breasts in the reflection, cupping both in each hand effeminately, as if deliberating whether or not they were of adequate size.
Oliver thought it must be the older videotapes more undoubtedly antique recording ratio or perhaps it could have been the lighting, but for the briefest of moments, he could have sworn he saw the woman’s eyes flicker a bright shade of icy white with dark midnight black pupils at its centre for just a second in the reflection before shifting back to their usual dark hazel brown. She peeked over her shoulders, checking if she was alone, which evidently, she wasn’t, before turning to face herself in the mirror once more.
“For Christ's sake F, what have I told you about taking over my body before work??” The voice sounded somewhat exasperated to their ears for some reason as she washed her hands copiously with far more cheap liquid work soap than one would generally use, causing Oliver to turn a raised eyebrow at Isabel. After it became clear that she had no intention of helping him clarify what they were seeing with a mere shrug, he returned his attention back to the screen.
“No n-o, no! I’m serious this time, I can’t do this anymore, I can't keep backing out and waking up at work covered in strange men's semen every morning! Someone is ‘going’ to catch on, do you understand me? We’re so playing with fire here F," she stopped and paused for a space long enough for a reply, but there was nobody around to oblige.
"Ok, uhuh, I know ‘fire’ is a bit of a bad example to you, but if we keep this up, we are going to get burned, it's inevitable.” The woman on the screen argued to her mirror reflection, now releasing one hand off her supple breast to reach a single finger pressed against her lips in order to silence...herself? The whole thing looked like some strange game of charades to the duel CEOs.
“Arrgh, I'm already well aware you possess a higher than average healing factor thank you, but-but. *Sigh*, no actually, see, unlike you, I have a life, I have a job, I can't just, ‘get off,” she made quick quotation marks with her free hand. “As you so elegantly put it, on the thrill of being caught actually, and for your information,” She snarked at the mirror. “I’m not looking to get fired for workplace indecency over the sake of some cheap thrills, alright!?" Her speech slowed seemingly slow enough in the way one would scold an ignorant child. “No, it doesn't matter if I’m not part of that ‘stupid board meeting thing’,” She was talking upwards slightly now, as if to an invisible bug buzzing around her head.
“So for the last time, forget it, I'm not just going to get to play with ‘myyy’ body before I start ‘myyy’ job!” The intense emphasis on the word my was most abundantly clear and stuck out to Oliver over all else.
“Poor girl,” Rochev articulated, “Pressures must be getting to her, slowly descending into madness.”
“Pfff! And what's that supposed to mean, huh?” She satirised the invisible figure with a myriad of crumpled up facial features.
Then, suddenly, the woman’s body began to stagger in jolts as if she were possessed by some kind of old phantasm spirit, hurling herself back against the corner of the wall with her hands to her chest.
“What the hell?” Oliver stated through increasingly enamoured eyes as he watched on perplexedly.
Isabel’s eyes widened a fraction at this seemingly new change in behaviour.
“I’m serious F, don’t you da-” but it was already too late as her own hand flew up and slapped her across her own face with staggering force, knocking her head to one side as her other hand pulled her shirt apart and flashed her bust through the coat's front opening as if a hurricane had blown through it. Her voice however was as calm as she could manage.
“Ow! You little...was that really necessary?" She looked into the mirror again with a mirth-filled grin appearing like an evil reflection as a single trickle of blood ran down from the corner of her mouth.
The woman began chuckling to herself, but not out of laughter or joy, instead, it was almost as if this self-harming act was some kind of last straw event that Oliver and Isabel were blissfully unaware of.
"Ohohoho, I am so finishing the cerebral inhibitor as soon as this is-” She said into the mirror again to no one in particular as a stinging red mark began to form on her cheek.
Scoffing, she now glared towards the mirror on the right as her eyes seemed to flicker snow white once again before changing back to normal. The tiny red trickle of warm blood appeared to have vanished along with the mark?
“Oh shut it! I am not a snowflake!” She said, suddenly offended as her hand began to rub and squeeze between her breasts in groping motions, sighing with annoyance.
“Maybe it's some kind of, I dunno, kinky psychological disorder?” Oliver’s voice piped up as he watched the video feed, glancing back over his shoulder.
They watched on as the woman’s hand delicately slipped down her body, towards her waistline, she now seemed more alarmed.
“Mm! Jesus F, please...don’t do this right now. If somebody walks through that door we'll be firrrrrrrrrrrred!” she bellowed as two fingers suddenly shoved their merry way inch by inch past her pink lace panties, then into the wet darkness between her thighs. It was like she had no control over her own actions. Her eyes focused themselves on the mirror as she listened to her own moans of pleasure over and over again in ragged breaths, her fingers squelched to an audible slurping noise as they plunged into the moist folds.
“Oooh god, F- I’m begging you!” She squealed in ragged gasps, trying to resist but it was futile as her fingers slinked back into her already soaked entrance, pulling her panties to the side, all whilst she stared herself down in the mirror, like she could see something in it.
'Good lord, what is going on here?' Oliver wondered as he watched the self masturbatory display on the screen before him but felt nothing except a burning pain on his prick as the reminder that he was totally tapped outstretched over him in painful lashes.
Rochev simply watched on, clearing her throat once after witnessing the initial push.
“Oh god, god, god oh god!” The white woman moaned out over and over again her fingers sunk back into her slit one by one, driving themselves into her pussy up on the edge of the restroom bar, body held up only by one leg that ran down ajar, she thanked goodness no one was near or far.
The moans, the groans, the grunts and cries, the squeals, the whimpering, and even the delightfully cooing writhes were all that could be heard over the speakers as the pleasure from her body quickly became far too overwhelming just to let it subside.
As the fingers began to piston in and out faster and faster from knuckles to the tip, her tight breaths became more ragged on the mirror aside her lips. In one exhalation the heat of her breath bloomed out across the glass but was then followed by an unexplainable gush of chilled air that evaporated the meek heat in an instant that then seemed to repeat and repeat. It was seemingly both the most mystifying and mesmerising thing Oliver had ever witnessed before.
“A-uhhhhhhh god!” The woman moaned senselessly as her body bucked violently once the pleasure from her pussy began to swell in ever-growing waves. For what seemed like forever, the speed of her fingers increase to a fevered pace as they slipped past her outer lips, quickly correcting this mistake and driving them back in with more profound effort within the sudsy warmth, her thick inner walls gripping the invading fingers as if to sustain their frantically sloshing pace.
“Fine! you want it! You got it! Come on then, y-you icy-cold bitch, if this is our last orgasm as one, then you better give me everything you’ve got! You hear me!” The woman squealed in utter delight as her body continued to convulse and grind against her naughty fingers, her breathing building and building until she let out a sweet and glorious moan as she climaxed hard and fast.
"Nnngh! Oh yes! Ahh yeah! Yes! Take it! Take it! Ahh! A-A-AAHHHHH!" The woman continued to scream out breathlessly as her insides tensed up and came in a furious rush of juices shooting out of her lower body in three feet high spectacular sprays like an arcane waterfall that streaked several feet across the small room. When the most unexpected spectacle happened, they thought it was an error with the video on the other end, but the female ejaculate seemed...stuck in place? Like a gorgeous fountain frozen in winter, they once more witnessed her eyes turn ghastly pale, just before the screen was shrouded and covered in a misty white vale, and by the time it cleared...the woman was no longer on-screen...
“Ehem, well, that was a...most unexpected development,” Rochev’s voice needed a moment to recompose a little after witnessing such a tantalising scene, remembering what she was on about before she’d switched the feed.
“Eh, Micro-cams, right,” She answered the unsaid question in an almost dull tone. “Separate from the building's main camera feed, meant to keep an eye on employee activity, some of which goes back years. Of course, this also includes a number of more...private recordings in the system as well, even old visits of some, oriental slum trash from the Glades by the name of Kazumi Adachi.”
Considerable scorn left her lips at the mention of the woman’s last name. After a pair of seconds, she managed to lock it down and gesture with her left hand towards the image.
"Perhaps what is most interesting is that before his tragic passing, your father left me and only me with the knowledge of their existence and never thought to wipe any of the recordings.” Her remarks were spoken with an almost amused amount of ridicule.
“Remarkably discreet, aren’t they...” Rochev glanced down at her wristwatch as if mildly disinterested and with better things to do now on her mind.
A sort of worrying guilt began to churn in the pit of Oliver’s stomach over what he already suspected was coming next.
'Heeeere we go,' he thought internally to himself.
With a final click, the screen switched back to the top crevice of his seat as the live footage on the screen rewound with an old school backwards transition. For the briefest moment of pure stillness, Oliver could see himself and John Diggle standing stiffly by the door last night as the play button was hit, and the motionless Oliver sprinted to his desk as he sifted through the office space.
“Late night Mr Queen? You seem pretty excited over a rock. What, was it some kind of sentimental thing dear old dad left you?” Not a word left his lips.
After observing another couple of seconds, Oliver couldn’t believe what the screen now showed. Now no more than 2 feet away from the lens poised the familiar figure of a beautiful young woman of fair caucasian skin in her mid-twenties who was clutched suspended above his past self like a spider on a web in the upper office’s ceiling. She wore a familiar reflective black latex suit protecting her firmly-sculpted breasts and svelte, toned body. Alongside the hidden polaroid, spread hands clasped the roof beside her head as both her feet were stapled in place against either side of the walling below.
With malignant sheepishness, the woman’s head turned towards the screen, as if she had known it was there all along, and propped up two fingers in a universal symbol of peace, like she were taking a selfie, smiling quickly thereafter, she blew a kiss towards the lens, followed by a rather inappropriate tongue and cheek motion inside her mouth, the gesticulation almost made Oliver smile a little himself upon seeing it.
'Sue,’ He lamented internally, wondering why she had seemingly gone out of her way to reveal herself on film? She struck Oliver as a far more competent thief than that. Back on the screen, she was shown elegantly rappelling down her strong tensile coil to the floor below. With multiple silent spins on the way down. Eventually, landing in front of his bar, the final piece of her infiltration now made abundantly clear to the billionaire.
“Here alone all night huh...” Rochev quipped with a somewhat sarcastic air of up-and-coming menace that made the hairs on the back of Oliver’s neck stand straight in attention.
“Can I assume that there will be no need to watch back last night's rather vulgar performance you and Mr Diggle performed on this...female,” she pressed the fast forward button.
“Not unless this is where you get your kicks from,” he pointed laconically to the screen which now played at 2x speed.
Watching the sped-up version of both he and Diggle as they fucked the petite redhead simultaneously. Watching, it gave the long blonde haired man a peculiar sense of deja vu, thinking back to just a few hours ago in real-time when he and Barry had injected themselves with the experimental V just to keep up with their daughter's ridiculously hot make-out session back at Star Labs. And in a detached part of his mind, he wondered what that would look like from an outside perspective. Did it look like this? There wasn't time to ponder, he turned to the callous woman standing in the room next to him. Ready finally to address this laughable little attempt to squeeze him, and not in a fun way.
“Look, Rochev," he said, readjusting himself, as if looking to get more comfortable. "Hate to burst your bubble here, buuut this isn’t exactly abnormal behaviour for me, so if you’re looking to threaten me with a good time, you'll have to try a little harder than that,” Oliver said, wanting nothing more than to end this rather unpleasant interaction and get on with his morning.
Unfortunately, no matter how confident he felt at that moment, the next would reveal just how unprepared he truly was for her next move. With pure surgical precision as she brought her finger to her lip and tapped it gently over and over, she was now staring directly at the screen, her eyes sparkling with malicious glee.
“Well if you insist...eto budet delat'?” (will this do?) Her pronunciation of the last few words had switched abruptly from her bilingual English back to a flawless Russian accent as she clicked the button again.
“YA nadeyalsya, chto my doydem do etogo momenta.” (I was hoping we’d get to this point.)
“I kakoy imenno smysl?” (And what point would that be exactly?) Once hearing the new language brush past him, Oliver too switched to Russian, his tongue now soared along the familiar and archaic language without a hitch. Thanks to his many years at business school, a plethora of sparse tongues were always at the ready to be utilized on a whim. He thought for a second that his pronunciation was a little off, since it had been quite a while since he last used the verbiage.
Rochev's thin smirk crept up again. “Potomu chto ya znayu vashu malen'kuyu mrachnuyu taynu Korolevy, tu samuyu veshch', kotoruyu vy tak staralis' skryt' ot pravleniya, ot glaz obshchestvennosti i osobenno ot Merlina. YA imeyu v vidu, chto ya ponimayu, pochemu on, v kontse kontsov, byl vashey sem'yey, samym dolgim investorom. Tak chto eto zastavlyayet menya zadat'sya voprosom, kak dolgo, po-vashemu, eto prodlitsya, yesli u nego kogda-nibud' budet shans uvidet' etot nezhnyy moment mezhdu brat'yami i sestrami...” (Because I know your little dark secret Queen, the one thing you've tried so hard to conceal from the board, the public eye, and especially from Merlin. I mean I can see why he has, after all, been your families, longest-running investor. So that makes me wonder, how much longer do you think that would last if he ever got the chance to see this tender moment between siblings...)
His face immediately whitened pale as a ghost as the last word left her lips. He turned to see the screen changing once again and recognised the corner date immediately, as it suddenly slowed and reeled to a grinding halt before playing on him, with shorter cut hair, sitting at his desk gesturing for someone that was presently off-screen and unseen to enter, when an all too familiar figure walked into the room.
“Well, you’ve sure been keeping awfully busy lately, haven't you,” The new voice came from off-screen as the young frame belonging to none other than his own sister, Thea Queen, strode into focus between the space from the door to the woodwork surface and dropped a heavy load of paperwork onto the counter and sat one leg crossed over the other on the edge.
In reality, Oliver’s heart thudded at the exact moment the hefty stack of papers hit the desk, as the screen zoomed in on Thea's face, she was raising her eyebrows in infantile amusement, looking straight at him in her usual squinty-eyed way, as brash and boastful as always.
Standing closely behind him, Isabel Rochev couldn’t help but dig her claws in at the satisfaction she received from his fear. “Akh, molodyye devushki v Amerike, oni vsegda tak bystro rastut, vy soglasny?” (Ahh young girls in America, they always grow up so fast, wouldn’t you agree?)
Back on the screen's high view, Thea brushed her beautifully shimmering strains of straight cut hair out of her eyes and dropped it down past her shoulders. She wore a simple, yet elegant black dress with cut-in red sides that spread out in descending triangles from her bust to her tightly clung legs, the sight stood in stark contrast to the sapphire dress she'd worn within recent memory back in the present as she went on to intentionally bend over on the table to get a better look at her brother's computer, a slender hand crept ever so slowly across the mahogany surface, towards his hand.
“Heya Ollie, what'cha doin?” Her intentionally unmistakable youthful voice came in slow soothing coos as a piano would when played to perfection.
Without looking away from the desktop in front of them he replied, “Just trying to decide on some female company for tonight,” slumping back in his seat in defeat. "Here, maybe you can help, Speedy," He snapped his fingers twice, partly to get her attention and partially to hasten her assistance in this matter.
"Which one of these girls would make you wanna switch teams for a night?"
On his screen, an abundance of sexually styled women were spread out across the desktop in a disorganised fashion. Thea recognised the encrypted folder as the kind sent by the cities leading mistress of criminality and pleasure, Mistress Amunet Black, who notoriously ran the biggest underground prostitution ring in the entire city. Specialising in superheroines for 'hire' or costumed individuals with a 'particular set of skills.' And all the women on the screen were affiliated with the Queenpin of courtesans in one way or another. This much was obvious to anybody, given the many different states of undress each were in, as well as the way each stood in different positions with various backgrounds behind each. Some showed a sandy beach, some showed icy mountaintops with gorgeous views and others showed lush jungles with various plants and trees growing up and out of the frame.
“Nice, Amunet has a new lineup for you then?” Thea asked her big brother.
The billionaire nodded. “Yeah, in her own words, says this new batch needs’ breaking in,’ and she was supposedly kind enough to offer me first pick before, he made quotation marks with his fingers, ‘my other less-venerable clients soil them like all the others.’”
“Well, that doesn’t sound ominous in the slightest,” Thea continued in an almost snobbish tone.
She looked at some of the photos a little closer. The woman in the snow card sported a vaguely Brazilian complexion and was shown to have mint green hair and green lips. She was spun around to give the illusion of a panoramic view where you could see for miles and miles from the mountain's peak, that is, if you could ever get past her view, her thin green skin-tight pants were pulled down over her unsurprisingly thick ass that seemed to be leaving tiny steam trails as the snow hit it. Across the bottom corner of the card was scribbled a phone number and a doodled white signature read: Beatriz da Costa, Adria Arjona's got nothin' on me. The signature was scrawled over what looked to be a burnt kiss, partially obstructing the corner on the card.
On another card, the woman on the beach was laid on a towel under an umbrella, that partially shielded her face from view, Thea thought it may have been just the small quality on his screen, but it looked like she wasn't alone as two other figures seemed to be there alongside her under the shadow of the umbrella, one of them was, ironically, holding it up and the other lay aside her, sitting up just over the central woman. All 3 wore thin, skimpy bikinis of varying colours, almost as if they had been organised that way? Thea thought that was a little odd but then again, it's not like their swimsuits left very much to the imagination anyway. Again like the previous card, laid a phone number and an autograph, though this one had 3 lipstick smears across the holographic gleam in different shades of black, red and purple that read: Looking for a Legion of pleasure? Why not triple the fun with Luornu Durgo? But just for you, you can call me Triplicate Girl, hehe.
And on the 3rd card in the middle of a jungle, Thea could now see upon looking closer that there was some kind of Mayan brick temple covered in overgrown vines and moss to emphasise the overall mystic appeal of the scene. And standing in the centre, with one hand around her neck and the other over her crotch, stood the otherworldly figure of a woman in a gold and black hawk helmet that sported ancient Egyptian harem-wear that was held together by golden chains and rings that looped up and down her legs and breasts. The material was white and translucent and gave a shimmering quality to her already dark skin. It gave her the appearance of some kind of goddess or ancient princess. But perhaps the strangest thing was for some reason, whoever had decided to create this card included wings, actual wings on this woman's back, and even though they looked quite convincing, Thea knew they had to be props for the photo. As is signature with all the others, this card read: Cum if you dare mortals and attempt to satisfy the reincarnated High priestess, Chay-Ara of Egypt. Uniquely from the others, this one did not provide a phone number or the trademark lipstick imprint as all the others did.
And there were some others covered behind these top 3 contenders but Thea couldn't make out their faces, just that they were in bikinis of some sort since it was too hard to make them out, lost behind the reflection of the laptop's screen.
Finally, she sat up a little and looked back at her brother, who at last looked at her for the first time since she had entered the room.
"Well?" he said, waiting for one of her usually helpful answers.
“Well if you really want my opinion," She paused, switching tones now to something a little softer, "I think all these women look stunning but,” She looked behind herself to the large glass doorway she'd entered to make sure they were alone. “If it's female company you want, then you can have aaaaaaaaaall of thissss for as loooong as you want,” Musing in a deliberately seductive tone as she used her approaching hand to grasp his wrist gently and bring it up to press against her covered breast.
A smile moulded its way onto Oliver’s face, kneading the supple flesh.
"Well...you are right, I am a very busy man," he said as his hand remained on her chest, Oliver let his eyes wander lucid all across her delicate features. Starting point naturally began at her soft pillowy tits, all-natural from 18 years of mature buildup as he and Isabel watched from the monitor as his view worked his way down her incredibly fit body to her black high heels, then back up her mile-long legs. It didn’t take any newly acquired scientist to deduce his intentions, especially as his hand started to curl into a groping motion when suddenly Thea’s face changed drastically.
“Why, Mr Queen…how inappropriate this is,” Thea mocked and turned her head a little to the side, smiling coyly back with a mischievous grin. “I mean you’re my boss and… I’ve just started here at the company I... wouldn’t want the other girls thinking I tried to seduce the handsome CEO right away,” Her smile sprouted into an adorable giggle.
“Benefits of nepotism Speedy,” he grinned, "Other people's opinions don't mean jack shit to people like you and me."
So, his baby sister wanted to play a little hard to get roleplay, did she? As if they hadn’t done this same song-and-dance time and time again since they jumped in balls deep past the incestuous line last month after her birthday had come and gone.
“Have it your way then,” Oliver lightly encouraged. Getting up from his chair, the billionaire strode out from behind his desk, looming over Thea with his arm draping over her shoulder to keep his hand clutching her small but perky breast.
He pressed his chest against her back and inhaled a deep breath through his nose as the stifling scent of her hair smelled of well-maintained strawberry shampoo. Thea softly cooed and wiggled her surprisingly thick ass against his crotch.
“Vy dvoye kazhetes' uzhasno blizkimi drug drugu,” (You two seem awfully close with each other,) The cold pinstriped undertaker pointed out needlessly in real-time.
Back on the screen, Thea let his one hand fall from her grip as he moved it to her flat stomach this time, however it didn’t remain there for long. Instead, he sought out the zipper to her dress before her big bro pulled it down until the garment was loose on her body. Rather than remove the clothing from her, Oliver opted to slide his palm against her soft skin until his fingers found her tender mound through her panties. Watching well after the fact, the T.V. could never truly show the gravitas of the sensation. Still, Oliver remembered just how wet Thea was at that moment, just from his mere touch upon her skin seconds earlier; she’d felt that contact a thousand times growing up but now took on a whole new meaning, and she instantly moaned out in a euphoric bliss as he rubbed the damp patch.
“As your superior, I feel it’s time for your proper Q.C. induction ceremony,” the dark-haired impresario smirked at his sister, Oliver continued to play the perverse boss to perfection, all while Thea felt his finger friction through her slit.
Her other hand had stopped pulling him away from her body, so Oliver took up his firm grip on her breast, but this time under her dress. Still contained in her bra, Oliver kneaded the fleshy globes and noted that while not the most significant set in the world, they fit Thea perfectly both in size and perk. Besides, her older brother could appreciate the combination of a thick ass and more petite tits on a woman just as much as he loved the opposite.
“But...this is...so wrong big bro,” Thea heaved out through a myriad of moans.
“And yet, no struggle?” Oliver scorched into her ear.
“Mmm I said wrong, not unwanted,” Thea articulated, her face going serious before his finger rubbed her clit once more.
“Then how could this be wrong,” Oliver asked while groping her boob. “Doesn’t this feel so right?”
“Outstanding,” her face contorted into a mixture of shock and pleasure.
In truth, these were damn near the exact same words Oliver and Thea exchanged during their first incestuous affair. Hell, given how smart she was, Oliver was sure that Thea knew exactly what was going on but then again she was just a teenager all jacked up on raging hormones after all and as such she was probably aiming to recreate their first time together. Which would mean an extra special treat awaited him once they got more...horizontal.
With her answer, Oliver took his hand out from down her panties and off her points in order to take a grip of her dress. In one smooth motion, he tugged it back off her shoulders then down her arms, which allowed for it to be skinned from her model-esque body. This time when his hands went back to her skin it was on her perfectly toned complexion, sending jolts of electricity coursing through her excited nerves.
“Mmmm, let me be your little whore, Pleeeeease Ollie,” Thea practically begged in hot long breaths while he continued moulding her bra-clad breasts.
Grabbing her firmly by her upper arm, Oliver spun the leggy brunette back around with sudden force so her perky tits pressed against his solid chest. Then yanked her head upwards roughly by her short-cut hair before devouring her lips with his tongue slicing into her immediately with his sister giving up no resistance.
“Hmph yeah right, you’ll have to earn that title Ms Queen, up on the desk, now,” Oliver instructed, meaning his eager hands had to pull away from pawing her bubbly ass.
From the look on her face, Thea's head was lost in the kissing, ass kneading and body rubbing. Oliver cleared the wood surface with a swipe of the arm, sending the binders and papers scattered on the floor, which allowed the near-naked Thea to climb onto the desk, getting onto her knees atop the sturdy desk. With some pressure, a hand between the shoulder blades told her all she needed to know about what he wanted.
“Like the view,” Thea said coolly after glancing over her shoulder to see her brother staring at her ass once more.
Oliver didn’t answer right away instead he used the chance to run his hands over the smooth, rounded surface of her perfect ass. It was significant for such a skinny girl, but there was still one tiny obstacle in his way. Peeling away her thong left him with the view he was after, that of her pink pussy and tightly puckered asshole flanked on either side by a cheek.
“Ooohhh yes, that’s a sight I'd like to see more often,” he said as he parted her cheeks before leaning in and licking from her pussy, over her taint and finally on her ass.
“Kak… original'no s tvoyey storony,” (How…original of you,) Oliver could hear Isabel's voice from behind, likely rolling her eyes, still lingering in her ruskie tone.
Despite the fact her snatch tasted sweet and flavorful on his first pass, he only had eyes for one hole. Pressing his face deep into the crevice her awesome ass made, her big brother repeatedly lapped at the crinkled surface of her asshole. Oliver didn’t know what it said about him that he loved eating out a woman’s asshole, especially when that woman was his little sister’s, nor did it matter that much.
“Oh...sweet god, that feels so good,” Thea moaned in response to each of his tongue lashes.
“We're just getting warmed up,” her brother teased, giving her bubbly booty a firm but playful spanking.
"Tell me how much you want this,” Oliver said in a husky voice, his tongue trailing up from her rear pucker, dragging across her tender cheeks in the process.
“Please Ollie I want it so baaad…Ooooweee,” Thea mewled, as he smacked her butt cheeks.
"I can't hear you," He barked from behind.
"Please Ollie…Please, I'm begging you!" Thea moaned back.
"Louder!” Oliver ordered, this time smacking both her cheeks with stinging burns that would definitely bruise later.
"LICK MY CUNT...LIIIIICK…MYYY…CUUUUUNT OLLIE...RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!" Thea howled into the empty room, craving his direct contact.
“Much better,” Oliver deadpanned, returning to his licking and lavishing attention on her pretty asshole.
Lick after lick was performed over her backdoor. Sometimes he went fast, starting at the lowest point of her crinkled rosebud and swiping to the top, a journey lasting no more than an inch. Other times he went for long, slow licks that incorporated her pussy and ended halfway up her ass crack. Oliver also changed his tactic after that, using his hands to pull apart Thea’s firm ass, he produced a tiny gape in her poop chute. Narrowing his tongue to a point, her big brother pushed his tongue as far as it would go inside her forbidden entrance.
“Oh yes, Oli! Tongue my asshole!” Thea screamed out in seething pleasure as her hand reached back to hold his head from ever leaving her soft tushy.
He adored his more youthful sibling’s love of having her asshole eaten out wildly as the moans she emitted crescendoed louder and more profoundly the harder his tongue wiggled while buried in her backdoor. However, the boner raging against his pants was starting to ache, thus for the first time in minutes, Oliver finally surfaced and allowed both of them to catch their breath. The muscular man bit Thea’s cheeks playfully while the horny girl kept wiggling and pushing her ass back towards him, hoping to continue his oral assault.
She got what she wanted a moment later as she felt his tongue press back against her hole, but only for a moment. Resuming, Oliver licked up her crack and along her spine, moving over to her flanks to kiss her flesh there as she straightened up against him. With a hand on each of her hips, he rolled her over, the dark-haired girl spun under his lead until she was seated on the edge of his desk.
“Well then, ready for me to start trying?” he remarked after Thea flung the black bra aside.
“Bud' priyatnoy smenoy tempa,” (Be a nice change of pace,) Now definitely rolling her judge filled eyes Rochev watched the little sister’s attempt to rub the man’s hard-on between her naked breasts.
Although she didn’t necessarily have what most would call a giant pair of tits, Thea did manage two full B cups that she prided herself on. But what they lacked in size they more than made up for in their perkiness, capped off with an adorably tiny pink nipple that was already erect even before the muscular man leant down and took one into his trap. Thea moaned in response as he suckled at her breast before softly releasing his suction so he could do likewise to her opposing sphere.
Though he easily could have died a content man just getting to suck on her pert tits all day, he had far more lascivious intentions on his mind than just her orbs. He pulled away from her chest and straightened up. Taking her face into his hands and leant in. Their lips found each other once more with more of their electric chemistry before Oliver broke away and bent back down. Her boobs were just too perky and sexy due to their size.
“Mhmm...yes,” the model-worthy girl screamed.
His mouth and hand-worked in unison so while he sucked and smacked his lips on one of her boobs he was pawing at the other. Thea would give a sharp cry every time he pinched her erect nipple, but he sensed it was from surprise, not pain. Finally, he broke away from her bouncy twins and inclined her back down to the desk, spreading her legs apart.
“Let’s see if you still taste as good as you brag,” Oliver said, staring into her brown eyes while swiping his tongue through her puffy slit.
Thea’s head instantly started swivelling back as her brother ate her out with masterful exactitude. Oliver could do no wrong as each movement of his tongue, each trick he performed was met with a moan louder than the last. The velvety texture of her wet slit felt smooth as it did benign, once his tongue started trickling down her deep hole with machine accuracy. But the best part had to be the feel of her clit, erect and proudly standing tall at the top of her pinkness, which made his younger sister scream wildly as he used his lips to form an air-tight seal around it. He had to admit, her taste was a swift sweetness that he could only describe as nectar from a Goddess with the barest hint of a savoury tang.
“Oliiiie! You-fuckerrr!” Thea swore, tossing her head back in pure elation.
Wanting to throw a new variation at her, using two fingers in her twat, Oliver blasted her pink hole while swiping her sensitive nub. As she was lost in the pleasure derived from his effort, Oliver pulled her legs further apart and slid one of his pussy juice-lathered fingers and placed it against her well-licked asshole.
“Just breathe alright,” he informed her. It was less of a question and more of a statement to the slender beauty as he pushed his finger into her backdoor which yielded his touch without much effort.
“Oh Shit! Fffffuck shit shit argh, god fucking dam Ollie! Thanks for the two-second warning you prick.” Thea said with a wide smile.
“O radost', perebirat' kol'tso pryamoy kishki svoyey sestry.” (Oh joy, fingering your own sister’s rectum ring.) Isabel zoomed in on the action reproachfully.
“Tvoi roditeli, dolzhno byt', gordyatsya tem, chto smotryat na tebya seychas svysoka.” (Your parents must be proud looking down on you now.)
Oliver continued to ignore her, if anything he seemed to be reviewing his performance, like a football player would watch a runback looking for ways to improve his form.
“Rub it,” past Oliver stated a little less cooly than he would have liked as he placed her hand at her clit.
As both the present versions of Oliver and Rochev watched on as Thea heeded her brother specified directions, they witnessed Speedy, with practised precision, begin to rub her clit as Oliver began churning his impaled finger around and around inside her anal cavity.
“Oh, Oliieee! Mmph! sHit!” A sharp breath came and went, “I can feel you scraping my...Umph!...walls!!” Thea cried out in a shiver of pleasure and pain as she came in a myriad of shouting guttural sounds.
She was probably confused at first when Oliver slowed down his spiking backdoor stabbings but like all things he did, there was a reason. Pulling out so only his single fingertip remained to keep her forbidden entrance laxed, Oliver pressed a second digit against the first then pushed onward. It wasn’t as easy with two but they fit and she was soon moaning once more as his tongue plunged deep inside her juicy cunt, lathering it from base to slit with chilling saliva.
As if to confirm his suspicion, Oliver looked up at Thea just in time to catch a devilish grin that he’d only ever seen once before. He pulled his mouth away and watched her face as she continued moaning with her plump lips in a wide letter O shape. Thea’s hand maintained her rapid diddling of her clit while Oliver with his fingers nearly matched her pace propelling into her booty.
“I think...ohh...that I’m...awwhhh...cuuummmmiiinnngggg!”
Over the past month, Oliver had come to learn his sister’s climax signs well enough to the point he no longer required her fragmented verbal warnings as his fingers continued to push and pull inside her, as her own hand-rubbed and flicked so furiously that it came across as no more than a blur. Finally, Oliver felt her asshole clamp down on his fingers and he stopped blasting her backdoor so as not to cause her any undue pain.
“Oh God...no other guys ever been able to make me cum like that Ollie,” Thea told him as she covered her eyes with the back of her hand, laying there on his desk, basking in her post-orgasmic bliss.
He flashed her a warm smile. “Well, we Queens are quite the exemplary breed of course.”
As soon as Thea felt his two digits leave her butt she raised herself off the desk to sit on the edge in order to bring him in for a kiss again. His passion was running strong as he dragged her off the desk by holding his hands on her head. The pair continued to kiss as Oliver stepped backwards, bringing his leggy sister into step with him.
“Shall we indulge ourselves on the sofa in my office which yooou, helped me pick out?” the billionaire asked her as they made their way towards it.
He smooched her neck sloppily before she could reply, this time it was Thea’s nerves that reacted to Oliver’s sensory overload as every goosebump she possessed took over her body. He nudged her along towards the other side of his office next to the window, a visible spot where they could be seen from down the hall or for anyone who owned a half-decent pair of binoculars and found themselves a bit too bored with birdwatching.
“‘A view for which all the women of the city to behold and reflect,’ I believe were your exact words when you came to me with the idea,” Thea teased him mischievously as they sat asunder on the sofa. Her hand was placed on the bulge in his pants. She took his hint and squeezed around his cock through the fancy material, outlining it to be 10 inches long and a satisfactory girth as well.
“A statement I’m sure half of the city can attest to by now,” Oliver smirked childishly, teasing his sister back as she dropped to her knees.
She shrugged, “Fine by me, I was tired of only getting bent over and fucked on your desk like a cheap slut anyway.”
“Whoa now, you make it sound like I’m a man of only second rate thrills and zero class,” He mocked offended, “I also fucked you against that glass wall over there,” he grinned and pointed while Thea drew his stiff cock from his zipper.
“Well...hello there big boy, did you miss me?” Thea said, letting out an excited gleam-filled chuckle, coming face to face with his cock again. “No matter how many times we do it, I always find myself coming back to your cock in the end.”
Thea’s hand automatically grabbed the base of his large worm, observing it more closely and began to stroke back and forth briskly. His smooth shaft was decorated with some small veins, while his cut manhood and exposed pink head looked ever so inviting to suck on. He was also both longer and girthier than the vast majority of men Thea had been with all her more experimental pre-18 years, measuring 10 inches when at full size.
With a wicked grin plastered across her face, Thea licked her lips in anticipation before guiding his cock towards her oral orifice. Showing absolutely no hesitation, the leggy sister opened her mouth before engulfing his bulbous head into her brim. Oliver couldn’t help but let out an audible moan as his head fell back on the plush leather seat.
Feeling his tip touch the roof of her throat, Thea purred. Oliver knew that no one had come even close to this size inside of her kisser in the last two years and relished in this little fact as her hot wet gob worked the first half of his cock over.
“Yes. Suck it,” he moaned in delight towards the brazenly skilled cocksucker.
“Mmmmm,” she moaned back as she noisily slobbered all over his meaty stick.
Knowing her brother as well as she did, Thea understood his taste for the theatrical, so she slowed her bobbing down so that she moved at a more leisurely pace. While her lips glided smoothly along the first 5 inches of his cock, her dark brown eyes looked up into his, maintaining eye contact as she moved his dick in and out of her mouth.
“Fucking, shit Speedy!” Oliver grunted in excitement while her head bobbed back and forth, finding a pretty good rhythm a couple more times before popping up and off again.
“I do aim to please,” She joshed back in a joyous tone as she continued her oral assault with substantial effort and in order for the muscular man to recover his composure, Thea kept her tongue working its way up but this time with more conservative short bobs. Starting from the base, his gorgeous sis licked up one side of his prick before whipping his tip past her fastened lips again and swirled his crown with her wet muscle whilst a carnal amount of suction was applied in haste. With an audible burst to break the seal, Thea did the same thing on the opposing side, all while her delicate fingers rolled his balls in the palm of her hand.
Oliver welcomed the break, mainly because it still felt good to be at the end of Thea’s tongue lashings. Still, to a lesser degree in order to stymie any worries he may have about cumming prematurely, which was a real possibility judging by the way she performed. Her lips wrapped and stretched themselves back around his glistening thickness, which dripped wet spit down his balls from the copious amounts of saliva she’d applied and continued to slurp the toned flesh of his prick with young exuberance.
Just like before, Oliver moaned audibly as she started sucking him off while his head tilted back as a single, all be it unnecessary, hand-pressing down from the top of her head. Based on the moaning coming from her gullet, albeit muffled, and the look of glee in her eyes, she was clearly enjoying sucking him off, bobbing her head up and down his towering pole, taking more of him inside her each time.
“Glllkkk...Hmmmphf!...gllllllkk,” she gurgled on his thick member as Thea bobbed her head all the way down to the base. Completely encompassing him down her throat , he held her there, held her for almost a whole minute. Then, only once the tears of desperation to breathe came streaming out the corner of her eyes, did Oliver release his disciplining grip. Thea flew off his rod with a new appreciation for the air around her, grabbing as much fresh oxygen as her battered air sacks would allow.
“Vnushitel'nyy ob' yem legkikh u etogo, dolzhen priznat',” (Impressive lung capacity on that one, I must admit,) The observing Isabel, almost complimented as she still coldly wondered to herself what kind of impossibly inconceivable conversation the two siblings possibly could have shared ever even to entertain the thought of crossing such a usually harrowing taboo line in the first place? Never mind to end up bonding over blow jobs so willingly?
Back on the screen, the billionaire was groaning.
“Mhm...shiiit.”
Changing her tactics once more, Thea pulled her gobber off his dick, which now slicked a string of saliva between its end and the corner of her entrance, using her hand to beat his pole, feverishly fist-pumping a little and angled his dick up, that in doing so allowed her access to the twin globes beneath.
After a few more thrusts, which Oliver enjoyed rigorously as her wrists comfortably worked his thick shaft up and down, Thea shifted, so she was able to get a bit more relaxed. Now able to bring her full-frontal assault to his manhood in earnest.
“So, am I keeping up with your usually oh so high standards?” Thea teased back between taking in a quick gasp of air and opening her oral orifice again to use her tongue to gather one of his heavy nuts and sucked it into her mouth like a vacuum head.
“Oh God...so good,” Oliver grunted, shivering in ecstasy, gripping her head tighter.
Thea took long, slow, laconic turns taking each orb-like organ into her inlet and giving each the proper attention they so rightly deserved, cautious not to damage them in any way. They felt warm, and Thea could almost feel the sperm swirling inside them...the seed that would soon be hers.
“Don’t worry my little Ollie’s,” Thea said as she kissed one nut softly. “Auntie Thea will get you out of there...”
And kissed the other before inconceivably slurping both balls inside her tiny mouth before she rubbed her tongue around and around them in jagged clockwise rotations. Oliver practically squealed from the immediate pain he felt from having his testicles twisted in such a fashion, yet at the same time, Thea stroked his shafts in place of her missing mouth, tracing her fingernail along the base of his spongiosum. Through some bold muscle manipulation, she managed to get one ball to fill up each cheek. From the angle she looked up at him, her appearance now reminded him of an adorable chipmunk that had suddenly found the nuts it had always longed for. She could hear how much he relished in it. Thea heard pleas to continue and hummed in satisfaction.
“Mmmm....” She moaned, exhaling slowly, not of course forgetting, she’d need to breathe again soon, though not before she pressed her slippery wet muscle forward to crush the centre of his scrotum even further, tightening her already yielding grip on him that much harder.
“Holy fuck!” Oliver blurted out between breaths, his dick felt as hard as steel in her hand and pulsing with each and every jerk. His scrotum was still tightly entwined, now pressed together by her jaw’s massaging grip. She took in a deep breath and sucked backwards, her nose pushed into the side of his shaft as she attempted something Oliver never even thought possible...She was deepthroating his balls!
Controlling her gag reflex as his sack stretched to nudge her dangling uvula, Thea sucked in a deep breath making sure her throat wasn’t too constricted by his testes, and gave what was perhaps the world’s most unorthodox blowjob anyone under any circumstances had ever received. Or was it the first-ever possible scrotjob? Oliver could no longer tell as the sheer pleasure of the act began to overtake him.
He felt her throat muscles closing and releasing in ragged gusts as she inhaled him up and down her gullet, pushing his aching balls down into her throat again and again as his dick throbbed above her nose.
It was such a remarkable act, one that was so sexually pristine in its essence, yet so at the same time, so physically simple, even if it did have that slight tinge of discomfort.
She pressed further and suckled stiffer as she looked up, unable to see his face from this new smooshed position but saw out of the tip of his cock towering above her in enormous perspective, the telltale signs of precum trickling at the top, ready to bust at any moment.
Then it hit her; she was literally squeezing the cum out of his balls and up his shaft.
With a tinge of disappointment in her eye, Thea released her vice grip and Oliver’s thickly plastered nuts came rupturing up out of her mouth.
“T-that was...so...amazing...” he stammered and struggled for untarnished air.
“Thought you’d like that,” Thea grinned once her lips broke the tight seal around his cock.
“Where’d you...learn to do...that?” he asked, still out of breath.
“Ollie...” she looked up at him like she had to explain something to a child. “I’m a newly turned 18-year-old who’s been sneaking or straddling my way into nightclubs since I was 15. You’d think by now I’d have picked up a trick or two along the way.” She raised an eyebrow.
Oliver’s face lit up with a quirky grin.
“Straddled?” he inquired.
“Oh shut up,” she turned her head away from him with an amused smile.
“Then make me. Come here,” He hissed in between breaths.
Thea found herself helped up off her knees as Oliver eased her down onto the sofa so his back was resting upright against the leather as his hands spread Thea’s legs over his with her back pressed against his chest. She could feel his quickened pulse.
“Careful old man, we don't want you to have a heart attack now do we,” she teased back over her shoulder.
“Oh shut up,” Oliver mumbled as he pushed his crotch up against her and their genitals rubbed against each other.
“Make me,” she said, mirroring his earlier familial jabbing with no apparent loss of irony.
Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle a little.
“Um... aren’t you going to put on a condom?” she questioned, feeling his head slink and slip along her folds.
“What for? Rubbers are against company poli-CY!” he answered as he speared himself up inside her dripping wet slit.
“Ohhhkay th-EN!” She looked back at him from the corner of her exasperated eye at the exact same moment of driving pleasure.
“Just...mmngh...sayin’ that dick...looked awfully....urgh!...leaky to me, and good luck explaining...Mmmph...to the PRESS!...how you got your... A.H.!...baby...sister pre-e-e-e-e-e-egnant,” Thea moaned through incoherent thrusts up into her wet slit as he started pumping inside her. “Ohhhhhhhhhh!”
“Da kakaya udacha v samom dele,” (Yes, what good luck indeed,) Rochev’s voice sounded smug as fuck in the real world as she turned to look at the present Oliver, who turned a stare on her so intensely, it would have frightened anyone else out of the room, but not her, no, she was beginning to get on his nerves...
At least Past-Oliver was having a good time, in fact, he looked to be all warmed up just nicely, but needed to make sure he didn’t go too crazy with his baby sis right from the start. Thus, the billionaire fucked her steadily but with an edge of gentleness since she was remarkably tight, even by an 18-year-olds standards. Using half his length he pushed in and out of her gushing mound, feeling her pussy spreading and relenting with each passing thrust. Finally, he felt his base fully sheathed in her wetness with his abs pressed firmly against her surprisingly thick ass.
Taking off the training wheels now, Oliver held little Speedy back against his chest as the two faced each other with closed eyes and heads turned as far as they’d pivot, they could feel each other’s hot breath against the other cheek as they achieved a deeper connection than probably any other sibling pairing could ever hope to attain, rearing back before spearing into her at full force, both of them moaned loudly in delight. Oli ran his top hand up from her smooth hips, over her flat tummy and finally grabbed ahold of her bouncing tit while his mouth worked on kissing the nape of her neck.
“Fuck! Your bodies so fucking sexy,” Oliver complimented as their sweaty bodies thudded against each other.
“Thanks, Mmm, bro,” Thea replied while moaning, the boob held by the businessman jiggled about.
“Tell me. Tell me what you are,” Oliver demanded.
“Mhmm...I'm the boss's bitch, I’m your personal little whore,” Thea screamed, her ass rippling with every thrust.
“Cum again for me my little dirty personal assistant,” Oliver asked, his free hand strumming over her clit now.
“Awwhh! Ffff....uccckkk yes,” his leggy sister answered, approaching her climax by the second.
“Squirt all over my cock like a good girl,” he added, his thrusting and rubbing reaching a fever pitch.
“Oh my God,” Thea said, running a hand through her long, silky hair with her eyes squeezed shut and breathing turned more ragged. “I’m cumming. Don’t stop. YYEESSSSSSS!”
Oliver kept his pace going with both hips and hand until he was sure that his baby sis had ridden out her second orgasm of the night. Like the first time, like a true Queen, she screamed and came hard, coating his cock in a thick layer of her juices. The pair had been fucking for long enough to know that if Oli continued to fuck her with the same intensity after her climax, the muscular man would near his own.
“Gonna...cum...soon,” Oliver warned between thrusts, each one stronger and feeling more penetrative than the last.
“Yes, Oli! Do it,” she implored, wiggling her hips invitingly. “Cum for me!”
“Mhmm...oh...cum in me,” Thea begged, feeling him becoming more erratic, signalling his imminent orgasm. “You’re the only one I let fill me!”
“Yes! Inside!” he groaned, not able to withstand any more of her velvety folds.
Rearing back one last time Oliver plunged as deep into her pussy as he possibly could. Holding himself pressed inside her, the older of the Queen siblings released his seed, pumping his thick cum right into her womb. Watching on from the screen, the present Oliver could remember the feel of her pussy, how wet it was, how snugly it hugged him, and the seemingly never-ending supply of jizz he pumped into his baby sister.
“Whoa...” Thea moaned as Oliver pulled his deflating cock from her snatch one last time.
“Agreed,” Oliver replied, repaying her smile with one of his own.
After a few more seconds, the intoxicating lust the two shared a moment ago began to fade into calm tristesse, with what could only be described as post-coital comedic timing, Oliver suddenly uttered: "Sooo...I should definitely pick the Triplicate Girl then yeah?"
Slapping him on the chest before he could even finish his sentence she let out a brief chuckle. "Oh my god, hehe, yes Ollie, you jerk pick the Tripiclate one."
Back in the present office, the two CEO's stared down one another for a couple of heartbeats in total silence before Isabel finally broke the silence splitting the two of them apart like glaciers separated by an equator.
“Well, I suppose that explains the abundance of contraceptive pills you have stocked beside every water dispenser in the building like complimentary tic-tacs,” she said flatly in a driven tone, raising her eyebrows towards her partner suggestively. “If that’s what you two are into, I mean-”
The billionaire exploded up, leaping from his seated position suddenly in a blinding rage; unthinking and uncaring, he grabbed Rochev by the neck with one hand while he pushed her body towards the nearest wall with the other. She didn't fight back, instead just allowed herself to be roughly shoved back against the wall as she winced with what was perhaps a little too much enthusiasm from the impact.
“First you try and take my company, now this? Why are you doing this!?” Oliver roared with mirth and disdain, only an inch from her face, all previous composure was so far gone, it might as well have jumped out the broken window after Blackstar...pensively swaying his head a fraction in each direction, seeing red as he pinned his co-partner to the wall by her throat.
“Hah-Ooohh, I think it's sad that you don't know,” Isabel answered back through a ragged grin, as she held onto her calm composure like it were a liferaft in an ocean, as she avoided choking from his furious hold, she bit her lip in suspense as she waited for whatever he had planned next. She was seemingly enjoying herself for some unpalatable reason.
When he did not move any further, whether due to his realisation of his sudden action or from sheer rage, she whispered something inaudible through a soft exit breath that he could hear and for just a moment, he sagged, as if taken by momentary surprise, his features shifted back into the cold calculating mask he wore whenever he was in a situation requiring him to play the part and took a step back.
“Who else has access to this footage?” His inquiry was mused with irritation, still gripping her neck, but notably looser now.
She just smiled a menacing closed-lipped smirk.
“Thought so,” picking the conversation back up, he turned away for a second to look back at Diggle, who was still out. “I can’t imagine you’re going to keep this in your little ‘flick the bean vault’, are you?” his tone had mellowed slightly with blatant sarcasm, turning back to her.
“No, you’re going to use this to push for a vote of no confidence in me as a primary shareholder in front of the board today, right? I mean, why else would you push for the meeting to be set earlier and so fucking conveniently forget to inform me?” He sported the sounds of a man who'd just found the final piece of a long incomplete puzzle.
“You don’t give a shit about any missing tech, do you? No no, this is personal; this is about usurping me to seize control of my family’s company.” The accusation arrived in rags as he tried to remain as civil as possible under the immense strain he was exerting, trying to bottle down the fury bubbling up like lava as a result of the woman’s callous underhanded tactics.
“Congratulations, truly,” she gasped so sarcastically she could have choked on it; after all she practically already was. “You managed to...hurgh...get through...an entire sentence...without stuttering, perfect,” taunting with contemptuous malice followed by a light chuckle.
Oliver tightened his grip once again, with much less vigour than before, but it was enough to put an end to that incessant smug smirk.
“As I said...*gasp* Queen, you’ve well and truly...fucked things up for yourself this time, Iiii always triiied to warn you-that your....dribbling dick would get you into trouble, and here we are."
Oliver’s scowl turned to one of determination as his eyes bore into hers with unbridled focus.
“As a matter of faaact," she continued, “I don’t really see the need to involve you *Inhale* in today’s meeting at allll." Her cheeks were beginning to take on a bright pink shade of strain.
'Incredible,' Oliver thought, 'Here she is, literally in my grasp and she still thinks she’s going to get away with this.'
Oliver now wrapped both hands around her neck.
“Listen close you bitch, I’m not going anywhere, and your not making any decisions about what I can do, so you'd best learn some respect otherwise-"
"You'll do...what?" She bubbled out tattered gaul from the edges of her lips where actual saliva bubbles were escaping in spots. "Fuck me like you did your little slut of a sisterrr?" Her head tilted down at the mention, her eyes now seemed to be bulging outside her skull. "Been there, done that, thoroughly unimpressed..." And as if just to add insult to injury, she spat in the man’s face, landing a warm sticky glob partly across his cheek and below his right eye.
Finally snapping, he quickly raised one hand to strike her with what looked to be a most solid slap when a commanding voice shouted out from behind him.
"Mr Queen! Take your hands away from her and turn around, immediately!"
Oliver ripped one hand off her throat and turned to see the new factor in the office space.
The voice belonged to Josiah Hudson, a white man in his 40's who Oliver recognised as head of security for Queen Consolidated. He also quickly realised that he had a weapon drawn, aiming right at him.
'How the hell? How did he know to come racing up h...the clicker...it must have a silent alarm built into it...she's planned this...' Oliver realised all too late.
Instantly he froze, cold quivers of rationale began to flood his brain like water breaking a dam and he threw up his free hand with yielding compliance.
"Josh, this...this is not what it looks like she's-" He attempted but was cut off.
"Help! Oh my god help!" Isabel suddenly sprang to life before everyone's very eyes, visible terror was written all over her face as she began screaming. "He's trying to kill me! Help! I can't breathe!"
Josiah looked over at the man with a swift glance.
"What!? No! Josh...she is trying to...." But Oliver couldn't form the words; newly acquired clarity told him how bad this must look. Though the tension was immense, his hand still did not relent.
"I said step back from her, now!" The armed man shouted again.
"No, she's trying to!-"
"Shoot him!" The choked woman screamed through exaggerated crocodile tears.
"What! NO!" Oliver said, quickly firing back between the two.
"You have 3 seconds to comply, Mr Queen, 1!" The man shouted, cocking the safety of his weapon.
"No, Josh! Will you just shut up for a second and listen to me!"
"2!"
"She is manipulating all of this. Can't you SEE THAT!" He said frantically through gritted teeth as even he realised he was squeezing harder on her neck again.
"3!"
He closed his eyes, readying for the shot he knew was coming. To his left, he could feel her smiling thinly in victory...when suddenly he heard yet another voice, this time it was a very familiar one.
"I'd strongly advise against that Josiah," Shooting open his eyes he saw none other than John Diggle! Fully conscious and firearm point-blank against the side of Josh's grey-haired head.
"Dig!" Oliver shouted in relief. "Thank god, how long have you been awake?"
"Long enough sir, first trick in war, subvert then strike." The ebony man said unflinching, never taking his aim or sight off the older white man in front of him who held his gun to John's right, pointing at his boss.
"John..." It took the head of security a second to register the new development, "What the fuck are you doing?" He said, dragging gravel-like disbelief. "Look at what's happening, look at what he's doing to her, and you're going to point a gun at m-" Diggle cocked the piece into the side of his head to reaffirm his point, and the security man shut up.
"Ohhh, I'm going to do more than just point, see, that man there," He cocked his head stiffly at Oliver, "Is my mission, and I don't know if you've ever been to war Josiah, but you never, and I mean," he paused. "Never get between a soldier and his mission. So for the last time, put your gun down Josh, I won't ask again." He said in a deep, calm voice.
Josiah held his ground, beginning to sweat a little, this isn't what any of them needed at 8:30 in the fucking morning.
"Oliver," Diggle's voice carried, still sturdy, "Let her go man..."
"What!? Are you crazy, Dig? You heard what she-"
"Yeah, I heard it all; believe me, she's just trying to push your buttons, Oliver; you're smarter than that; get a hold of yourself," His deep soothing voice drew the younger white man in, Oliver looked towards him.
"I get that your angry, but take a breath, beat her at her own game, because this, this isn't how you win...don't be a pawn under her game," Dig finally faced him, looking a mix of drowsy and determined, "You're better than this man."
At those words, Oliver looked back at her for another couple of moments, weighing up his options and allowing the last of his burning fury to seep out of him in a final pressing shove, and he released her. She collapsed to her knees in an overly dramatic fashion, and both men lowered their weapons. Immediately gasping for air in loud bursts, she glared at Oliver as if her first plan had tasted bitter defeat. Josiah rushed down to her side and assisted her up back to her feet.
"Are you alright, Ma'am?"
"What the fuck took you so long!" She hissed through gritted teeth, gently rubbing the side of her neck where Oliver had held her moments ago. The area began to redden.
"The silent alarm rang on delay. We suspect it was sabotaged."
Hearing that, Oliver smirked a little, "Sue must have set up a timed delay after last night," he mumbled to Diggle just before two more men with black suits and weapons entered the room. The billionaire raised his hands in a placatory surrender gesture.
"Get this lunatic out of my building," Shouted Isabel, "He tried to kill me with his bare hands." She quickly clarified to the two men who had just shown up.
"Your building?" Oliver said, scowling, a rapid change of tone, "I don't think you'll be-"
But before he could finish, the new men were behind him, pushing him towards the door, "Keep moving!" The one on the left hissed in a heavily accented English accent.
"Get the fuck off me you hired idiot!" Oliver snapped at the man, but Dig's voice again held him down.
"Just go with them, Oliver; I'll be right there," he said as the two men escorted Oliver out of his own office.
"This isn't over, Rochev, you fucking manipulative bitch! This isn't over!" Oliver yelled as he was dragged down the hall towards the elevator. Leaving only Rochev, Josiah and Diggle in his office.
"He's right, you know," Dig said quietly. "This isn't over."
"Oh, yes it is," Isabel's voice, now lost of any sense of dread, snapped back to her calm and collected tone. "But that's the thing, Mr Diggle," She said, stepping close with interlocked fingers, "Winning often agrees with me..." She smirked in a newly dark, almost frighteningly hungry manner.
"For your sake, Ms Rochev, I hope that's true; I do, because he'll be coming for you now; I know him. He won't stop until he glazes over you with everything he's got," She only smirked as Diggle left her with a profoundly mistrusting grin and followed his boss steadily.
By the time he reached the ground floor of the building, he spotted that Oliver was out the front of the glass door, yelling at the men who had just thrown them out and looking like he was going to attack one.
Hurrying out the door himself, Dig quickly told Oliver to get in the Limo that still lay there utterly tarnished after last night's reenactment of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid on wheels. As soon as he put the stretch into gear, Oliver erupted into a fit of fury and emotions.
"Fucking cunt bitch! Thinks she's going to muscle me out and gut MYYY company! Ooooooh I'm going to ruin her, she'll be begging to give blowjobs for a buck out of some shithole gutter in the Glades by the time I'm done with her."
"Heyyy! Calm down, Oliver, think about it for a moment," Diggle said, "You were just caught strangling your partner in the middle of your family's established company in broad daylight, a security team was called in to pull you off her, weapons were even drawn when you resisted. That puts a lot of witnesses at the scene to back up her story that you attacked her. On top of that, I'm sure she's got that secret footage backed up somewhere, and now you've even been locked out of the meeting as well so there's no way you can-"
"Oh my god...John...that's it!...you're a genius!" He erupted in sudden and unexpected joy as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
"Who are you calling?" Diggle asked, confused at what he had said to spark this new train of thought.
"You're right, I can't get in there to stop whatever her plans are, but I know someone who can..." He cut off and held the phone to his ear.
"Hey!" Oliver gleed in a voice full of excitement and breathlessness. "How are you? I know, it’s been more than a dog's age, I'm...no, no, I'm calling cause I need a favour, yeah no of course, a-are you in the city?"
Diggle tried to pay attention to what his boss was saying from the driver's seat but could barely distinguish a whisper of what was being said, so he gave up and focused on the road as his boss's pleasantries broke into unintelligible laughter.
"Dig! Head to The Golden Booty! Step on it!" Oliver shouted forward before bringing his phone back to his ear, knowing that, by this point, Dig was already well on his way.
"How quick can you sober up? I need your help..."
Next Chapter: A Board Meetings Trajectory - Part 2/3 - Presentation is Everything
Heya everyone! Co-writer Jak O’Hara here
I’d like to take this opportunity to give a large thanks to everyone who has been instrumental in reading, commenting and most importantly, to all those waiting on new updates for this story. I greatly appreciate all the kind comments and patience you’ve all shown me on my first story so far and I’m excited to announce that I have a fun little opportunity for 4-5 people who wish to comment on this chapter.
After discussing things with DrChemist, we’ve settled on a fun little idea to include a few meta (No pun intended) male characters being brought in from real life and incorporated into the story as board members of this shareholders meeting that has been heavily eluded to for the past several chapters and have them featured in the next 2 up and coming chapters including interactive scenes with both Isabel Rochev and Helena Bertinelli
So, if you’d like to see yourself be included in some capacity into this story, then all you have to do is copy, paste and fill in the following template accordingly.
Do note that the more realistic ones with proper names, business occupation and brief description will be picked.
Character Name:
Fake Arrowverse Business (E.g: BiO-Hara INC. + description as to what it does) :
In 25-50 words or less, explain a little about your character's overall look including Hair, Suit, as well as personality:
As stated, the top 4-5 comments will land a spot on the board of Queen Consolidated. I look forward to seeing who I can incorporate.
Thank you all so much once again and enjoy reading!
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Alternate Timeline: The Cumming of Siphon